The Girl in the Hoodie is Mine

ELLA POV:

The cramps had finally subsided, leaving me in that weird limbo where I couldn’t decide whether to drag myself to school or crawl back into bed for a glorious nap. As I sat there, contemplating life, I watched Jason rinse off the breakfast dishes.

So, he was the clean type. Not bad.

But it was time for him to leave. He’d overstayed his welcome—way overstayed, actually. And the worst part? He was making me think he wasn’t so bad after all. That was dangerous. I didn’t need to be thinking about Jason like that.

As I mulled over the best way to politely kick him out, Jason beat me to it.

"I should get going," he said, turning off the tap and drying his hands. "I need to head back to my place and get ready for class. You, on the other hand, should stay here and rest."

Oh, good. He had some self-awareness.

"I’ll take good notes," he added, smirking. "I’ll bring them to you later so you don’t fall behind."

I raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Not to be rude, but you barely take notes during class."

Jason looked at me with mock offense, pressing a hand to his chest. "That’s because I’m a genius. I don’t need to."

"Yeah, sure," I shot back, rolling my eyes. "The same genius who thought the mitochondria was a constellation last semester?"

"Okay, first of all, that was one time, and I was distracted," he defended, his grin not faltering. "Second, I’m still a genius."

His arrogant tone was infuriating—and annoyingly amusing. I had to fight back a smile as we went back and forth for a few minutes, him promising he’d actually take notes this time, and me reluctantly agreeing to skip class.

"All right," I finally said, leaning back on the couch. "But if you don’t show up with notes, I’m kicking your ass."

Jason grinned, grabbing his bag. "I’ll take notes. Detailed ones. Footnotes, diagrams, the whole deal."

"Don’t push it," I warned, pointing a finger at him.

He chuckled, heading for the door. "Rest up, Ella. I’ll see you later."

As the door clicked shut behind him, I let out a long breath.

Jason taking notes? Yeah, I’d believe it when I saw it. Still, I had to admit, the idea of him coming back later with notes—even terrible ones—made me feel a little less annoyed. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

But that didn’t mean I was going to tell him that. No way.

After Jason left, the apartment was blissfully quiet again. I stared at the ceiling for a solid ten minutes, debating whether to get up and do something productive or just cocoon myself back into my blanket burrito. The blanket burrito won.

My cramps had mostly chilled out, but I was still feeling lazy and, honestly, a little too comfortable. I figured if I could just close my eyes for a quick nap, I’d wake up feeling like a whole new person. You know, the kind who gets things done and doesn’t have an existential crisis about going to school or not.

Spoiler alert: I didn’t wake up as that person.

When I finally peeled myself out of bed, it was already late afternoon. My phone’s clock mocked me with the glowing 4:00 PM. I stretched, groaning dramatically like a heroine in one of those tragic novels.

Okay, Ella, time to get your act together. You’ve had your lazy day.

Despite still wanting to dive back under the covers, I knew I had to drag myself to work. The diner wasn’t going to magically pay me for staying at home, and my wallet wasn’t exactly bursting with cash. With a sigh, I threw on my uniform, gave my reflection in the mirror a halfhearted thumbs-up, and headed out.

The diner smelled like grease and coffee, the scent somehow both comforting and mildly nauseating at the same time. The usual evening crowd was filtering in—people who looked like they’d had a rough day and were now seeking solace in pancakes and burgers.

"Ella!" my manager called from behind the counter. "Thought you weren’t coming in today."

"Surprise," I muttered, forcing a smile. "Can’t stay away from this glamorous life for too long."

I tied my apron on and got to work, moving between tables with the efficiency of someone who’s been doing this far too long. My cramps had settled into a dull ache, but thankfully, my mood was better than it had been earlier.

That didn’t mean I wasn’t sassy, though.

"Excuse me, miss," an older customer said, holding up an empty coffee mug. "Can I get a refill?"

"Sure thing," I said, grabbing the pot. "Anything else? A winning lottery ticket? The meaning of life?"

He chuckled. "Just the coffee’s fine."

Another table waved me down for ketchup, a couple of teens complained about their fries not being "crispy enough," and some guy tried to flirt with me by asking if I was on the menu. Gross.

By the time the clock struck 7:00 PM, I was in my groove, moving between tables like a pro. My mood had improved significantly, and the tips were rolling in. Maybe dragging myself out of bed wasn’t the worst decision after all.

As I poured yet another refill for the regular who probably drank his body weight in coffee daily, the door to the diner jingled open. I glanced up, ready to plaster on my welcome-to-the-diner-what-do-you-want face, only to see Max standing there with Dylan trailing nervously behind him.

Dylan beelined for their usual booth, plopping down like he wanted to disappear into the cushion. Max, on the other hand, approached me with a sheepish smile and a small bag in hand.

"Hey, Ella," he said, his voice almost too sweet.

I raised an eyebrow, setting the coffee pot down. "Hey, Max. What’s with the peace-offering tone? Did you break something?"

"I come in peace," he said, holding up the bag like a white flag.

I chuckled despite myself. Gosh, I really scared him yesterday, didn’t I? Hormonal Ella was no joke, apparently.

Before he could say anything else, I cleared my throat awkwardly. "About yesterday... I’m sorry. I wasn’t—"

"It’s okay," he interrupted, pushing the bag toward me with an earnest expression.

Curious, I took it and peeked inside. My jaw nearly hit the floor.

Chocolates. Lots of them.

"Are you serious?" I asked, pulling out a bar and holding it up like it was a golden ticket.

Max grinned nervously. "Yeah, I figured it might, uh, help. You know, for, um..." He trailed off, clearly not wanting to say whatever it was in the middle of the diner.

"Max," I said, looking him straight in the eye. "You are officially my favorite person right now."

He laughed, clearly relieved. "So, we’re cool?"

"Are you kidding? You just made my whole shift great."

Before I could stop myself, I gave him a quick hug. Don’t ask me why—I think it was a combination of happiness, relief, and a sudden sugar high from just thinking about all that chocolate.

Max looked a little surprised but grinned like he’d just won the lottery. He backed away with a quick, "See you later, Ella," and headed to join Dylan at their booth.

I watched him go, shaking my head with a smile as I tucked the chocolates safely where I kept my personal stuff. Of course, I couldn’t resist unwrapping one right away. The first bite was pure bliss.

God bless Max. Best shift ever.

And no, before anyone gets any ideas, you cannot buy me with chocolate. Let’s be clear about that. This was purely a special case. Hormones, cramps, and the hellscape of yesterday warranted this exact response.

That said, Max? Yeah, he just made my day.

As I unwrapped another piece of chocolate and popped it into my mouth, I leaned against the counter, letting the sweetness melt on my tongue. It was like every annoyance from earlier—Dylan’s awkwardness, the diner’s endless refills, the general Tuesday-ness of it all—had evaporated in one sugary, serotonin-filled moment.

I glanced over at Max and Dylan in their booth. Dylan was busy staring at his menu like it held the secrets of the universe, while Max caught my eye and gave a small wave.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the tiny smile that crept onto my face.

"Don’t think this means you’re off the hook for life, Max," I muttered under my breath, knowing full well he couldn’t hear me. "But for now? Yeah. You’re good."

Honestly, who knew chocolate could be such a game-changer?

As for Jason? Oh, he’s still pending. The jury’s out on whether he’s made it into the "good graces" column or if he’s just one more annoyance I have to deal with later. Sure, he played nursemaid yesterday, but let’s not forget how infuriating he is on a regular basis. One decent breakfast doesn’t cancel out years of arrogance, buddy.

But Max? Max brought chocolate. Lots of chocolate. And chocolate doesn’t talk back or smirk at you or make you want to scream into a pillow. Chocolate just exists, perfectly sweet and delicious, solving all of life’s minor disasters one bite at a time.

So, yeah. No more boys. Just chocolate. Chocolate doesn’t disappoint. Chocolate doesn’t smirk. Chocolate is reliable.

I popped another piece into my mouth, sighing as the sweetness melted away every lingering ounce of stress. "Best shift ever," I mumbled, a small smile creeping onto my face as I got back to work.

Boys are chaos. Chocolate is peace. End of story.