The Girl in the Hoodie is Mine

JASON POV:

Okay, so I didn’t mean to skip class again. Seriously, I had every intention of showing up today. I even woke up early and told myself that no matter what happened, I was going to sit through that boring lecture and, most importantly, see Ella.

But of course, life—or more accurately, Mr. Kingsley—had other plans.

At 7:00 a.m., I got the call. Apparently, the man himself wanted to meet me again. This time, he’d "made his decision," but I needed to bring the finalized contract just in case he was on board.

So, yeah. Another day, another missed opportunity to see the only girl who could make me willingly sit in a classroom.

I’d be lying if I said I felt bad about skipping class because I care for school. Nah, that wasn’t it. What really sucked was that I wouldn’t get to see Ella.

God, I miss her.

I checked my phone as I got ready for the day, hoping—praying—for a miracle. Nothing.

Still no response to the messages I’d sent yesterday, but who was I kidding? She hadn’t replied and wasn’t going to, so why would today be any different?

But did that stop me from sending another text? Absolutely not.

Jason: Morning. Feeling better today?

Yeah, I knew she wouldn’t reply, but I couldn’t help myself. What’s that they say about insanity? Doing the same thing over and over, expecting different results? Well, call me insane because I’d gladly keep texting her until the end of time.

After sending the text, I dragged myself to the shower, letting the hot water wake me up and remind me that today wasn’t just about Ella. I had a mission: seal the deal with Mr. Kingsley, impress the hell out of him, and get his investment for the project.

Simple enough, right? Wrong.

The man was a perfectionist. Careful with his money, terrifyingly meticulous, and ruthless when it came to cutting deals. And if was like that for about his investments, he will be ridiculously protective of his family—his daughter especially.

I couldn’t help but feel sorry for whoever ended up marrying her. That poor guy would have to go through a full-on interrogation from Mr. Kingsley before getting the green light.

But hey, not my problem. My only concern was getting him to sign the damn contract and making sure the project was flawless. That’s it.

I threw on a suit, grabbed a coffee, and braced myself for what I assumed would be another exhausting meeting.

Just as I was about to leave, my phone chimed.

I almost ignored it, thinking it was my assistant nagging me about not being late. But when I checked, it wasn’t him.

It was Ella.

Ella: Yeah, I’m good. Congrats, you don’t have to babysit me anymore.

I froze, rereading the message about five times just to make sure I wasn’t imagining things. She’d replied.

She. Freaking. Replied.

Okay, so she called me a over protective nuisance in the most indirect way possible, but who cares? Ella texted me back.

I swear, my heart did this stupid little flutter thing, and suddenly, the day felt a hundred times brighter. Call me pathetic, but that one message was enough to put me in the best mood ever.

You know what? Maybe people underestimate the power of persistence.

Sure, I’d been texting her nonstop despite getting nothing in return, but look where it got me. A reply.

It wasn’t a "Good morning" or a "Hey, how are you?" but it was progress. And when it comes to Ella, I’ll take whatever I can get. Desperate much? I guess.

I smiled to myself as I finished my coffee and grabbed the finalized contract. If this was how my day started, maybe things were finally looking up.

So yeah, she was indeed my lucky charm.

I don’t know how else to explain it, but things just seemed to fall into place when Ella was in my thoughts—or when she replied to my texts, as rare as that was.

Take Mr. Kingsley, for instance. After putting me through the wringer, going over every detail of the contract like it was some life-or-death situation, he finally agreed.

Yes, he made sure the contract didn’t disadvantage him in any way—no surprise there. The man’s a shark, after all. But after three grueling hours of back-and-forth, he signed it. Sealing the deal.

I should’ve been over the moon. This deal was massive, something that would push LBJ Company into a whole new league. And yeah, I was proud of myself for pulling it off.

But honestly? The thing that kept me smiling all day wasn’t Mr. Kingsley’s signature—it was Ella’s message.

One reply from her had me feeling invincible.

By the time I left the meeting, it was mid-afternoon. I still had time.

Time to see Ella.

What were the chances of me asking her out for a little celebration and her actually agreeing? Zero.

But I wasn’t giving up that easily. I could start small, use the excuse of getting my book back or asking for the notes I missed. The exams were coming up, after all.

I made a quick stop at my place to freshen up. No way was I showing up looking like I’d just survived a three-hour interrogation. I swapped the suit for something more casual but still sharp enough to make an impression.

Ella Pov:

By the time my shift at the diner rolled around, I was in a solid mood again. Being busy always helped me clear my head. Plus, it gave me something to focus on other than Jason.

The problem? Every time the little bell above the door jingled, I found myself glancing up, half-expecting to see him stroll in with his usual confident smirk.

But nope. Not today.

Max didn’t show up either, which was weird. Usually, the three of them—Jason, Max, and Dylan—rolled in at some point during my shift to cause a scene and steal my sanity. Today, it was just regular customers: the grumpy businessman who ordered the same coffee every day, the college couple who couldn’t keep their hands off each other, and the little old lady who tipped me $5 just for being "charming."

No Jason. No Max. No Dylan.

And that was good. Great, even.

Except, as I wiped down a table for the fifth time, I couldn’t stop wondering where the hell he was.

Yeah I knew they wouldn’t be coming since my shift today was early and they would be at practise at least that I was certain in the case of Dylan and Max because they were the ones I saw in class today. As for Jason yeah well....

There he was walking towards me. How the hell did he come without me seeing him entering.

Jason POV:

On the way to the diner, I couldn’t help but think about how far I’d come with her. Sure, we weren’t exactly friends, but we weren’t mortal enemies anymore, either. That was progress, right?

The diner was buzzing with its usual late-afternoon crowd, the smell of coffee and fries filling the air. I scanned the room, my eyes immediately landing on Ella.

She was behind the counter, her hair tied back, looking completely focused on whatever she was writing down.

My heart did that stupid flutter thing again, and I had to remind myself to play it cool.

I walked up to the counter, leaning slightly to get her attention.

"Hey," I said casually, flashing her a grin.

She looked up, her expression neutral—borderline annoyed, honestly.

"Oh, it’s you," she said, not even trying to sound enthusiastic.

"Miss me?" I teased.

"Nope," she replied, popping the P. But there was a flicker of amusement in her eyes, and I clung to that like a lifeline.

"I came to grab my book," I said, keeping my tone light. "You know, the one I lent you so you wouldn’t fail miserably?"

Ella rolled her eyes. "Right, because I’m so helpless without your precious notes."

"You’re welcome, by the way," I shot back, smirking.

She sighed, reaching under the counter and pulling out my book. She slid it toward me, her expression giving nothing away.

I took the book, but I didn’t leave. Instead, I leaned a little closer, lowering my voice just enough to make it sound like a suggestion rather than a demand.

"So, about that deal I just closed..."

She raised an eyebrow. "What about it?"

"I was thinking of celebrating," I said, keeping my tone casual. "And you, Ella, should join me. After all, you’re my lucky charm."

She snorted. "Lucky charm? That’s a stretch."

"Hey, the facts don’t lie," I said with a shrug. "You reply to my text, I seal a multimillion-dollar deal. Coincidence? I think not."

Ella stared at me for a moment, like she was trying to decide whether I was serious or just messing with her.

"I don’t do celebrations," she said finally, turning back to her notebook.

"Not even for free food?" I asked, leaning on the counter.

She paused, her pen hovering over the page. "Free food, huh?"

"Yup. Your pick," I said, trying not to sound too eager.

Ella sighed, shaking her head. "You’re relentless, you know that?"

"I prefer the term persistent," I said with a grin.

She didn’t say yes, but she didn’t say no, either. And for now, I’d take that as a win.