The Girl in the Hoodie is Mine

Ella’s POV:

Okay, so I spent a ridiculous amount of time overthinking what I would have done if Jason had actually kissed me. Punch him? Kick him where it counts? Respond? The last one was a very low probability—at least, that’s what I told myself. But eventually, somewhere between analyzing and overanalyzing, sleep found me.

And, to my utter surprise, I slept like a baby. Seriously, the kind of deep, dreamless sleep that makes you forget you exist.

Which is probably why I woke up in a total panic.

The moment I opened my eyes and saw the time, my heart dropped. I was so close to being late for my last class before finals next week. I bolted out of bed, threw on the first semi-decent outfit I could find, and started a speed-run version of my morning routine.

I was too busy freaking out about being late to even remember Jason or what had almost happened last night. It wasn’t until I grabbed my phone to check the time again that I noticed the two notifications sitting on my lock screen.

From Jason.

For a second, I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the screen. But my brain was already in overdrive, and I was too rushed to process what those messages could be. With finals looming and my class on the line, whatever he had to say could wait.

I shoved my phone into my bag, grabbed my keys, and dashed out the door, mentally running through all the ways I could make it to class on time without looking like a complete disaster.

And Jason’s messages? They’d just have to sit there. For now.

I managed to slide into class just as the professor was stepping in. I was out of breath and slightly frazzled, but hey, I made it, and that was what counted. As I hurried toward my usual spot, my eyes scanned the room, and that’s when I saw him.

Jason.

Of course, he was sitting right next to my seat.

Oh, great.

His presence hit me like a jolt. All the chaos of the morning—my panic about being late, my focus on finals—evaporated in an instant, replaced by the memory of last night. The almost kiss. The way he’d looked at me like I was the only person in the world. And then the way he’d pulled back, leaving me with more questions than answers.

I hesitated for a split second, my feet faltering as my brain scrambled to figure out how I felt about seeing him here. Annoyed? Awkward? Relieved? A mix of all three?

Jason turned his head slightly, catching sight of me. A slow, knowing smile spread across his face—the kind that said, I know exactly what’s on your mind.

And just like that, I felt my cheeks heat.

Determined not to let him get to me, I squared my shoulders, marched to my seat, and plopped down without so much as a glance in his direction.

"Morning," he said casually, his voice low and teasing.

I didn’t look at him. "Morning."

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him smirking, clearly enjoying my attempt to ignore him. I could almost hear the wheels turning in his head, plotting his next move.

This is going to be a long class.

JASON POV:

Just like I thought—no sleep. The entire night, my mind was consumed by her. Ella. Her sharp tongue, her fiery eyes, her ridiculous ability to drive me insane and keep me hooked all at once.

I think I might need a doctor. Or maybe a therapist. Because there’s no way it’s normal to replay the same moment a hundred times in your head like some lovesick fool.

When I finally managed to drift off, it was probably only for a couple of hours. And, of course, just when I started having the most amazing dream—Ella, standing in front of me, looking at me like I was the only guy in the world. The Ella in my dream had actually agreed to be my girlfriend. I could still hear her voice saying, "Yes, Jason."

We were so close. Her lips were right there, and I was about to kiss her, my heart racing in that perfect, dream-like way—

Then BAM. The stupid alarm decided to ruin my life.

I swear, I’ve never wanted to chuck my phone out the window more.

Groaning, I rolled out of bed, still half-dazed from the dream and not entirely sure if I wanted to laugh or scream. Because even though it wasn’t real, for a split second, it had felt so damn good.

Ella as my girlfriend.

Yeah, I definitely need professional help.

I sent her one—no, scratch that—two texts. Yep, two. Because I’m apparently a lovesick fool who can’t resist checking in on her, even when I know she’s probably going to roll her eyes at me.

The timing wasn’t great, though. My dream, the alarm—ugh, talk about being yanked out of bliss and straight into reality. Still, despite the rude awakening, I couldn’t shake this ridiculous feeling of happiness.

After last night with Ella, nothing could sour my mood. Not even the fact that I spent most of the night staring at my ceiling like an idiot or that I’m currently running on barely three hours of sleep. Because, for once, everything felt... good.

Maybe it’s because I managed not to mess things up. Or maybe it’s just her—being around her, seeing her laugh, knowing she let her guard down with me for just a moment. It’s addicting.

I don’t know where this is going, but I know one thing for sure—I’m not ready to let it go.

Things between Ella and me had started to shift—subtly, but definitely for the better. I wasn’t sure if it was the dinner, the almost-kiss, or the fact that we’d shared something neither of us wanted to admit out loud. Whatever it was, I wasn’t complaining.

This morning, I’d gotten to class early, which, let’s be honest, wasn’t my usual style. But today, I had a reason. I wanted to see her, maybe catch a moment before everything got hectic. But the minutes ticked by, and she didn’t show.

Instead, Max and Dylan walked in about ten minutes before the start of class, laughing like they’d already won the day. "Lucky bastard," Max said, slapping me on the shoulder. "Skipping practice and still showing up here like it’s nothing. Coach is fuming."

"Yeah," Dylan chimed in, dropping his bag onto the desk beside me. "But I’m guessing you’ve got your reasons. Don’t think we haven’t noticed you’ve been distracted lately."

I shrugged, playing it off, even though they weren’t entirely wrong. "I’m here, aren’t I? Tell Coach I’ll make it up to him."

Dylan raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying my nonchalant act, but before he could say anything else, the door opened, and my focus immediately shifted.

Ella.

She walked in with the professor right behind her, looking like she’d just sprinted across campus but still managing to look effortlessly put together. My chest tightened in a way I didn’t entirely understand, and I sat up straighter without even realizing it.

Dylan leaned over, following my gaze. "Ah, now it makes sense. Thought you were waiting for something."

Max smirked. "Or someone."

"Shut up," I muttered under my breath, trying not to make it obvious how much of an idiot I probably looked right now.

Ella didn’t even glance in my direction as she hurried to her seat—our seat, the one right next to mine. She was here, but she might as well have been a million miles away.

Still, I couldn’t help but smile. Even if she wasn’t looking at me, at least she was here. That was enough—for now.