The Girl in the Hoodie is Mine

Ella POV:

Okay, that was a close call.

Sure, I managed to escape my boss’s full-blown wrath for being late, but only because Jason swooped in just in time to order something. One thing my boss obsesses over is customer satisfaction, and apparently, attending to Jason was more important than him chewing me out.

But let’s not celebrate too soon. Just because I avoided a public lecture didn’t mean I got off scot-free. No, my ever-so-gracious boss decided to add the hours I was late to the end of my shift. So, lucky me—I’d be closing tonight. Yay.

As if I wasn’t exhausted already.

I adjusted my apron, making my way back to the counter, where the other waitress shot me a smug look before heading out. I couldn’t blame her for leaving on time, but the sight of her casually grabbing her bag while I prepared for an extended shift? That stung a little.

I tried not to let it get to me as I approached Jason’s table with his order. This time, I plastered on a smile, determined not to look like the frazzled mess I felt like inside.

"Thanks for what you did earlier," I said, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other as I set his food down.

Jason looked up at me, his expression softening into a small, genuine smile. "No problem."

That was... nice. It caught me off guard. Usually, Jason was more on the cocky, playful side, but this? This was different.

Before I could dwell on it, Max, being Max, called out to me, stealing the moment.

"Ella, would you come to our last match?"

I turned to him, raising an eyebrow as he gave me his most over-the-top puppy dog eyes. Really? The audacity.

Then, like a chorus of dorks, Jason and Dylan both looked at me expectantly. Great. Now I was under the spotlight.

"Pleaseee," Max begged, dragging out the word dramatically.

I let out a small laugh, more out of disbelief than anything else. "We’ll see about that," I said, trying to keep my tone neutral as I turned to head back to the counter.

"You’ll cheer for me, right?" Max called after me, his voice teasing.

That caught me off guard enough that I nearly stumbled. I cleared my throat and gripped the tray a little tighter. "We’ll see," I replied, tossing the words over my shoulder as casually as I could manage.

As I stepped away, I felt their gazes follow me, lingering longer than I was comfortable with. Jason’s especially. It wasn’t that he said much—it was how he looked at me. Like he was trying to figure me out, piece by piece.

And maybe I should’ve been annoyed by it. But instead, I felt a small, stupid flutter of something in my chest that I wasn’t ready to deal with.

Focus, Ella. You’ve got a long shift ahead.

Was I going to go to that match?

I know, I know—that’s the billion-dollar question, and you all want to know. But guess what? I don’t know either.

Seriously, it’ll depend on so many things. The time. The weather. My mood. How lazy I feel when the moment comes. There are just too many factors to consider. And honestly? It’s hard to commit to anything when your body feels like it’s been running on fumes for weeks.

The logical part of me—the one that still clings to some semblance of responsibility—was already making excuses. I mean, I had a lot to do. There’s work, figuring out my post-graduation plans, and, let’s be honest, just catching up on sleep sounded like a much better way to spend my time.

But then there was the other part of me. The part that knew Jason, Max, and Dylan genuinely wanted me to go. The way they looked at me earlier—hopeful, expectant—like my presence would make some kind of difference.

Ugh, why did they have to do that? Why couldn’t they just let me be a grumpy, overworked diner girl in peace?

I sighed, shaking my head at myself as I wiped down a table. I wasn’t committing to anything, not yet. We’d see how things played out when the time came.

But deep down, a tiny, traitorous voice whispered that maybe—just maybe—I already knew what my decision would be.

After they finished their food, they left a tip. And not just any tip—a big one. It was like they were trying to outdo each other, tossing bills onto the table like it was some silent competition. Honestly? Let them fight; it only makes me richer.

As they got up to leave, they all said good night—even Dylan, who I was sure would sulk forever. They talked about how their big day was coming up, throwing in a few guilt-trip lines about how it was their last game and how we’re all graduating soon. Typical defense tactics, but I wasn’t about to give them any promises.

Jason stayed behind while the other two goofballs walked out, still chatting and laughing about something I couldn’t hear. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there fidgeting like a kid caught stealing cookies.

I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to spit it out. He finally did.

"Could I... uh, take you home after your shift?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck like it was the most awkward question in the world.

I tilted my head, trying not to smile. "Jason, I’ll be late. You need your rest for your big game."

His face fell for half a second before he recovered, quickly masking it with a nonchalant shrug. "Alright, fair enough," he said, flashing me a lopsided smile. "I’ll, uh, text you later then."

And just like that, he turned and walked out, leaving me standing there.

It wasn’t a bad offer, really. But the last thing I wanted was to make him wait around while I slogged through the rest of my shift. Besides, he had his big game tomorrow. He needed his sleep more than I needed a ride.

Still, the thought lingered as I went back to clearing tables.

Wait. Hold up. Was I... contemplating letting Jason take me home? Because my reply wasn’t a definite "no." Oh, mama, what have I turned into?

Jeez, this is really not me. This isn’t the Ella I know—the one with strict boundaries and a no-nonsense attitude. And we can’t even blame it on cramps or finals, can we? Nope. This is definitely on me.

But... maybe I can chalk it up to being nice since he swooped in and saved me from my boss’s awful tirade? That’s reasonable, right? A simple act of gratitude?

Ugh. Who am I kidding? The way I hesitated, the way my voice didn’t immediately shut him down—it’s like I’m morphing into someone I barely recognize. 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

I sighed, rubbing my temple as I wiped down the table. Okay, so maybe Jason isn’t the worst. Maybe he’s thoughtful. And maybe, just maybe, I didn’t hate the idea of him walking me home.

But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to admit it. Definitely not.

Good Lord, I need divine intervention.

Like, a full-on burning bush moment or maybe an angel descending with a glowing "STOP THIS NONSENSE" sign. Something. Anything. Because clearly, I’m losing my grip on reality.

How else do you explain me—me—even thinking about letting Jason walk me home? The same Jason who makes my stomach do those stupid flips I pretend don’t happen. The same Jason who somehow gets under my skin in the most infuriatingly charming way.

I dropped into a chair, letting out a long, frustrated groan. This is not who I am. I don’t second-guess myself. I don’t let people—especially guys like Jason—worm their way into my carefully constructed walls.

But here I am, overanalyzing a simple offer to walk me home like it’s some life-altering decision.

Get it together, Ella. Focus. Finals are done, the diner shift is almost over, and all I need to do is get through the next few hours. Then I can go home, crawl into bed, and pretend this entire day—and Jason—don’t exist.

Easy, right? Right?

God, help me.

So, yeah, I closed up when my shift was finally over. The lights were dimmed, chairs stacked, and the lingering scent of fried food was something I wouldn’t miss. As I locked the doors, my eyes couldn’t help but dart around, scanning the street. For what, you ask? Oh, just a certain someone.

See? I told you. I need help.

A big, dramatic sigh escaped me when I didn’t spot him. Great. Now I’m disappointed he’s not here? What is wrong with me? Shaking my head at myself, I plugged in my earbuds and cranked up the music—some angsty ballad about resisting temptation. Fitting, right?

I started my trek home, the cool night air brushing against my skin. My feet ached, my back screamed, and all I could think about was how good my bed would feel. Then, just as I was starting to zone out, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

Curiosity won over exhaustion, and I fished it out. A message from Jason.