The Girl in the Hoodie is Mine

Ella POV:

Okay, let me just say—today was the best. No exams, no late-night cramming, no alarms blaring me awake. Just pure, uninterrupted, glorious sleep.

I’d waited for this day like a kid waits for Christmas morning, and oh boy, it didn’t disappoint. I slept in so long I’m pretty sure I broke some kind of record. When I finally woke up, it wasn’t because my body had enough rest; it was because my stomach was staging a hunger strike.

Dragging myself out of bed, I rummaged through the kitchen for food, threw together something edible, and scarfed it down like I hadn’t eaten in weeks. Once my belly was full, I hopped in the shower, letting the hot water work its magic. By the time I’d finished my routine—clean hair, clean skin, clean everything—it was already close to 3 PM.

With an hour to kill before my shift started, I figured I’d check my phone. That’s when I saw Jason’s text.

A good morning text.

From Jason.

I stared at it for a second, my thumb hovering over the screen. It was sweet, sure, but... he called me sunshine. Sunshine.

What even?

I didn’t know how to feel about it, so I did what I do best—I ignored it. Besides, it wasn’t technically morning for me anyway. No reply was better than a half-hearted one, right?

To kill time, I went through the contract I’d be signing tomorrow with Black Empire. Everything was set—the terms, the agreement, my partnership as their second-biggest shareholder. Tomorrow, it would all be official.

The thought made me smile.

They didn’t even know I was the Kingsley daughter, the one whose father was their fiercest competitor. I didn’t lie; they knew my last name. But thanks to my dad’s obsession with keeping our family out of the public eye, they never made the connection.

Their ignorance was my golden ticket.

I even upped my makeup game for our meetings, tweaking my look just enough to tone down the resemblance between my face and my father’s. A little contour here, a little highlight there—voilà, problem solved.

By the time 4 PM rolled around, I was stepping into the diner, ready to clock in for my shift. I was on time, and for once, I felt good about it.

Today was payday.

And, most importantly, it was my last day working here.

Finally.

Today was a slow day at the diner, which honestly felt like a blessing. Not many customers trickled in, and the quiet atmosphere gave me a rare chance to just breathe. No scrambling from table to table, no impatient patrons glaring at me while I balanced trays like a circus act.

I could feel the hours creeping by, but for once, I didn’t mind. It gave me time to think, to let the reality of it all sink in. This was my last day here. The end of an era.

I leaned against the counter, watching the occasional customer come and go. The bell over the door would chime softly now and then, but even that felt subdued, like the universe was giving me a gentle send-off.

Some of the regulars stopped by, the kind ones who tipped well and always had a smile. They wished me luck when I casually mentioned I wouldn’t be around anymore. It was bittersweet.

As I wiped down tables that didn’t really need it, I thought about everything—the exams, the diner, the contract waiting for me tomorrow. Life felt like it was shifting gears, moving me into a whole new Chapter.

And then, of course, there was *Jason.*

I hadn’t replied to his text from earlier, and now it was itching at the back of my mind. He’d been sweet last night, staying up with me on the phone like we were in some kind of rom-com.

But this wasn’t a movie, and I wasn’t the girl who melted over a guy’s goodnight texts... Was I?

The thought made me scowl at myself. I wasn’t ready to answer that question, so I shoved it aside.

Instead, I focused on the present. The slow, steady rhythm of the diner. My last shift. My last paycheck.

Tomorrow, everything would change.

Okay, I’ll admit it. This is my second time looking up as the bell over the entrance rang. I told myself it was just a reflex, but let’s not kid ourselves—I was waiting. Waiting for a certain trio of goofballs who usually came barreling in around this time.

But it was almost their usual arrival time, and they still hadn’t shown up. The diner was quiet, and the minutes dragged. My hands moved automatically, wiping down the counter, arranging napkins—busy work to keep myself distracted.

Then, my phone chimed.

I know, I know. Checking my phone during work hours is technically against the rules. But it was just a little peek. A quick glance wouldn’t hurt, right?

The message was from Jason.

"Hey, Ella. We’re not coming tonight. Coach is on a rampage—wants us all at home, resting for tomorrow’s game. Something about being laser-focused or whatever. Just wanted to let you know. Don’t miss me too much 😉."

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes, though a small smile tugged at my lips. Of course, Jason would add that last part.

Rumor had it their coach was borderline possessed when it came to these games, especially when the stakes were high like this. International tournaments were no joke, and apparently, that meant no diner visits, no socializing, just strict orders to stay home and "rest."

I sighed, slipping my phone back into my pocket. Well, that explained their absence. Not that I was waiting for them or anything...

Right?

This has officially been the longest shift ever. Time seemed to have ground to a halt, each minute dragging on for what felt like an eternity.

The diner was unusually slow today, which normally I wouldn’t mind—it made things less chaotic. But today? The quiet was deafening, and the hours felt heavier with every tick of the clock.

I wiped the same section of the counter for the third time, my mind wandering. Maybe it was because there wasn’t the usual loud chatter of a certain group of goofballs filling the space. Or maybe it was just the weird energy in the air—something about the lull between exams being over and everything else in life beginning to pick up again.

Whatever it was, it was driving me insane.

The bell above the door jingled, and I snapped my head up. Just another couple of regulars coming in. Not who I’d subconsciously hoped to see. Great.

With a sigh, I grabbed the coffee pot and headed to their table. "What can I get you?" I asked, pasting on a polite smile.

"Just coffee, thanks," one of them said, barely looking up from his phone.

Back at the counter, I refilled the pot unnecessarily. Anything to keep my hands busy. I couldn’t stop thinking about Jason’s text earlier, the way he’d casually dropped a "Don’t miss me too much" like it wasn’t going to stick in my head for the rest of the shift.

This was going to be a long night.

As the clock struck 9 PM, I felt an immense wave of relief. Finally, my shift was over.

My boss called me over to collect my paycheck before clocking out, handing me the neatly bundled cash. I stood there for a moment, staring at it. This was it—the last paycheck I’d ever collect from this place. It was surreal, a mix of bittersweet and freeing.

Stuffing the money into my bag, I grabbed my coat and walked out into the cool night air. The diner faded behind me with every step, a Chapter officially closing.

Walking down the familiar streets toward home, my mind kept drifting to the game tomorrow. Jason’s face popped into my head, along with his ridiculous messages from earlier. Don’t miss me too much, he’d said. That goofy grin of his flashed in my thoughts, uninvited but not entirely unwelcome.

I sighed, pulling my coat tighter around me. My decision was made.

Yeah, I’d go to the game.

But not for the reasons you’d think. Okay, maybe partly for Jason and his dumb grin, but mostly because... I don’t know. It was their last game, and something about that felt significant. Like a goodbye to this whole college experience, even if it was more theirs than mine.

And fine, maybe I wanted to see Jason in his element, just once. For someone who annoyed me endlessly, he somehow made me feel seen in a way not many people did.

So, yeah. I’d go. Not that I’d ever admit that to his face.

As I walked the last stretch to my apartment, the cool night air seemed to clear my head a bit. My decision was final—I’d go to the game tomorrow. But now came the harder part: pretending it wasn’t a big deal.

I fumbled with my keys at the door, finally managing to unlock it and step into the quiet solitude of my space. Tossing my bag onto the nearest chair, I kicked off my shoes and sighed. The warmth of home was a welcome change from the diner’s constant buzz.

After a quick shower, I slipped into my comfiest pajamas and flopped onto the couch, phone in hand.

That’s when it hit me—should I text him?

It was an innocent thought, really. Just a simple "Goodnight, good luck tomorrow." It wasn’t like it would mean anything... right?

I stared at the blank message screen, Jason’s name at the top. My fingers hovered over the keyboard.

Goodnight, Jason. Good luck tomorrow.

No, that sounded too formal. I deleted it.

Knock them dead tomorrow, captain.

Ugh, too flirty. Backspace again.

Good luck with your game, don’t mess it up.

I groaned, putting the phone down beside me. Why was this so hard? It wasn’t like he’d overthink a goodnight text. But then again, Jason being Jason, he’d probably read into it and find a way to tease me about it forever.

I leaned back against the cushions, my mind swirling with possibilities. The phone screen dimmed, and I knew I wasn’t sending anything tonight.

Instead, I turned off the light and climbed into bed, pulling the blanket up to my chin. As my eyes fluttered shut, the thought lingered.

Would Jason even care if I sent a goodnight text? Probably not. But maybe, just maybe, he’d smile if I did.

I fell asleep before I could overthink it anymore, dreams of a certain grinning goofball sneaking into my mind.