The Girl in the Hoodie is Mine

Ella POV:

As the speeches ended and the ceremony transitioned into handing out degrees, I found myself wishing I could disappear. But, no, the universe wasn’t about to let me off the hook.

My name was called, and I rose from my seat, keeping my head down as I walked to the stage. Every step felt heavier than the last, the weight of countless eyes pressing down on me like a physical force.

When I finally reached the stage, I noticed the subtle shift in the professors’ demeanor as they handed me my degree certificate.

The usual smiles they wore were tighter, more forced. Their handshakes were stiffer, their posture slightly more formal.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

Who else to blame if not the father of the year? Yeah, mine. Note the sarcasm.

It wasn’t every day the Kingsley name echoed through the halls of an academic institution like this. Sure, the professors had always been professional, but now? Now they looked like they were walking on eggshells, as if the slightest misstep might cost them their jobs.

"Congratulations, Miss Kingsley," the Dean said, his voice overly polite.

Miss Kingsley.

Not Ella. Not Miss Ella. Just Kingsley.

It was like my last name had become this giant neon sign hanging over my head, flashing brightly for all to see. I plastered on the most neutral smile I could muster and accepted the certificate with a quiet "Thank you."

The applause was polite but tinged with an awkwardness I could feel in my bones.

As I made my way back to my seat, the whispers followed me like a shadow.

"That’s his daughter?"

"No wonder she’s the valedictorian."

"I can’t believe she was hiding this the whole time."

"Did she even have to work for it?"

Yep, here we go. Let the assumptions begin.

I clenched my jaw and kept walking, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze. My grip tightened around the certificate in my hands, the edges digging into my palms.

This was exactly why I’d kept my identity hidden. I didn’t want to be "Kingsley’s daughter." I wanted to be Ella. Just Ella.

When I sat back down, I let my hair fall over my face, a curtain shielding me from the stares.

I could feel them, though. The judgment. The curiosity. The envy.

It didn’t matter that I’d worked my ass off for this degree, pulling all-nighters, juggling assignments, and surviving on little more than caffeine and sheer determination. To them, I’d just become another rich kid handed everything on a silver platter.

As the ceremony dragged on, I kept my focus on my hands, fiddling with the edge of the certificate.

The rest of the students received their degrees, the applause fading into the background as my thoughts raced.

What happens now?

My father being here changed everything. It wasn’t just the professors and students who knew now—it was the entire university. And if word got out, it wouldn’t stop there. The media would have a field day.

And Jason.

I hadn’t dared to look at him since my father’s speech. I couldn’t bear to see the look on his face—whether it was confusion, anger, or disappointment.

Jason had always treated me like... well, me. The sarcastic, hoodie-wearing girl who didn’t care what people thought.

Now, I wasn’t sure what he’d think of me.

As the ceremony finally came to an end, the graduates were herded together for photos. I reluctantly joined the group, keeping to the edge and praying no one would approach me.

But, of course, the universe had other plans.

"Ella!"

I turned, already knowing who it was.

Jason, flanked by Dylan and Max, was pushing through the crowd toward me. His limp was more pronounced as he navigated the sea of graduates, but he didn’t seem to care.

"Hey," he said when he finally reached me, his tone a mix of disbelief and something else I couldn’t quite place. "So... that was unexpected."

I crossed my arms and gave him a look. "What? The part where my dad showed up unannounced or the part where he outed me in front of everyone?"

Jason winced. "Both, I guess."

Dylan and Max hovered awkwardly behind him, clearly unsure of what to say.

"Look, Ella," Jason started, running a hand through his hair. "I just... I didn’t know. About you. About your family."

"No one did," I said flatly. "That was the point."

He nodded, looking uncharacteristically serious. "I get that. I do. And I’m not going to pretend I understand what it’s like to be you, but..." He hesitated, glancing at Dylan and Max as if for backup.

"But we’re still your friends," Dylan said, stepping forward. "Even if you are, like, stupidly rich."

"Yeah," Max chimed in. "And for the record, we don’t care if your dad owns half the planet. You’re still Ella. Hoodie and all."

Their sincerity caught me off guard.

Jason nodded, his gaze steady. "You’re still you. And I’m still me. And nothing about this changes that."

For the first time since my father’s speech, I felt a small weight lift off my shoulders.

"Thanks," I said quietly, a genuine smile tugging at my lips.

Maybe, just maybe, things wouldn’t fall apart after all.

As the photo session wound down, I knew my window of opportunity was shrinking. My father, with his overprotective nature and flair for theatrics, would be waiting to swoop in any moment. If I didn’t act fast, I’d find myself shoved into his limousine and carted off to God-knows-where before I could even think.

I turned to Max, catching his attention. "Max," I called out.

He raised an eyebrow, his ever-present grin already in place. "Yes, oh richest girl in the world? What can I do for you?"

I rolled my eyes at his teasing tone but motioned for him to come closer. He leaned in, curious.

"I need a favor," I said quietly, glancing around to ensure no one overheard us.

"Anything," he replied, his grin widening.

I beckoned him closer, whispering my plan into his ear. He chuckled, his eyes lighting up with mischief. "Seriously?" he asked, clearly amused.

I nodded.

"Well, alright then," he said, pulling out his phone. "Let me make a call and get it sorted."

While Max handled his part, I slipped away to the nearest restroom. If I was going to pull this off, I needed to make a quick transformation. My father wasn’t stupid, and neither were his people. If I wanted to get away unnoticed, I had to shed every trace of "Ella Kingsley, valedictorian and heir to the Kingsley empire."

Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I quickly got to work.

First, I grabbed a pair of scissors from the counter—bless the kind soul who left them there—and made an improvised slit up the side of my graduation gown, all the way to my thigh. Functional and stylish, if I did say so myself.

Next, I twisted my hair into a messy bun, tucking it high on my head. The loose waves and dramatic curls that my stylist had insisted on earlier now made me look like I belonged on a magazine cover. Great for graduation photos, not so much for a covert escape.

Then came the shoes. I couldn’t exactly run—or ride, for that matter—in heels. I snapped the heels clean off, turning them into makeshift flats.

Finally, I shrugged off the heavy graduation gown. That thing weighed a ton and screamed "formal occasion." I folded it neatly and tucked it under my arm.

Satisfied with my appearance, I stepped out of the restroom to find Max waiting by the curb.

And there it was.

His blue motorcycle.

Max stepped aside, gesturing dramatically at the gleaming blue motorcycle like it was a prized steed. "Ella," he said, his grin wide and full of mischief. "Your ride awaits."

I couldn’t help but laugh, though nerves bubbled under the surface. "Thanks, Max," I said, a small smile breaking through the storm of thoughts swirling in my head.

He held out a helmet, and I took it without hesitation. The moment my fingers curled around the straps, I felt the weight of my decision settle in. No turning back now.

I slipped the helmet on, tightening the straps and pulling it snug against my chin. As I adjusted the visor, my gaze flickered to the side, and there he was—Jason.

He was standing a few feet away, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his jaw clenched so hard I thought it might crack. His eyes narrowed at Max, like he was seconds away from stomping over and yanking the helmet off my head.

"Typical Jason," I muttered under my breath.

His glare shifted to me, his expression a mix of annoyance, concern, and something else I couldn’t quite place. It was like he was trying to piece together what was happening but didn’t know how to stop it.

Max leaned casually against the bike, oblivious—or maybe just unfazed—by Jason’s growing frustration. "You good, Ella?" he asked, his voice teasing but with a hint of genuine concern.

I nodded, even as Jason took a step forward. "Ella—" he started, but I cut him off with a quick wave.

"Don’t worry about me," I said, trying to sound confident. "I’ve got this."

Jason’s jaw worked like he was biting back whatever retort was on the tip of his tongue. His hands clenched and unclenched, but he didn’t say another word.

"Alright," Max said, clapping his hands together. "Let’s get this show on the road."

I swung my leg over the bike, the modified gown giving me just enough freedom to move. The leather seat was cool against my legs, and the hum of the engine as Max started it sent a thrill through me.

Jason took another step forward, his brow furrowing deeply. "Ella, are you seriously—"

"Bye, Jason!" I called over the rumble of the engine, cutting him off again.

I gave a quick glance at Max, who winked and stepped back with a mock salute. "Good luck, Ella," he said, his tone playful.

"Thanks, Max," I said, smiling despite the chaos swirling in my mind. .

"You sure about this?" Max asked, giving me a knowing look.

"Absolutely," I replied, swinging my leg over the bike. The gown-turned-dress made it easier to mount, and I adjusted my grip on the handlebars.

"Alright then," Max said, stepping back. "Just try not to get yourself killed. I don’t want to explain this to your dad."

I smirked. "I’ll be fine."

With a deep breath, I revved the engine, the sound vibrating through my entire body. For a moment, I hesitated, looking back one last time. Jason was still standing there, his expression unreadable now, a mix of worry and something I didn’t have the energy to decipher.

And then, without another second of doubt, I twisted the throttle and sped off, the wind whipping against me as the campus blurred behind.