The Girl in the Hoodie is Mine

Ella POV :

Days have been flying by in a blur—classes, shifts at the diner, and juggling my project for the LBJ competition. I barely had time to breathe, let alone think about anything else. This was the final week before the competition, and the pressure was mounting. My sleep-deprived brain was running on fumes, but I had to push through. There was no other choice.

One thing kept gnawing at the back of my mind, though—Jason. I hadn’t seen him all week. He’d been skipping a lot of classes, and for some reason, that made me anxious. Jason, missing classes? That wasn’t like him. He was always the cocky overachiever, so if he was skipping, then I could only assume he was holed up somewhere, working on his project.

And if Jason was working on something for the competition, that meant real competition for me.

I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. I wasn’t sure if I was more anxious about the idea of him actually beating me, or about the fact that his absence was making me miss his annoying presence. Either way, I didn’t like it. The thought of Jason, always so close yet so out of reach, had become part of my routine. As much as he irritated me, I was used to him being around. And now that he wasn’t? It was throwing me off balance.

I groaned, shaking my head. Focus, Ella, I told myself. I didn’t have time to worry about Jason and his mysterious disappearance. If I wanted to win, I had to put everything into this project. Besides, this competition was my ticket to proving myself—to everyone, including my dad.

But still, the nagging thought lingered. What if Jason’s project was better? What if he was miles ahead of me, plotting his big reveal while I was stuck here, barely holding it together?

No, I couldn’t let myself think that way. If Jason wanted a competition, I’d give him one. And I wasn’t about to back down.

Amber was a whole other story. Ever since she came back after her little disappearance, she’d been strutting around like she owned the place—acting like her fall from grace never happened. And now, with this LBJ competition on the horizon, she was running her mouth about how she was sure to win.

Every chance she got, she’d remind everyone within earshot that her proposal was going to blow the judges away, that she had this in the bag. She was so overly confident that it made me suspicious. There was no way she’d just bounce back like that after everything. She wasn’t exactly the resilient type.

She’s definitely up to something.

I couldn’t help but wonder if she was planning to play dirty. It was totally Amber’s style—using her daddy’s money or connections to try and cheat her way to the top. I bet she already had some under-the-table deal going, or she hired someone to come up with her entire project. That’s just who she was: all flash, no substance. The idea of hard work was foreign to her.

But if she thought that was going to work in this competition, she had another thing coming. This wasn’t high school drama; this was the real world. And money or no money, if she thought she could just walk in and claim the prize without breaking a sweat, she was delusional.

Still, her smug attitude made me uneasy. She was too sure of herself, too calm. And that meant I had to keep my guard up—because when people like Amber got too comfortable, it usually meant they had something nasty up their sleeve.

Well, let her try. I wasn’t about to let someone like Amber Prescott steal this from me. If she wanted a fight, she was going to get one.

Before the professor left the class, he casually dropped a bombshell: "The LBJ Company has organized a party where the CEO will be revealed. All competitors are required to attend."

Great. A business party.

I wasn’t new to them—I’d been dragged to a few by my father over the years—but God, how much I hated them. The small talk, the fake smiles, everyone trying to one-up each other with their successes. It was exhausting, and the last thing I needed right now was to spend an evening surrounded by people pretending to be important.

But then it hit me—oh, crap.

Business parties meant media coverage, especially with a mystery CEO being revealed. Cameras. Reporters. Photos. My photo could easily end up on the front page of some paper or on social media, and it wouldn’t take long for people to put two and two together.

Shit.

I was royally screwed. If my face got out there, my whole cover could be blown. The last thing I needed was for someone to dig into my background and start asking questions I wasn’t prepared to answer. The Kingsley name wasn’t something I flaunted, but in a setting like this, surrounded by business sharks, the risk was too high.

I was going to have to be careful. Blend in without drawing too much attention, but that wasn’t exactly easy when you were competing for a deal with a high-profile company. Damn it, I hadn’t thought this through.

What the hell am I going to do?

Sitting there, mid-panic, I didn’t even notice Amber slithering her way over until she was right in front of me. Of course. Just what I needed.

She stood there with that smug smirk plastered on her face, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. "Oh, well, some people clearly shouldn’t bother coming," she started, flipping her hair over her shoulder like she was the queen of the universe. "I don’t think rugs are allowed, but maybe, just maybe, they should check if they’re hiring waitresses. At least then, you could say you attended."

Ooh, you snake. My fists clenched under the table, nails digging into my palms to stop myself from launching at her. This was classic Amber—taking jabs at my job because she thought it made her superior. The fact that she had to hire people to do her project for her while I was working my ass off was completely lost on her.

I took a deep breath, forcing a smile as sweet as poison. "Well, Amber, you know what they say—at least as a waitress, I’d have a job that actually involves working hard. You should try it sometime. Might build some character."

Her eyes flared for a split second, the mask slipping. That’s right. I wasn’t going to let her get to me. Not today. Not when I had way bigger problems to deal with. Still, the satisfaction of seeing her squirm, even for a moment, made it worth it.

She crossed her arms, her smirk returning. "Oh, don’t worry, Ella. By the end of this competition, we’ll see who’s working for who."

"Sure," I said, my voice dripping with fake politeness. "We’ll see."

Amber strutted off like she’d just won some invisible battle, but I wasn’t fazed. I had more important things to worry about than her pathetic attempts at insults. The party, the media coverage, the competition—I had to focus.

Still, a part of me couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when she realized I wasn’t someone she could just walk all over.