The Girl in the Hoodie is Mine

Ella POV:

Great, I thought as I caught sight of the three stooges staring at me from across the diner. There they were, Jason, Max, and Dylan, lined up like some kind of boyband with matching expressions of suspicion and surprise. It was almost impressive how synchronized their reactions were—like they’d just witnessed me commit a terrible crime, maybe even murder a puppy or something equally unforgivable.

Seriously, could a girl not even have a simple conversation with her godfather without triggering an inquisition?

I tried my best to play it cool, as if I hadn’t just been caught red-handed in some non-existent scandal. I ignored the trio’s gawking, gave a polite nod to the next customer who came up to the counter, and forced myself to look busy by rearranging menus that were already perfectly organized. But I could still feel their eyes on me, practically burning holes into the back of my head.

Ignore them, Ella. They’ll lose interest if you ignore them long enough, I told myself. Though I knew that was wishful thinking. The three of them had been shadowing me all day, sticking to me like glue, and I had no reason to believe they’d give up just because I wasn’t in the mood to chat.

Despite my best efforts to focus on work, I couldn’t help but sneak a glance in their direction. Yep, still staring. And now they looked... concerned? Suspicious? Maybe even a little betrayed?

Oh, come on! They were looking at me like I was some kind of double agent. It was almost laughable—if I didn’t feel so cornered. First, I was struggling with them prying into my life at school, and now this? It was like fate was determined to unravel every bit of my carefully crafted secrecy, piece by piece, right in front of them.

Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to turn back to the counter, pretending they weren’t there at all. I am just a waitress, I thought to myself, a simple, inconspicuous waitress. Nothing to see here, folks.

But deep down, I knew this wasn’t the last of it. I could practically feel their curiosity simmering, and I had no doubt that the next time they got the chance, they’d be interrogating me within an inch of my life about who Mr. Harris was and why I was meeting with him.

For now, though, I’d enjoy the few precious moments of peace behind the counter, pretending they didn’t exist, hoping against hope that my godfather’s visit would be the last surprise of the day.

But knowing those three... yeah, wishful thinking.

Jason POV:

Was everyone else seeing what I was seeing? Because I was starting to wonder if I was losing it. But when I glanced over at Max and Dylan, they had the same wide-eyed, slack-jawed expressions. So, yeah, it wasn’t just me.

Ella was standing by one of the booths, leaning in close, chatting with this older guy who looked like he had just strolled out of some high-powered boardroom. The man practically oozed wealth and authority—the expensive suit, the watch that probably cost as much as a car, the subtle but unmistakable aura of "I run things." And yet, there was Ella, talking to him like they were old friends, laughing even. Like she did this every day.

I couldn’t help but notice the sleek, dark luxury car parked outside the diner with a driver standing beside it, patiently waiting. I’d know that model anywhere—hell, only people with my dad’s kind of money drove those. But that wasn’t my father’s car, and that definitely wasn’t his driver.

A cold feeling crept into me as Max’s words from practice floated back into my head: the ridiculous claim he’d made about Ella having a sugar daddy. We’d laughed it off—nobody could believe it. Not her. Ella was stubborn, determined, too proud to take a shortcut like that. At least, that’s what I’d thought. But now, staring at her with this older man, who looked like he had a small empire behind him, I wasn’t so sure what to believe.

My mind raced, trying to come up with some logical explanation. Maybe it was just a family friend? Maybe he was some distant uncle? Or—no, scratch that. The way they were talking wasn’t how you’d talk to an uncle. It was... too familiar, but also somehow respectful. Like she valued this guy’s opinion, maybe even looked up to him.

I watched as she finally said her goodbyes, giving the man a brief, affectionate smile before he left the diner. She headed back behind the counter, completely oblivious to the fact that the three of us had just witnessed this whole exchange. And yet, as much as I wanted to believe it was innocent, there was this nagging doubt that wouldn’t let me shake it off.

I exchanged glances with Max and Dylan. They both looked as bewildered as I felt. Was this just a sick joke? Some twisted misunderstanding?

But the cold feeling in my gut told me otherwise.

And hell yeah, I was jealous.

I hated to admit it, but the sting was there, sharp and undeniable. Watching her with that man, seeing her laugh, look up at him like that... it bothered me more than it should have. There was something almost painful in the realization that maybe—just maybe—I didn’t know her as well as I thought. Here I was, completely wrapped up in this idea of Ella, the stubborn, hard-working, bike-riding girl with a fire in her eyes. And then, out of nowhere, she’s got this mystery man in her life, someone important enough to drop by the diner in a car that screamed power and wealth.

Jealousy was only half of it, though. The other half? Pure fear.

Because for the first time, I realized I might actually lose her. She was right there in front of me, but it felt like she was slipping through my fingers, like I was about to be left behind. Maybe this guy wasn’t just a "mystery man." What if he represented something bigger—some life I couldn’t touch, some world I didn’t belong to? What if she was playing her cards, setting herself up for a future that didn’t involve me at all?

I clenched my fists, trying to squash the unease twisting in my stomach. It was ridiculous, wasn’t it? There was no reason to feel threatened. And yet, watching her walk back to the counter without a second glance our way... it was like she’d already built walls between us. Walls I didn’t know how to break through.

It’s just a misunderstanding, I told myself, forcing myself to calm down. But the cold reality was that I might be losing her—and I had no idea what to do about it.

Dylan POV:

Max couldn’t possibly be right. He was joking when he threw out that idea, wasn’t he? Ella, with a sugar daddy? It sounded ridiculous. We’d all laughed it off, dismissed it immediately. I mean, she was Ella—the girl who could take care of herself, who didn’t seem to need or want anyone’s help. She worked hard, she was independent, and that was what made her different from the rest.

But now, seeing her in the diner, sitting there with this middle-aged man dressed in a suit that cost more than my entire wardrobe, I didn’t know what to think. They were close, like really close—laughing, talking with a kind of ease and familiarity that felt out of place for "just a customer." She wasn’t just serving him like any other client. She was... comfortable. Like they’d known each other for years. And that car parked outside? Definitely not something you’d expect to see in front of this little diner.

My brain was spinning. All those questions we had about her showing up to that party in a gown that looked straight out of a designer magazine—this suddenly felt like an answer I didn’t want to believe.

I mean, yeah, it made sense. Max had said maybe she had someone behind her, someone rich enough to foot the bill for things we didn’t understand. We laughed because, well, she was Ella. But now, seeing her interact with this guy, looking at him with that familiar smile, it was like she had this entire other life none of us knew about. And here she was, pulling the curtain back on it, whether she meant to or not.

A part of me wanted to run over there, confront her, ask her straight-up what was going on. But what if I didn’t like the answer? What if, after all this time, we were just fooling ourselves about who she really was?

For the first time, I was caught in this weird limbo where I didn’t know what to believe about her. And the thought... it kind of scared me.

There had to be some kind of explanation, right? This just couldn’t be.

I mean, this was Ella we were talking about. She was stubborn, independent, and proud. The kind of girl who worked late shifts and took care of things on her own. She didn’t rely on anyone. She didn’t want to be that girl—the one people whispered about, the one who took handouts or let someone else pull the strings. At least, that was what I thought. That was the Ella I knew... or thought I knew.

Max, Jason, and I stood there, watching as she spoke to this guy like he was some long-lost friend or mentor—or something else entirely. And yeah, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make my stomach twist a little. There was this part of me screaming that we were getting it all wrong, that we were jumping to conclusions like idiots. Ella wouldn’t do something like this. But then... what was I seeing right now?

Jason, beside me, looked just as confused. His face was twisted into something between anger and hurt—like he couldn’t decide if he was furious at her or at himself for not knowing whatever secret she might be hiding. And Max? Max was stone-cold silent, his eyes narrowed, as if he were trying to dissect every move they made, every look exchanged, every word spoken, trying to understand.

We all wanted answers, but none of us dared to step forward and ask. Not here, not now. The truth was, we were all a little scared of what we might hear if we did. Because if this was what it looked like, if Ella really did have some rich guy backing her, some kind of... arrangement... then it meant we’d been wrong about her all along. And maybe, just maybe, that was scarier than any truth we could imagine.

There had to be some explanation. Some reasonable, logical explanation. Ella wouldn’t betray who she was—not like this.