The Girl in the Hoodie is Mine

Jason POV:

One minute, I was scrolling through my phone, heading to the boys’ locker room to change into my basketball jersey for an early practice, trying to burn off this pent-up frustration. The next, my world flipped upside down.

I had gone early to clear my head—after everything with Ella, Max, and Dylan, I just needed the distraction. But then, I got a notification. It was from the school gossip site. Normally, I’d ignore it, but the title caught my eye: "Hoodie Girl Faces the Cops Down."

What the hell?

I clicked it immediately. There it was—a picture of Ella, handcuffed, being led into a police car. Her face was turned away, but I’d recognize that profile anywhere. My blood ran cold, and my heart started pounding like a jackhammer. What the fuck was going on?

Without even thinking, I shoved my phone into my pocket, grabbed my bag, and bolted out of the locker room. Practice, frustration, everything else—all forgotten. Panic took over.

Why would the cops arrest her? What were her charges? Was someone setting her up?

The questions kept spinning in my head as I raced toward the parking lot, not even bothering to check if anyone was in my way. I didn’t care. Ella needed me.

I was halfway to my car when I nearly collided with Max and Dylan.

"Jason, where the hell are you running off to?" Max asked, stepping back before I plowed into him.

I barely caught my breath as I blurted it out. "It’s Ella. She’s been arrested."

Their jaws dropped. "What?" Dylan’s voice rose, laced with disbelief.

"I saw it on the gossip site—there’s a picture of her in handcuffs," I said, my voice shaking with urgency. "I’m heading to the station now."

Max exchanged a look with Dylan before nodding. "Let’s go."

Without another word, we all sprinted to our cars. For once, there was no competition, no bickering, no ulterior motives. Just one goal: getting to Ella.

I hopped into my car, barely waiting for the engine to roar to life before peeling out of the parking lot. Dylan and Max followed close behind. My hands gripped the wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white.

I couldn’t stop the flood of thoughts racing through my mind. Who could’ve done this? Did someone set her up? Was this Amber’s doing, trying to claw her way back after her reputation tanked? Or was it something else entirely?

I didn’t care who it was. If I found out that someone had conspired to get Ella arrested, they’d be dealing with me.

But first, I had to get her out.

The drive to the station felt like an eternity, even though I was breaking every speed limit to get there. When I finally pulled into the lot, Max and Dylan parked right behind me. We didn’t even bother locking our cars as we stormed toward the entrance.

As we were busy jumping out of our cars, panting from the rush to get here, the station doors swung open. My heart almost stopped when I saw her. Ella was walking out, but she wasn’t alone. That old guy was with her again.

What the fuck! She had called him?

All the panic, all the adrenaline coursing through me to get here—just to find out she had turned to him. So much for me racing here, ready to do whatever it took to help her.

Her eyes locked with mine, and for a moment, she looked... surprised? Like she hadn’t expected me to show up. Did she seriously still not get that I would jump through any hoops for her? That I’d move heaven and earth if she needed me?

But no—she had to rely on that fucking old man.

The guy looked at us strangely, his sharp, observant eyes lingering as if he was sizing us up. But I didn’t care. I didn’t give a damn about him or what he thought. My focus was entirely on Ella.

Without thinking, I ran up to her.

"Are you okay?" I asked, my voice low and urgent. I searched her over with my eyes, looking for any signs that the cops had mistreated her. My hand itched to grab her arm, just to confirm that she was safe and unharmed, but I stopped myself. I didn’t want to push her away again, not after everything.

She blinked, caught off guard by my question. "I’m fine, Jason," she said, her tone flat, like it was no big deal.

"No, seriously," I pressed, stepping closer. "Did they hurt you? Did they do anything to you?" My mind was already imagining the worst.

Her expression softened just slightly, but before she could answer, he spoke up.

"She’s fine," the old man said, his voice calm but firm, like he was addressing a child. "It was all just a misunderstanding. It’s been sorted out."

I clenched my fists, resisting the urge to snap at him. Who the hell was he to speak for her?

"Ella can answer for herself," I shot back, my eyes never leaving hers.

She sighed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "He’s right. It was just a misunderstanding. Nothing serious."

"Nothing serious?" Dylan’s voice cut in as he and Max caught up to us. "Ella, we saw the photo. You were handcuffed."

Her jaw tightened at Dylan’s words, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of anger in her eyes. "I’m fine," she said, her voice more forceful this time.

But I wasn’t convinced. "Why were you arrested in the first place?" I asked, my voice softer now, trying to coax the truth out of her.

She hesitated, glancing at the old man like she was unsure if she should tell us. That look alone made my blood boil. Why was he the one she turned to? Why couldn’t she trust me?

"It’s personal," she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t want to talk about it."

"Personal?" Max said, stepping forward. "Ella, we rushed here for you. At least tell us what happened."

Her eyes darted between the three of us, frustration flashing across her face. "I don’t owe you an explanation," she snapped. "And I certainly didn’t ask you to come here."

Her words hit like a punch to the gut.

I opened my mouth to argue, but the old man cut in again.

"I think it’s best if we leave now," he said, his tone polite but firm. He placed a hand on Ella’s shoulder, guiding her toward his car like she was some damsel in distress.

Ella didn’t resist. She didn’t even look back at us as she got into his car.

I stood there, frozen, watching them drive away. My chest felt tight, like someone had squeezed all the air out of my lungs.

"She called him," Max muttered bitterly beside me.

"Yeah," Dylan said, his voice tinged with disappointment. "She called him."

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. All I could think about was the look in her eyes—the way she had chosen to trust that guy over us. Over me.

Who the hell was he to her? And why did she think she couldn’t rely on me?

Dylan POV:

We bumped into Jason as he was running like a man on a mission—or, more accurately, like a possessed lunatic. He looked frantic, his eyes wild with worry.

"Dude, where are you rushing to?" Max asked, frowning.

Jason barely stopped to catch his breath before blurting out, "Ella’s been arrested."

I swear my heart dropped to my stomach. Arrested? What the hell could she have done to end up in a police station? My mind raced through all the possibilities, but none of them made sense. Ella wasn’t the type to get in trouble—or at least, not the kind of trouble that involved handcuffs and cops.

"What?" Max barked, his eyes wide. "Arrested for what?"

"I don’t know," Jason snapped, already making his way toward the parking lot. "But we need to get to the station now."

Without hesitation, Max and I followed him, jumping into our cars and speeding toward the station. My pulse was pounding the whole way there, a mix of panic and dread twisting in my gut.

Why would they arrest her? Was it a setup? Did someone file a false report? The thought of Ella, quiet and stubborn Ella, being locked up in some grimy cell had my blood boiling. If someone had done this to her, I was ready to make them regret it.

When we pulled up to the station, Jason practically flew out of his car, not even bothering to lock it. Max and I were right on his heels, adrenaline surging as we bolted toward the entrance.

But then, before we could even step inside, the station doors swung open.

There she was. Ella.

For a moment, relief flooded through me. She wasn’t in cuffs anymore, and she looked unharmed. But then my eyes shifted, and I saw him.

That freaky old guy.

The relief vanished, replaced by a burning frustration. What the hell was he doing here? And why was Ella walking out with him like it was no big deal?

Jason froze for a second, his expression twisting into something between confusion and anger. I could feel the tension radiating off him.

"Is that... him again?" Max muttered under his breath.

"Yeah," I growled, my jaw tightening.

Ella’s eyes locked on us, and she stopped in her tracks. For a moment, her expression softened, like she hadn’t expected to see us here.

Jason didn’t waste a second. He ran up to her, his voice urgent. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you? What happened?"

Ella blinked, caught off guard by his concern. "I’m fine," she said, her tone flat, as if being arrested was just another ordinary event in her day.

Jason didn’t seem convinced. "No, seriously. Did they do anything to you? Who filed the complaint? Was it a setup?" He was practically buzzing with worry, and honestly, I couldn’t blame him.

"She’s fine," the old man cut in, his voice calm but patronizing, like we were a bunch of kids overreacting.

Jason shot him a glare. "Ella can speak for herself."

Ella sighed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "He’s right," she said, her voice quiet but firm. "It was just a misunderstanding. Nothing serious."

"Nothing serious?" Max said, stepping forward. "Ella, you were arrested. We saw the picture. You were *handcuffed*."

Her jaw tightened at Max’s words, and I saw a flicker of annoyance in her eyes. "I’m fine," she repeated, her tone sharper this time.

"Why were you arrested?" I asked, trying to keep my voice calm but firm.

She hesitated, glancing at the old man like she wasn’t sure if she should tell us. That glance alone made my blood boil. Why was she looking at *him* for reassurance? Why wasn’t she trusting us?

"It’s personal," she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t want to talk about it."

"Personal?" Max repeated, his frustration evident. "Ella, we rushed here for you. The least you can do is tell us what’s going on."

Her eyes darted between the three of us, frustration building on her face. "I don’t owe you an explanation," she snapped. "And I certainly didn’t ask you to come here."

Ouch.

Her words hit like a slap to the face, but before any of us could respond, the old man stepped in again.

"I think it’s best if we leave now," he said, his tone polite but firm. He placed a hand on Ella’s shoulder, guiding her toward his car like she was some fragile doll he had to protect.

Ella didn’t resist. She didn’t even look back at us as she got into his car.

Jason stood there, frozen, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. I could tell he was barely holding himself together.

"She called him," Max muttered bitterly, breaking the silence.

"Yeah," I said, my voice laced with disappointment. "She called *him*."

Jason didn’t respond. He just stood there, staring at the spot where Ella had disappeared.

I couldn’t help but feel the sting of betrayal. We had dropped everything to help her, but she hadn’t even wanted us there. She hadn’t even trusted us enough to explain.

And that old guy—who the hell was he? And why was she relying on him instead of us?

One thing was clear: this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.