The Girl in the Hoodie is Mine

Ella POV:

Just when I thought the day might finally start looking up, customers began trickling into the diner. Normally, I’d be relieved to have something to do other than watch the TV or clean the same counter for the hundredth time. But today, I wasn’t exactly feeling enthusiastic.

Still, the shift in my boss’s mood was a welcome change. He seemed lighter on his feet, even if it was only because the till was starting to ring. But of course, his lighter mood didn’t mean I was off the hook.

"Elly!" he barked from his office door, waving his hand impatiently. "Keep that smile plastered on your face! Customers don’t want to see a frown!"

As if I haven’t heard this a hundred times before. I forced a bright, polite grin, the kind that didn’t quite reach my eyes, and approached the counter to take orders.

"Don’t keep them waiting!" my boss hollered again, as though I hadn’t already picked up the pace.

"Yes, sir," I muttered through gritted teeth, my customer-service smile still intact.

Breathe, Ella, I told myself. One customer at a time, and I’d get through this shift.

The orders started piling up, and the once-empty diner transformed into a chaotic whirlwind of chatter, clinking dishes, and the scent of greasy food. And with each new customer came a fresh wave of my boss’s demands as he supervised more like yelled:

"Elly! Wipe that table down!"

"Elly! Don’t forget the ketchup!"

"Elly! The fries are up; what are you waiting for?"

I was this close to snapping back with "Maybe if you hired more staff, you wouldn’t have to yell every five seconds," but I bit my tongue.

Don’t lose your temper, I reminded myself. After all, this job was the only thing paying my bills right now, and I couldn’t afford to lose it over a bad attitude.

By the time the dinner rush started to slow, my feet were aching, my back was sore, and my patience was running dangerously thin. I leaned against the counter for a moment, allowing myself a small breather.

The TV in the corner was still playing the news, though the Prescott saga had been replaced by a weather report. A small part of me wished I could trade places with the news anchor—just sit at a desk and talk all day, instead of running around taking orders and dodging my boss’s constant nagging.

"Elly! Don’t just stand there!"

And there it is again. My moment of peace was gone as quickly as it came.

Just as I thought I might catch a small break, the diner door chimed. My heart sank when I saw them walk in—the three Grim Brothers themselves. Jason, Max, and Dylan. They looked like they’d been through hell, with dark circles under their eyes and slouched postures that screamed exhaustion. Jason’s hair was a mess, Max looked like he had been attacked by a racoon, and Dylan seemed like he was ready to collapse right there.

Oh, great. Just great.

I groaned inwardly, rolling my eyes toward the ceiling. Was the universe testing my patience today? Because if it was, I was definitely failing. First, the Prescott mess on the news and Amber self righteousness, then my boss yelling every five minutes, and now these three walking disasters. This day couldn’t possibly get any worse.

The three of them trudged to a booth in the corner like zombies, dropping heavily onto the seats. For a second, I thought they might just pass out right there, but no—Jason caught sight of me. Of course, he did.

His tired eyes brightened just slightly, but it wasn’t enough to soften the scowl that instantly formed on my face.

"Elly," my boss called from the kitchen. "Table five—don’t keep them waiting!"

Of course, table five. Their table. Because why wouldn’t the universe throw me this bone on a day when I was already walking a tightrope of annoyance?

I grabbed my notepad and plastered on the fakest smile I could manage. Taking a deep breath, I walked over to them, my sneakers squeaking faintly on the linoleum floor.

"What can I get for you three?" I asked, keeping my tone as neutral as possible, though my annoyance was simmering just beneath the surface.

Jason was the first to respond, of course. "We’ll start with three coffees. Strong ones," he said, his voice raspy, like he hadn’t spoken in hours.

"Anything else?" I asked, pen poised over my notepad.

Max waved a hand dismissively, not even bothering to look at me. "Just the coffee for now."

Dylan was uncharacteristically quiet, staring out the window as if the world outside held all the answers to his problems. For once, I appreciated his silence.

"Fine," I muttered, turning on my heel and walking back to the counter.

I couldn’t help but glance at them over my shoulder as I waited for their coffee. They looked like they’d been hit by a truck—emotionally and physically drained. Normally, I’d let myself feel a little sympathy for them, but today? Nope. Not happening.

Jason liked me. Max and Dylan might and that a big might like me. And they all thought it was perfectly okay to complicate my life further with their messy feelings. Like I didn’t already have enough to deal with. And now here they were, invading my place of work, looking like lost puppies who expected me to fix whatever was wrong with them.

Not my circus, not my monkeys.

I grabbed the coffee pot and poured three mugs, slamming each one down onto a tray. If they wanted a shoulder to cry on, they were barking up the wrong tree. The most they were getting from me today was coffee.

As I returned to their table and set the mugs down in front of them, Jason glanced up at me, his eyes searching mine.

"Ella—" he started, but I cut him off.

"Let me stop you right there," I said, holding up a hand. "I’m not in the mood for whatever it is you’re about to say. Drink your coffee, tip well, and don’t make my day worse than it already is."

Jason looked taken aback, and for a split second, I thought he might argue. But then he closed his mouth, nodded, and took a sip of his coffee.

Max and Dylan stayed silent, their heads bowed over their mugs like the caffeine might bring them back to life.

"Good," I said, turning away before they could say anything else.

I had enough on my plate without adding their drama to the mix. And if they thought they could win me over with tired eyes and brooding looks, they had another thing coming.

As I returned to the counter, pretending to busy myself with wiping down an already-clean surface, I couldn’t help but overhear Max grumbling. His voice carried just loud enough to reach me.

"Man, Coach was savage today," he muttered, leaning back in the booth. "All because we were late. My legs feel like jelly."

Jason gave a tired chuckle. "You think your legs hurt? Try running suicides back-to-back because the ’team captain’ decided to lose his cool with Coach. That was fun."

Dylan groaned, slumping forward with his head on the table. "I think my soul left my body halfway through practice. If we show up late again, he might actually kill us."

I smirked to myself, hiding the grin behind my hand as I scrubbed at an invisible spot on the counter. Oh, so they got to practice late, huh? My shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. Good for them.

This was just the kind of poetic justice I needed to brighten my day. If they hadn’t insisted on rushing to the police station earlier, playing the roles of my self-appointed knights in shining armor, they would’ve been on time. But no—they just had to insert themselves into my business, uninvited as always.

Serves them right.

I glanced at them out of the corner of my eye. Max was still whining about the drills, Jason looked like he was trying to massage the tension out of his neck, and Dylan seemed ready to collapse into his coffee mug. They looked utterly miserable.

The grin threatening to split my face grew wider. How much would it cost to bribe their coach to keep this up? I thought, my imagination running wild. Maybe a well-timed anonymous donation to the team’s budget could ensure their practices stayed this brutal. Nothing too excessive—just enough to make sure they regretted sticking their noses where they didn’t belong.

The thought of them gasping for air on the court, drenched in sweat and cursing their decisions, was far too satisfying. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud. Oooh, well a girl can only dream.

As I turned back to grab another tray, I caught Jason glancing at me again, his eyes lingering like he was trying to figure me out. I quickly averted my gaze, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing I’d noticed.

They might be tired and beaten down now, but knowing those three, they’d bounce back in no time—ready to pester me all over again. But for now? Watching them suffer just a little felt like karma working its magic. 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

I busied myself with setting up for the incoming dinner rush, humming under my breath. Life wasn’t perfect, but sometimes, the little victories were more than enough to get me through the day. It wasn’t a bad day after all.