The Girl in the Hoodie is Mine

Jason POV:

Call me an overbearing buffoon if you want—but damn it, I was mad. Mad and jealous.

I know, I know. I promised myself I’d be better, more composed, less... whatever this was. That’s why I stayed quiet, kept my mouth shut, and clenched my jaw like my life depended on it. But inside? I was a damn volcano, ready to blow. So much for the progress I thought I’d made last night.

Just when I thought I had a shot—when it felt like Ella and I were finally on the same wavelength, like we’d reached some unspoken mutual understanding—Dylan swooped in and upended everything. Stupid, smug Dylan. Of course he’d up his game. Of course.

And then there was this. The library thing.

Don’t get me wrong—I’m not saying my mind’s always in the gutter. But come on, the way Ella and Dylan were acting? All secretive and shifty, like they’d been caught doing something... Well, it wasn’t hard to imagine what half the campus does in the library. That place has practically turned into a make-out haven for anyone looking to ditch their roommates.

And Dylan? He just had to be his smug, infuriating self, casually dropping that comment about the librarian catching them. The insinuation was obvious, and it sent my brain into overdrive. Ella bailed on him, apparently, but my mind had already taken the horror express, spiraling into one awful vision after another—Dylan and Ella, laughing together, kissing... Damn it. Damn it.

I shouldn’t be thinking this way. I know that. I should stop overanalyzing, stop making up stories in my head that probably aren’t true. But I can’t. It’s like my brain’s stuck in a loop, feeding me one jealous nightmare after another.

And yeah, technically, Ella’s a free agent. She’s not mine—I have no claim, no reason to act like I do. But knowing that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

Hell, it makes it worse.

I didn’t concentrate at all during class. Not one bit. My notebook sat open, untouched, the pen in my hand doing absolutely nothing but tapping against the desk like a ticking time bomb. The lecturer’s voice droned on, but it might as well have been static. I wasn’t hearing a word of it.

All I could do was sit there, simmering, staring blankly at the guy while my mind went a hundred miles an hour. Every now and then, I felt Ella’s gaze flicker my way. I could feel it, like this soft pull that made me want to glance back at her.

But I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.

Because the second I did, I knew what would happen. I’d stop being the calm, rational Jason I was desperately trying to be and turn into some overprotective, jealous idiot who couldn’t keep his emotions in check. That wasn’t who I wanted to be. Not with her. Not again.

But damn it, it was hard. Knowing she’d been with Dylan, hearing him run his mouth and act all smug like he’d won some kind of prize—it was eating me alive. And the worst part? She wasn’t even mine to be jealous over.

Still, it didn’t stop the twisting knot in my chest, the one that tightened every time I thought about them together.

So yeah, I didn’t write a single thing. Didn’t process a word of the lecture. Just sat there, trying to keep my cool, failing miserably, and waiting for this damn class to end so I could finally breathe again.

When the lesson finally ended, I didn’t waste any time. I mumbled something half-hearted—"Catch you guys later" or whatever—to Dylan and Max, not even waiting to hear their response.

I didn’t glance at Ella. Couldn’t. If I so much as looked in her direction, I knew all the frustration, jealousy, and confusion would bubble over, and I’d end up saying or doing something I’d regret.

I needed space. I needed to get a grip on these stupid, spiraling feelings before they controlled me completely. I promised myself I’d be better—for her, even if she didn’t know it. Even if she never would.

So, I grabbed my bag and walked out, quick and deliberate, my focus solely on putting as much distance as possible between me and this mess. The fresh air outside couldn’t come soon enough.

Dylan’s POV

Okay, so confessing to Ella today wasn’t exactly part of my plan. Not even close.

But after seeing her this morning? The way she was acting? Something was definitely off. She’d been weird—like, really weird. And then Jason, of all people, had casually asked her how she’d slept.

Ella blushed.

Blushed.

That was a big, fat red flag if I’d ever seen one. Ella doesn’t blush. Not for anyone. So yeah, alarms were blaring in my head loud and clear. Jason was closing in, and I couldn’t just stand there, twiddling my thumbs, pretending I didn’t feel the same way about her. Not when I liked her too. Not when I’ve liked her for so damn long.

I liked her too, damn it, and she needed to know.

Which is why, after the first class, I went looking for her. It didn’t take long to find her in the library—her go-to hiding spot when she wanted to avoid people. Unfortunately for her, I’m not people.

Of course, the librarian was practically glued to us, rearranging books on a shelf nearby and tossing her trademark death glares at anyone who so much as sneezed. Talking to Ella wasn’t an option, so I had to get creative. Fast.

Luckily, I’d come prepared. Well, sort of. I’d brought along my favorite novel—not for actual reading, but as a backup plan. The book was basically a mentor for clueless guys like me, a cheat sheet on how to woo a girl without looking like a total idiot. I’d even circled a part in red ink where the hero confessed to the girl. Bold move? Maybe. Genius? Absolutely.

I sat down next to Ella, and when I caught her eye, I opened the book and pointed to the circled part. My heart was pounding as I watched her read the words, her expression shifting with every second. I wasn’t sure what she’d say—or do—but I figured I’d at least get a reaction, right?

Oh, I got a reaction, all right. Just not the one I expected.

Before Ella could even say anything, the librarian swooped in like some kind of avenging book godmother. She saw the circled words and immediately went full-on mama hen, scolding me like I’d vandalized the Mona Lisa.

And Ella? One second, she was sitting there, and the next—poof. She was gone. Vanished like a ghost. She bailed on me without so much as a backward glance.

I just sat there, stunned, taking the brunt of the librarian’s wrath while trying to figure out what the hell just happened.