The Girl in the Hoodie is Mine

Chapter 118: Falling?

ELLA POV:

By the time I got home, exhaustion was weighing me down like a ton of bricks. My legs felt like jelly, my head like it was stuffed with cotton, and my heart... well, my heart was in a weird place I didn’t have the energy to unpack right now.

I tossed my bag on the floor, flopping onto my bed like a sack of potatoes. My phone was in my hand before I even realized it, my thumb mindlessly scrolling through apps.

Nothing.

Not that I was expecting a text from Jason or anything, but the silence felt louder than usual.

I let my phone drop onto my chest, staring blankly at the ceiling. For a while, I just laid there, letting my thoughts wander. They didn’t go anywhere productive, of course. Instead, they zeroed in on the one person I shouldn’t be thinking about.

Jason. ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom

How? How did we even get here? When did Jason Grimm—my personal pain in the ass—become someone I noticed? Someone whose absence I felt?

It was stupid. Ridiculous. Absolutely insane.

Groaning, I buried my face in my pillow, as if smothering myself would drown out the maddening train of thought. This was supposed to be a good day—a day to celebrate my freedom.

Freedom from cramps, freedom from stress, and most importantly, freedom from boy drama.

Yet here I was, lying in my bed, overthinking Jason. freewebnσvel.cѳm

I could practically hear him teasing me in my head. "Admit it, Ella, you like me."

Nope. Nope, nope, nope. Not happening.

He was not living rent-free in my brain. Not today, Satan.

Snatching my pillow, I hugged it tightly and turned on my side, squeezing my eyes shut. Sleep. That’s what I needed. A good night’s sleep to clear my mind and reset my brain.

But even as my body began to relax, a single thought slipped through the cracks:

Why the hell was I suddenly into Jason?

And, more importantly...

Why did I give a damn about him?

I glanced at my phone again. 7:40 PM.

Too early to sleep, but also too lazy to do anything productive. Twenty minutes until Jason showed up.

Wait, no. If he showed up. Because technically, I never agreed to this little "pick you up at eight" arrangement. He just decided, in true Jason fashion, to invite himself into my plans—or lack thereof.

I wasn’t going.

Absolutely not.

Not even if my stupid heart was doing its ridiculous little happy dance at the thought of seeing him.

Not even if my stomach felt like it had been invaded by a swarm of butterflies in a synchronized routine.

I mean, really. Butterflies? For Jason? The same guy who once made me so mad I nearly threw my iced coffee at him? That Jason?

Ridiculous.

I flopped back onto my bed, staring at the ceiling like it held the answers to life’s most annoying questions. How did I even get here? How did we even get here? One moment, I was rolling my eyes at every word that came out of his mouth, and now I was... well... not exactly not looking forward to seeing him.

God, I hated this.

What was wrong with me? Was it the post-cramp euphoria messing with my brain? Some kind of hormonal rebound that made Jason look... not awful?

Nope. I wasn’t doing this.

I sat up, tossing my phone onto the nightstand like it had personally betrayed me. If Jason thought he could just waltz in here at eight and whisk me away to... whatever he had planned, he had another thing coming.

I wasn’t going anywhere.

Not even if part of me kind of, sort of, maybe wanted to.

Nope.

Not. Going.

....

Of course.

The twenty minutes were up, and now there was a persistent knock on my door.

Knock, knock, knock.

Persistent. Like a dog with a bone.

Not just a polite knock either—oh no. It was that special, rhythmic, "I’m-not-leaving-until-you-open-this-door" kind of knock.

Jason.

I sighed, throwing my blanket off. I stood up reluctantly, running a hand through my hair and giving myself a quick once-over in the mirror. Not that I cared what he thought or anything, but... okay, fine, maybe I cared a little. Dragging myself to the door, my heart doing its usual stupid thump-thump at the thought of Jason on the other side. I had told myself I wasn’t going. That this was a no-go. But apparently, my feet had other plans, and here I was, standing at my door, hand hovering over the handle like I was trying to resist opening it.

I mean, what was the worst that could happen? He’d come in, charm me with that dumb smile of his, and then... what? We’d just end up eating together like we always did? Maybe throw in some more witty banter and sarcastic jabs?

Ugh. Why was I even thinking about this?

I stared at the door, willing him to just give up and go away. Fat chance. The guy was like a dog with a bone when he wanted something, and right now, that "something" seemed to be dragging me out for... whatever this was supposed to be.

The knocking continued, louder this time.

"Ella! I know you’re in there," came Jason’s muffled voice.

Ugh. Of course he knew. My stupid lights were on. I probably should’ve pretended to be asleep, but I was too late for that now.

Another knock.

"Ella, come on! Don’t make me wake up your neighbour . You know I will."

I groaned. neighbours Seriously? Like I needed them getting involved in this. I marched to the door, unlocking it with way more force than necessary, and swung it open.

"What?" I snapped, crossing my arms.

Jason. Standing on the other side, looking like he just walked out of an advertisement for whatever rich-people perfume he probably wore. His stupid smile made my stomach do a flip. I could feel the heat creeping up my neck, but I was determined not to let him see it.

He stood there, looking far too pleased with himself. He was dressed casually—jeans, a fitted black shirt, and that stupid leather jacket he always wore like it was his personal superhero cape.

"You’re late," he said, grinning.

"I didn’t even agree to this," I shot back, glaring at him.

He shrugged, completely unfazed. "You didn’t say no either. So, here I am. Ready when you are."

"I’m not going."

"Yeah, you are."

"No, I’m not."

"Ella, come on," he said, leaning casually against the doorframe like he had all the time in the world. "You’ve had a long week. You deserve a break. And, if it helps, there’s chocolate involved."

I raised an eyebrow. "Bribery now? Really?"

"Absolutely."

I sighed, leaning against the doorframe opposite him. "Jason, I’m tired. And, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly dressed to go anywhere."

He looked me up and down, his grin never wavering. "You look fine to me. And if you want to change, I can wait."

The audacity.

I stared at him, half-annoyed, half... something else I didn’t want to think about. "You’re impossible."

"And yet, here I am. Still standing. Still waiting. Still charming."

I rolled my eyes, but I could feel the corners of my mouth twitching despite myself. Damn him and his stupid persistence.

I knew I should say no. I should tell him to leave and not come back. But my feet didn’t seem to care about that plan, so before I could stop myself, I stepped aside.

"Fine," I muttered. "Give me ten minutes."

His grin widened. "Take your time."

I rolled my eyes as I closed the door behind him, but part of me couldn’t help but smile. Maybe I was fooling myself into thinking I didn’t care. Maybe I was pretending that I didn’t feel a little bit... happy that he was here.

But whatever.

I wasn’t admitting anything.

Not yet.

As I closed the door to my room going to get ready, I couldn’t help muttering under my breath, "What the hell am I even doing?"

...

In my room, I stood in front of my closet, staring at it like it held the answers to the universe. Spoiler: it didn’t.

"What the hell am I even doing?" I muttered for the millionth time tonight.

My closet was a mix of everything—cozy sweaters, oversized hoodies, a couple of dresses I rarely wore, and the occasional outfit that screamed, I bought this on impulse and immediately regretted it. Nothing in there felt right for... whatever this was supposed to be.

Was it a date? No. Absolutely not. Jason didn’t say date. He just said... okay, he didn’t say much. Just showed up, flashed that stupid grin, and somehow talked me into agreeing to this.

I ran my fingers along the hangers, pulling out a simple black top and holding it up to myself in the mirror. "Too casual?" I asked my reflection.

My reflection had no answers.

I sighed and threw the shirt onto my bed, grabbing a flowy blouse instead. Maybe something dressier? Then again, Jason was standing outside in jeans and a leather jacket. Was I seriously about to overdress for Jason?

"Why am I even overthinking this?" I groaned, tossing the blouse aside and collapsing onto my bed dramatically. My heart was racing, my palms were sweaty, and I had no idea why.

Was it because he showed up? Because he looked good? Because he didn’t take no for an answer?

Or was it because, deep down, some part of me wanted to go?

Nope. Not going there. Not today.

I shot up, grabbing my trusty go-to outfit: a fitted white tee and my favorite pair of jeans. Comfortable, casual, and safe.

"Perfect," I said aloud, convincing myself.

I slipped into the outfit, added my favorite sneakers, and gave my hair a quick brush. A touch of lip balm, and I was done. Simple, no effort. It was just Jason, after all.

Checking the clock, I realized my ten minutes were almost up. I grabbed my jacket, took one last look in the mirror, and whispered to myself, "You’ve got this."

Opening my door, I found Jason still leaning against the wall, scrolling through his phone. He looked up as I stepped out, his grin widening like he’d just won a prize.

"Ready?" he asked, pushing off the wall.

I rolled my eyes. "Let’s just get this over with."

But as we headed out, I couldn’t stop the tiny smile creeping onto my face. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe.