Jason POV:
Yeah, I let her go earlier, but the good news? I’d get to see her at the diner. With the nationals just a day away, Coach decided not to kill us with drills today. Instead, he kept it light—a warm-up, a few minutes of practice, and then he let us go, saying we needed to rest up for the big ga.
Yay . I finally had a chance to catch up with Ella.
After practice, I hit the showers as fast as possible, determined to make the most of this unexpected free ti. But, of course, Dylan and Max had to tag along. Great. So much for my plan to have so alone ti with her.
Still, we all piled into Max’s car and headed to the diner. Max, being Max, was the first to bound through the door. He was ready to yell out Ella’s na like always, but she wasn’t there.
Not behind the counter. Not weaving through the tables, taking orders like she usually did.
Instead, her boss was manning the counter, and another waitress—one I didn’t recognize—was running around trying to keep up with the orders.
We slid into our usual booth, and when the waitress ca over, Dylan didn’t waste any ti. "Where’s Ella?" he asked casually.
The waitress gave a shrug, clearly unimpressed. "She’s late. Now my shift’s extended to cover her lazy ass."
Max bristled imdiately, his jaw tightening. "Don’t call her lazy," he snapped, his tone sharp enough to make her blink.
She muttered sothing under her breath and walked off, but not before Dylan shot her a glare of his own.
I, on the other hand, didn’t say anything. I couldn’t.
Because sothing about that didn’t sit right with .
Ella wasn’t lazy. Sure, she could be grumpy, but she never blew off work. She’d told earlier she was going to grab a few hours of sleep before her shift. So, if she wasn’t here yet...
Sothing was off.
I excused myself, mumbling sothing about needing to make a call. Stepping outside, I scrolled to her number and hit dial, holding the phone to my ear as it rang.
And rang.
And rang.
No answer.
The knot in my stomach tightened. Was she okay? Did sothing happen?
I hit redial, the worry gnawing at .
This ti, the call went through on the second ring.
"Hello?" Her voice was hoarse, like she’d just woken up.
"Hey, Ella, we’re at the diner, and you’re a no-show... Did sothing happen? Are you okay?" I asked, my words spilling out too fast, laced with concern.
"I’m fine, Jason," she grumbled, her tone laced with irritation and exhaustion.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out she’d overslept. She sounded like she was still half-asleep, probably annoyed I’d woken her.
Before I could say anything else, the line went dead.
She hung up on .
Yep. Totally grumpy.
But at least she was okay. That was all I needed to know.
Still, as I walked back inside, I couldn’t shake the lingering worry. Ella never let herself slip like this. Not with school, not with work.
Sothing had to give soon.
And I wasn’t sure how long she could keep pushing herself before it all ca crashing down.
When I got back inside, Dylan and Max were already digging into their food, chatting away like they didn’t have a care in the world. I thought about ordering sothing too but decided to hold off. Sothing about sitting there, waiting, felt... right.
And that decision paid off.
A little while later, Ella ca charging through the door like a whirlwind. She was panting, her face flushed, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out she’d run all the way here.
The waitress from earlier saw her and rolled her eyes before disappearing, probably to change out of her uniform and clock out.
Ella barely had a chance to catch her breath before her boss, who was standing behind the counter, fixed her with a death glare.
"You’re awfully late," he barked, his voice already rising like he was gearing up for a full-on rant.
I didn’t even think. I called out, "Hey, can I get so service here?"
That stopped him in his tracks. His head snapped in my direction, and he squinted at for a second before nodding curtly.
He glanced around the diner, clearly not seeing the other waitress, and then turned his glare back to Ella. "You. Take care of him," he barked, before stomping off toward the kitchen.
Ella looked like she wanted to disappear into the floor.
Her shoulders slumped, and she ran a hand through her hair before reluctantly making her way over to . She didn’t even glance at Dylan or Max, who had gone quiet, probably sensing the tension.
When she reached my booth, she pulled out her notepad and pen, her voice clipped. "What can I get you?"
I bit back a smile. Even flustered and annoyed, she managed to look so damn adorable.
"Just one large burger with fries," I said, keeping my tone casual.
She raised an eyebrow at , her expression making it clear she wasn’t in the mood for any of my usual antics.
"That’s it?" she asked, her pen hovering over the pad.
"Yep. That’s it."
She sighed, scribbled it down, and walked off toward the counter.
I leaned back in my seat, watching her go. Ella was like a storm—chaotic, unpredictable, but impossible to ignore.
And as much as she pretended to be annoyed with , I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, she didn’t mind having around as much as she claid.
When Ella ca back with my order, she looked... different. The stormy frustration from earlier had lifted, replaced with a calmness that made her seem more approachable. She even smiled as she set the food down in front of , a real one—not the forced, polite kind she sotis gave when she was annoyed.
Max, always the loudest in the room, greeted her with his usual enthusiasm. "Hey, Ella!"
She actually smiled back at him, which was rare. anwhile, Dylan—ever the subtle one—barely glanced her way, though I caught him sneaking quick looks when he thought no one was watching.
As she placed the plate on the table, Ella shifted from one leg to the other, hesitating for a mont. Then she looked at .
"Thanks for what you did, um, earlier," she said, her voice soft but steady.
I blinked, montarily thrown off. Ella... thanking ? That didn’t happen often. I managed to play it cool, though, offering her a small smile. "No problem."
She gave a tiny nod, like she was satisfied with my response, but before I could say anything else, Max decided to steal the spotlight—because of course he did.
"Ella," Max began, drawing her full attention. "Would you co to our last match?"
His tone was casual, but I knew Max well enough to recognize when he was fishing for sothing.
Ella tilted her head, clearly surprised by the question.
Max wasn’t done, though. "Pleaseeee," he added, dragging the word out and throwing in his best attempt at puppy-dog eyes.
I nearly rolled my eyes, but then I realized I was silently chanting, Please say yes, in my head like an idiot.
Even Dylan perked up at the question, his gaze locking onto her now, waiting for her response.
Ella glanced around at all of us—Max’s hopeful grin, Dylan’s unusually tense expression, and , trying not to look too eager—and she let out a small laugh.
"I’ll think about it," she said, her smile teasing.
Max groaned dramatically. "That’s not a yes!"
Ella just smirked. "It’s not a no, either."
I couldn’t help but smile at that. Typical Ella—never giving too much away. But hey, a maybe was better than nothing.
"You’ll cheer for , right?" Max teased, flashing Ella his trademark grin.
I swear, sotis that guy had no filter.
Ella, caught off guard mid-turn, choked on a laugh and adjusted the tray she was holding. "We’ll see about that," she said, throwing him a quick, amused glance before walking back toward the counter.
I watched her retreating figure, trying to read between the lines of her casual response. Was that her way of saying yes? Or was she just humoring Max to get him off her back?
Max, ever the optimist, leaned back in his seat with a smug grin. "She didn’t say no. That’s a good sign, right?"
"Don’t get ahead of yourself," Dylan muttered, staring at his drink like it suddenly held all the answers to life.
I stayed quiet, biting my burger and watching Ella move behind the counter. She was back to her usual pace, engaging with her boss and the other waitress like nothing had happened. But I couldn’t shake the mory of her smile when she’d thanked earlier. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep wondering.
"Hey," Max nudged my arm, pulling out of my thoughts. "You think she’ll actually show up?"
I shrugged, playing it cool. "Who knows? Ella does what she wants."
But deep down, I was hoping—maybe even more than Max—that she’d be there. And if she did co, maybe, just maybe, I could try impressing her. What? Its still sothing.
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