Ella POV:
Okay, that was a close call.
Sure, I managed to escape my boss’s full-blown wrath for being late, but only because Jason swooped in just in ti to order sothing. One thing my boss obsesses over is custor satisfaction, and apparently, attending to Jason was more important than him chewing out.
But let’s not celebrate too soon. Just because I avoided a public lecture didn’t an I got off scot-free. No, my ever-so-gracious boss decided to add the hours I was late to the end of my shift. So, lucky —I’d be closing tonight. Yay.
As if I wasn’t exhausted already.
I adjusted my apron, making my way back to the counter, where the other waitress shot a smug look before heading out. I couldn’t bla her for leaving on ti, but the sight of her casually grabbing her bag while I prepared for an extended shift? That stung a little.
I tried not to let it get to as I approached Jason’s table with his order. This ti, I plastered on a smile, determined not to look like the frazzled ss I felt like inside.
"Thanks for what you did earlier," I said, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other as I set his food down.
Jason looked up at , his expression softening into a small, genuine smile. "No problem."
That was... nice. It caught off guard. Usually, Jason was more on the cocky, playful side, but this? This was different.
Before I could dwell on it, Max, being Max, called out to , stealing the mont.
"Ella, would you co to our last match?"
I turned to him, raising an eyebrow as he gave his most over-the-top puppy dog eyes. Really? The audacity.
Then, like a chorus of dorks, Jason and Dylan both looked at expectantly. Great. Now I was under the spotlight.
"Pleaseee," Max begged, dragging out the word dramatically.
I let out a small laugh, more out of disbelief than anything else. "We’ll see about that," I said, trying to keep my tone neutral as I turned to head back to the counter.
"You’ll cheer for , right?" Max called after , his voice teasing.
That caught off guard enough that I nearly stumbled. I cleared my throat and gripped the tray a little tighter. "We’ll see," I replied, tossing the words over my shoulder as casually as I could manage.
As I stepped away, I felt their gazes follow , lingering longer than I was comfortable with. Jason’s especially. It wasn’t that he said much—it was how he looked at . Like he was trying to figure out, piece by piece.
And maybe I should’ve been annoyed by it. But instead, I felt a small, stupid flutter of sothing in my chest that I wasn’t ready to deal with.
Focus, Ella. You’ve got a long shift ahead.
Was I going to go to that match?
I know, I know—that’s the billion-dollar question, and you all want to know. But guess what? I don’t know either.
Seriously, it’ll depend on so many things. The ti. The weather. My mood. How lazy I feel when the mont cos. There are just too many factors to consider. And honestly? It’s hard to commit to anything when your body feels like it’s been running on fus for weeks.
The logical part of —the one that still clings to so semblance of responsibility—was already making excuses. I an, I had a lot to do. There’s work, figuring out my post-graduation plans, and, let’s be honest, just catching up on sleep sounded like a much better way to spend my ti.
But then there was the other part of . The part that knew Jason, Max, and Dylan genuinely wanted to go. The way they looked at earlier—hopeful, expectant—like my presence would make so kind of difference.
Ugh, why did they have to do that? Why couldn’t they just let be a grumpy, overworked diner girl in peace?
I sighed, shaking my head at myself as I wiped down a table. I wasn’t committing to anything, not yet. We’d see how things played out when the ti ca.
But deep down, a tiny, traitorous voice whispered that maybe—just maybe—I already knew what my decision would be.
After they finished their food, they left a tip. And not just any tip—a big one. It was like they were trying to outdo each other, tossing bills onto the table like it was so silent competition. Honestly? Let them fight; it only makes richer.
As they got up to leave, they all said good night—even Dylan, who I was sure would sulk forever. They talked about how their big day was coming up, throwing in a few guilt-trip lines about how it was their last ga and how we’re all graduating soon. Typical defense tactics, but I wasn’t about to give them any promises.
Jason stayed behind while the other two goofballs walked out, still chatting and laughing about sothing I couldn’t hear. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there fidgeting like a kid caught stealing cookies.
I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to spit it out. He finally did.
"Could I... uh, take you ho after your shift?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck like it was the most awkward question in the world.
I tilted my head, trying not to smile. "Jason, I’ll be late. You need your rest for your big ga."
His face fell for half a second before he recovered, quickly masking it with a nonchalant shrug. "Alright, fair enough," he said, flashing a lopsided smile. "I’ll, uh, text you later then."
And just like that, he turned and walked out, leaving standing there.
It wasn’t a bad offer, really. But the last thing I wanted was to make him wait around while I slogged through the rest of my shift. Besides, he had his big ga tomorrow. He needed his sleep more than I needed a ride.
Still, the thought lingered as I went back to clearing tables.
Wait. Hold up. Was I... contemplating letting Jason take ho? Because my reply wasn’t a definite "no." Oh, mama, what have I turned into?
Jeez, this is really not . This isn’t the Ella I know—the one with strict boundaries and a no-nonsense attitude. And we can’t even bla it on cramps or finals, can we? Nope. This is definitely on .
But... maybe I can chalk it up to being nice since he swooped in and saved from my boss’s awful tirade? That’s reasonable, right? A simple act of gratitude?
Ugh. Who am I kidding? The way I hesitated, the way my voice didn’t imdiately shut him down—it’s like I’m morphing into soone I barely recognize.
I sighed, rubbing my temple as I wiped down the table. Okay, so maybe Jason isn’t the worst. Maybe he’s thoughtful. And maybe, just maybe, I didn’t hate the idea of him walking ho.
But that doesn’t an I’m ready to admit it. Definitely not.
Good Lord, I need divine intervention.
Like, a full-on burning bush mont or maybe an angel descending with a glowing "STOP THIS NONSENSE" sign. Sothing. Anything. Because clearly, I’m losing my grip on reality.
How else do you explain ——even thinking about letting Jason walk ho? The sa Jason who makes my stomach do those stupid flips I pretend don’t happen. The sa Jason who sohow gets under my skin in the most infuriatingly charming way.
I dropped into a chair, letting out a long, frustrated groan. This is not who I am. I don’t second-guess myself. I don’t let people—especially guys like Jason—worm their way into my carefully constructed walls.
But here I am, overanalyzing a simple offer to walk ho like it’s so life-altering decision.
Get it together, Ella. Focus. Finals are done, the diner shift is almost over, and all I need to do is get through the next few hours. Then I can go ho, crawl into bed, and pretend this entire day—and Jason—don’t exist.
Easy, right? Right?
God, help .
So, yeah, I closed up when my shift was finally over. The lights were dimd, chairs stacked, and the lingering scent of fried food was sothing I wouldn’t miss. As I locked the doors, my eyes couldn’t help but dart around, scanning the street. For what, you ask? Oh, just a certain soone.
See? I told you. I need help.
A big, dramatic sigh escaped when I didn’t spot him. Great. Now I’m disappointed he’s not here? What is wrong with ? Shaking my head at myself, I plugged in my earbuds and cranked up the music—so angsty ballad about resisting temptation. Fitting, right?
I started my trek ho, the cool night air brushing against my skin. My feet ached, my back scread, and all I could think about was how good my bed would feel. Then, just as I was starting to zone out, my phone buzzed in my pocket.
Curiosity won over exhaustion, and I fished it out. A ssage from Jason.
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