Capítulo 2: Cornered in the Diner
Ella POV:
His two best friends- Dylan and Max, who also played basketball and were the sons of other prominent figures, stood up in unison. Their tall frames loomed over the crowd, their expressions cold and unamused. The entire diner fell into an awkward silence, the laughter that had filled the air just moments ago dying out as everyone turned to watch the scene unfold.
I felt my chest tighten, the heavy gaze of the three boys now locked onto me. Jason wiped the remnants of his spilled drink off his shirt, his eyes narrowing as he stepped forward, his lips twisting into a smirk that made my stomach churn.
"You think this is funny?" Jason's voice was low, but it cut through the silence like a blade.
I swallowed hard, instinctively pulling my cap lower over my face. My instinct was to apologize, to explain it was an accident, but the words caught in my throat. I wasn't about to back down, not with the entire diner watching. Not with Jason staring at me like I'd just committed the ultimate sin.
His friends stood behind him, their arms crossed, waiting for my next move.
Eyeing the exit door and calculating my chances of escape, I quickly realized it was impossible. Jason and his friends had the whole place covered, and with the rest of the diner watching in stunned silence, there was no way I could make a clean getaway. My only option was to run into the ladies' room, lock the door, and wait them out. My shift was over in just ten minutes, but those minutes seemed to stretch out in front of me, feeling impossibly long—too long.
I glanced at the restroom door, then at Jason, whose eyes were burning into me with a mix of fury and amusement. His friends, Dylan and Max, were whispering something to each other, casting quick glances my way, and I knew I was on borrowed time.
Without thinking twice, I bolted.
I rushed toward the ladies' room, my heart pounding in my ears. The floor beneath my sneakers felt slick, but I didn't stop. I could hear their voices behind me—Jason's angry tone and Dylan's mocking laugh. I reached the restroom door, yanked it open, and slammed it shut behind me. My fingers fumbled with the lock, trembling as I twisted it into place.
I leaned against the door, gasping for breath, my pulse racing out of control. The cool tile of the restroom walls was a stark contrast to the heat building in my chest. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping they wouldn't follow, praying they'd give up and leave.
But that was too much to hope for.
I heard footsteps—slow, deliberate. Jason's voice, low and dark, filtered through the door. "You can't hide in there forever, waitress."
I swallowed hard, my throat dry. Ten minutes. Just ten minutes. If I could hold out that long, my shift would be over, and I could slip out the back entrance once the coast was clear.
"I'll just wait right here," Jason said, his voice casual, almost amused. "It's not like I have anywhere better to be."
Panic crept into my chest. Why couldn't he just leave? Wasn't humiliating me once enough?
The restroom was silent except for the rapid thudding of my heart. My mind raced with a million thoughts. I couldn't let them figure out who I was—not here, not like this. No one at school knew I worked at the diner, and no one at the diner knew I was the Hoody Girl. That anonymity was my only safety. If Jason or anyone connected the dots, my entire plan would crumble.
I tried to steady my breathing, counting the seconds. The diner outside buzzed faintly with the usual noise of customers, but out there, Jason was still waiting. And it wasn't just him. Dylan and Max had joined in, their voices carrying through the thin walls of the restroom.
"Come on, Jase, leave her alone. She's just a waitress," Dylan's voice was softer, but there was an edge to it, like he was enjoying the situation far too much.
"She's more than that now. She owes me," Jason replied coldly.
I bit my lip, trying not to make a sound. Every part of me wanted to scream, to tell them off, but that would only make things worse. I had to bide my time.
I checked the time on my phone. Five minutes left.
Come on, just five more minutes.
Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door, and I jumped.
"You coming out anytime soon? I mean, how long does it take to hide in a bathroom?" Jason's voice was laced with sarcasm, and the boys outside erupted into laughter.
My heart was racing again, pounding against my ribs. I couldn't stay in here forever, but the thought of facing them, especially Jason, was unbearable.
What the hell was I going to do?
Then, I heard something that made my blood run cold.
"Maybe we should just drag her out," Max suggested, his tone dark and threatening.
"No, let her come out on her own. It'll be more fun," Jason replied.
I bit down on my lip so hard I tasted blood. Fun? This was a game to them—a twisted, cruel game.
My hand hovered over my phone again, considering calling someone—anyone for help. But who could I call? My options were limited. My father's people might still be searching for me, and the last thing I wanted was to alert them. Besides, I didn't need another reason for him to drag me back into his suffocating world.
I glanced around the restroom, searching for another way out. There was a small window above the sink, but it was too high up and far too narrow for me to fit through. I was trapped.
A few more minutes passed, each one feeling like an eternity. My shift had to be over by now. I could hear the muffled sound of the clock striking the hour on the diner's wall outside. It was time.
I could slip out the back.
Summoning every bit of courage I had left, I unlocked the door and eased it open just a crack. I peered out, scanning the area for any sign of Jason or his friends. The dining area was still buzzing with the usual crowd, but they were nowhere in sight. Maybe they'd finally given up.
I took a deep breath and stepped out, keeping my head low and moving quickly toward the kitchen door that led to the alley out back.
Just a few more steps…
Then I heard Jason's voice again, this time closer than before.
"Leaving without saying goodbye?"
I froze.
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