Invisible To Her Bully (Jessa and Noah) novel Chapter 11

Jessa

Mariah’s bedroom looks like the aftermath of a fashion tornado. Clothes are scattered across her bed, hangers hooked on the doorknob, shoes kicked into the corner. She’s sprawled on the carpet, painting her nails like the mess doesn’t exist. Meanwhile, I’m standing in front of her mirror, tugging at the hem of the black top she made me borrow.

“It’s too tight,” I mutter, turning sideways and frowning at the way it hugs my stomach.

“It’s not tight, it’s fitted,” Mariah says, blowing on her nails. “There’s a difference.”

I pull at the fabric anyway, wishing it would magically loosen. “It clings. I look ridiculous.”

“You look hot,” she says without even glancing up.

Hot. The word makes my cheeks burn. I don’t look hot. I look like me—Jessa Lombardi, the girl with the round face and the thighs Noah Carter couldn’t resist mocking. The girl who everyone looks past to get to my twin brother, Jackson.

I tug at the top again, then reach for the oversized hoodie I brought in my bag. “Forget it. I’ll just wear this over it.”

Mariah sits up so fast her nail polish tips over. “Don’t you dare. Jessa, you’re not hiding tonight.”

“I’m not hiding. I just… don’t want to look stupid.”

“You won’t.” She crosses the room, planting herself between me and my hoodie. “Listen, you’ve spent your whole life worrying about what people think. You keep yourself invisible, and it’s exhausting just watching you do it. Tonight is about having fun. You don’t owe anybody perfect. You just owe yourself a chance to feel good.”

Easy for her to say. Mariah has that effortless glow—like she was built to take up space in a room. People notice her. People like her.

Me? I’m the girl who disappears in the background.

I look back at the mirror, staring at my reflection. The black top really isn’t awful. It even makes my eyes stand out a little more, and my hair—curled at Mariah’s insistence—frames my face instead of hanging limp. For a second, I almost believe her.

Still… the thought sticks.

Mariah steps back and hands me a tube of lip gloss. “Now put this on, smile, and let yourself exist tonight. No hoodies. No hiding.”

I take the gloss with trembling fingers. The pit in my stomach doesn’t vanish, but there’s a tiny flicker of something else underneath it.

Hope.

Maybe tonight I can be someone other than the Jessa who hates mirrors.

Maybe tonight I can be seen.