Invisible To Her Bully (Jessa and Noah) novel Chapter 21

Jessa

By the time Cassie finishes with my hair, the sun has dipped low in the sky, casting a warm orange glow through the salon windows.

I can’t stop staring at my reflection.

The girl looking back at me doesn’t seem like… me.

The soft layers frame my face, bringing out my hazel eyes. My hair looks shiny and smooth, cascading over my shoulders instead of being piled into the same messy bun I’ve worn for years.

My throat tightens.

For so long, I’ve been used to hiding behind my hair and clothes. Seeing myself like this feels… strange. Scary, even.

Mariah beams beside me. “Jess, you are literally glowing. Look at you!”

I bite my lip, nerves fluttering in my stomach. “It’s… a lot.”

“It’s perfect,” she insists. “Tonight, we celebrate the new you.”

“Celebrate?” I echo, panicked. “You mean like… going somewhere?”

“No, no,” she laughs. “Just a cozy night at my house. Face masks, junk food, chick flicks. No drama.”

Relief washes over me. That, I can handle.

When we get back to Mariah’s house, her mom greets us warmly and heads out for the night, leaving us free to take over the living room. We change into pajamas—mine are my safe, oversized ones—and settle on the couch surrounded by snacks and nail polish bottles.

Mariah opens a bag of sour gummy worms. “Okay, first order of business: how do you feel?”

I hesitate, fidgeting with the drawstring of my sweatpants. “Honestly? Weird.”

“Weird how?” she presses, offering me the bag.

I take one gummy and chew slowly, trying to find the words. “Like… I don’t recognize myself. Cassie did such an amazing job, but it’s like she turned me into someone else. Someone who’s… actually pretty.”

“You’ve always been pretty,” Mariah says firmly, “but now the rest of the world will see it, too.”

I want to believe her, but my insecurities scream louder. “I don’t know if I’m ready for people to notice me. It’s easier when I’m invisible.”

“Easier doesn’t mean better,” she counters. “You’ve spent years hiding, Jess. It’s time to take up space.”

I stare at her, overwhelmed by how easily she believes in me when I can’t believe in myself. “What if I just make a fool of myself again?”

“Then we laugh it off and move on.” She shrugs. “But I promise, you won’t. Not this time.”

Her confidence plants a small seed of hope in my chest, fragile but real.

We spend the rest of the night doing face masks and painting our nails. Mariah talks about random stuff—celebrity gossip, plans for summer vacation, the ridiculous TikTok trend she’s obsessed with—while I mostly listen, grateful for the distraction.

For a while, it feels like old times, like middle school sleepovers before everything got complicated.

Before Noah Carter became the center of my pain.

Before Jackson started laughing along with his friends instead of standing up for me.

When Mariah drifts off to sleep, I stay awake, staring at the ceiling. My thoughts swirl, refusing to quiet.

Tomorrow, there’s a party.

I wasn’t planning to go. I swore I’d never put myself in that position again after last weekend.

But now…

Now there’s this tiny voice inside me whispering, What if?

What if I went and didn’t hide?

What if—for just one night—I got to be someone different?

Someone worthy of being seen.

I roll onto my side, squeezing my eyes shut.

That fantasy feels dangerous, like a cliff I’m not ready to jump off.

But deep down, I want to jump.

I start to argue, then stop.

Because maybe, deep down, I do want to be noticed—just not for the wrong reasons.

“Okay,” I say slowly. “I’ll try it.”

When I slip it on, my breath catches.

The fabric hugs my curves without clinging, and for once, I don’t feel like I need to hide under layers. My reflection looks… almost like one of those girls who always seem to belong.

Mariah clasps her hands together. “Jess, you look incredible.”

A shy smile tugs at my lips. “Really?”

“Really,” she says. “And tonight, everyone else is going to see it, too.”

As we do our hair and makeup later that evening, my nerves kick into overdrive.

What if Daniel says something cruel again?

What if Jackson laughs?

What if Noah…?

I push the thought away before it can take root.

I don’t want to think about Noah Carter. Not tonight.

Still, my heart pounds as we head toward the party. I can’t stop fiddling with the hem of my dress, my mind replaying every horrible moment from last weekend.

Mariah squeezes my hand as we walk up to the house. “Deep breaths. You’ve got this.”

I nod, trying to believe her.

But as the music thumps through the walls and the front door swings open, all I can think is:

Please don’t let me regret this.