Invisible To Her Bully (Jessa and Noah) novel Chapter 35

Noah

Schneider’s Field was alive with noise and heat.

The bonfire roared in the center of the clearing, sparks shooting into the night sky like fireflies on steroids. Music blasted from somebody’s truck, and clusters of people were spread out everywhere — sitting on coolers, leaning against cars, tossing footballs around in the dark.

It was a scene straight out of every small-town Friday night… except it was only Monday, and half the school had shown up anyway.

I stood with Jackson and a few of the guys near the edge of the firelight, a soda in hand, pretending to be into their trash talk about Friday’s game. Jackson was hyped, his voice loud and confident, while Daniel was practically strutting as he retold some stupid play like he was God’s gift to football.

I wasn’t really listening.

I was scanning the crowd.

Which was pathetic — and dangerous — because I knew exactly who I was looking for.

Jessa.

I told myself I just wanted to make sure she was okay after lunch. That was it. Totally reasonable. Totally not because she’d been taking up way too much space in my head since last night.

And definitely not because part of me couldn’t stop replaying the moment we’d been alone together behind her house, so close I could smell the faint, sweet scent of her shampoo.

I shoved that memory down hard.

It didn’t belong here. Not with my teammates around. Not with Jackson right beside me.

I was mid-eye roll at something Daniel said when Mariah’s beat-up Jeep came bouncing down the dirt road, headlights cutting through the darkness. My chest went tight, stupidly tight, and I had to force myself not to stare like some lovesick idiot.

Then the passenger door opened, and she stepped out.

Jessa.

The field went quieter in my head, like someone had hit a mute button.

Her hair caught the firelight, those soft curls framing her face like they’d been painted there. The outfit she’d chosen was simple — fitted jeans, a black top that skimmed her curves — but somehow it worked better than anything I’d ever seen her wear before.

She didn’t look like the Jessa I teased in the hallways or saw sitting silently at lunch.

She looked… different. Confident, even, though I could see the slight hesitation in her shoulders as she scanned the crowd.

Jackson spotted her almost immediately.

His posture stiffened, his protective big-brother mode kicking in even though she was technically only three minutes younger than him.

“Seriously?” he muttered under his breath. “She didn’t tell me she was coming.”

I swallowed a laugh. “Maybe she wanted to surprise you.”

“Or maybe Mariah dragged her here.” His eyes narrowed when he noticed the way a few guys on the team were already looking Jessa’s way. “Great. Just great.”

Daniel followed Jackson’s gaze, his mouth twisting into a smirk. “Don’t tell me she’s crashing this too. What’s next, she gonna try out for cheerleading?”

I clenched my jaw so hard my teeth hurt.

Every instinct screamed at me to tell him to shut his damn mouth, but I forced myself to stay cool.

Last time I’d gone off on him, half the school had seen it. I couldn’t afford to make a scene again — not here, not now.

“Relax,” I said casually, even though my hands were fists in my pockets. “It’s a public field. Anyone can come.”

Daniel gave me a sidelong look, clearly surprised I wasn’t laughing along.

“Yeah, but this is supposed to be a team thing, man. She’s just… a vibe killer.”

Jackson turned on him instantly. “Watch it.”

The tension between them was thick enough to choke on. For a second, I thought Jackson might actually deck him right there.

“Whatever,” Daniel muttered, backing off slightly but not before throwing a look at me. “Guess we’ll see how long she lasts before she bolts.”

I exhaled slowly, my jaw tight.

People always said I liked to show off, and maybe they weren’t wrong — I liked the attention, the easy confidence, the way everyone seemed to look at me on and off the field.

But Daniel?

Daniel didn’t just show off.

He crushed people with it, using his words like weapons, cutting deep and leaving scars.

And tonight, it was clear he had Jessa in his sights.

I didn’t move. I couldn’t.

Jessa and Mariah were walking closer now, weaving through the crowd. Mariah was doing most of the talking, her hands flying like she was telling some dramatic story, while Jessa stayed quieter, scanning the field like she was preparing for battle.

And maybe she was.

My chest tightened as I caught the faintest glimpse of nerves on her face before she smoothed them over with this determined little lift of her chin.

God, she was brave.

More than anyone here gave her credit for — including me.

But the damage was done.

My mood was officially wrecked, and the only thing keeping me from blowing up was the fact that Jessa was here — watching.

As the night went on, the crowd shifted, people drifting between conversations, music, and the fire. Eventually, I managed to slip away from Daniel and the others, needing a break from the noise.

That’s when I spotted her again — Jessa, standing alone near the far edge of the field, the bonfire’s glow painting her in gold.

For a moment, it was just the two of us, like the world had narrowed to this quiet pocket of space away from everyone else.

I walked toward her before I could think better of it.

“Hey,” I said, my voice rougher than I meant. “You okay?”

She turned, startled, her eyes flashing in the firelight. “I’m fine.”

“You sure? You’ve been… quiet tonight.”

“I don’t really feel like talking to you,” she said coolly, crossing her arms.

The words stung more than they should have.

I shoved my hands in my pockets, trying to play it off. “Look, I just… I’m glad you came. You look—”

“Don’t,” she snapped, cutting me off. “Don’t say something nice now just to turn around and laugh about me with your friends later.”

I froze, guilt crashing over me. Because damn it, she wasn’t wrong.

“Jessa, I—”

“You what?” she demanded, her voice breaking. “You gonna tell me I’m playing victim again?”

The words slammed into me like a hit I hadn’t seen coming. My chest tightened, my mind scrambling for a response, but nothing came fast enough.

So I said something stupid. Something cruel.

“Maybe if you stopped acting like one, people wouldn’t treat you like one.”

Her face went pale, then flushed bright red, hurt flashing so raw and sharp it made my stomach drop.

For a heartbeat, neither of us moved.

Then she stepped closer, her fists trembling at her sides.

And I knew — whatever came out of her mouth next was going to cut deep.