Invisible To Her Bully Chapter 10

Noah

I swear, Jessa Lombardi has a permanent target painted on her back.

Not that she knows it—but I can’t stop aiming for it. It’s too easy. She’s too easy. The way her cheeks flush when I throw out a jab, the way her eyes spark like she’s caught between wanting to deck me and wanting to disappear.

Most girls roll their eyes or toss something back. Jessa… she feels everything. And I can’t help it—I like watching her squirm.

Even if sometimes, afterward, I wonder why I push her so hard.

Maybe it’s because I notice her more than I should.

She’s not like the girls who hang around after practice, batting their lashes and hoping for attention. Jessa doesn’t try. 

She hides in hoodies and keeps her head down, like she doesn’t realize she’s got this fire in her that makes it impossible not to look.

But instead of saying that, I run my mouth. I joke. I poke. And when she stares back at me with that wounded glare, it hits deeper than I ever admit.

Like yesterday, when she actually snapped back.

At least my thighs don’t give out by halftime.

I still hear it. I still see the way she stood a little taller, even with her face red. And damn if it didn’t throw me for a loop.

Because Jessa Lombardi has never fought back before.

I’m lacing up when Jackson drops onto the bench beside me, all swagger and sweat. “Yo, Carter,” he says, slapping my shoulder. “Party this weekend. You in?”

“Depends,” I say, smirking. “Who’s hosting?”

“Daniel. His parents are out of town.” Jackson grins like he’s already picturing the chaos. “You know it’s gonna be insane. Drinks, music, the whole deal.”

I nod, already knowing I’ll go. Parties are what we do. It’s expected. But then Jackson adds, “Jessa’s coming too.”

That makes me pause.

I mask it fast, leaning back against the locker like it doesn’t matter. “Your sister? At a party?” I let out a sharp laugh. “Since when?”

Jackson shrugs, casual. “Mariah convinced her. Said it’s time she stops hiding at home. Honestly? She needs it. Girl takes everything too seriously.”

He chuckles, like it’s nothing. “You should see her sometimes—gets all worked up over the dumbest stuff. It’s hilarious.”

I laugh too, because that’s what I’m supposed to do. Keep it light. Make it a joke. But inside, the thought of Jessa at Daniel’s place unsettles me.

I picture her walking in, probably tugging at her hoodie sleeves like she wants to disappear, while the music pounds and people crush into the living room. She doesn’t belong there—not with the girls who thrive on attention, who know exactly how to turn a head with a smile.

And yet… part of me wants to see her there.

To see what she looks like when she isn’t ducking her head or muttering under her breath.

I shake the thought fast, shoving it down. “Well, this should be fun,” I say, flashing Jackson a grin. “Bet she’ll last, what? Ten minutes before she bolts?”

Jackson snorts. “You’re not wrong. Jessa’s allergic to fun. She’ll probably stand in the corner with Mariah and sip Sprite while everyone else is living.”

I chuckle like I agree, like I don’t care either way. But something about it nags at me.

Because I know Jessa. She might pretend she doesn’t care about any of this, but I’ve seen the way her eyes flick to the sidelines, like she wants to be part of things but doesn’t know how.

I press my tongue to my cheek and lace my cleats tighter, acting like the whole thing’s a joke. “Guess I’ll have to make sure she survives the wild night,” I say. “Wouldn’t want the great Jessa Lombardi traumatized by Daniel’s beer pong table.”

Jackson laughs, shaking his head. “Yeah, right. You’ll probably be the one making her run home.”

He doesn’t know how close to the truth that is.

Because I can already feel the itch in me, the one that won’t shut up when Jessa’s around. The one that makes me push her buttons just to see her crack.

And at a party, with the whole school around? That itch is going to be impossible to ignore.

Still, I laugh it off. “What can I say? Somebody’s gotta keep things entertaining.”

Jackson doesn’t think twice about it, moving on to talk about who else is coming. But me?

I can’t shake the image of Jessa at Daniel’s party—out of her element, hiding in the corner, and me standing there, deciding whether to leave her alone… or make her burn red again.

And if I know myself at all, I already know what I’ll do.