Invisible To Her Bully Chapter 20

Jessa

I wake up Saturday morning feeling like someone filled my chest with lead weights.

Even with my eyes closed, I know the sun is streaming through my bedroom window, but all I want to do is pull the blanket over my head and disappear.

Last night keeps replaying in my mind like a cruel movie on repeat.

Daniel’s laugh.

Jackson’s careless shrug.

Noah’s silence.

It all swirls together until I can’t tell which part hurts the most.

Probably because it all hurts.

I roll over and grab my phone from the nightstand, dreading the possibility of seeing photos from the party already posted online. My social media feeds are like landmines, and I never know when I’ll scroll right into one that blows up in my face.

Sure enough, the first thing I see is a group photo of Jackson, Daniel, Noah, and a few cheerleaders. They’re grinning, arms slung around each other like life is perfect. The caption reads: Another epic night!

Noah’s right in the middle, that stupid smirk on his face like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Like he didn’t just let his friends tear me down less than twenty-four hours ago.

I toss my phone onto the bed, my throat tightening.

God, why do I let this hurt me so much?

Why do I care?

Because no matter how many times I tell myself Noah’s opinion shouldn’t matter, it does.

He matters.

And that’s the problem.

A text notification buzzes, and I grab my phone again.

It’s from Mariah.

Mariah: Rise and shine! Self-care day, baby! Be ready in 30. ??‍♀️

Self-care day?

I groan, burying my face in the pillow.

Me: I don’t feel like going anywhere.

Almost immediately, she replies:

Mariah: Too bad. You need this, Jess. Don’t make me come drag you out of bed.

I almost laugh at the image of her literally yanking me from under my covers. Almost.

Instead, I type:

Me: I can’t afford a spa day.

Her reply comes lightning fast:

Mariah: It’s free. Trust me. My cousin just graduated beauty school. She needs practice models.

Free?

My stomach twists.

Getting my hair done sounds… nice. Like something other girls do—girls who belong. But me? I’ve always been the one with hair shoved into a messy bun, hiding behind oversized hoodies and layers of clothes, trying not to be noticed.

“Maybe next time,” I type out, but I don’t hit send. Because deep down, a part of me wants to go. Wants to feel… pretty. Even if just for a day.

Another text buzzes through before I can make up my mind:

Mariah: Don’t even think about backing out. I’m five minutes away. Be ready.

I sigh, dragging myself out of bed.

Mariah doesn’t take no for an answer.

By the time she pulls up, I’ve thrown on my comfiest jeans and a hoodie, my hair in its usual messy bun.

She eyes me as I climb into her car.

“Girl,” she says, shaking her head. “We are going to fix that sad bun situation today.”

“Gee, thanks,” I mutter, tugging at my sleeves. “I told you, I don’t have money for—”

“And I told you,” she cuts in, “my cousin just graduated beauty school. She’s dying to try out some new techniques. She won’t charge you a dime.”

I glance at her skeptically. “Why me?”

Mariah grins. “Because you’re my best friend, and I want to spoil you. Also, you’ve been in a funk all week, and if I let you sit at home and mope, you’ll spiral. We’re doing this.”

Her confidence is unwavering, like she can single-handedly drag me out of my misery if she just tries hard enough. I wish I had even half her energy.

The salon is small but bright, filled with the scent of shampoo and the hum of blow dryers. Mariah’s cousin, Cassie, greets us with a wide smile. She’s got trendy short hair dyed a vibrant pink and the kind of self-assured vibe I can only dream of having.

“You must be Jessa!” she says, taking my hands. “Mariah’s told me so much about you. I’m so excited to work on your hair today.”

“Oh,” I stammer, glancing at Mariah. “Um, thanks?”

Cassie gives me a once-over, not in a judgmental way, but like she’s seeing potential I can’t.

“We’re going to have fun. Don’t worry, nothing too crazy—unless you want crazy.”

I shake my head so fast my messy bun wobbles. “No crazy.”

Cassie laughs. “Okay, no crazy. Just a fresh look to bring out those gorgeous features.”

Gorgeous.

No one’s ever used that word about me before.

It feels… foreign. Like she’s talking to someone else entirely.

As Cassie washes my hair, I try to relax, but my mind keeps drifting back to yesterday.

To Daniel’s words.

To Jackson laughing.

To Noah standing there, saying nothing.

The pain hits fresh and sharp.

“Earth to Jessa.” Mariah’s voice snaps me back to the present. She’s leaning against the counter, watching me with concern. “You’ve been quiet since we got here.”

“I’m fine,” I lie, staring at the ceiling.

Mariah arches a brow. “Liar.”

I exhale shakily. “I just… overheard something yesterday.”

“What kind of something?”

I hesitate, then whisper, “Daniel was talking about how he hoped I wouldn’t show up to the party. Called me a buzzkill.”

Mariah’s face darkens. “Ugh, what a jerk.”

“That’s not even the worst part.” My voice cracks. “Jackson just laughed it off. And Noah… he didn’t even defend me. 

He just stood there.”

Mariah curses under her breath. “Men are trash.”

A sad laugh escapes me. “Maybe they’re right, though. Maybe I am a buzzkill. Maybe I shouldn’t even—”

“Stop.” Mariah’s tone is sharp, cutting through my self-pity like a knife. “You don’t get to talk about yourself like that.”

Tears sting my eyes. “But it’s true! I’m never going to be like Jackson. Or those girls at school. I’ll always be… this. The awkward twin. The background character.”

Mariah kneels beside me, gripping my hands. “Jess, listen to me. You are not a background character. You are strong, and beautiful, and more than enough. You just can’t see it because you’ve been listening to idiots like Daniel and Jackson for too long.”

I sniff, a tiny ember of hope sparking in my chest.

“Beautiful?” I echo, disbelieving.

Mariah smiles softly. “Absolutely.”

Cassie finishes trimming my hair and spins my chair toward the mirror.

I gasp.

The girl staring back at me looks… different.

Not just because my hair has soft layers now, framing my face perfectly, but because there’s something in my eyes I haven’t seen in a long time.

Confidence.

Or at least, the beginnings of it.

Mariah squeals and claps her hands. “Oh my God, Jess, you look amazing!”

I can feel my cheeks heating, but for once, it’s not from shame. “You think so?”

“I know so.” She grins. “Tonight, we’re taking this new look out into the world. You’re coming with me.”

My stomach plummets. “To… the party?”

Mariah nods. “Yes. And before you say no, remember this—you don’t need their approval. Not Daniel’s. Not Jackson’s. Not even Noah’s. You’re going for you, not them.”

I swallow hard, staring at my reflection.

Part of me still wants to run, to hide in oversized clothes and pretend none of this matters.

But another part—the part that just caught a glimpse of her own worth—wants to try.