Invisible To Her Bully Chapter 41

Jessa

By the time Jackson finally walked through the door, I was halfway through loading the dishwasher, my hair piled in a messy bun on top of my head. It had been one of those evenings where the silence felt too loud, so I’d thrown myself into random chores just to keep busy.

The house was quiet except for the low hum of the fridge and the occasional clink of dishes. Mom was still at work, probably wouldn’t be home until after midnight, so it was just me, Jackson, and the steady ache of my thoughts.

Thoughts that, no matter how hard I tried to shove away, kept circling back to Noah Carter.

I hated it. I hated that I was still thinking about him — about the way he’d completely iced me out at school today like I didn’t exist.

After everything that had happened last night at the bonfire, the way he’d been so close to me, the way his hand had brushed mine and his voice had dipped low like… like he might actually care —

And then today?

Nothing.

Not a glance, not a word, not even the tiniest flicker of acknowledgment.

It shouldn’t have mattered. It shouldn’t.

But it did.

The sound of the front door shutting pulled me out of my spiraling thoughts. Jackson kicked off his sneakers in the entryway, his duffel bag slung over one shoulder. His hair was damp, like he’d just showered after practice, and his expression was unreadable.

“Hey,” he said, his voice casual, but there was a tightness to it that made me glance up.

“Hey,” I echoed, returning to stacking the last plate in the dishwasher. “How was practice?”

Jackson let out a humorless laugh. “Rough. Coach was on Noah like crazy today. Said he needs to get his head in the game or Friday night’s gonna be a disaster.”

My hands froze mid-movement, my heart stuttering for just a second. Noah.

I kept my back to Jackson, hoping he couldn’t see the flush creeping up my neck.

“Why?” I asked carefully. “Did he mess up a play or something?”

Jackson dropped his duffel bag onto the floor with a heavy thud. “More than one. He was just… off, you know? It’s like his mind was somewhere else entirely.”

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “Maybe he’s just tired.”

Jackson came to stand beside me, leaning against the counter. He folded his arms, his eyes narrowing in that way he always did when he was trying to puzzle something out.

“Maybe,” he said slowly, “but it’s not just that. He’s been acting weird for days now. Quiet one minute, snapping the next. Today at school he barely talked to anyone, even me.”

I kept my gaze fixed on the soapy bubbles in the sink, willing my heartbeat to calm down.

“Maybe he’s stressed about the recruiter coming Friday night,” I offered, forcing my voice to sound neutral.

“Yeah, maybe,” Jackson muttered. Then he studied me a little too closely, and my stomach twisted.

“You haven’t noticed anything… I don’t know, different about him?”

I blinked, feigning confusion. “Different? Like what?”

Jackson shrugged, but it was a stiff, deliberate motion. “Just… different. You two used to argue all the time, but lately it’s like you don’t even talk. It’s weird, Jess.”

I gripped the edge of the counter so tightly my knuckles ached. If you only knew, Jackson.

“He’s your friend,” I said finally, my tone sharper than I intended. “If you think something’s up, maybe you should just ask him instead of grilling me about it.”

Jackson’s brows shot up. “Whoa, relax. I’m just saying…” His voice trailed off, and for a moment, the air between us was tense and heavy.

I took a deep breath and busied myself with wiping down the counter, trying to seem unaffected.

“You’re imagining things,” I muttered. “Noah and I don’t even talk. You know that.”

Jackson’s expression softened, but not entirely. “Yeah… maybe I am.”

He raked a hand through his hair and let out a frustrated sigh. “I just need everyone on their game Friday night. The recruiter’s coming, and this could be huge for me — for all of us. I can’t afford for Noah to be distracted.”

I turned my head just enough to meet his eyes. There was so much determination there, so much pressure he was carrying on his shoulders. For a second, my irritation melted into sympathy.

“You’ll be fine,” I said softly. “You’ve been working for this all season.”

His lips curved into a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Jess.”

I nodded, forcing a weak smile of my own before turning back to the sink.

Inside, though, I was unraveling.

Because if Noah’s head wasn’t in the game… if he’d been acting strange and distant…

Was it because of me?

The idea sent my stomach into a tailspin. It was both thrilling and terrifying.

But before I could dwell on it any further, Jackson grabbed a protein bar off the counter and started heading toward his room.

“You coming to the game Friday?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” I said automatically.

He gave me a nod, then disappeared down the hallway, leaving me alone with my thoughts — and the sinking realization that no matter how hard I tried, Noah Carter had a hold on me I couldn’t shake.