Invisible To Her Bully (Jessa and Noah) novel Chapter 129

Chapter 129

Jackson

I was halfway through a burger when my phone buzzed on the coffee table.

Another notification. I almost ignored it–thought it was one of the group chats lighting up with memes again. But when I glanced down and saw the name, my stomach sank.

Shane:

Yo, you talk to Carter?

Saw some stuff in the parking lot after practice. Looked heated.

I frowned and typed back.

Me:

What kind of stuff?

The three dots blinked for a few seconds. Then:

Shane:

Didn’t catch all of it. Just him and Daniel going at it..

Looked bad, bro.

I set the burger down, suddenly not hungry anymore.

Great. Another mess. Another reason for Coach to lose his mind.

I leaned back on the couch, rubbing a hand over my face.

Part of me wanted to believe it was nothing. Maybe just words, not fists. But knowing those two… that was wishful thinking.

The house was quiet except for the hum of the refrigerator and the faint buzz of the TV I wasn’t watching. Mom was still at the hospital, working the late shift. Jessa was in her room, door shut, probably texting Mariah or scrolling TikTok

I stared at the text again. “Looked bad.”

I grabbed my keys.

By the time I pulled into the school lot, the stadium lights were already dark. The place looked empty, just a few

cars scattered under the lamplight. Noah’s truck was gone. So was Daniel’s.

1

I parked and sat there for a minute, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel.

1/4

I didn’t sleep much.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Daniel’s smug face under the streetlights, heard his words echoing through my head like a broken record.

You so hard up for pussy you had to scrape the bottom of the barrel?

–

It had taken everything in me not to hit him again. But the damage was already done in my head, in the team, in the way Jackson had looked at me last night.

—

When I pulled into the school lot that morning, it felt like the air was heavier than usual. People were everywhere the parking lot buzzing with early chatter – but all I could think about was how many of them might’ve already heard what happened. Ridgeville gossip spread faster than wildfire.

I climbed out of my truck, slung my backpack over my shoulder, and tried to shake it off. Practice. School. Routine. That’s what I needed.

“Shane texted me,” he said. “Said it looked like you were about to kill Daniel.”

“Great,” I muttered.

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