Invisible To Her Bully (Jessa and Noah) novel Chapter 148

Chapter 148

Jessa

The scent of freshly fried French fries lingered in the air inside Mariah’s car—warm, salty, and exactly the comfort I needed after the day I’d had. She barely pulled into the parking spot before sliding the paper bag toward me.

“Eat,” she urged, her voice gentle but firm. “You look like you just went ten rounds with a bulldozer.”

I gave a tired smile, peeling back the paper to grab a fry. “Honestly? I kind of did.”

Mariah shot me that sharp, knowing look—the one that silently demanded I spill everything.

“Daniel,” I finally muttered, the name tasting bitter on my tongue.

Her grip tightened around the steering wheel. “What did that asshole say now?”

I hesitated, then recounted the encounter—not every word, but enough to capture the tone, the insult, the way he’d sneered that big girls like me don’t get guys like Noah. Like it was some undeniable truth.

By the time I finished, Mariah was practically vibrating with anger. “That son of a—” She stopped herself, inhaling deeply. “Nope. I promised myself I wouldn’t get arrested for murder before Homecoming.”

I almost laughed, and it helped break the tension. “He’s not worth it.”

She turned toward me, her voice softer now. “No, but you are. And that’s what makes me so mad. Daniel’s the kind of guy who can’t stand to see others happy. He’s miserable, so he drags everyone else down with him.”

I gazed out the window, watching the sky bleed pink as the sun dipped below the horizon. “I know you’re right. I really do. But—”

She groaned, cutting me off. “But?”

“A small part of me believes him,” I confessed quietly. “And that’s what kills me. I hate that I still care what he thinks. That tiny voice inside that remembers every joke, every whisper, every look… it’s still there.”

Mariah didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she reached over and lowered the music, giving me the space to open up.

“It’s like,” I began slowly, “no matter how many times I tell myself I’m over it, there’s always this voice telling me I’m not enough. That one day Noah’s going to wake up and realize I was just some embarrassing mistake.”

Mariah exhaled sharply, fingers tapping rhythmically on the steering wheel. “Jess, that voice isn’t the truth. It’s conditioning. Years of idiots like Daniel trying to write your story for you. You’ve spent so long being told what you’re worth that you forgot you get to decide that part.”

I stared down at the fries in my lap, feeling the weight of her words. “It doesn’t feel that easy.”

“It’s not,” she admitted. “But it’s definitely not impossible.”

Her tone softened even further. “You faced him, didn’t you? You didn’t just take it.”

I nodded. “I told him he was pathetic.”

A slow smile spread across her face. “That’s my girl. I’m proud of you.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. “It didn’t feel brave. My hands were shaking the whole time.”

“Bravery doesn’t mean you’re not scared,” she said gently. “It means you showed up anyway. And you shut him down today, jerkface.”

I chuckled. “That’s not exactly what I said.”

“Close enough,” she grinned.

We sat there for a while, quietly munching on fries, the silence stretching comfortably between us. The radio played softly—a melancholy pop song about finding yourself after heartbreak. Somehow, it felt just right.

After a moment, I broke the quiet. “Do you ever get tired of always being the confident one?”

Mariah blinked, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“You always seem so sure of yourself. Like you don’t care what anyone thinks.”

She snorted. “Oh, please. I care. I just fake it better.”

I turned to her, genuinely surprised. “You? You seem fearless.”

“Fearless?” she raised an eyebrow. “Jess, I’m tall enough that half the dresses at that boutique looked like crop tops on me. The other half made me look like a sparkly string bean. Confidence isn’t something you wake up with—it’s something you build, brick by brick, every time you refuse to let the world make you small.”

Her words hit me deeply, like she’d been saving them just for me.

“Still,” I said softly, “you make it look so easy.”

Mariah reached over and squeezed my hand quickly. “You will too. You already are.”

A warmth spread through my chest—the kind that felt dangerously close to tears. I blinked quickly, pretending to focus on the parking lot instead of her.

“Thanks,” I whispered.

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