Invisible To Her Bully (Jessa and Noah) novel Chapter 156

**Hearts Written in Silent Rain by Ava Bloomfield**
**Chapter 156**

**Jackson**

As the clock struck Monday morning, Ridgeville High was alive with a frenetic energy, buzzing like a disturbed hornet’s nest.

Whispers had turned into full-blown conversations, voices rising in volume, filled with drama and half-truths that twisted the reality of the previous weekend’s events into something almost unrecognizable.

I couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming urge to snatch everyone’s phones away, to silence the chaos that was spiraling out of control.

I overheard a freshman animatedly telling her friend, “I heard Jessa drowned at the party, and they had to bring her back to life!”

What in the world?

What. The. Hell.

—

Another student chimed in, “No, no! I heard that she got hypothermia and had to be rushed to the hospital!”

And there was Jessa Lombardi—my twin sister—walking down the hallway as if she were a robot programmed to ignore the world around her.

Her face was a mask of stone.

Not a flicker of emotion crossed her features.

She didn’t spare a glance at anyone, didn’t utter a word, and didn’t even react when someone called her name a tad too loudly from behind. She simply continued on her path, her gaze fixed firmly on the floor, as if it were the only thing in this chaotic world she could trust.

Every time I witnessed her like this, it felt like something inside me shattered, a painful crack that echoed in my chest.

By the time third period rolled around, I had reached my limit.

Daniel was absent from school—likely hiding away, too embarrassed to show his face after half the party witnessed him being obliterated by the weight of public opinion—but his foolish words and reckless actions lingered in the air, poisoning the atmosphere.

I knew I had to take action.

With determination, I strode directly to Coach Ramirez’s office after the fourth period bell rang.

The door was ajar, and through the crack, I could see him seated behind his desk, munching on a banana as if it had personally offended him. He glanced up at my knock, his expression a mix of curiosity and irritation.

“Lombardi,” he said, chewing slowly, “You look… tense.”

“Can I talk to you?” I asked, my voice steady despite the storm brewing inside me.

He gestured with the banana toward the chair opposite him. “Sit.”

I obeyed, watching as he expertly tossed the peel into the trash can with surprising precision.

“Alright,” he sighed, “Hit me. Who died?”

“Dantel,” I replied, my heart racing.

Coach raised both eyebrows, a look of mock concern crossing his face. “Should I be calling 911 or…?”

“No,” I muttered, frustration seeping into my tone. “I mean Daniel is the problem.”

He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders.

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

I blinked in confusion. “Wait, what?”

He let out a dramatic sigh, one that seemed to have been building for decades. “Jackson, off the record… Daniel is what we in the professional coaching world refer to as a ‘special person.’ And not in a good way.”

I couldn’t help but snort, the absurdity of the situation momentarily lightening my mood.

Coach leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest as if preparing for a lecture.

“I’ve tried. I’ve talked to him. I’ve talked to his parents. I’ve even reached out to his last coach. I even had a conversation with his grandmother, and she told me, quote: ‘He’s been a pain in the ass since kindergarten.’”

I nearly choked on my own laughter.

Coach pointed a finger at me. “But… I’m guessing this visit isn’t actually about football.”

“No,” I said firmly. “It’s about my sister.”

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify