Invisible To Her Bully (Jessa and Noah) novel Chapter 171

Chapter 171

Jessa

By Monday, it felt like the whole school had watched that kiss in slow motion.

They probably had.

I’d had an amazing weekend — which, honestly, still felt weird to think about. Saturday, Noah and I hung out on his back porch, sharing junk food and listening to music while his little sister made fun of us for “being disgusting and in love.” Sunday, we spent way too long on the phone, talking about nothing and everything until my battery died mid–sentence.

For once, I didn’t dread Monday.

That lasted… about fifteen minutes.

Because apparently, Ridgeville High loved nothing more than a new storyline. And this week’s trending topic was:

Noah Carter is dating Jessa Lombardi.

I heard it the second I walked through the doors.

“No way, did you see them on the field?”

“Yeah, he kissed her. Like full–on movie scene.”

“Maybe he lost a bet.”

“Or maybe he has a type?”

“What type? She’s not even-

>>

whisper, whisper, giggle.

By lunchtime, the whispers had gotten sharper.

“Honestly, what does he even see in her?”

“She’s not ugly, but like… she’s not Noah level.”

Chapter 171

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“She doesn’t care about how she looks. I’ve never even seen her in lipstick.”

“He could pull any girl he wanted and he chose her?”

Every word felt like a tiny paper cut; not enough to bleed out, just enough to sting.

I tried to ignore it. Really, I did.

—

Mariah and I grabbed our trays and headed for our usual table. Noah and Jackson were already there with a couple of other guys from the team Shane and Chris and one of the cheer girls, Tori, who’d decided our table was more interesting than hers lately.

Noah’s face lit up when he saw me. He slid over so I could sit beside him, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Hey,” he said, voice soft enough that it covered all the stupid noise behind me.

“Hey,” I answered, forcing a smile that wasn’t completely forced.

My heart did that flutter thing again, which annoyed me because… wow, traitor.

Mariah sat across from me and kicked me under the table, mouthing, he’s so gone for you like I didn’t already know.

I picked at my fries, trying to tune out the low murmur of voices from nearby tables.

It didn’t work.

“…I still don’t get it.”

“Noah is fine. Like, seriously, top–tier hot.”

“Right? And she’s just… average. Kinda chunky.”

“I mean, good for her? But also, how?”

I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth and stared at my tray, willing the comments to bounce off me.

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They didn’t.

They never really did.

Sometimes I still heard Daniel in my head, nasty and smug.

Noah will never want a fatty.

Guys like us don’t go for girls like you.

I shoved that voice down, hard.

Mariah must’ve caught something in my face, because she tilted her head. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” I lied.

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re doing the thing.”

“What thing?”

“The ‘I’m fine while my soul is quietly combusting‘ thing.”

I tried to laugh but it came out flat. “I just… I wish people would shut up.”

Across the table, Shane was in the middle of telling Jackson some story about a blown play at practice, but even he glanced over at that.

“People say anything to fill space,” he muttered. “Noise for the sake of noise.”

Tori flipped her hair and rolled her eyes dramatically. “God, they’re so annoying. Like, imagine caring this much about who someone else kisses.”

“High school,” Mariah said. “Where we invent new ways to be weird about other people’s lives.”

Noah bumped his knee gently against mine under the table. “Hey,” he said quietly. “Talk to me.”

I sighed, stared at my fries for another second, then blurted the most random thing instead of what I was actually feeling.

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“Makeup is stupid.”

Everyone at the table went quiet.

Noah blinked. “Uh… what?”

I waved my fry in vague frustration. “Makeup. It’s stupid. Confusing. Annoying. All

of it.”

Mariah sat up, interested. “I’m listening.”

“I mean,” I continued, words tumbling out now, “every time someone says I don’t even try,‘ it’s like, you have no idea how much I’ve tried.”

I rubbed my forehead, feeling heat creep up my neck.

“Like, every video online is some girl with perfect skin, going, ‘Oh my god, this is SO easy, guys,‘ and then proceeds to do fourteen invisible steps in three seconds. ‘ Just do your moisturizer, primer, color corrector, concealer, foundation, brightening concealer, cream contour, setting powder, bronzer, blush, highlight, spray-“”

Shane choked on his soda. “That’s… a lot.”

“Right?” I said, pointing my fry at him for emphasis. “And that’s just the base. That’s before they even start drawing geometry on their eyelids.”

Mariah snorted. “Not geometry.”

“IT IS,” I insisted, warming up now. “They’re like, ‘Just do a soft cut crease, smoked–out outer corner, and a subtle wing,‘ and I’m over here stabbing myself in the eye with a pencil because no one explained how to do a wing for someone whose eyelids aren’t tiny billboards.”

Tori laughed, nodding a little too hard. “Honestly? She’s not wrong.‘

“And don’t even get me started on products,” I went on, because apparently this was happening now. “Moisturizer. Serum. Primer. Do I need a pore–filling one or a hydrating one? Do I color correct my whole face or do I just accept my dark circles as part of my personality? What’s the difference between contour and bronzer?

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Why does one make me look sculpted and the other makes me look like I rolled in dirt?”

Mariah wiped tears from her eyes. “I love you so much.”

“I try,” I said, quieter now. “I really do. When you do my makeup, I look good. You make me feel pretty. But when I try to do it myself, I just look like a raccoon who got into a paint store.”

That got a full laugh from the table.

Then Chris, one of the linebackers, shook his head slowly.

1. 1. in.