Invisible To Her Bully (Jessa and Noah) novel Chapter 209

By the time Friday night rolled around, I was already wound too tight.

Not the good kind of locked–in, ready–to–play tight.

The bad kind.

The kind where your jaw aches from clenching it all day.

The locker room was loud–same as always. Music blasting, guys yelling, shoulder–checking each other, hyping themselves up. The smell of sweat, tape, and turf filled the air.

Normal.

Too normal.

Because everyone knew who we were playing tonight.

Westbrook.

And everyone knew who Westbrook had now.

Nobody said his name.

They didn’t have to.

I was sitting on the bench pulling my pads on when Noah sat down next to me. He didn’t say anything at first. Just stared at the floor and started taping his wrists.

“You good?” I asked.

He snorted softly. “You ever ask a question you already know the answer to?”

“Yeah,” I said. “All the time.”

He glanced at me. “Then yeah. I’m good.”

We both knew that was a lie.

Across the room, a couple of guys were pretending this was just another game. Laughing too loud. Talking about how Westbrook’s defense sucked.

No one mentioned Daniel.

Coach walked in and the room shut up instantly.

He stood there for a second, letting the silence stretch.

“This is a conference game,” he said. “It matters. You play smart, you play disciplined, and you don’t let

emotions make decisions for you.‘

“>

His eyes scanned the room.

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“You know who’s on that team. You know the history. And you are not going to turn this into a circus.”

Nobody spoke.

“I don’t care what happened off the field. I care what happens between the lines. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” the room answered.

Coach nodded once. “Let’s go to work.”

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The stadium was packed.

Not homecoming packed.

But drama packed.

Word travels fast in a town like this.

When we ran out onto the field, the crowd was loud in that restless, buzzing way–like they were waiting for something to happen.

I looked into the stands without even meaning to.

Found Mom.

Found Mariah.

And then-

Found Jessa.

She was sitting between them, wrapped in her hoodie, hands clasped together like she was nervous and excited at the same time.

When she saw me,

she smiled.

Not a polite smile.

A real one.

The kind that still felt new.

My chest tightened.

I lifted a hand in a small wave.

She waved back.

Then I remembered why this night mattered.

I turned toward the other sideline.

Westbrook was coming out.

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Different colors.

Different helmets.

And then-

There he was.

Number 52.

New uniform.

Same posture.

Same walk like he owned whatever ground he stepped on.

Daniel.

He wasn’t looking at us.

He was looking at the stands.

I followed his gaze.

Straight to Jessa.

My hands curled into fists.

Noah saw it too.

I didn’t have to look at him to know.

“Oh hell no,” I muttered.

Noah’s voice was quiet. “He doesn’t get to look at her anymore.”

“Agreed.”

Warmups were tense.

Every time we lined up near Westbrook, it felt like static in the air.

Daniel didn’t say anything at first.

He didn’t have to.

He just kept smiling.

And when we lined up across from each other for the first time?

He finally spoke.

“Funny seeing you here, Lombardi.”

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I stared straight ahead. “Focus on the game.”

He laughed under his breath. “Oh, I am.”

The first quarter was rough.

Westbrook came out swinging.

They scored first.

Then again.

14-3.

Coach was already losing his mind.

“Get your heads out of your asses!” he shouted. “You’re better than this!”

We were.

But we were also tight.

Playing angry instead of smart.

On one play, Daniel got right up in Noah’s space and said something I couldn’t hear.

Noah blocked him so hard he nearly flattened him.

Flag flew.

Coach went nuclear.

“CONTROL IT!”

I jogged over to Noah. “Don’t let him bait you.”

Noah’s jaw was locked. “I know.”

But I could tell.

He was struggling.

Between plays, I looked at the stands again.

Jessa was watching.

Not cheering.

Not smiling.

Just… watching.

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Like she was bracing for something.

That made my stomach twist.

This wasn’t just a game to her.

It was a reminder.

Late in the second quarter, we finally started to find rhythm.

We moved the ball.

Scored a touchdown.