Invisible To Her Bully (Jessa and Noah) novel Chapter 253

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Chapter 253

Jessa

I hate algebra.

Not in the dramatic “this is ruining my life” kind of way. Just the quiet, steady hatred that comes from staring at numbers that refuse to make sense no matter how long you look at them.

I had my math book open on the kitchen table, pencil tapping against the page while I tried to figure out how someone thought letters belonged in an equation.

X plus something divided by something else equals… what?

Who invented this?

And why?

I erased my answer for the third time and leaned back in my chair.

“Yeah,” I muttered to the empty kitchen. “That’s definitely wrong.

The house was quiet like it usually was in the afternoon. Mom was still at work, and Jackson wouldn’t be home until football practice ended.

Which meant it was just me and my algebra homework.

Living the dream.

I tried the problem again.

Failed again.

And then finally pushed the book away with a groan.

“Okay. I’m taking a break before I commit a crime against mathematics.”

Right as I said it, the front door opened.

Jackson.

I heard his cleats hit the hardwood floor in that heavy thud–thud rhythm that meant he was still wearing them.

Usually when Jackson got home the house got loud immediately. Cabinets opening. Fridge slamming. Complaining about practice.

Today…

Nothing

Just footsteps moving down the hallway.

Then his bedroom door closing.

I frowned.

That wasn’t normal.

I grabbed my glass of water and walked upstairs.

His door was closed, which again, wasn’t weird. But the quiet behind it was

I knocked.

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“Jackson?”

No answer.

I pushed the door open a little.

He was lying on his bed staring at the ceiling, still in his practice clothes. One arm behind his head, the other hanging off the

mattress.

He didn’t even look up when I walked in.

“…You planning on sleeping like that?” I asked.

His eyes shifted toward me.

“Oh. Hey.”

That alone told me something was off.

Jackson is many things. Subtle isn’t one of them.

“You okay?” I asked.

He exhaled slowly.

“Coach called me into his office again today.”

I leaned against the doorframe.

“The scholarship thing?”

He nodded.

My stomach sank a little.

“What happened?”

Jackson sat up, elbows on his knees.

“A recruiter had questions.”

I waited.

He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Apparently when stuff gets loud enough online, people notice.”

That was all he said, but I understood exactly what he meant.

Rumors.

Drama.

All the stupid noise that Ridgeville somehow turns into a sport.

“What did Coach say?” I asked.

“He told them it wasn’t true. Said the school’s dealing with cyber bullying”

I let out a small breath.

“Good.”

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“Yeah.”

But he still looked tense.

Like the conversation was still stuck in his head.

I stepped further into the room and sat in his desk chair.

“You worried?”

He laughed quietly.

“I mean… yeah.”

His fingers laced together.

“I’ve been working toward this since I was ten, Jess.”

I nodded.

“I know.”

He looked at the floor.

“And it almost gets screwed up because some idiots can’t mind their own business.”

I didn’t interrupt.

Because that part I understood better than anyone.

Jackson finally leaned back on his hands.

“I hate this town sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” I said.

That got a small smirk out of him.

“Fair.”

For a minute neither of us said anything.

Then I said something that had been sitting in my head since Noah and I talked after the game.

“You know Ridgeville didn’t give you that scholarship opportunity, right?”

Jackson frowned slightly.

“What?”

“You did.”

He watched me carefully now.

“You’re the one who spent every summer throwing footballs in the backyard. You’re the one who woke up early tor training, You’re the one who stayed after practice when everyone else went home

”

I shrugged.

“Ridgeville didn’t build that. You did.”

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