Invisible To Her Bully (Jessa and Noah) novel Chapter 259

“She jumped me,” he said, frustration flashing. “I pushed her off.”

“You didn’t look like you hated it.”

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

His face hardened–not at me, but at the implication.

“I didn’t kiss her back.”

That was true.

I replayed it in my head.

He hadn’t.

He’d looked surprised.

Then annoyed.

Then focused on me.

“She wanted you to see,” he said quietly.

That hit.

Because I’d seen that flicker in her face too.

I swallowed.

“Why?”

“Because some people can’t stand that I’m with you.”

The noise around us felt far away.

“You’re not embarrassed?” I asked softly. “Being with me?”

He stared at me like I’d just insulted him.

“Are you kidding?”

I didn’t answer.

He stepped closer.

“Jess. I just played my last high school game. I scored a touchdown. We won. And the only person I was looking tor in that entice crowd was you.”

My chest tightened.

“I don’t care about Tori,” he continued. “I don’t care about Ridgeville. I care about you”

Mariah, who had been practically vibrating with rage behind me, crossed her arms

“She’s lucky you handled that,” she muttered. “Because I was about to ”

Mom squeezed my shoulder gently.

Noah lowered his voice.

“I’m sorry you had to see that. But I didn’t ask for it. And I would never do that to you.”

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I searched his face.

For doubt.

For guilt.

I didn’t find it.

I found frustration.

And sincerity.

And something steady.

“I believe you,” I said finally.

His shoulders dropped in relief.

“But,” I added, “if she ever does that again, I’m not responsible for what Mariah does.”

Mariah cracked her knuckles. “Correct.”

Noah huffed a laugh despite himself.

Then he did something simple.

He reached for my hand.

Not dramatic.

Not performative.

Just steady.

And in the middle of the chaos, under the stadium lights and falling snow, he laced his fingers through mine.

Not hiding.

Not caring who saw.

And for the first time since Tori launched herself at him-

I felt steady again.

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Chapter 2

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Chapter 259

Jessa

Noah reached me.

He stopped so close I could see the tiny scrape on his cheek where someone’s helmet must’ve caught him. His chest was still heaving, breath fogging in the cold. The lights above made his eyes look almost too bright, like the whole night had wired him into something electric.

But mine weren’t bright.

Mine were… steady.

My heart was pounding, sure. My stomach was still somewhere in my boots. And I could still feel the ghost of that moment- Tori’s hands around his neck, her mouth on his, the way it had looked from a distance before my brain could catch up.

But I wasn’t going to fold in half on a football field.

Not anymore.

Noah’s gaze flicked over my face like he was reading it, line by line. His mouth opened, and for a second he looked like he didn’t know what he was allowed to say.

“Jess-” he started.

Behind him, Tori hovered a few feet away, arms crossed now like she’d been wronged. The smugness wasn’t gone. It had just shifted into something sharper–watchful, waiting.

Mariah took one step forward like she was about to commit actual violence. Mom’s hand hovered at my shoulder, protective and trembling in the cold.

I lifted my chin first.

Not at Noah.

At Tori.

The way my stomach wanted to flip didn’t matter. The way my hands were still numb didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to pretend I didn’t see what she just did.

Tori’s eyes narrowed when she realized I wasn’t going to run.

Noah followed my line of sight and turned his head, looking at her fully now.

His voice came out low and firm. “What was that?”

Tori blinked like she couldn’t believe he’d asked.

“What was what?” she said, voice pitched sweet and bright like she was doing a post–game interview “We won People kiss. You’re acting like I committed a crime.”

“You didn’t ask,” he said, and the sharpness in his tone made even the blink

Tori’s mouth twitched. “It was a joke.”

Noah’s jaw flexed. “No, it wasn’t.”

The air around us felt like it tightened. Like the cold got colder.

Tori laughed once–too loud, too performative. “Oh my God. Don’t make it dramatic.”

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Noah took a step closer to her, not threatening, not violent–just… solid. Like a wall.

“It’s not dramatic,” he said. “It’s disrespectful.”

Her eyes flashed. “To who? You? Or her?”

She tilted her chin toward me as if I was an object in a conversation between important people.

My throat tightened. Not because it hurt–because I wanted to say something so sharp it would cut glass.

But I didn’t want sharp.

I wanted clear.

Noah didn’t even look at me when he answered. He stared at Tori like she was the one who needed to hear it.

“To my girlfriend.”

Silence.

It wasn’t the kind that happens when everyone stops talking.

It was the kind that happens when the world stutters.

A couple of kids near us actually paused mid–hug. Someone’s laugh cut off. I saw a phone freeze in the air like the person holding it forgot what they were recording.

Tori’s smile faltered for the first time. “Your… what?”

Noah’s shoulders rose with a steady breath. “My girlfriend.”

He pointed, not with a finger–just with his eyes. With his whole presence.

“Jessa.”

The way he said my name didn’t feel like a label. It felt like a claim, but not possessive. Not to show off.

To anchor.

My chest squeezed hard enough it almost hurt.

Tori’s face changed again, her confidence scrambling for something else to stand on. “Okay, wow. Relax. It was literally nothing. You’re acting like I-”

“No,” Noah cut in. “You’re acting like it’s nothing.”

Tori’s eyes flashed dangerously. “It’s a football field. Everyone’s celebrating. You think you’re the first guy a cheerleader has kissed after a win?”

Noah’s expression didn’t change, which somehow made him look even more unshakable.

“Probably not,” he said. “But I’m going to be the last.”

A couple of people nearby let out a low “ooooh,” like we were in a cafeteria again instead of on frozen turf.

Mariah made a satisfied sound under her breath. Mom’s hand tightened on iny shoulder like she’d been holding her own breath

too.

Tori’s face flushed, anger replacing the smugness. “So you’re choosing her over-”

Noah didn’t let her finish.

“I’m not choosing anyone over anyone,” he said. “I already chose.”

The words warmed something deep in my chest. Not because they were poetic. Because they were simple. Direct.

Real.

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Mariah was still beside me, watching like she was a bouncer at the door to my feelings. Mom was trying very hard to pretend she wasn’t listening to every single word like she had mom–superpowers.

I glanced between them and Noah.

“I… want a minute,” I said, and my voice surprised me–how normal it sounded. Like I was allowed to ask for space without feeling guilty.

Noah nodded immediately. “Yeah. Come on.”

He reached for my hand, slow–giving me the chance to pull away if I wanted.

I didn’t.

My fingers slid into his like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Mariah’s eyes widened like she was proud and annoyed and emotional all at once. Mom’s expression softened in a way that made my throat tighten–like she’d been waiting years to see me hold someone’s hand without flinching.

“Go,” Mom said softly.

Mariah leaned in and whispered, “If you need me to throw hands, text me.”

I huffed a laugh, and Noah’s mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile too hard.

He led me through the crowd, weaving between bodies and shoulder pads, past a cluster of players chanting and someone’s little brother trying to steal a helmet. The farther we got from midfield, the quieter it became. The track was less crowded. The stands were thinning out as people headed toward the buses or their cars or Benny’s.

We ended up near the far end of the bleachers, where the lights didn’t hit as harsh and the cold air felt cleaner.

Noah stopped beside the railing and turned to face me fully.

For a second, neither of us spoke.

The silence wasn’t awkward.

It was full.

He lifted his hands like he didn’t know where to put them, then settled one gently at my waist–not pulling, just grounding.

“You’re really okay?” he asked.

I met his eyes.

“Yeah,” I said. Then I added the truth, because I wasn’t going to pretend I was made of steel. “I’m… okay now.”

Noah’s jaw flexed. “I hated that.”

“I know.”

“I should’ve-” He cut himself off, exhaling. “I didn’t even see her until she was on me.”

“I know,” I said again, because it mattered that he heard it. “And I didn’t think you wanted her. That wasn’t it.”

Noah’s gaze softened. “Then what was it?”

I swallowed. The old me would’ve made a joke and shoved it down.

The new me… didn’t want to.

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“It was how fast it happened,” I admitted. “How public. How…” My voice caught slightly, then steadied. “How easy it would’ve been for me to look like the idiot again.”

Noah’s expression tightened, not angry at me–angry at the world that had trained my brain to go there.

“You’re not an idiot,” he said, firm.

I gave him a small look. “You don’t get to decide what my brain does when it panics.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, then nodded. “Fair.”

Then he leaned closer–not for a kiss yet. Just close enough that his voice could be only mine.

“I want you to know something,” he said.

I waited.

His thumb brushed lightly against the side of my waist, absentminded but grounding.

“I’m not doing this halfway,” he said. “Not with you.”

My throat tightened.

He went on, slower, like he needed to make sure each word landed.

“I don’t care what anyone thinks. I don’t care what they say. I don’t care if Tori–or anyone tries to stir something up. I’m with you.”

His eyes held mine.

“And I’m not going anywhere.”

My chest squeezed again, but this time it didn’t hurt.

It felt like relief.

A laugh bubbled out of me, quiet and shaky. “You just… said it. Like that. On the field.”

Noah’s mouth twitched. “Yeah.”

“That was…” I searched for the word. “Big.”

He shrugged one shoulder, but his eyes stayed serious. “It needed to be.”

I studied him for a second, then admitted softly, “A part of me wishes you did things like that more.”

Noah blinked. “What?”

Heat hit my cheeks. Of course it did.

“I mean…” I waved a vague hand, embarrassed by my own honesty. “Matiah does it. She goes big. She doesn’t care who sees. And sometimes I feel like like people don’t actually believe we’re together unless you practically announce it ”

Noah’s expression shifted. Not offended. Not defensive. Thoughtful.

He nodded once, slowly. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

He took a breath. “I’m not good at… performative stuff.”

Chapter 259

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“I know,” I said quietly. “And I’m not asking you to perform.”

Noah’s gaze softened. “But you want to feel… sure.”

“Yes,” I admitted. “Not because I don’t trust you. Because I’m still learning how to trust that good things can happen to me without someone trying to ruin it.”

Noah’s eyes held mine for a long beat.