Invisible To Her Bully (Jessa and Noah) novel Chapter 72

Noah

Sleep wasn’t happening

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I’d been staring at the ceiling for what had to be two hours, the glow from the digital clock on my nightstand ticking minutes away like it was mocking me. Midnight, then 12:30, then closer to one. Every time I closed my eyes, it was like my brain just pressed play on the same damn reel–Jackson’s face when we nearly came to blows, Jessa’s wide eyes after I kissed her, Daniel running his mouth at the worst possible time, the recruiter watching from the sidelines.

It was all scrambled together, messy as hell, and I couldn’t untangle one thought from the next.

I kicked the blanket off and sat up, elbows on my knees, dragging my hands down my face. My room was dark. except for the streetlight spilling weak orange stripes through the blinds. The house was quiet – Mom asleep. my little brother snoring down the hall. For once, I wasn’t grateful for the silence. It just left too much space for the noise in my head.

Jackson had been right at practice. I’d been off for longer than just this week. I’d been off since the second I realized I couldn’t look at Jessa Lombardi the same way anymore.

And yeah, maybe I’d done a good job pretending for a while – joking, showing off, acting like I didn’t notice her. But the act was cracking now, slipping every time I let myself react instead of keeping it locked down.

The pep rally. The kiss. The way I’d wanted to kiss her again after the game, right there in front of everyone.

God, what the hell was I thinking?

And then there was Jackson. My best friend. My quarterback. The guy I was supposed to trust more than anyone on the field, because he trusted me. The guy who’d rip me apart if he knew how badly I wanted his

sister.

The guy I’d nearly thrown punches with in the middle of practice because I couldn’t get my crap together.

I rubbed at my chest, trying to ease the tightness there. I could handle the recruiter pressure. I could handle Coach breathing down my neck. I could handle Daniel’s constant running mouth.

But Jessa?

She was the one thing I couldn’t seem to handle.

1 leaned back against the headboard, staring at the shadows on my ceiling. They shifted with the passing headlights outside, fading and reappearing, just like every thought I’d been trying to compartmentalize. I’d told Jackson I was tired of doing that, and it was true.

I was exhausted.

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