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หน้าหลัก / YA/TEEN / Invisible To Her Bully / บทที่ 1 - บทที่ 10

บททั้งหมดของ Invisible To Her Bully: บทที่ 1 - บทที่ 10

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Chapter 1

JessaSeven Years EarlierGrowing up as a twin sounds fun, right? Built-in best friend, someone who always has your back, someone who gets you without explanation. That’s what I had—at least for the first ten years of my life.My twin brother, Jackson, was the center of my world. We were fraternal twins, but opposites in every way. Jackson was tall, lean, athletic, and could make friends with just about anyone. I was short, a little chunky, shy to the point of painful, and usually tripping over my own feet.But it never mattered to me. I didn’t need a million friends. I had Jackson. He was my best friend, my other half, my person.It was always just the two of us. Our mom worked constantly to keep food on the table, so most of the time it was just me and him. Maybe that’s why we clung to each other so hard.“Jax, I wanna go home,” I whined, dragging my feet as he tossed a football from hand to hand.“Jess, chill. I told the new kid I’d meet him here to throw the ball around,” he said,
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Chapter 2

JessaI tiptoe down the hallway, holding my breath. If Jackson’s awake, he’ll have some comment locked and loaded about my clothes, my hair, or just… me. I’d rather start the day without it.Too late. His bedroom door creaks open, and there he is—my twin, my other half, my betrayer—all six feet of cocky quarterback standing in my way.“Morning, Jess,” he says, eyes flicking over my shirt. “Nice… tent.”I don’t even answer. I just shoulder past him, my cheeks heating.“Aw, come on, don’t be so sensitive,” he calls after me.Sensitive. That’s what he calls me when his words cut deep, like it’s my fault for feeling anything.By the time I make it to the kitchen, Mom’s already gone. She leaves early most mornings, and I can’t decide if I’m grateful or jealous. Grateful that she doesn’t see me like this, jealous that she never has time for us.Jackson grabs a protein shake from the fridge and downs it like he’s in some athlete commercial. I butter a piece of toast, trying to look invisible
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Chapter 3

NoahMost people think I’ve got it easy.They see the jersey, the captain’s armband, the girls who slide notes into my locker, the teachers who cut me slack because I’m “leading the team this season.” They see the highlight reels, the touchdowns, the swagger.And yeah, I play into it. Why wouldn’t I? That image has kept me on top since freshman year.But what they don’t see—the part I’d never admit out loud—is that the best part of my day isn’t the touchdowns. It’s not the cheers, or even the wins.It’s Jessa Lombardi’s face when I get under her skin.I shouldn’t find it that entertaining. She’s Jackson’s twin, for one. Which means technically, she’s off-limits. But God, she makes it too easy. The way her cheeks flush, the way she slams things down or throws out these sharp little comebacks—Jessa’s like one giant exposed nerve. Sensitive as hell.And I like testing how far I can push before she snaps.Take this morning, for example.Jackson and I were heading to practice, but I swung
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Chapter 4

NoahThe problem with lying to yourself is that eventually, the truth claws its way out.I’ve been telling myself for years that I bug Jessa because it’s easy. Because she’s reactive, and I like the way she gets flustered. That’s it. Simple.But it’s not.If I’m honest—and I almost never am, even in my own head—it started way before she became “sensitive Jessa.”It started in middle school.Back then, Jessa was different. Not unrecognizable—she still had the dark eyes, the messy hair, the sharp tongue—but she laughed more. She’d shoot water through her teeth at Jackson during lunch, or race us to the corner store after practice and somehow always win, even though her legs were half the size of ours.She wasn’t invisible back then. She didn’t try to be.I noticed her before I even realized I was noticing her. The way her grin curved higher on the right side. The way she’d wrinkle her nose when she concentrated. The way she never backed down, even when she should have.I liked it.Too m
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Chapter 5

JessaIf there’s one thing Noah Carter is good at, it’s getting under my skin.I swear he wakes up every morning plotting new ways to make my life miserable. It doesn’t matter if it’s at home, at school, or in front of half the football team—he knows exactly where to poke, and he does it with this infuriating grin that makes me want to hurl something at his perfect, stupid face.Today was no different.Actually, scratch that. Today was worse.It started in the locker-lined hallway outside the gym. Jackson and I had just finished P.E., and I was already in a foul mood. Nothing like running laps in front of a bunch of guys who only see you as the punchline to some cruel joke. I was sweaty, tired, and all I wanted was to get to my next class without incident.Of course, incident was practically Noah’s middle name.He was leaning against the wall with two of his teammates, laughing at something dumb. His jersey hung loose over his broad shoulders, helmet dangling from his fingers like an
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Chapter 6

NoahI knew I’d screwed up the second the words left my mouth.“Careful going through the door. Don’t want your thick thighs getting stuck.”It was meant to be a joke. Just another jab in the endless back-and-forth I had with Jessa Lombardi. Something to get her riled up, to see her eyes spark with that fire I secretly loved provoking.But the way she froze, the flush crawling up her cheeks, the way her grip on her books went white-knuckle—yeah, I’d crossed a line.And instead of being smart enough to shut up, I doubled down. I smirked. I played it off. I let the guys laugh.Because what else was I supposed to do? Admit I didn’t mean it? Admit the truth—that I notice her way too much, that half my insults come from watching her too closely?No way.So I stayed leaning against the wall, cool and untouchable, while inside my chest something twisted tight.Jackson caught up with me after practice. We were sitting on the bleachers, helmets off, sweat cooling on our skin. He was chugging w
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Chapter 7

JessaThe worst part wasn’t Noah’s comment itself.It was that he said it in front of everyone.The words—“Don’t want your thick thighs getting stuck”—still echoed in my head like a chant I couldn’t shut off. They followed me into the cafeteria the next day, clinging to me like smoke I couldn’t wash off.I kept my head down, tray balanced in my hands, pretending I didn’t hear the laughter that had bubbled up after he said it. Pretending it didn’t sting. Pretending I was fine.But I wasn’t.Because no matter how hard I tried to brush it off, I’d felt the sting behind my ribs. The kind that didn’t fade once the moment passed.Mariah nudged me as we slid into a table near the back. “You okay?”“Totally,” I said quickly, stabbing my fork into the mystery pasta on my tray. “Why wouldn’t I be?”She gave me a look. The kind that said she knew me too well. “Because you’ve been quiet since practice yesterday. And because you’re chewing like you’re imagining murdering someone.”I blinked, reali
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Chapter 8

JessaIt’s easy for people like Mariah to say “ignore him.”Because Mariah isn’t me. She isn’t stuck in a body that feels wrong no matter what angle you look at it. She isn’t the girl who hears the word thick and feels it pressing down on her like a weight she can’t throw off.I hate that word.I hate the way it echoes in my head when I try on jeans in the dressing room. I hate the way I compare myself to every other girl at school—girls with flat stomachs and legs that look like they belong on magazine covers.I hate that when Noah said it yesterday, even though he said it with that crooked smirk, my brain didn’t argue with him.It agreed.It whispered, He’s not wrong. You are thick. You are the joke.And I hate myself most of all for believing it.At night, lying in bed, I sometimes imagine waking up as someone else. Someone who doesn’t have to tug her hoodie tighter around her in the cafeteria. Someone who doesn’t worry that people are staring at her legs when she runs drills on the
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Chapter 9

JessaThe mirror has always been my enemy.Most nights, I try not to look. I throw my hoodie on the chair, pull on pajamas, and crawl under the covers without giving the glass across my room a second glance. But tonight… I can’t help it.Noah’s words are still stuck in my head. Thick thighs. The way everyone laughed. The way Jackson didn’t even think to defend me—he just laughed too, like it was harmless. Like it was fine.My eyes flick toward the mirror, and before I can stop myself, I’m standing in front of it.I tug my T-shirt tighter around my middle, then looser, then tighter again. My reflection stares back at me, cruel and unforgiving. I pinch at the skin on my stomach, my hips, my legs.“Why?” My voice cracks in the empty room. “Why did I have to be the big girl?”The words echo, hollow, pathetic.Tears burn the corners of my eyes. I swipe at them, angry. Angry at Noah for putting this weight back in my chest. Angry at Jackson for laughing. Angry at me for caring so much.But
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Chapter 10

NoahI swear, Jessa Lombardi has a permanent target painted on her back.Not that she knows it—but I can’t stop aiming for it. It’s too easy. She’s too easy. The way her cheeks flush when I throw out a jab, the way her eyes spark like she’s caught between wanting to deck me and wanting to disappear.Most girls roll their eyes or toss something back. Jessa… she feels everything. And I can’t help it—I like watching her squirm.Even if sometimes, afterward, I wonder why I push her so hard.Maybe it’s because I notice her more than I should.She’s not like the girls who hang around after practice, batting their lashes and hoping for attention. Jessa doesn’t try. She hides in hoodies and keeps her head down, like she doesn’t realize she’s got this fire in her that makes it impossible not to look.But instead of saying that, I run my mouth. I joke. I poke. And when she stares back at me with that wounded glare, it hits deeper than I ever admit.Like yesterday, when she actually snapped back.
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