บททั้งหมดของ Invisible To Her Bully: บทที่ 221 - บทที่ 230

JessaSnow days weren’t supposed to feel like this.They were supposed to feel like cartoons and pajamas and Mom yelling about chores because “being home doesn’t mean being lazy.”Not… whatever this was.Not me walking out of Ridgeville High with Noah Carter beside me, his hand warm around mine, like it was the most normal thing in the world.Like I belonged there.Like I belonged with him.The parking lot was chaos—kids cheering, teachers trying to herd everyone like we were feral animals, snow swirling down in thick, steady flakes.Mariah was bouncing on her toes.“This is the best day of my life,” she announced dramatically.Jackson snorted. “You need higher standards.”Mariah pointed at him. “Says the Homecoming King who probably has a crown-shaped dent in his ego.”Jackson rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched.Noah squeezed my hand gently, leaning closer.“You good?” he asked.I nodded, even though my heart was doing something ridiculous.“I’m good.”And I was.T

JacksonNoah’s truck had barely disappeared down the street before I exhaled like I’d been holding my breath for an hour.Jessa was gone.With Noah.Alone.In his truck.My eye twitched.Mariah leaned against her car, arms folded, watching me with that smug little smile she always wore when she knew exactly what I was thinking.“What?” I demanded.She lifted a brow. “You look like you’re about to file a missing persons report on your own sister.”“I’m not—” I started, then stopped, because it sounded ridiculous even in my head.Mariah’s grin widened. “Oh my God. You are.”I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. “This is weird.”“Welcome to having feelings,” she said brightly.I shot her a look. “Don’t.”She laughed.And then, because my brain was apparently broken lately, I heard myself say, “Noah had a good idea.”Mariah blinked. “Uh oh.”“I’m serious,” I said quickly. “How about… coming over to my place?”Her smile turned wicked. “Oh. So you want a little snow day hangout?”“It’s n

MariahJackson’s mouth was warm.Too warm.The kind of warm that made my brain forget how to form full sentences, like every thought I’d had before this moment was suddenly irrelevant.Outside, the wind was throwing snow at the windows like it had a personal vendetta. The streetlights made the storm glow white and frantic, and every few seconds a gust would slam into the house hard enough to make the glass shiver.Inside, everything felt small in the best way.The living room lamp cast a soft circle of light over the couch. The heater clicked and hummed like it was working overtime. Somewhere deeper in the house, pipes made those old-house groans like they were complaining about being awake.And right here, right now—Jackson Lombardi’s hands were on my waist like he’d decided that was where they belonged.We’d kissed before.A lot, actually.But this… this was different.This wasn’t a stolen second in a hallway, or leaning over a booth at Benny’s where everyone could stare and whisper

NoahI woke up feeling like my brain had been put through a blender.Not because anything bad happened.Because nothing bad happened.Which somehow made it worse.Jessa Lombardi was in my house.In my guest room.Because of a blizzard.Because my mom had insisted.Because life apparently wanted to throw me into the deep end of awkward teenage romance and see if I survived.Downstairs, the kitchen smelled like bacon and coffee—Dad’s domain. Mom was humming to herself like this was the most normal thing in the world.I was trying to act normal too.It wasn’t working.I poured cereal into a bowl like I’d done a thousand times, except today my hands felt like they belonged to someone else.Because any second now…She was going to walk in.And I didn’t know what version of myself I was supposed to be.Boyfriend Noah?Football Noah?Last-night-I-kissed-you-on-my-couch Noah?Don’t-think-about-that-too-hard Noah?The hallway creaked softly.My spine went rigid.Then she appeared.Jessa steppe

JessaMariah’s car smelled like peppermint gum and chaos.Which, honestly, felt normal.She pulled out of my driveway like she was driving in the Indy 500, one hand on the wheel, the other flipping through the radio stations.“You know,” she said, “if we die in a fiery crash, I want my legacy to be that I looked hot doing it.”I snorted. “Your legacy will be that you refused to drive under ten miles over the speed limit.”“That’s called confidence,” she corrected.“It’s called reckless.”“It’s called fun.”I shook my head, smiling despite myself.Mariah was humming along to some pop song like it was any other Monday morning, like she hadn’t literally been snowed in with my brother two nights ago.Like I hadn’t been snowed in with Noah.Like our lives weren’t… weirdly different now.But she wasn’t acting weird.So I wasn’t going to either.“So,” she said casually, glancing at me. “Did Noah survive breakfast with my future in-laws?”I choked. “Mariah!”“What?” She grinned. “Rachel Carte