Lahat ng Kabanata ng Invisible To Her Bully: Kabanata 41 - Kabanata 50

JacksonPractice had been rough.I sat on the edge of my bed, still in my sweat-soaked t-shirt, with my playbook open in my lap. The pages were blurry, not because I didn’t know the plays, but because my head was pounding and my thoughts were all over the place.Noah was off his game — way off — and it was starting to get under my skin.It wasn’t just today, either. He’d been weird for days now, quieter than usual, distracted. Even at lunch, he was distant, barely talking. And when he did open his mouth, he was sharp, like a coiled spring ready to snap. Coach noticed it too, and today he lit into him hard.The thing was, Noah wasn’t just another player. He was my right-hand guy on the field. When he was locked in, we were unstoppable. When he wasn’t? It showed, and it showed bad.And Friday night? We didn’t have the luxury of Noah being anywhere but perfect. A college recruiter was coming to watch. My chance at a full-ride scholarship, maybe even a shot at playing for a top school — i

JessaI yanked open the passenger door of Mariah’s car and tossed my bag onto the floorboard with way more force than necessary. The slam of the door rattled the whole vehicle, and Mariah raised her eyebrows at me, already knowing something was up.“Good morning to you too,” she said dryly, putting the car into drive. “What’s with the dramatic entrance? Did your mom forget to buy coffee or something?”I folded my arms tightly across my chest, staring straight ahead. My throat felt tight, my heart pounding like I’d just sprinted down the driveway instead of stomping out of my house. “Just drive,” I muttered, my voice sharp and low.Mariah gave me a side glance. “Oh no, no, no. You don’t get to say ‘just drive’ like you’re in some action movie. Spill it, Jessa. What happened?”My jaw clenched. I didn’t want to talk about it — not really. If I said it out loud, it would make it real. But the anger boiling inside me wouldn’t stay contained, and by the time we reached the end of my street,

JessaThe hallway was still buzzing like a kicked beehive when Mariah strutted back to our lockers. She looked way too pleased with herself, like she’d just conquered a small country and didn’t even break a sweat doing it.I raised an eyebrow, closing my locker door with a soft click. “Okay… what was that all about?”Mariah leaned casually against the locker beside mine, flipping her hair over her shoulder like she was starring in some teen drama. “Oh, nothing,” she said, voice dripping with fake innocence. “Just… you know, clearing the air.”I crossed my arms, narrowing my eyes. “Mariah…”She smirked, the corners of her mouth tilting up in that smug little way that drove me crazy. “Relax, Jess. Sometimes people need to hear the truth. And trust me, it felt really good saying it.”I shook my head, half amused, half terrified. “You didn’t.”“Oh, I totally did.” Her grin widened. “And honestly? Your brother needed to be knocked down a peg or two. The way he just stands there while his f

JacksonPractice had run late.The field lights blazed against the darkening sky as the team broke down drills and scattered toward the locker room, everyone hyped up about tomorrow night’s game. My body ached, my jersey was clinging with sweat, and all I wanted to do was hit the showers, grab a burger, and crash so I could rest up for the biggest night of my life.Tomorrow wasn’t just any game — it was the game. A college recruiter would be in the stands, watching my every move. Coach had been relentless all week, drilling us harder than ever. Every pass, every run, every play had to be perfect.But even with the pressure mounting, something else had been clawing at the back of my mind.Jessa.I tried not to think about the cafeteria blow-up or the way she’d been walking around school like a ghost these past few days. I told myself I was focused on football, on my future. But the truth was, I’d been avoiding her problems because… well, because it was easier.And maybe because deep do

NoahThe gym was packed so tight it felt like the walls were shaking. The bleachers were a blur of our school colors, the band blasting some over-the-top fight song as everyone chanted, stomped, and clapped in rhythm.This was my world.The noise, the energy, the way people shouted my name when I walked past — I lived for this. It was where I was supposed to be, where I didn’t have to think about anything but football and winning.At least, that’s how it was supposed to feel.But my eyes kept drifting to her.I spotted Jessa sitting with Mariah near the middle of the bleachers, and my chest went tight. She was wearing one of our school shirts — no, not just any shirt.It had Lombardi across the back.Jackson’s name.And Jackson’s number — 12 — glittering like it was lit up just to mock me.I knew it was stupid. She was his sister. Of course, she’d wear his number to the pep rally. But the sight of her sitting there, laughing with Mariah, so damn proud to rep her brother…Yeah, I hated