Chapter 114: Chapter 114: Opening Day 1, Half Price for Couples
Just then, Chase Hawkins poked his head out from behind the curtain of his lower bunk, exclaiming in surprise, "Mortir Quincy, your girlfriend goes to Jarton High?"
The others in the room imdiately turned to look at Mortir Quincy with curiosity.
Mortir didn’t seem the least bit flustered. He leisurely took a bite of his popsicle, waiting a few seconds before letting out a soft "Yeah."
"Holy shit!"
After his initial shock, Chase Hawkins pressed on, "Which class is she in? Mortir, that’s not cool. You haven’t even brought your girl out for us to et."
"It’s not like we, your bros, would embarrass you."
"You’ve all t her," Mortir said, tossing the wooden popsicle stick into the trash can before heading to the balcony to wash up.
The guys in the dorm room just stared at each other blankly. Paul Powell scratched his head and ventured a guess, "Don’t tell
she’s in our class."
Pantheon nodded in agreent. "That makes sense."
Chase Hawkins suddenly grinned. "It’s not his cousin, is it? Hahahaha."
The next second, a small book landed on his bed. Paul Powell said with disgust, "You’re nuts."
"I was just kidding. You’re the one who’s nuts."
After shooting him a glare, Chase continued, "There are only eight girls in our class. If you exclude Valerie Walsh and her friends, plus his cousin, that only leaves four."
He deliberately lowered his voice when he said Valerie Walsh’s na.
Paul Powell cut in urgently, "Exclude Luna Lynch, too."
That left three girls.
Chase Hawkins pictured the faces of the three remaining girls. To be honest, they really weren’t very pretty. Ahem, even Luna Lynch’s plain looks ranked third in the Rocket Class.
He quickly shook his head. "Impossible. She’s probably not in our class."
The four or five of them continued to discuss it, while Pantheon and Zeke Zane, who were in on the secret, focused on their howork.
’These idiots could guess until the sky falls and they still wouldn’t figure out who it is.’
The word "cousin" had really shot down a whole line of speculation.
...
Once May 20th had passed, the fifteen-day countdown to the college entrance exams began for the seniors. The cafeteria granted them priority dining access, delaying the alti for the sophomores and freshn by twenty minutes.
Amidst the seniors’ tense review period, the school organized a pre-exam rally to help them relax a bit.
As the top sophomore, Mortir Quincy was specially called upon by the school to go on stage and offer well wishes to the senior students.
In addition, the Rocket Class also put on a performance—a class-wide poetry reading, which was completely devoid of any unique or interesting features.
It had been Gabe Chaucer’s idea, likely as a final opportunity for the entire class to perform on stage together.
They used their self-study periods for rehearsals, which didn’t take up too much ti—only three days.
With five days left until the exams, the pre-exam rally was held.
The entire Rocket Class, dressed in their school uniforms, sat in the middle of the athletic field, right behind the seniors.
The boy on stage wore his uniform. His hair was short and clean-cut, and his chiseled features gave him an ascetic air. The cropped, uniform-issue trousers made his legs look exceptionally long.
His deep, magnetic voice resonated through the speakers. "I wish all the seniors the best of luck. May you exceed all expectations and achieve great success on your exams..."
The response from the senior girls completely drowned out the boys. Holly Winslow pouted. ’So this is the superficiality of high school.’
But she had to admit, that guy Mortir Quincy was exceptionally handso. The odds of soone looking like that were about the sa as winning a five-million-dollar lottery.
After Mortir ca down from the stage, he saw his wife’s lips pursed in a pout. He leaned in close. "Jealous?"
"I’m yours."
He was so quick with sweet nothings now. Holly Winslow couldn’t help but let out a soft cough as her ears turned red.
She turned her head away. "Don’t distract
from the show."
"As you wish, my dear wife." After saying this, Mortir Quincy straightened up and rested his hand on the back of her stool.
Gabe Chaucer glanced over, then glanced over again, before turning back to talk to the horoom teacher of the neighboring class.
Half an hour later, it was finally the Rocket Class’s turn to perform. Holly Winslow stood at the end of the front row, and Mortir Quincy stood at the end of the second row.
After the class finished their recitation, Gabe Chaucer spoke into the microphone, offering a few words of encouragent to the seniors. "Students, victory belongs to you..."
After his speech, he joked, "I hope that during the college entrance exams, you’ll all be like our class’s Quincy, the Exam God, and see every tough question as trash!"
The students at the school had secretly given Mortir Quincy the nickna "Quincy, the Exam God" and had even co up with a catchphrase: "With Quincy, the Exam God, every tough question is trash."
Hearing the inside joke, the entire school erupted in laughter.
Holly Winslow felt soone pull her hair. She turned to glare at a certain Mr. Quincy behind her. He simply raised an eyebrow at her. "Holly, you sll so good."
Holly Winslow was speechless.
’Such a flirt.’
A boy from the senior class shouted, "Teacher, can you lend our class your Quincy, the Exam God for the exams?"
Gabe Chaucer laughed. "Sure!"
Although there were pathetically few spectacular performances, for the seniors who had finally gotten a chance to unwind, it was a joyous occasion.
...
Because Jarton High’s campus was needed for the college entrance exams, the sophomores and freshn were given a four-day break, two days of which were their regularly scheduled weekend.
During the break, Wyatt Winslow had to go on a three-day business trip. Since tutoring was only held on the two weekend days, Holly Winslow decided to spend those two days back at the Winslow family ho to see her grandparents.
It was also partly to put her father’s mind at ease.
While she was packing, Mortir Quincy suddenly called. "Wife, want to go to the city for two days? A new aquarium is opening, and tomorrow is the official opening day—fifty percent off."
Hearing it was half-off, Holly Winslow was a little tempted. Ahem, she was just the type of person who liked a good bargain.
At this thought, she huffed. ’Scholar Quincy must have known this about
to bring it up.’
’Insidious.’
"I’ll ask my dad."
She hung up and called Wyatt Winslow. He answered on the first ring. She told him honestly that she wanted to go to the city with Mortir to visit the aquarium.
Wyatt Winslow was silent for a mont before agreeing. For Holly to call and ask for his permission ant she wanted to go out with him openly and honestly.
She trusted him, so what reason did he have not to trust her?
Not long after, Mortir Quincy received a call from his future father-in-law, his hand trembling slightly as he answered.
He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard his father-in-law’s approval, which was imdiately followed by a "reminder" that lasted for several minutes.
Naly, not to do anything "improper."
The two packed a few changes of clothes and imdiately bought bus tickets to the city.
The journey took over three hours, and it was already past six o’clock when they arrived.
Traveling with Mortir Quincy, Holly Winslow didn’t have to worry about a thing. Soone carried her luggage, and soone had already arranged for a hotel.
It was a four-star hotel, located just a few hundred ters from the bus station.
A king-bed room with a floor-to-ceiling window.
They were both sweaty from the stuffy bus ride, so they showered and changed before heading out.
Holly Winslow wore a pale yellow dress, her hair tied up in a bun. Mortir was in a white T-shirt and black casual capris.
After dinner, they went to the aquarium. Holly saw a sign above the entrance that read: Couples Get 50% Off on Opening Day.
"..."
The boy and girl in front of them looked a bit young. The ticket agent at the counter suspected they were just pretending to be a couple for the discount. "IDs."
Mortir Quincy handed over their IDs and said calmly, "Young love."
The agent: "..."
Holly Winslow: "..."
eting the ticket agent’s eyes, her face flushed red all the way to her neck. She reached out and pinched Mortir’s waist. ’He could have just handed over the IDs. Why did he have to say more?’
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