Chapter 145: Chapter 145: It’s , I’m Mortir Quincy’s Girlfriend
Mortir Quincy’s eyes were fixed on Holly Winslow. His "little student’s" face was flushed, her lips also red—so red that he was getting the urge to kiss her.
His gaze was too intense. Holly Winslow poked him with her finger, signaling for him to tone it down a bit.
Mortir Quincy raised an eyebrow. He noticed so strands of hair had co loose at the nape of her neck. He folded the safety notice he was holding, tucked it into his pocket, then reached up, pulled out her hair tie, and skillfully redid her hair.
The Dean of Discipline kept glancing over at them.
Even though she hadn’t done anything wrong, Holly Winslow started to feel guilty. Unable to stand still, she rubbed her nose and said, "I’m heading down."
Mortir Quincy reached out and held her back, whispering, "Behave. Just stand here."
Whatever the Dean of Discipline was thinking, she moved a little farther away from them.
Holly Winslow: "..."
After Mortir Quincy went up to the podium, Holly Winslow stood next to the principal.
The principal saw her but didn’t ask any questions. Instead, he asked with kindly concern, "How are your studies lately? Are you adjusting okay?"
Holly Winslow nodded obediently. "They’re okay."
"As long as they’re okay..."
The principal had barely finished the word "okay" when a sudden "Whoa!" erupted from the students below.
He looked over and saw Mortir Quincy, in the center of the stage, bending down to pick up a hair tie from the floor. A waterlon-patterned hair tie.
Holly Winslow saw it too. It was the hair tie she’d bought yesterday; she had reflexively stuffed it into Mortir Quincy’s pocket.
"..."
Mortir Quincy calmly flicked the dust off the hair tie and tucked it into his pocket. Then, he unfolded the safety notice and began to read in a monotone voice, "One: Do not play or chase on your own near rivers, lakes, streams, reservoirs, ditches, or ponds, to prevent slipping into the water..."
The principal’s eyesight wasn’t very good. He asked the Dean of Discipline beside him, "What did he drop?"
Holly Winslow: "..."
The Dean of Discipline pushed up her glasses and lied through her teeth. "I didn’t get a clear look."
Holly Winslow shot her a look. "..."
The principal just said, "Oh."
The safety assembly wasn’t dismissed until ten minutes into the next class period.
On the way back to the classroom, Paul Powell sidled up to Mortir Quincy and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Mortir," he said, "that hair tie you dropped earlier... it doesn’t belong to your girlfriend, does it?"
Mortir Quincy glanced at the girl beside him and raised an eyebrow. "Yeah," he said. "It’s my girlfriend’s."
"Holy crap, Mortir! It’s not cool to shove your PDA in our faces like that." Paul Powell looked completely jealous.
Pantheon rolled his eyes at him and taunted bluntly, "You brought this on yourself, you idiot."
Why ask when you already know?
"You’re the idiot!"
Paul Powell shot back with a "Pah!" before circling around to Holly Winslow’s side. "Cousin," he said, trying to butter her up, "you must have seen your cousin-in-law. Tell us, what class is she in?"
"I’ll buy you milk tea if you tell us. Two cups."
’He was just too curious about what kind of girl could make Mortir Quincy carry her hair tie.’
Holly Winslow: "..."
’Two cups of milk tea?’
’Could she just admit it was her?’
She let out an unnatural cough and said, half-joking but half-serious, "It’s . I’m Mortir Quincy’s girlfriend."
Paul Powell thought she was joking and burst out laughing. "HAHA, cousin, that’s a good one. You’re hilarious."
"Co on, stop covering for your cousin. We’re going to find out eventually."
Pantheon, Zeke Zane, and Chase Hawkins rolled their eyes at the idiot, speechless. At the sa ti, they felt frustrated. It was so obvious that Mortir Quincy and Holly Winslow were dating, but no one would believe you if you told them.
When other students started dating, teachers and parents would get involved at the slightest hint of a rumor.
Mortir Quincy glanced at Paul Powell, who was still laughing like a moron, and took Holly Winslow’s hand. "I’ll buy them for you later," he said.
Before long, the entire school knew about the hair tie falling out of Mortir Quincy’s pocket.
「In the staff room.」
The horoom teacher for Class 3 looked at Gabe Chaucer as he was getting so water and teased with a smile, "Teacher Chaucer, is that Mortir Quincy from your class dating soone?"
Gabe Chaucer was stunned for a mont, then replied with a casual, joking laugh, "What are you talking about, Teacher Yates? There’s no way Mortir Quincy is dating. That hair tie belongs to Holly Winslow."
After he spoke, he took a sip of water to hide his awkwardness.
He later realized he’d accidentally spoken the truth.
The horoom teacher for Class 4 chid in, "Not necessarily, Teacher Chaucer. Maybe Mortir Quincy has found you a straight-A student for a ’daughter-in-law’!"
"Going by what you’re saying, does this an I need to prepare a gift?" Gabe Chaucer said, laughing to brush them off.
At that, all the teachers in the staff room burst out laughing.
No one took it seriously—except for Gabe Chaucer. The others just treated it as a passing joke.
After the exams, it was, as expected, ti to go over the test papers. Two periods for math, two for language arts...
By the ti they had gone through the midterm exam papers for every subject, two days had passed.
Holly Winslow diligently copied her mistakes into her error notebook. It was only halfway through the sester, and she had already filled an entire notebook.
She rummaged through her desk drawer, then rummaged so more, but there were no empty notebooks left.
Mortir Quincy, who had been doing his howork, stopped writing and looked over at her. "What are you looking for?"
"A notebook. I’m out," Holly Winslow said, closing her filled error notebook. She then pulled out an unfinished test paper to work on.
Mortir Quincy reached into his desk, fumbled around for a few seconds, and pulled out a "notebook." He raised an eyebrow. "You ran out and didn’t think to ask your husband?"
Holly Winslow stared at the red "notebook," on which the two large, gleaming golden words "First Prize" were printed. "..."
She pointed at the words "First Prize" and asked, "Are you sure you want
to use this for taking notes?"
The girl’s eyes went wide, looking absolutely adorable.
Mortir Quincy let out a low chuckle and couldn’t resist ruffling her hair. "What’s there to be unsure about? All this family fortune is yours."
He paused for a mont before adding, "There are plenty more at ho, so feel free to use them. When you run out, your husband will just go earn more for you."
He only mouthed the word "husband."
’Plenty more at ho?’
Holly Winslow felt a pang of "jealousy." She wanted lots of first-prize awards, too.
Pantheon and Zeke Zane, sitting in the row ahead, overheard the conversation. They exchanged a look, both of them wearing an expression that said they "couldn’t go on living."
Pantheon clutched his stomach. "I gotta go to the bathroom. This damn seat is toxic."
"Count
in." Zeke Zane got up and went with him.
Mortir Quincy just raised an eyebrow at their pointed display, completely unfazed.
Holly Winslow took the first-prize certificate to use as a notebook and continued copying her mistakes. Mortir Quincy watched her for a mont before returning to his own howork.
That afternoon, Gabe Chaucer had the class change seats. When he saw that Mortir Quincy and Holly Winslow were once again sitting together, he didn’t say anything. The school had already announced they wouldn’t force the seating arrangents.
In the honors class, changing seats was almost the sa as not changing them at all. Most students stayed put, not out of any particular attachnt to their deskmates, but because they had too many books and moving was a hassle.
Paul Powell, however, wasn’t afraid of the hassle. Right under Gabe Chaucer’s nose, he picked a seat in the sa row as Luna Lynch, separated only by the aisle.
Gabe Chaucer simply turned a blind eye. They would all be graduating soon enough anyway.
With a little over ten minutes left of class after everyone had moved, he got down to business. "Starting tomorrow, during language arts, I’ll be randomly calling on students to recite classical Chinese texts. As for which text it will be, even I don’t know."
"Anyone who fails to recite it will have to copy that text twenty tis."
The whole class let out a collective groan. "AHHHH! Teacher, please spare us!"
Gabe Chaucer slapped the desk and rcilessly rejected their pleas. "I’ll spare you after graduation. For now, you’re all going to buckle down and morize."
The class let out another anguished "AHHHH!"
After all the groaning, the evening language arts study session was much more focused than usual. Everyone was reading and morizing simultaneously. Holly Winslow clutched her language arts book, reciting with her eyes closed, mumbling the words and pausing from ti to ti.
Mortir Quincy glanced at her a few tis, unable to hold back a smile. Then, he started reciting along with her, one line after another.
Pantheon, Zeke Zane, and Chase Hawkins: "..."
This latest display of affection was, as far as they were concerned, fucking ’very good’.
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