Reborn with My Genius Husband-Chapter 133: Mortimer Quincy, Damn You... Stealing My Ice Cream Cone
Gabe Chaucer, dressed in sportswear, noticed Mortimer Quincy and Holly Winslow’s "cousin" outfits and thought they looked pretty good. He chatted with the other homeroom teachers, "When they graduate, I’ll have our class make uniforms like that. They look nice."
Hearing this, the homeroom teacher for Class 4 glanced over and agreed, "They do look nice, but that brand is a bit expensive. What was it, three hundred or four hundred?"
"Let me look it up."
She took out her phone, searched for the brand, and tapped on the page. A line of text popped up: "Line-art couple’s outfits, supports photo DIY."
Gabe Chaucer was only focused on the price. 399. A bit expensive, indeed.
"I’ll look online for a cheaper option when the time comes."
Later, looking back on the idea of buying couple’s outfits for his students, he thought he was a very "on the ball" homeroom teacher.
"I’m so jealous Teacher Chaucer is already thinking about class uniforms. I’m still stressing about that group of students in my class, chasing after them to study every day. It’s an endless battle."
The Class 3 homeroom teacher sighed. "The learning atmosphere really is so important. To have two great students come from one family... that’s incredible."
The tug-of-war competition was divided into fourteen groups: seven for girls and seven for boys. Teams would compete in pairs, with the winner advancing to the next round, and so on.
The Rocket Class was the top class of the senior year, so their boys’ team was up first.
The boys chosen were all the stronger ones in the class, all weighing over 130 pounds. Ahem. In truth, compared to the other classes, the Rocket Class boys were still relatively weaker.
The principal acted as the referee. He let go of the rope and blew the whistle. The pulling started instantly. Before long, Paul Powell’s roar came from the tug-of-war line. "My damn shoe is ripping apart! Slow down!"
Holly Winslow’s attention immediately went to his feet. One look and she burst out laughing. His toes were poking out from the front of his shoe.
Pantheon clutched his stomach, laughing so hard he could barely breathe. "Holy shit, I’m dying! Rook, what kind of shoes did you buy?"
While pulling back with all his might, Paul Powell ground out through clenched teeth, "Shut the hell up." Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at Luna Lynch in the crowd.
Their eyes met.
Usually so boisterous, his face now flushed red all the way to his neck.
He wished he could change his shoes that very instant.
If they didn’t win, he’d have no right to call himself Paul Powell.
He pulled even harder, and instantly, the better part of his foot slipped out of the shoe.
Holly Winslow leaned against Mortimer Quincy, laughing until her stomach ached. It was a miserable sight, but she couldn’t suppress her unkind laughter.
To keep her from falling, Mortimer Quincy put an arm around her waist, exchanging a calm glance with the principal on the opposite side.
The Rocket Class won.
The shoe on Paul Powell’s foot was now bunched up around his ankle, his entire sole exposed. It was utterly ridiculous.
Pantheon was laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe. "Son of a... I’m dying of laughter."
"Piss off, piss off."
Paul Powell took off the ruined shoe, looked at it for a few moments, and started to fret. "I just bought this less than a week ago. If my mom finds out, I’m definitely getting a beating."
His gloom didn’t last long. He added, "Who wants to go get a pair of shoes for me? I’ll buy you an ice cream bar."
Chase Hawkins raised his hand. "I’ll go. Hand over the meal card."
Paul Powell fished it out and gave it to him. "Buy an extra one."
As for who that extra one was for, everyone knew.
"Ooooh," the group hooted.
Paul Powell gave them a playful kick. "Piss off, piss off."
He stole a glance at Luna Lynch, who was standing nearby, taking out a small notebook to read.
He chuckled, "Heh heh," then looked at Holly Winslow. "Cousin, what kind of ice cream do you want? My treat."
"She’s not having any," Mortimer Quincy refused before Holly Winslow could.
Paul Powell clicked his tongue twice. "Tsk tsk," he said, lowering his voice. "Mortimer, that’s not cool. Yesterday you used the money you won from cards to buy your girlfriend an ice cream cone."
"I’m offering to treat your cousin, and you’re still like this. Cousin, your big bro is playing favorites!"
Pantheon and Zeke Zane: "..."
They couldn’t bear to watch.
He was outing the real girlfriend’s "secret" right in front of her.
The real girlfriend, Holly Winslow: "..."
She turned to look at Mortimer Quincy, pretending to be angry. "Cousin, why didn’t you buy one for me?"
Seeing her take the opportunity to try and get an ice cream cone, a glint of amusement flashed in Mortimer Quincy’s eyes. He raised an eyebrow. "I only had enough to buy one for your sister-in-law. Be good, I’ll buy you one some other time."
Holly Winslow: "..."
Everyone else: "..."
Pantheon and Zeke Zane were all smiles on the outside, but inwardly they were cursing up a storm.
Paul Powell waved his hand magnanimously. "Cousin, I’ll treat you. A strawberry cone, right?"
"Thanks, but I already had one," Holly Winslow said, waving her hand dismissively.
But Paul Powell had already waved for Chase Hawkins to go buy it.
Holly Winslow took the strawberry cone. As she peeled off the lid, she cautiously watched a certain Mr. Quincy’s reaction, but he didn’t make a move.
After a few seconds, once she was sure he wasn’t going to intercept it, she chuckled "heh heh" in a fawning tone. "Cousin, you’re the best."
Mortimer Quincy raised an eyebrow almost imperceptibly. He waited until she had torn off the paper wrapper from the top of the cone before reaching out, taking it, and starting to eat it himself.
"Cousin, you’re the best."
Holly Winslow: "..."
’Mortimer Quincy, you son of a...’
’Hmph!’
’You stole my ice cream cone.’
Mortimer Quincy slowly finished the cone, threw away the trash, and then looked at his gloomy, unhappy girlfriend. "Pouting won’t work. You’ve already had two ice cream cones today. You still want more?"
"Couldn’t you have let me have just one tiny bite?" Holly Winslow’s pout deepened.
In the next second, that rascal Mortimer Quincy’s words shut her down completely. "Then couldn’t you let me have just one little kiss?"
Holly Winslow: "..."
’What’s the connection?’
She decided to ignore Quincy Cone.
Quincy Cone thought for a moment, then switched into classical literature pop-quiz mode. "’Wood straight as a plumb line is bent to make a wheel...’ What’s the next line?"
Holly Winslow gave him a look that said, ’Do I look like I want to talk to you?’
"Ah, well. I guess we don’t need to buy milk tea then," Mortimer Quincy said with feigned disappointment.
As expected, Holly Winslow took the bait. She rattled off, "’Even when scorched dry, it will not straighten again, because the bending made it so.’"
"Milk tea!"
"We’ll buy it, we’ll buy it in a bit." Mortimer Quincy looked at the "elementary schooler" before him. His throat felt scratchy, his hands felt antsy, and his whole body felt even more restless.
It was the girls’ turn.
Mortimer Quincy and Pantheon were at the very back, with Holly Winslow positioned in front of Mortimer.
"If you can’t hold on, just let go," Mortimer Quincy whispered, leaning down to instruct Holly Winslow.
In the previous rounds, a few boys had been thrown to the ground by the momentum.
To keep things fair, the opposing team also had two boys on their side.
It was now break time for the first and second years, and many girls ran over to watch.
"Mortimer Quincy, go!!"
"Go, Mortimer Quincy!"
Holly Winslow wasn’t the least bit jealous, because Scholar Quincy was hers. She turned her head with a beaming smile. "Moira, go!"
Mortimer Quincy couldn’t help but laugh.
At the end of the line, Pantheon looked up at the sky and rolled his eyes dramatically.
’There’s no escaping the PDA.’
As soon as the tug-of-war started, the Rocket Class was violently pulled forward by Class 1. Holly Winslow stumbled, and was immediately pulled into an embrace. "Lean back."
Mortimer Quincy made sure Holly Winslow had regained her footing before he began to put his strength into it, the muscles on his arms bulging.
’All that time working out was good for something, after all.’
The Rocket Class girls recovered and pulled back with all their might. Soon, Class 1 was pulled across the line.
Holly Winslow happily threw herself at Mortimer Quincy. "Yay, we won!"
Mortimer Quincy quickly held her tight. "Mhm, we won. How about a kiss?" And with that, he swiftly kissed her on the cheek.
