Reborn with My Genius Husband-Chapter 157: The Whole Senior Year Knows They Went to the Movies
Holly, having been called out: "..."
"Jade, don’t talk nonsense."
Valerie Walsh said to Holly with a smile, "Don’t listen to Jade, she just likes to joke. Hurry up and wash; it’s almost lights out."
"I have a question for you later."
Holly nodded. After washing up, she helped Valerie Walsh with her question, which was from their English homework.
Valerie Walsh looked sweet and innocent, but she was a very good student and quite smart. She usually understood the material after a single explanation.
In truth, there were no weak students in the rocket class; every one of them was capable of getting into a top-tier university.
The next day, after second period and the flag-raising ceremony, the Dean of Students, who was giving the speech, dismissed the 10th and 11th graders, keeping the 12th graders behind for the usual words of encouragement.
The Dean of Students held the microphone and said, "This is the last month of the semester. I hope you will all continue to work hard and sprint toward a good result on your finals."
...
"I’ve heard many students saying they can’t stand being a senior, that they can’t go on. This makes me both relieved and worried. Some of you might be wondering, ’What is Mr. Hollis relieved about?’ It’s because you’ve worked hard that you feel tired, that you feel you can’t keep going."
"What about the students who don’t study? Have you ever heard them complain? They’re probably more relaxed than the 10th and 11th graders. They copy their homework, don’t pay attention in class, and go to lunch early. They’re living the high life."
The 12th graders all laughed.
The Dean of Students continued, "The review workload for seniors is heavy. It’s normal to be tired. You have to learn how to manage it yourselves."
"This week, I took my child to see a movie and ran into Mortimer Quincy and Holly Winslow at the theater. I was a bit curious at the time. ’Their grades are so good,’ I thought. ’Shouldn’t they be at home studying?’"
"I asked them, ’You two are here to see a movie?’ Mortimer said they were just relaxing a bit."
"You all know how good Mortimer and Holly’s grades are, right? Excellent. Even they feel the pressure, so how could you not?"
"When you’re tired of studying, allow yourself to relax a little. Don’t be too high-strung. If you’re wound too tight, it becomes counterproductive."
Down in the crowd, Holly: "..."
’Great,’ she thought. ’Now the entire 12th grade knows I went to the movies.’
Zeke Zane, Pantheon, and Chase Hawkins all looked over at the nonchalantly standing Mortimer Quincy. There was only one thing to say: ’Holy shit.’
’Relaxing?’
’What a load of crap!’
’It was obviously a date!’
Gabe Chaucer, from the front row, asked Holly with a wide smile, "What movie did you see?"
Holly: "..."
She touched her nose awkwardly. "*Crouching Dragon*."
*Crouching Dragon* was a spy film about a man and a woman—ahem, with a heavy focus on the romance.
"I hear that one’s pretty popular right now."
Gabe Chaucer seemed completely oblivious that anything was amiss.
Feeling guilty, Holly nodded.
Once the crowd dispersed and the group started walking back to class, Paul Powell, with his arm slung around Pantheon, said to Mortimer, "Mortimer, that’s not cool. How could you go to the movies and not invite us?"
Mortimer, shielding Holly from the jostling crowd, shot him a cool glance. "Invite you? To be a third wheel?"
Zeke Zane, Chase Hawkins, and Pantheon: "..."
’If they still couldn’t figure it out after that,’ they thought, ’they might as well give up on college and go haul bricks for a living.’
Paul Powell felt wronged. How was he supposed to guess that his two "cousins" were in an illicit relationship?
’Who would even think of that?’
He assumed the comment was perfectly normal. "Hey, it’s all the same. You and your cousin watch, and we’ll just watch from the back row. Right, cousin?"
Holly: "..."
’It’s not the same.’
’We were on a date.’
Pantheon rolled his eyes dramatically and couldn’t resist snapping at Paul Powell. "And what would you be doing in the back? Lighting up the world? Or just showing off your own good looks?"
Paul Powell: "..."
"I’d be lighting up *your* ugly mug, that’s what."
They were hilarious. Holly couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Beside her, a jealous Mortimer pinched her cheek. "I’m right here, and you’re busy watching other single dogs. Are you asking for..."
"A-kissing?"
He only mouthed the last word.
Holly’s laughter died in her throat. "..."
’What the hell was that supposed to mean?’
She stepped on his instep, then scampered off like a startled kitten.
Mortimer glanced down at the brand-new white sneakers he’d worn for the first time today. There was now a faint half-footprint on one of them. He chuckled softly, then used his right foot to scuff his left, smudging the mark.
Pantheon and the others watched his bizarre behavior, utterly confused: "..."
By the time Mortimer and the guys got back to the classroom, Holly had already filled both of their water bottles.
The moment that rascal Mortimer sat down, he pointed at his shoe. "Holly, you got my shoe dirty. What are you going to do about it? Buy me a new pair?"
A pair of his shoes cost at least five or six hundred yuan, which was almost half of her monthly allowance. Holly tilted her head and said cheekily, "My foot has a mind of its own. I can’t control it."
’My wife’s getting smarter,’ Mortimer thought, amused that she was using his own excuses against him. He raised an eyebrow. "If you won’t pay me back, then you can pay me back with your company. I’ll reluctantly charge you one yuan a time."
"This pair of shoes was 799 yuan. Seeing as we’re married, I’ll drop the change. Let’s call it 790 times."
Holly: "..."
She pointed at his face. "Let me see just how thick your skin is."
’To be this shameless...’
Mortimer’s brow quirked up. He leaned in closer, his lips parting. "How can you tell just by looking?"
He paused, then added, "Go on, touch it."
Holly: "..."
...
Anna Willow posted a screenshot of her chat with Zeke Zane in the group chat, even adding a final comment praising him: *This Zeke Zane guy really gets me.*
Holly glanced at the conversation. It was basically Anna Willow calling the person who reported her a "dumbass," and Zeke Zane chiming in, "Yeah, a total dumbass."
She couldn’t help but let out a little cough. "..."
’I guess all top students are equally shameless,’ she thought.
She wrestled for a moment with whether or not to tell her the truth, but in the end, decided against it.
’If I tell her, Anna will kill Zeke.’
She typed back a reply: *Anna, how did you and Zeke Zane get in touch?*
Anna Willow replied quickly: *He messaged me, so I just replied. Hey, as long as he doesn’t talk about math, we can still be gaming buddies.*
Holly: "..."
She put her phone away and poked Zeke Zane with her pen.
Beside her, Mortimer shot her a sidelong glance.
Holly: "..."
Zeke Zane turned around, glancing first at her and then at Mortimer. "What’s up, cousin?"
Holly gave him a simple reminder, "When you’re chatting with her, don’t bring up math."
Zeke was stunned for a few seconds before he quickly caught on. "..."
"Thanks, cousin."
He turned back around.
Mortimer tapped Holly’s desk with his pen. "Instead of worrying about other people’s business," he said ominously, "you should be worrying about your own grades. If you don’t get second place on the final exams, you can forget about new clothes and New Year’s money. Oh, and you’ll be copying the test for every subject twenty times."
Holly: "..."
’Maybe I should take a page out of Anna’s book and just ignore him,’ she wondered.
Before she could say anything, Mortimer saw right through her. "Stop those shifty eyes. If you want to fight, just say it."
’The sorrows of a married woman,’ Holly lamented to herself once more. "..."
She lifted her chin defiantly. "That’s right. I want to fight."
Mortimer had long since developed a foolproof method for dealing with his occasionally temperamental wife. He raised an eyebrow. "No more milk tea? No more pork ribs?"
Holly had been trying to figure out how to "fight" with him, but at his words, all the air went out of her sails. ’When you’ve been married this long, it’s hard to even pick a proper fight.’
She held out her hand. "So, where’s the milk tea?"
Mortimer’s eyes crinkled with amusement. "It’ll appear as soon as you finish this practice test."
"And a double-skin milk pudding, Hubby." Holly giggled, trying to sweet-talk him, all her previous fighting spirit gone.
Mortimer couldn’t resist pinching her cheek. "I can even throw in a ’Hubby Mortimer’ for you, no problem," he said dotingly.
