Reborn with My Genius Husband-Chapter 83: Now Getting Crushed in Grades, Too
Holly Winslow took a sip of the warm water. The sweet taste of honey filled her mouth. It was a light sweetness, just how she liked it.
She smacked her lips a few times, her pretty eyes curving into crescents. "Moira, where did you get the honey?" She passed the pink water bottle to him, motioning for him to drink too.
"Mr. Webb gave it to me." Mortimer Quincy took the bottle and drank a few mouthfuls straight from it, his movements practiced and natural.
’They don’t act like cousins at all,’ Paul Powell thought, sensing something was off even without knowing the truth. ’More like a couple who’s been married for years.’
Of course, he didn’t dare say this out loud.
He was afraid people would say he was sick in the head or had a dirty mind.
’After all, shipping a pair of cousins as a couple... I must be the only one with a mind this filthy.’
He gave an unnatural cough and walked away with his spicy gluten strips. "Chase Hawkins, want some?"
"Bring ’em over here," Chase Hawkins said, leaning against a desk in the aisle and waving him over.
Watching the couple in front of him, who were completely oblivious to the single guys in the back row, Pantheon felt a stampede of a thousand curses thunder through his mind. He then turned to his fellow sufferer, Zeke Zane, who looked half-dead. "Zeke, my dawg, wanna go to the bathroom?"
Hearing the word "dawg," Zeke Zane was speechless. "..."
But he soon nodded.
They would rather smell the stench of the bathroom than stay here and be force-fed the couple’s PDA.
No, it wasn’t just PDA. It was a downright massacre.
...
The downside of sitting by the window revealed itself the very next day.
On Wednesday, the second and third periods were English, where they would go over the exam papers.
Holly Winslow found it a little dry, but she was still well-behaved and paid attention.
Well-behaved she may have been, but her hands were anything but still.
Mortimer Quincy watched his wife’s hands. One moment she was picking at her pen, the next her eraser, and then she was fiddling with the drawstring on her hoodie. A doting smile flashed in his eyes.
He then reached out and took her hand. Meeting Holly Winslow’s wide, almond-shaped eyes, he raised an eyebrow and said in a voice only the two of them could hear, "You can play with your hubby’s hand all you want."
Holly Winslow: "..."
To her own dismay, she actually blushed.
In the row behind them, Pantheon was secretly playing games on his phone while pretending to listen to the lecture. Making him sit through two periods of English was practically torture.
Zeke Zane was partied up with him, along with Paul Powell and Chase Hawkins.
English was widely considered the most "boring" class by the science-track students.
From time to time, Pantheon’s and Zeke Zane’s hushed voices could be heard. "Southeast, to the north..."
Holly Winslow glanced back, unable to help feeling a little "jealous." ’Are these top students’ brains just built differently from mine?’
She quickly turned back around. Out of the corner of her eye, she happened to glance toward the window and saw Gabe Chaucer staring at Pantheon with a stern expression.
She jumped in fright and guiltily pulled her hand back. Mortimer Quincy sensed the movement and looked over. He calmly withdrew his own hand and placed it on his desk.
Gabe Chaucer was completely oblivious to the two of them. His gaze remained fixed on Pantheon, who was engrossed in his game, as if waiting for him to notice his death stare.
Holly Winslow stealthily reached out her right hand and tapped the desk behind her along the wall, trying to warn Zeke Zane.
Hearing the tap, Zeke Zane instinctively looked at Holly Winslow. He saw her hand by the wall subtly pointing toward the window.
He glanced at the window out of the corner of his eye and jolted. He quietly propped his phone up against the wall and covered it with his English exam paper.
Because it was a blind spot, and Gabe Chaucer’s attention was focused on Pantheon, the teacher didn’t notice he was playing on his phone too.
He then jabbed Pantheon, who was still absorbed in his game, with his elbow. When Pantheon looked up, he mouthed one word: "Window."
Pantheon glanced at the window and met Gabe Chaucer’s stern gaze. His hand trembled, and he hastily shoved his phone into his desk drawer.
His mind went blank.
After class, once the English teacher had left, Gabe Chaucer walked in. He stood at the podium with a dark face. "Pantheon, bring your phone up here."
Pantheon: "..."
Resigned to his fate, he pulled out his phone and walked up.
Gabe Chaucer scolded him harshly. "Look at your English grades! And you’re still playing games in class? Do you want to graduate and go do manual labor for a living?"
Pantheon rubbed his nose and stood there, taking the criticism.
After a few minutes of scolding, Gabe Chaucer let him go back to his seat, adding one last parting shot, "If your score on this monthly exam is lower than your last final, I’m calling your dad to the school."
Pantheon: "..."
Holly Winslow offered him a carton of milk. "Here, have this."
’Thanks for taking the bullet for me.’ If Pantheon hadn’t been playing on his phone, she and Mortimer Quincy would have probably been exposed.
Pantheon felt a little comforted and looked very touched. "Cousin, you’re the best."
If he knew what Holly Winslow was really thinking, he probably would have wanted to jump off a building on the spot.
Holly Winslow guiltily rubbed her nose. "Don’t mention it."
There’s not much room for sympathy in high school. With his phone confiscated, Pantheon became the butt of the other boys’ jokes.
Paul Powell ran over, roaring with laughter. "HA HA! Forrest, you happy now? Hahaha."
Pantheon said gloomily, "Get lost, get lost. I’m in a foul mood."
"Hey, don’t be like that. I have another phone you can borrow. Old Shaw will give yours back on the weekend anyway."
Paul Powell pulled a white phone from his pocket and said magnanimously, "It has a SIM card."
Pantheon didn’t stand on ceremony with him and took it right away. "I’ll treat you to lunch."
Paul Powell didn’t stand on ceremony either. "Deal. I want braised pork belly."
「Thursday afternoon」
The results were out. The exam papers for each subject were handed back, and the class rankings were posted on the wall.
A crowd had gathered to see the rankings, so Holly Winslow didn’t push her way through. After calculating her own score, her face bloomed into a huge smile.
She leaned close to Mortimer Quincy. "Hubby, what did you score?"
Mortimer Quincy showed her his Chinese language exam paper: 147 points.
That meant he had only lost three points.
Holly Winslow: "..."
’Anyway, this guy Mortimer is a monster among students.’ She felt a little crushed, but she recovered quickly.
She giggled. "Hubby, guess what I scored. There’s a reward if you get it right."
Hearing the word "reward," Mortimer Quincy’s interest was piqued. He raised an eyebrow. "What kind of reward? A kiss?"
Holly Winslow was sure he’d never guess, so she nodded readily. "Go on, guess!"
Just then, a boy in the class suddenly yelled, "Oh my god, the cousin scored 721!"
Holly Winslow: "..."
Mortimer Quincy chuckled and said shamelessly, "My guess is my wife scored 721."
"How about it? Did I guess right?"
Holly Winslow: "..."
She pouted and then decided to be a sore loser. "You cheated. That doesn’t count."
Mortimer Quincy was first, and Zeke Zane was still second. Pantheon, the perennial third-placer, had been knocked down by a "dark horse."
Holly Winslow.
And Zeke Zane’s score was only one point higher than Holly’s.
Zeke Zane: "..."
Though he was still number two, he felt his position was becoming precarious.
Pantheon: "..."
Even though his score was ten points higher than last time, his rank had dropped to fourth.
Both boys fell silent.
Not only were they getting crushed in the romance department, but now they were getting crushed in academics too.
’There’s no justice in this world!’
Mortimer Quincy checked Holly Winslow’s math paper. After a minute or two, his expression grew a little serious. "You’ve done similar problems to these before. You shouldn’t have gotten them wrong. Copy the formulas a hundred times later."
The corners of Holly Winslow’s upturned mouth immediately fell. ’There are always a few days a month when I just don’t want a husband anymore.’
Seeing her pouting unhappily, Mortimer Quincy was about to comfort her when his phone vibrated. He answered the call and walked out.
A few minutes later, a shadow fell over her. A cup of milk tea was placed on her desk, and a magnetic voice said softly, audible only to the two of them, "Nice job on the exam, wifey."
