Page 32 of His Pretty Little Lies
I'm not sure if this is his norm with me now or if he's worried about whoever killed the girl. The thing is, I'm starting to wonder if I saw it. It almost feels like a dream when I think back to the moment, but I know it's real because Jax saw it too.
He has no choice but to go to practice after school, and I do my normal routine and go to the media room to work on homecoming news. Homecoming is always a big deal at Golden Prep.
Of course, Jax's name is on the list. I bet he would have been on it every year if not for the rule that it’s seniors only. My eyes scan over the girls names, and Alice and Celia are both there. I still need to figure out what the deal is.
What would happen if I left Jax’s name off? It’s such a stupid thought, but I have it. Jealousy over a man is so new to me. If I’m feeling it this quickly, there is a likelihood of my heart being broken.
“Are you going to homecoming?” Blair asks, rolling her chair over next to mine, fiddling with the heart on the choker around her neck.
“I’ll be at the game for sure.” That’s when the homecoming king and queen will be announced. The dance is always the next day.
“But not the dance?” She props her elbow up on the table, clearly bored. I want to ask what’s up with her, but for all I know, she’s avoiding going home. I can understand, and I wouldn’t want people asking me about it either.
“I’m not really a school dance kind of girl.” I have never thought about going to one of the dances. I’ll have one of the other media classmates cover it. I can’t and don’t want to go toeverything. Especially events that require that much socializing. I’m sure it’s great if you’re into that sort of thing.
“So you’ll let your man go by himself. I mean, he’s going to be king.”
“I suppose I haven’t gotten that far.”
“You’re the head of the media department. Don’t you think you should go to the homecoming dance?” Mr. McIntyre asks from behind his desk. The man hasn’t said much.
“I can’t go to every event,” I point out.
“Don’t think it’s hard to go to a dance, but all right.” He gives an annoyed shrug of his shoulder.
“Have you gotten a chance to look over the pieces I have picked for other classmates to cover?” I ask my own question. I get free rein, or I did, but I got an email from Mr. McIntyre asking what was going to be covered next week.
This week was all fluff and welcoming everyone back to school. Along with a few pieces on the football team. That’s nothing new; articles are always on the football team. People are obsessed with it.
“Yes, I have a few issues, and I’ll respond to them when I get the chance,” Mr. McIntyre informs me.
“Yeah, you seem real busy,” Blair mutters. In fairness, I haven’t seen him do anything, but it’s only been a few days. He might be getting his footing. I also wasn’t upset about it because our last teacher kind of let me lead things. It was part of my responsibilities.
“Excuse me, Miss Blair.”
“Miss? What year is it?” This time, Blair rolls her eyes. She’s not wrong. Also, Mr. McIntyre here isn’t that old himself. I’d guess him to be in his late twenties. I need to dig into him still. Far too much has been going on, and Jax is rather distracting. I freaking shared a bed with him last night!
This isn’t an easy school to land a teaching position. You either have to have years under your belt or be connected to someone. This school costs more than most colleges out there.
“Smart mouths don’t get you class credit,” Mr. McIntyre tells her.
“Is that a threat?” Blair asks with a smirk. I think she wants it to be a threat.
“Is what a fucking threat?” Jax asks, entering the classroom. I glance up at the clock over the door. Practice must have wrapped earlier than usual. Actually, scratch that. I can’t see Coach Kaufman cutting any practice early. Jax's eyes glance around the room like he's casing the place. I can tell he’s on edge, not knowing what he’s walked into.
“My smart mouth.” Blair taps her lips with her finger. “This mouth has gotten me far in life.” I snort a laugh before I can stop myself.
“Is there something I can help you with, Jax?” Mr. McIntyre asks him.
“No,” Jax says dismissively, making his way toward me. “Is there a problem?” he asks me.
“Practice out early?”
“I missed you.” Jax leans down, putting one of his hands on each of my wrists. “And I wanted a kiss.”
“Jax.” I can feel my face start to heat. “The teacher.” I whisper the second part. I don’t know. It’s weird to kiss in front of teachers and parents. I don’t think Jax gives a shit or has even thought about it.
“What?” I turn back to face the teacher. “Is there a problem?” Jax asks.
