Page 6 of His Pretty Little Lies
Jax heads toward the back of the room, too, and toward me. I think he’s going to take the lab table next to ours since both seats there are empty, but he doesn't. He keeps drawing closer.
I glance up at him, expecting him and Nick to have some kind of conversation because he's not stopping to talk to me. Instead, Nick simply stands, goes to the empty table, and sits in that chair, where Damon joins him. Then Jax drops into the seat Nick vacated. What the heck?
"Morning," he says to me, polite but short. That is his norm. What isn't normal is him taking this seat when he could be sitting with his brother. I mean, sure, he's still next to him on the other side, but it's a different table, and we might end up partnered for a project.
"Hi," I respond. "You good?" Not sure why I ask the question. I mean, I know it's because this is strange, but asking Jax a question will only get me a useless response. So the question is pointless. I might as well have kept my mouth shut. He's going to think I'm in his fan club and want to get into his pants.
“Oh, I’m good, Bunny.” Jax gives me a half smile, revealing his perfectly straight teeth. I can feel that damn smile all the way down to my toes. Wait, what did he call me?
“Bunny?” I question, trying not to get distracted by that smile or the dimple in his right cheek. “Oh,” I say before he can respond because I’m a dumbass. “The pen.” There is a littlebunny on the tip of my pen. I love pens; I have hundreds of them, and I found this one a couple of days ago. I don’t know where it came from, but it’s mine now.
“Sure.” That half smile turns into a full-on one.
I don’t have a freaking clue how to respond to that one, but thankfully, I don’t have to. Mr. Korn enters the room, calling out for our attention. Except he doesn’t get it, at least not from Jax, because out of the corner of my eye, I can see his attention is fully on me.
The question is why.
Chapter Five
JAX
Football may primarily serve to keep me occupied and my mom happy, but it does come with a few benefits. One is having a lot of minions, i.e., Nick was here holding this seat. I knew where Kinsley was going to sit, so I had Nick claim the table. I’m done watching from afar.
I could have done it myself, but then Kinsley might have picked another seat. I didn’t want to chance it. People tend to give Damon and me a wide berth. We don’t try to be dicks. Being an asshole for no reason gets you nowhere. You should save it for when you need to be, but our last name keeps people at bay—some, but not all.
I’m sure it’s more parents telling their kids to stay away from us and telling them stories. Kinsley's parents are very prestigious doctors in the city, and they, without a doubt, would tell her that if she mentioned the Marino name to them.
Nick was more than pleased to do it. Now I'll toss him a few more passes. That's how the world works when you hold some form of power and the people around you are aware of it. You give people a little, and they are more than willing to give a whole lot more back. With Nick, my power is making him look good on the field.
I shouldn't stare at Kinsley. She has already shifted in her chair twice, making her skirt rise up. As much as I love the view of more of her legs, it's a fight not to reach over and pull her skirt back down so no one else can see them. Lucky me, we're tucked back in a corner.
Kinsley tilts her head in the other direction, making one of her chestnut braids fall off her shoulder, the end brushing the table. I have the urge to wrap my hand around it and give a small tug to pull her attention back to me, but I won't. I keep myself in check, but it's wavering. It has been for months now. It doesn't help that with every breath I take, her sweet scent of strawberries and vanilla fills my lungs. I take in a few extra deep breaths, willing to draw in the smell. Savoring each moment that I get to be this close to her.
There are so many things I want to ask her. Even though I know almost everything about her. I am a Marino, after all, and we have our ways of getting information. Still, it’s not the same as the answers coming straight from her mouth. I’ve dreamt of her wanting to tell me each and every detail of her life. Of being the person she tells her dreams, secrets, and desires.
My thoughts are over the top and obsessive. I don’t fight them. It’s pointless. Why have an inner battle with myself? Only a dumbfuck gets into a fight knowing they are going to lose.
I lean back in my chair, getting comfortable. I try not to puff out my chest when I keep seeing Kinsley peek over at me from the corner of her eye. Mr. Korn drones on about the syllabus and what we will be learning this year. I know Kinsley hates science, but I don’t, and all this is a refresher. I only took this class because of Kinsley, but this will be an easy grade for me.
The human body and its functions are an area Uncle Ronan taught us about years ago. In my favorite style—hands-on. That's the thing; when you know how the body works, you can use that knowledge for all kinds of things.
Throughout history, one could observe the various methods people have used to torture others. As we grow in society and learn, we bear witness to this. There is a shift from brutal and bloody physical forms of torture using unconventional tools to alternative physical and psychological techniques.
Instead of tying a person to a chair, simply tie the wrists above behind the head and let the body hang at an awkward angle. It will cause agonizing dislocation of the shoulders.
You also have the kidneys. The kidneys are supplied by the renal plexus, which includes both sensory and efferent motor nerves. Hit those dense nerves hard enough through the muscles in the back, and widespread pain beyond the kidney itself will bring a full-grown man to his knees.
“Your partner for the semester is whomever you chose to sit next to. Hope you chose wisely,” Mr. Korn tells the room.
This time, Kinsley doesn’t hide it when she glances my way. “Are you sure you don’t want to be paired with your brother?” she whispers to me. Is she trying to get rid of me? Does she want to be paired with Nick? I fight down the stab of jealousy. Kinsley might not need biology at all. Her torture of me is on par.
“He’s a dumbass.” I speak loud enough for Damon to hear.
“Fuck off,” Damon mutters back. “Just pissed I got the looks.” Kinsley snickers. “See, your girl agrees.”
Kinsley’s eyes widen, her head giving a slight shake of no. “I’m not?—”
I cut her off because I don’t want to hear her say she’s not my girl. We’ll get there.
