Page 9 of His Pretty Little Lies
“You’re sleeping with a teacher,” I deadpan, but then it hits me: What if I’m freaking right? That thought immediately sours my mood. Is that why I’ve never heard of him dating anyone? Jax stops in front of the media room. The door is still closed and locked.
“Not today.” His comment is a joke, I think, but it hits me fucking sideways. “Bunny, I’m not banging a teacher.” He shakes his head, and I swear he has a disappointed expression that I would think that about him.
“Sorry, I was being a smartass.” I shouldn't judge him. I don’t really know him enough to do so.
“As long as you know it’s not true. That’s all that matters.” The door clicks open.
“The hell?” Jax pushes it fully open.
“Hop inside, Bunny.” He motions with his hand for me to enter.
“Did you pick the lock?”
“Are you going to write about it?” I shake my head no. “Then yeah, I picked it.” Of course he did. It’s a reminder of who he is, but still, it’s really badass. I go in, curious what Jax has up his sleeve next.
He shuts the door behind us, clicking the lock back, leaving us utterly alone. Oh, fuck me. “Not smart, Bunny.”
“Jax?” I take a step back. I have this rush of fear, but it’s laced with excitement. What is wrong with me? My parents might be right about me needing to speak to a therapist.
“Please tell me you don’t just go into random rooms with random men you don’t fully know.”
“I have known you for three years,” I respond defensively. “And this isn’t a random room. It’s the media room.”
“Be more careful.” He grabs a chair, dropping down into it. “Finish your sandwich.” I don’t know what to make of Jax at this moment. So I do the only thing I can do: I get myself together and take a giant bite of sandwich. “I got what you asked for.” He leans forward to grab the papers out of his back pocket.
I take the papers from him. “Thought you’d want a physical copy. That’s more your style.”
“No one has ever said I had style,” I joke. “Oh crap,” I mutter when I get peanut butter on the paper. Jax fights a smirk. “I know I’m a mess.”
“Never change, Bunny. Never change.” He kicks his feet up on the chair across from him as I read the papers. It’s both Alice’s and Celia’s schedules, the combination to their lockers, and so much more. This is almost too much to process. It’s also a stark reminder of how much power the Marinos have.
“This is not the login to their student emails!” Again, badass but also scary.
“If you have morals that will make you feel guilty about logging into their shit and digging around, I can do it.” He pulls out his phone.
“Oh my God, Jax.” I burst into laughter. How did I get here? “I have morals, just not about people’s emails. They should maybe get notebooks if they’re worried about people reading them.”
“That’s the spirit.” He winks at me. It has everything inside of me freezing, and I’m not fully sure why. It’s a weird mix of emotions. “Are you okay?” I nod. “I’m freaking you out, aren’t I?” I lie by shaking my head no. “Then, giving you the key isn’t too much?” He holds his hand out, a key in the palm.
“You didn’t pick it?”
“I did. When I came looking for you the first time in here. Found the key in the desk.”
“Kinda like they just gave it to you.” I wrap my hand around the key.
"You're the journalist. If that's how you want to report it."
"You're funnier than I thought you'd be." It’s a pleasant surprise. I’m really not sure how I expected him to be.
"If I am, it definitely comes from my mom. Next time you see her around, you should tell her I said that."
“I didn’t expect you to be funny.” I’ve seen his mom Cosima around. She’s hard to miss with how stunning she is, and she’s usually the loudest at the games. It’s sweet.
How does the crime family show up for their kids, but my Ivy League doctor parents can barely manage to check in? The world is weird.
I glance over the schedules. They're nice to have on hand. It affords me the opportunity to put myself in the right place at the right time if need be.
“What do you know about the new media teacher?” I ask.
