In Every Life [Jenlisa]

Chapter 10

The gentle morning light shone through the window, while the sound of clanging instruments echoed in the laboratory.

A classmate handed over an experiment record sheet to Jennie, who lowered her head and copied it exactly as the book instructed.

When she reached the column for the required material's quantity, she turned her head to glance at Lisa and asked, "Did you calculate it correctly?"

Lisa nodded.

"How much?" Jennie asked, but the words seemed to get stuck in her throat. Lisa's lips moved silently, and she couldn't hear him clearly.

The laboratory lights poured down like flowing water, and in an instant, they reflected in her eyes.

Lisa's finger twitched, and he raised his gaze to meet her clear and pure eyes.

His heart couldn't help but race as he suddenly remembered the girl from his first year of high school, who had looked at him with the same clear eyes while they worked at the noodle shop.

In that moment, she quietly walked into his heart.

Lisa felt his heart suddenly calm down, and a thought quietly sprouted in the dark corner of his heart - maybe she wouldn't laugh at him.

That sudden thought was like a small seed, taking root and sprouting in his heart.

Lisa clenched his fist and kept encouraging himself.

She was different from everyone else.

In the noisy laboratory, Jennie blinked and asked softly again, "Lisa, what's the data?"

The girl's tone was gentle, like warm water, inexplicably smoothing out the hidden anxiety in Lisa's heart.

He collected himself and replied, "55.85."

"55.85 grams?" Jennie was a bit confused. How could it be so much?

But she chose to trust Lisa and confidently wrote down 55.85g.

"No no no," Lisa stopped her repeatedly.

"What is it then?" Jennie stopped writing and looked up in confusion.

Lisa furrowed his brows, "It's five, five point eight five."

Isn't that the same thing? Jennie looked at the data she wrote on the test sheet, 55.85, it was correct.

Lisa became increasingly anxious and couldn't speak.

He actually meant 5.85, but due to his stuttering, he always said 55.85.

But the more anxious he became, the harder it was for him to speak.

He knew that his stuttering was mostly due to psychological factors. Whenever he was nervous or anxious, it became even more difficult for him to speak.

The chilly autumn of November brought a layer of sweat to Lisa's forehead.

Jennie looked at his anxious expression and said softly, "Don't worry, take your time to explain. It's okay, or maybe you can write it down."

Her eyes were gentle and calm, and her voice was as gentle as a spring breeze, neither hurried nor impatient.

For a moment, Lisa's tense nerves relaxed, and his restless mind calmed down slightly.

After a moment, he looked up and said, "It's 5.85."

This time, he didn't stutter.

Jennie smiled and nodded, then rewrote the number on the record sheet.