My High School Nerd Rival - Chapter 21

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 21
The instructor only left after exchanging mutual follows on social media with Joy, and Tiffany spun around with a huff. Being thoroughly embarrassed in front of the Angels was more than enough to set her blood boiling.
“And who told you to treat people like pack mules?”
Joy spoke loudly from behind Tiffany’s back, as if to make a point.
“She’s really something, isn’t she?”
“I do hope she learned something from this.”
“Her? Fat chance. By now she’s probably trembling at the thought of how to get revenge on me somehow. Not that she’d actually have a way to do it, though.”
Joy smiled with absolute confidence.
Well, who would dare lay a finger on a young lady of the Carter Family?
The Carter Family was an esteemed house of old renown and the owner of a massive enterprise that held the kingdom’s economy in its grasp.
Even the royal household took care not to cross the Carter Family.
“Anyway, turn around. We need to fix your appearance first.”
“What’s wrong with how I look?”
“Are you even listening? You’re drenched in sweat.”
It couldn’t be helped. On a day when there was a school event, the class representative had mountains of work. She’d had to shuttle countless times between the Gymnasium, the Dance Studio, and the Equipment Storage throughout the day.
“At least tie your hair back properly. All I can see is hair falling in your face.”
“It’s not that bad…”
Before Ivy could finish her protest, Joy deftly gathered her hair and tied it back neatly.
It had been a long time since her hair hung loose from such a height, so Ivy moved her head side to side for a moment. It felt strange.
When she lived as Ivy Underwood, she’d always kept her hair long to hide her face as much as possible.
“Let me see.”
Joy stepped forward.
“Hm.”
She rested her chin on her hand and began to stare at Ivy’s face intently—very intently.
The memory surfaced that Joy had watched the New Year broadcast live, and goosebumps crawled up Ivy’s spine for no reason.
There was no way her identity would be exposed over something like this. Besides, she was wearing glasses now anyway.
‘She can’t recognize me, right?’
Feeling anxious, Ivy quickly handed Joy the basketball she was holding.
“I should go find Cyrus first. You understand?”
It seemed better to get away from this situation. Before Joy’s sharp eye caught onto something.
“Oh, sure.”
Joy nodded while cradling the basketball, and Ivy hurried out of the Gymnasium.
Left alone, Joy tilted her head and murmured to herself.
“No matter how many times I look, having her hair tied up is so much prettier. I don’t know why she insists on hiding her face all the time.”
* * *
Ivy went back to the Library just in case, but Cyrus wasn’t there either.
She systematically checked other possibilities.
The Dormitory, the Science Lab, the sports equipment storage, the Infirmary—she even went all the way to the Memorial Hall. (The mannequin still frightened her.)
Even after all that, he wasn’t found, and by this point Ivy was beginning to suspect that Cyrus Quinton had slipped out of school without anyone noticing.
Ivy returned to the Gymnasium empty-handed.
Lunchtime was approaching, so no students remained.
The empty Gymnasium, filled with the sound of Ivy’s sighs, contained two official courts and four hoops.
Electronic counters attached to the rims recorded how many times balls passed through.
Ivy checked the numbers written above each hoop.
Dormitory 3 was in second place. Not a bad score.
The problem was that they trailed first-place Dormitory 1 by forty-three points.
Ivy picked up a ball rolling across the floor and threw it at the Dormitory 3 hoop.
The heavy ball didn’t even touch the rim, simply bouncing off the floor.
She wanted to contribute even one more point.
“What can I do? I’m just not good at this.”
Still, Ivy didn’t give up. She retrieved the ball and tried again.
This time it definitely touched the rim. It just bounced far away after hitting the backboard.
“Ugh, seriously.”
Determination seized Ivy, and she went to get the ball again.
She stepped a little closer to the hoop and threw carefully.
This time, she was determined to make it.
Clink!
The ball struck the rim and fell through.
“Oh!”
Frustrated, Ivy quickly retrieved the ball.
If she threw just a bit harder than before, wouldn’t it go in?
She threw again.
Lifting her head, she tracked the beautiful arc the ball traced through the air.
This time it had to…
Thud!
The ball didn’t even reach the rim. It struck hard against the edge of the backboard.
And as Ivy stood with her head raised, watching, the ball’s shadow loomed large over her eyes.
“…!”
The ball fell directly toward her face.
Smack!
She tried to dodge, but the bouncing ball struck her forehead faster than she could move.
“Ow.”
Ivy covered her forehead with both hands and sat down heavily. For a moment, her mind went blank.
The ball that had hit her bounced a few more times on the floor before coming to rest.
‘Why can’t I do anything right?’
To be fair, basketball wasn’t the only thing going wrong today. She hadn’t even found Cyrus.
-You’re too close.
Then suddenly, a man’s voice came from empty air.
“…?”
Startled, Ivy lifted her head.
But no one was there.
Tilting her head in confusion, wondering if she’d misheared, the speaker mounted on the ceiling crackled with static, and a clearer voice came through.
-You can’t get the right angle of incidence from directly under the hoop. Unless you have the jumping power to attempt a Dunk Shot.
Ivy jumped to her feet. That voice—that dry, irritating tone. There was no mistaking it.
“Cyrus?!”
-Come to the front of the hoop.
His monotone voice flowed from the gymnasium speakers.
Ivy immediately looked up at the second floor, at the Broadcast Room covered with dark tinted glass.
“You were there the whole time?!”
Ivy shouted toward the Broadcast Room.
She wasn’t sure if he could hear her from this distance.
-Step on the Free Throw line. That’s the best position for field of view angle.
Could he not hear her?
All that came back was a one-directional instruction, like a remote lecture.
And yet, after hiding this whole time, where did he get off being so confident?
Ivy glared at the Broadcast Room with an exasperated expression.
-What are you doing? You’re not moving. Do you not want to make the shot?
At his demanding tone, Ivy at least went and stepped on the white line in front of the hoop.
She lifted her head pointedly, glaring at the second floor. Her eyes said, ‘Satisfied now?’
If the shot still didn’t go in after taking his advice, she planned to run straight up to the Broadcast Room and grab him by the collar.
-Here stands an idiot trying to make a basket without a ball.
“Seriously.”
Ivy quickly picked up the rolling ball—the very one that had hit her forehead moments ago.
As she raised her head, the hoop definitely came into better view than before.
-You’re only throwing with your arm, which is why you don’t have enough power. Use the rebound from your knees.
The moment Ivy lifted the ball, instructions—or rather, nagging—came flowing from the speaker.
-Don’t splay your elbows. Tuck them in. Angle the ball at forty-five degrees.
She took the stance he described, but something felt off.
“This… doesn’t feel right?”
-Just throw.
At his firm response, Ivy bent her knees and released the ball.
Thunk.
Did the ball go in dramatically after just one piece of advice from Cyrus?
Of course not.
The ball didn’t even reach the hoop.
Ivy whipped her head around to glare at the Broadcast Room. She could almost make out Cyrus’s silhouette through the dark glass.
-You have no coordination. Underwood.
The speaker delivered such an insulting remark that Ivy wanted to forget about basketball entirely and sprint up there to strangle him.
Right! She had no coordination! She’d cried through learning Ballroom Dancing, after all.
But what was he saying?
-Your timing between bending and extending your knees doesn’t match your throwing motion at all.
“Timing?”
-Because you throw after standing up, all the power from your lower body is lost. That’s why the ball never even gets close to the rim.
Now that he mentioned it, that seemed to be exactly what was happening. An annoyingly accurate observation.
-Again.
Ivy went to retrieve the ball without protest.
A voice tinged with exasperation came through the speaker.
-I’ll give you a signal. Match your rhythm to mine.
“Rhythm?”
-One: bend your knees. Two: throw. Connect them in one smooth motion without breaking the flow.
“Understood.”
As Ivy glanced briefly back at the Broadcast Room, more nagging came her way.
-Look at the hoop. Not here.
Ivy fixed her gaze on the hoop and took her stance.
After a moment of silence, his calm voice rang through the Gymnasium.
-Ready.
Ivy swallowed hard.
-One.
Following the deep voice, she bent her knees deeply.
-Two.
Then came the short, sharp signal.
Ivy transferred the rebound from her extended knees directly into her arms. Her body sprang up like a coiled spring, and the ball slipped smoothly from her fingertips.
It was a completely different sensation from before.
The moment the heavy ball felt as light as a feather in her hands.
The ball leaving her fingers traced a perfect parabolic arc, cutting through the air.
Swoosh.
The net shook. The sound echoed through every corner of the empty Gymnasium and returned to Ivy.
It was a Clean Shot.
The digital counter above the Dormitory 3 hoop ticked up by one. In that instant, as joy surged through her, Ivy grinned widely and looked up at the Broadcast Room.
Not that she could actually see Cyrus, but he had to be there.
-….
There was a brief rustling sound from the speaker.
What was he about to say?
-Ready again.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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