My High School Nerd Rival - Chapter 39

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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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Episode 39
“What’s wrong, class president?”
Tiffany tilted her head. It seemed odd to her that Ibby was unusually quiet.
“Is it because of this?”
Had she noticed where Ibby’s gaze had been fixed?
Tiffany touched the Headband with her fingertips, turning it over.
“Someone gave it to me as a gift. Don’t you think it looks really good on me?”
It wasn’t one of those brand-new items Tiffany usually preferred.
Who had bothered to give her such a thing? And why was she speaking of it as though she were showing it off?
“Well, if the class president’s displeased, I suppose we can’t have fun here. Come on, everyone.”
Tiffany flashed a bright smile at Ibby, then led the Angels down the corridor and out of sight.
The scattered belongings on the floor remained where they lay.
Even after Tiffany vanished, Ibby stood rooted in place.
From somewhere behind her came the sound of a girl, now alone, gathering up the spilled things.
She should have helped. Immediately.
Yet her feet wouldn’t move, as though bound in place. Ibby’s mind was still circling with terrible possibilities.
Could it be that…?
‘No, it couldn’t be.’
It had to be coincidence.
Probably the Headband had trended on social media after she’d used it for New Year greetings. She’d had that happen a few times before.
Ibby forced back the creeping unease—that phantom sensation of a hand reaching toward her from behind—and knelt beside the girl.
“Are you alright?”
The girl couldn’t lift her head. Ibby picked up her pencil case and slipped it into her bag.
Just as the girl left without a word, a message from Owen arrived.
[Surgery is scheduled.]
As expected, he was precise as always.
* * *
The moment Chloe heard about the surgery, she went straight to her teacher for permission to leave.
Since it was Saturday, there were no classes, so the permission came through quickly.
“Ibby, I’m sorry about the Debate Competition—”
Even as she rushed to prepare for the Hospital, Chloe’s thoughts turned to the Debate Competition scheduled for Monday.
“Don’t worry about it. We’ve already done all the prep work, anyway. Your speech is flawless. So stop fretting and just go. Understood?”
“Ibby.”
Chloe pulled Ibby into a tight embrace.
Was it fear? The body pressed against hers trembled finely.
“It’ll be okay.”
Ibby tightened her own arms in return.
To lessen the trembling, even by a fraction. To let warmth pass between them.
“It’s going to work out.”
And she whispered in a voice like a prayer.
“It definitely will. I’ll be waiting, so contact me anytime, no matter what news comes. Promise?”
Chloe’s message arrived quite late that night.
[The surgery went well.]
Thank goodness.
Ibby, who’d been unable to sleep while waiting for word, finally allowed herself rest once she saw that message.
* * *
“Is that true?”
Ibby, who’d been in deep sleep, felt her body being shaken and opened her eyes. Through the dimness, Chloe’s face came into focus.
Chloe? When did she arrive? Ibby tried to ask, but her lips wouldn’t move.
Chloe’s gaze was different from usual.
A sharp, cutting look in her eyes. As though they’d reverted to how things were before they’d grown close. Or perhaps even worse than that.
“Are you really Princess Evelyn?”
“…!”
Ibby tried to sit up, but Chloe’s hand pressed down on her shoulder, pinning her back to the bed.
Chloe’s face drew closer and closer until their vision held nothing but each other.
“Did you find it fun?”
That’s not… not what this is.
She had to answer quickly, but her mouth wouldn’t obey.
“Of course you found it fun. Disguising your identity, sneaking into school, pretending to be close, pretending to care—all while prying into your family’s secrets. Quite the impressive reach for a princess.”
With effort, she shook her head. Tears blurred her vision for a moment.
In that instant, Chloe’s face shifted—becoming Cyrus.
Yet the look in his eyes toward her remained unchanged.
“So it was all lies and performance.”
His quiet words carried not accusation but verdict.
A faint tremor leaked from between her pressed lips. Now she didn’t even dare shake her head.
Every moment of Ibby’s school life had been a lie.
But that was…
“Couldn’t I have had no choice?”
A voice suddenly rang out, and Ibby’s eyes flew wide. It was neither Chloe nor Cyrus.
A young boy’s face appeared before her. Someone from memory long buried.
Her uncle’s son—the one who’d tried to poison her father. Her cousin, her equal in age.
He’d been nearly the only friend she’d had in childhood.
Fabian Montrose.
“Is that your excuse again?”
No, Fabian, I…
Unable to answer, Ibby watched as he smiled, a meaning in his expression she couldn’t quite grasp.
“You must have thought the same when you betrayed me and cast me aside. Isn’t that so?”
“No!”
Ibby screamed and thrashed against the hands holding her down, finally breaking free and jerking her body upright.
“Never like that—!”
Her cry burst out, raw and sudden, shattering the quiet night.
Breathing hard, Ibby slowly looked around her.
There was no one.
Chloe’s bed sat empty as always. Neither Cyrus nor Fabian was there.
Though the realization was obvious, her lungs—which had seized tight—finally drew a proper breath.
“…A dream.”
It had been a dream.
Yet that knowledge brought Ibby no comfort.
It hadn’t been merely a dream—it had been something close to a Prophetic Dream.
Perhaps it would come to pass in the near future. The inevitable price of deception.
“…I know. But I can’t stop.”
Ibby buried her face between her knees.
Fabian’s words echoed in her ears as though he stood there still.

She had no answer but “yes”—and couldn’t speak it.
* * *
Monday. The day of the Debate Competition.
Chloe had not yet returned to school.
Though the surgery had concluded successfully, her mother’s consciousness had not yet returned.
Ibby feared that something worse might transpire, but she decided to focus instead on what needed to be done here.
On the path toward the Auditorium where the Competition would be held,
a chartered bus stood waiting, and she could see students from Berk High School—today’s opponents—disembarking.
It was a prestigious school with which Royal High School maintained a regular exchange. In other words, a rival.
What Ibby had to do before this crucial match was clear.
Forfeit.
They couldn’t uphold the basic rule of two-person teams, so it was only right.
Yet truthfully, that wasn’t the real reason.
[Are benevolent lies morally justified?]
For Ibby Underwood to speak on that topic would be pure deception.
Everything Cyrus had said in last night’s dream was accurate.
Even arguing in favor would be difficult. How much more so, then, when Ibby’s assigned position was opposition?
Ibby passed through the corridor, opened the Waiting Room door, and found the senior competitors doing final run-throughs, while teachers bustled about checking schedules and managing the event.
Ibby approached Bennett cautiously.
“Oh, Underwood.”
“Hello, Bennett.”
“I heard about Carter. Goodness, he got food poisoning while out, didn’t he? How did such a careful boy manage that?”
That was the lie Ibby had fabricated to cover for Carter’s delayed return.
She couldn’t say it was his mother’s surgery.
“Ah, yes! So…”
The freshman team would need to forfeit, it seemed.
That’s what Ibby meant to say.
She really did mean to.
Tap.
If only no one had gripped her shoulder.
The touch was neither rough nor kind—merely dry and businesslike. And simultaneously, a shadow she’d come to recognize with dreadful familiarity fell across her.
“The freshman team has decided to change our representative.”
What?
“To Cyrus. There’s a rule permitting team substitution when a participant faces special circumstances, so there should be no issue. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Bennett looked up, bewildered.
For someone other than Cyrus to voluntarily involve himself in a school event was extraordinarily unusual.
Ibby turned to look at him with an expression no less stunned.
Why on earth?
“Do you know what this Debate Competition’s topic is?”
He had no interest in such activities. Debate among scholars would hold his attention, perhaps, but high school debate? To him, it would be beneath notice.
“I do.”
He answered confidently, though only after casting a brief glance at the Competition poster on the wall.
“Is restricting economic growth in developing nations justified for environmental preservation? A worthy topic. I’ve memorized all the major position papers on carbon regulation.”
Ibby’s jaw dropped.
…That’s not it.
“Then I’ll go prepare.”
Having delivered his announcement, he turned and headed elsewhere.
Ibby glanced between Bennett and where Cyrus had vanished, gave the teacher a bow, and hurried after him.
“So are we arguing for the regulation side? Or against?”
“Neither!”
Ibby yelped and grabbed his arm to stop him.
“What are you thinking? You don’t even know the topic, so why are you suddenly butting in?”
He, who’d breezily answered every question until now, finally fell silent.
Yet his gaze drifted slowly—not to her face, but to the arm she’d seized.
Ibby only then realized she was still holding onto him.
Even as she released her grip, she pressed forward, not backing down.
Going into a Debate Competition with an unprepared partner would only mean humiliation.
“This is a Competition where the topic was announced two weeks ago. How do you expect to handle it properly when you’ve just jumped in now?”

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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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