My High School Nerd Rival - Chapter 86

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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 86
Ivy arrived at the Seminar Room with a Lemon Carbonated Drink in each hand, and a cool wave of air conditioning spilled out from within.
“Fabian, you were already here?”
Ivy checked her watch. She’d come fifteen minutes early, yet he’d arrived even sooner.
“Yeah, just. Studying.”
He pushed the book on the table to the side, and Ivy handed him the drink she’d brought.
“I picked yours up while I was getting mine.”
“Thanks. You didn’t have to, though.”
Fabian bit the straw and drank, while Ivy observed him carefully.
His manner was as composed as ever—no sign that he minded his rejection on the Rooftop.
‘He’s really okay with it, isn’t he?’
He’d said he was fine, so she should just accept that. But somehow, she couldn’t.
“Oh, that’s right. The last paragraph in the draft you sent me—I really loved it.”
Ivy pulled the Tablet from her Bag and opened the file he’d sent.
“Like I said, your command of language is exceptional.”
At the effusive praise, Fabian tilted his head with a puzzled expression.
“Why are you suddenly being so nice to me?”
“When have I ever let you down?”
Ivy felt a pang of guilt, but she spread the source text out with feigned calm.
“Well, there’ve been countless times, actually.”
Fabian answered while resting his chin on his hand, his gaze fixed on her.
…….
Ivy lost her words for a moment.
It sounded like he was referring to the time she’d betrayed him.
“Back then, whenever we had assignments, you’d push me aside and just solve the problems yourself, remember?”
But the words that followed spoke to a different period entirely.
Their childhood, growing up together.
For Ivy, assignments had been a suffocating competition with the nanny’s son, and naturally, even when Fabian came to play, she had no time to spare for him.
“That… yeah, that’s how it was back then.”
There was no way to argue.
“Just back then?”
Fabian wore a mischievous, boyish smile.
“From where I’m sitting, I’d say you’d still neglect me if your assignments got urgent. You’re exactly the same as before.”
This time, too, she had no rebuttal.
But Ivy made a timid protest.
“That’s not entirely true. I’ve grown up too.”
“Ah… right, there are differences.”
Fabian pointed at her hair with the tip of his pen.
It hung disheveled from her hurried arrival—in fact, she hadn’t bothered to style it at all since morning.
“I wish I could show your younger self what you look like now. You remember, don’t you? You used to insist on pulling every last strand up into a neat bun.”
“Fabian, please.”
Ivy’s face fell.
There had indeed been such a time—when she’d hoped to become a perfect princess and had been finicky about it.
She didn’t hate those years, but hearing about them through someone else’s mouth made her embarrassed all the same.
“I’m not saying it’s bad. You were cute then, and now you look comfortable.”
“Well, comfortable is true, I guess.”
At first it was to hide her identity, but gradually, living like this, she’d grown accustomed to it.
“Sometimes I wonder if I’ll end up dressing like this forever.”
“Wouldn’t that be refreshingly good in its own way?”
Fabian was supportive, but Ivy groaned and shook her head.
The thought alone of photographs showing ‘Princess Evelyn in tangled hair and athletic wear’ was horrifying.
Wanting to stop such thoughts, Ivy turned her attention back to the source text. Now she needed to focus on the assignment.
It was the passage describing the moment Apollo first saw Daphne.
A famous section always cited when speaking of how a lover perceives their beloved.
Ivy read through the Latin words with the tip of her pencil, pointing to each one in turn.
Videt—he sees.
Inornatos—unadorned.
Capillos—hair.
“Fabian, about this…”
The question that had begun to form trailed off.
A memory flashed suddenly into her mind.
She’d seen this phrase somewhere before.
A Memo Note fluttering as it fell, fingers touching Cyrus’s. Through that lingering afterimage, the words on the note she’d kept pushing to the back of her mind.
Videt inornatos capillos.
What Cyrus had hurriedly stuffed into his pocket, calling it “personal.”
‘He sees unadorned hair.’
Had it been a note for the assignment?
Then why would he hide it?
His expression was composed, but his hands were clearly tense.
Could it be—
Ivy reached up and touched her own hair, left carelessly loose below her shoulders.
Something in her chest felt warm, almost ticklish.
“Ivy?”
Fabian called to her.
“Oh, sorry.”
Ivy picked up her pen again.
“The passage interpretation seems a bit tricky.”
“Want me to take a look?”
He leaned closer, tilting his head. Ivy quickly hugged the notebook to herself and shook her head.
“No, it’s fine.”
What she’d written was ordinary text; showing it to Fabian would have caused no trouble.
But Ivy held the notebook close to her chest as if to hide it.
“I can manage on my own.”
She forced her eyes back to the source text, yet her mind remained fixed on the brief sentence nestled in her arms.
No—
On Cyrus, who’d written that sentence separately.
* * *
After leaving the Seminar Room, Ivy stopped by the Library to return two books and check out a new one.
As she turned from the counter, she met a familiar silhouette.
Cyrus.
He must have had business at the Library too. In his usual Hoodie, Bag slung awkwardly across one shoulder, and a book in his other hand.
“Cyrus.”
The moment she called his name, she realized how eagerly she’d spoken.
“Hey.”
Cyrus’s response was as understated as always.
Embarrassed at being the only one who seemed to care, she looked down—and saw the book in his arms.
A hardbound edition, its gold lettering faded with age.
Metamorphoses, Volume One.
Her breath caught.
The book she’d been thinking about the entire time in the Seminar Room—the one that held the Memo Note.
Could it still be tucked between those pages?
“What?”
He sensed her stare and asked. His voice held no particular emotion.
“Nothing.”
Ivy hastily shook her head. Heat was rising to her face, but she forced herself to ignore it.
Cyrus didn’t press further. In this regard, he was a truly comfortable person to be around.
“Oh, right.”
Ivy brought up a different topic—partly to push away her thoughts of the note.
“We agreed to go together, remember? That…”
“Dance Party.”
When she hesitated, he supplied the word, as if stating an obvious fact.
“Right, yeah. Um… if you decide what to wear, could you let me know? I’ll coordinate with you.”
“Coordinate what?”
“Colors, or like… the mood? Haven’t you heard? Usually partners match their outfits.”
Ivy’s gaze dropped again. She was stating something perfectly normal, so why did it feel so embarrassing?
Especially that word—partner.
It was similar to project partners. No, it was exactly the same.
“First I’m hearing of it.”
An uncomfortable note crept into his voice.
“So how do you decide something like that?”
A straightforward question, genuinely asking for help.
Ivy nearly laughed. He could solve Differential Equations more beautifully than anyone, yet he didn’t know something all the other students understood.
“Well, I’ve never actually decided something like that myself.”
Ivy answered in a lighter tone.
“There’s a Dress Code to follow, so you have to match that too, and things should look decent together. You don’t want it to be too expensive, but you can’t have it look cheap either.”
“So we need to find the optimal solution within the given constraints.”
“Exactly. That’s why some people go to Town Center on the weekends to find something that fits the criteria…”
Ivy paused for a moment.
She worried that mentioning going out together on the weekend might be misunderstood.
“Weekend, preliminary scouting. Got it.”
Cyrus nodded and pulled out his Mobile Phone, beginning to enter the schedule.
“Sunday, 10 AM. School Gate. Any objections?”
The time and place were being settled in an instant.
“Wait, hold on.”
Ivy opened her calendar app for no good reason. Not that she’d have any plans on the weekend.
“Yeah, nothing.”
“Good, I’ve entered it. I’ll share it with you.”
He tapped the screen, and soon an alarm arrived on her account.
[Schedule Shared: Sunday 10AM Preliminary Scouting]
“See you then.”
Cyrus adjusted his Bag and brushed past her.
‘What just happened…?’
Something significant seemed to have been decided in a heartbeat.
Going out separately on the weekend? That almost sounds like….
‘No, that’s not it.’
Ivy looked at the schedule share notification Cyrus had sent. It clearly said “preliminary scouting.”
‘It’s absolutely not like a date.’
Ivy pressed the accept button.

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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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