An Awkward New Year's Greeting
Only after the words had left my mouth did I realize how strange it was to turn around so belatedly just to say hello.
It made me look like I was carefully watching for Cyrus’s reaction.
“......”
Apparently finding it odd, Cyrus—who had turned back—stayed silent for a long moment before finally speaking.
“Hi, Underwood.”
“Yeah.”
What was I supposed to say next? Let’s have a good new year too? That sounded ridiculous.
Unable to find the right words, I lifted my hand, then let it drop awkwardly.
“See you.”
I spun around and hurried up the remaining stairs.
Why did I do that?
The moment I reached my room I flopped onto the bed and clutched my hair.
I had probably looked even weirder, and right about now Cyrus was no doubt laughing at me.
Why on earth would I show a weakness to my rival?
From the next morning onward I had to prepare for the “New Year’s Resolution Event” alongside the senior class presidents of Dormitory 3.
This was exactly why I had returned early instead of lingering at the palace.
The event was built around the idea that, with the new year beginning, we should all renew our determination together and enjoy a healthy, energetic semester.
That part sounded fine.
“Truth is, none of the students actually care about the spirit of it. They’re only desperate because of the special privileges.”
According to the senior class president, the original meaning had faded away completely.
The school’s decision to attach the condition “dorms that participate enthusiastically will receive two special privileges” had been the start of this tragic history.
“What are the privileges?”
I asked what exactly had made everyone forget the original purpose, and the answer was:
“Outside food delivery rights.”
I nearly let my expression freeze over.
Everyone was staking their lives on this?
Well… I guess I can understand it.
In an era where ordering food through an app is common sense, it might not seem like much, but this was a stuffy old royal high school. Naturally the school enforced strict—almost violent—regulations on outside food.
With the delivery pass, however, students could order whatever they wanted.
“It’s only for a week, but there’s a special kind of fun to it, you know?”
“Fun?”
“Eating it openly in the cafeteria where students from the other dorms can see.”
“What?!”
“After the first dormitory threw a delivery party with every kind of food last year, everyone’s been gritting their teeth waiting for this day.”
“They bragged about it that much?”
“Satisfaction always increases when you flaunt something childish. Haven’t you seen Tiffany Vance from your year?”
Extremely persuasive. I found myself nodding before I could stop.
“So what’s the second privilege everyone’s looking forward to?”
“Oh, no one cares about that one.”
The senior said it was so boring it would make you yawn just hearing it, then added:
“It’s a one-point reduction in demerits for everyone in the dormitory. But as you know, no one in this dorm really has any demerits to begin with…”
I shot up from my seat.
“That’s an incredible privilege!”
A reduction in demerits was a perfect chance to show tangible results on a graph.
If my conduct score was deducted again later, I might be able to use this as a counterargument.
No, that’s not all, is it?
Winning the New Year’s Resolution Event would also prove my leadership as class president.
I could definitely aim for those extra points.
I clenched my fist.
This was truly a win for everyone.
The piranha-like students of Dormitory 3 would get their outside food, and I would get additional points.
It was the perfect New Year activity.
“I’ll work hard on whatever it is. What do I need to do?”
“Each grade’s class president has an important mission.”
I nodded with deadly seriousness, ready to accomplish anything.
“It’s to encourage every student in your grade to participate. The participation rate is worth a huge number of points. All of Dormitory 3 must unite.”
“Leave it to me! That’s no problem at all. Of course everyone will…”
As I answered excitedly, several faces flashed through my mind.
First, Tiffany Vance.
To someone who only ate a grain-of-sand portion of salad in the cafeteria, worldly food was clearly not an attractive reward.
Besides, ever since the custom headband incident, Tiffany had looked at me like I was her mortal enemy, and the “Angels” of Dormitory 3 had joined her ranks.
They had snorted and lightly bumped my shoulder several times when passing me in the hallway. There had been no real harm, so I hadn’t made an issue of it.
Would Tiffany and the Angels willingly attend a Dormitory 3 event where I was practically begging for participation?
Absolutely not.
And the problem didn’t stop with them.
Among the new students of Dormitory 3 loomed a massive wall named Cyrus Quinton.
There was no need to explain why he was the biggest obstacle of all.
“Really? Then we don’t have to worry about the new students participating?”
The senior asked as he stood, and I nodded before I could stop myself.
When in reality I had more worries than I could count.
Once the New Year holiday ended, students began returning to the dorm one or two at a time.
I stood in the dormitory hall, and an unwelcome memory inevitably rose.
It was the first time I had distributed the lifestyle rules here.
When I remembered how badly I had bungled everything, my head still spun.
But today the situation was different.
Mainly because Joy stood beside me.
And Joy still held real influence inside Dormitory 3.
Just how powerful that influence was:
“Eh, that sounds kind of annoying.”
The male student who had scratched his head in front of me, claiming he wasn’t interested in bothersome things, immediately straightened.
“Come out.”
At one word from Joy he nodded without resistance.
I looked at her with open admiration.
“How do you do that?”
“It’s simple. I just picture being surrounded by annoying relatives from the first day of the new year and the moment my grades get revealed. Rage fills my eyes naturally.”
Then Joy crossed her arms and gave me a sideways glare.
“And the rage about why my only friend never bothered to make one phone call.”
“Ah.”
I smiled awkwardly and fiddled with the bridge of my glasses.
“Well, I was planning to call…”
I trailed off.
I couldn’t exactly say that running into Cyrus on the way back to the room had made me forget completely.
No, that wasn’t right.
The encounter and the phone call had nothing to do with each other.
“Sorry. I should have paid more attention.”
“Honestly.”
Joy gave my cheek a light pinch.
“You can be so frustratingly bad at taking jokes. In a situation like this you should have shot back with ‘If you wanted to talk on the phone that badly, you could have called me yourself.’”
“Even so, it doesn’t change the fact that I forgot.”
“You really are stubborn. Sometimes you seem exactly like someone from the old days.”
I smiled awkwardly. Being called old-fashioned was probably unavoidable when you were secretly a member of the royal family.
“Nothing happened with Cyrus Quinton while I was gone, right? I heard he stayed in the dorm instead of going home for the new year.”
“Oh, really?! I—I didn’t know that.”
The lie slipped out before I could stop it.
“I only found out because Logan kept whining to me. I ignored him, though. He can be such a pain.”
“What was Logan whining about?”
“That he was bored. That Cyrus Quinton was dutifully watching the royal family’s New Year greeting live broadcast.”
“What?”
My eyes flew wide open.
Cyrus had watched the live broadcast?
The moment I realized that, the way he had stared at my face right after I returned suddenly felt… completely different.
Could he have figured it out?
Was that why he had frozen for a second when I spoke to him?
No, it couldn’t be. Princess Evelyn on the screen and Evey Underwood were entirely different people.
“I guess there are still people who watch those live streams these days.”
“Maybe they just want to see the princess. She’s been the top student until now, after all. Anyway, I watched it yesterday too, and she seems even more beautiful.”
“……!”
Even Joy had watched it?! But hadn’t Owen clearly said none of the kids these days watched anymore?!
“What’s with that face? Evey. Don’t tell me… you—”
As Joy said “don’t tell me” and began peering straight into my eyes, goosebumps raced down my spine.
Unlike Cyrus, Joy had truly sharp eyes.
“W-what do you mean, don’t tell me!”
“Is it that you hate the idea of Cyrus being interested in the princess?”