Roy thought the call was from Needy, but the voice on the other end was unexpectedly cold.
"Hello, is this Roy?"
"Jennifer?"
"You sound disappointed. Is that because you were expecting Needy to call instead?"
Roy smirked slightly. She wasn't wrong—he was hoping for Needy's call. She was easier to win over and currently his primary target.
That said, Jennifer was still in the pond; he just had to fish for her differently.
With someone like Needy, who had a bit of an inferiority complex, the best approach was to be warm and supportive, like a comforting sunbeam.
But Jennifer? She was the queen bee, the head cheerleader. That strategy wouldn't work on her.
Jennifer had a line of eager admirers stretching from the classroom to the school gates. A girl like her wouldn't respond to desperate advances.
So Roy decided to play it cool—no bait, no pressure, just let the fish bite if it wanted to.
"Not at all," he replied. "I'm just surprised that the ever-busy Jennifer found the time to call me."
Jennifer's tone turned even colder.
"I'm calling on behalf of the school. They want to know when you'll be back in class. Also, Needy asked me to check in on you."
"Needy? What's wrong? Why didn't she call herself?"
There was a brief silence before Jennifer responded.
"So, you really do care more about Needy."
Huh. Was that… jealousy?
Roy acted as if he hadn't noticed.
"Of course, I care about Needy. We're good friends."
"Just friends?"
"Mhm. And you're my good friend too, Jennifer."
There was a pause, then he heard her exhale softly. When she spoke again, her tone was noticeably gentler.
Apparently, the media frenzy around Billy's case had escalated. Some shady reporters had gotten their hands on Billy's journal and published his motives—his obsession with Needy. As a result, Needy had been thrust into the spotlight. Her family even disconnected their home phone, and she hadn't been to school in days.
"Tell the school I'll be back tomorrow. And let Needy know not to overthink things—it'll all blow over soon."
"Got it. By the way, Roy… about what you said after the game that day… I think I might've been too quick to dismiss it."
She was referring to the moment before Roy had transmigrated into this body—the original Roy had confessed his feelings to Jennifer after a game and was gently rejected.
Judging by her words now, it sounded like she might be reconsidering.
If the original Roy had heard this, he would've been over the moon and gone right back to being Jennifer's devoted follower.
But that would've been the worst possible move. Jennifer only felt this way because she sensed competition. If that disappeared, she'd go right back to treating him like she did before.
Roy wasn't about to fall into that trap.
"Oh, that? Yeah, I was probably a little hasty. You were right—we should both think it over more carefully."
He left the conversation open-ended. Once a fish was in the pond, he wasn't about to let it swim away.
Jennifer hesitated before sighing.
"Roy… do you think we'll always be good friends?"
"Of course!"
---
The next day, Roy pulled up to Oakridge High School in his second-hand yellow Chevy Camaro—only to be greeted by a huge banner at the school gates.
**WELCOME BACK, FALLS TOWN HERO ROY BLACK!**
What the hell?
Since when did American schools do stuff like this?
Roy turned his head and immediately spotted a crowd of reporters and news vans parked outside the school. Clearly, this had all been planned in advance.
Ah. No wonder the school had Jennifer call him. They wanted to use him for publicity!
To be fair, this wasn't unusual for American private schools.
Private schools thrived on reputation, and one of the fastest ways to boost prestige was through sports. That's why many American schools gave athletes special treatment.
Colleges took it even further—some even sent attractive female students to recruit top-tier athletes.
Yep. Exactly how you're imagining it.
Roy's rise to fame was a bit unconventional, but the school wasn't about to waste the opportunity.
As soon as he stepped out of the car, reporters swarmed him.
"Mr. Black, how do you respond to Billy Anglin's mother accusing you of using excessive force?"
"Maybe she should ask the dead cops instead. Now move, I have class."
"Mr. Black, what are your thoughts on the reports about Billy Anglin's motives?"
Roy originally had no intention of answering—that question was obviously meant to drag Needy into the mess.
But then he noticed the journalist asking the question. She had a striking figure and kept throwing him flirtatious glances.
Fine. She gets one.
"Some people are trying to shift the blame onto an innocent girl to cover up their own failings as parents. There's only one word for that—garbage."
The statement was bound to make headlines. The reporter's eyes lit up as she pressed further.
"So, are you saying Billy Anglin's parents bear responsibility for his actions?"
"Move aside, class is starting."
Roy tried to push through, but the reporter was practically pressing against him. Worse, the male reporters were jostling him too—he could even feel a hand groping his backside.
He was ready to start swinging.
Thankfully, the principal arrived with a team of security guards.
"Alright, everyone, Mr. Black is just a student. He's not equipped to handle such overwhelming enthusiasm. If you have questions, direct them to me."
The reporters weren't interested in the principal, but the security team formed a human barrier, blocking them.
Seizing the opportunity, Roy put his 16 agility points to use, darting into the school building in the blink of an eye.
The reporters couldn't follow—Oakridge High was a private school, meaning it was private property.
If any of them trespassed, security could legally use force. This was Texas, after all.
With no choice, the reporters settled for interviewing the principal, who effortlessly steered every question back to the school's reputation.
Roy didn't care about any of that. He had finally stepped into the building—his first time attending school since arriving in this world.
Like many American schools, Oakridge High had rows of lockers lining the entrance hall for students to store their belongings.
Roy navigated to his locker, following the original owner's memories. He opened it, put his things inside, and was about to close it when something caught his eye.
Inside, taped to the door, was a photograph of him and Jennifer. It looked like it was taken at a school dance.
"Didn't expect you to keep this."
(End of chapter)