Campus Short Stories & Novels

The school beauty was obsessed with dares. Over the course of high school, she had made people bark like dogs on the sports field and even made someone confess their love to one of the cafeteria ladies. On the day of our final exam, she was feeling mischievous again. While we were riding to the exam venue on a school bus, she secretly hid everyone's admission tickets. She called it our 'last big adventure'. "Come on, everyone! Start looking! If you find yours, we'll all walk into the exam room together. If you don't..." She grinned. "I guess I'll see you all next year!" I frowned and was just about to stop her when rows of comments suddenly appeared before my eyes. [Our girl is so cool! It's the final exam, but she still has the guts to take things this far.] [Ugh, that other girl is so annoying. Here she goes again, trying to lecture our girl.] [Let her keep pushing her luck. If she dares call the police and ruin our girl's finals, the male lead will retaliate by changing her college application to St. Aldwyn University. Then, he'll deliberately make things difficult for her. It won't be long before he drives her into depression and suicide. [Meanwhile, with the male lead supporting our girl every step of the way, she'll become the youngest Doctor of Medicine in the country.] I froze. Then, without a word, I closed the emergency call screen. Instead, I opened my offer from Cromwell University and clicked 'Accept'.

I had been the top student the school recruited with a full scholarship, while my younger sister, Chloe Stevens, had gotten in through money despite being a poor performer. In my past life, during the college entrance exams, Chloe, who had always ranked at the bottom, suddenly made a miraculous turnaround and got into Royalton College, just like I did. Right after that, she marched straight to the admissions office and reported me, claiming that I had copied all my answers from her. That was impossible. I had a score above 1480 on every single test. The admissions office and teachers did not believe her either. Then, Chloe accused me of using some kind of black magic, saying that whatever answer she wrote down, I would somehow know and copy it. The admissions office made us retake the exam, and somehow every single one of our answers came out identical. I could not defend myself, got arrested by the police, and spent the rest of my life rotting in prison. After being reborn, I studied harder than ever and secured an early admission to Royalton College. Now, sitting in the exam room, I deliberately scored zero on every single test. I wanted to see just how many points Chloe could get without me.

Marie Hail had been groomed since childhood to be the perfect good girl. Every aspect of her life was tightly controlled. Her parents approved the colors she wore, forbade her from wearing skirts above the knee, and insisted she take small bites and chew each mouthful thoroughly. She was little more than a marionette, with her parents pulling the strings and dictating her every move. However, everything began to change when she turned eighteen and met Rylan Stafford, a boy who burst into her carefully controlled world like a blazing sun. Rylan had striking features, bright, lively eyes, and a wild, uninhibited laugh. More importantly, he was everything Marie had never dared to be. He took her on reckless motorcycle rides to the beach and drove her across the mountains to watch meteor showers. He even gave her a tattoo, a symbol of freedom inked onto her back. Through him, Marie discovered a world beyond the suffocating rules that had governed her life. As he encouraged her to challenge every restriction holding her back, she gradually found the courage to break free and embrace a passion she'd never known. Rylan was a living flame, and Marie willingly let herself be consumed by him. One day, he asked, "Princess, how about we turn in blank exam papers together during finals?"

The entire school thought I was the school belle Wanda Stewart's biggest simp. I would send her breakfast during her morning run. I would offer her a towel and water during her matches. I would buy her pancakes from three streets away in the bitter cold just because she said she was hungry in the middle of the night. The boys in school who liked her could form a line from the mathematics department to the field. The look in their eyes changed from disdain to hatred. "He hasn't managed to pursue her even after all that simping. He really can take things in his stride." "Wanda is just good-natured. That's why she hasn't called the police." When the school hunk, Connor Graham, decided to publicly confess to Wanda, I became his greatest eyesore. While Wanda was out of school for a match, Connor came to me with his gang from the student council, kicking away the breakfast I bought for myself. Hot milk spilled all over me. He arched a brow and said with zero sincerity in his voice, "I'm sorry. I thought it was yet another bunch of trash you prepared for Wanda." With that, he pulled his phone out and flashed a remark that Wanda had made about me on the screen in the classroom. [A pain in the neck.] The entire class burst out laughing. Connor looked at me, clearly pleased. "See that? She finds you annoying. A man like you, stalking a girl all day, washing her clothes and sending her food... Don't you feel so cheap doing that?" Horace Jones, who stood behind him, chuckled. Connor smacked a letter of guarantee on my chest. [I willingly give up pursuing Wanda Stewart and will never send her food or water, follow her around, or pester her again.] "You can choose not to sign it." He waved his phone, a threatening smile on his face. "I'll just post a photo of you stealing Wanda's undergarment on the school's social media page." I looked at the photo of the white tank top I was keeping on the balcony of my own house and fell into deep thought. Wait. Since when did helping my sister with her laundry count as stealing?

I've gotten into an accident three days before my SAT exam. As a result, my right leg is completely busted. As Selena Surrey stands before my hospital bed, she suddenly reveals the truth. "I'm the one who arranged the accident." She points at my broken leg, which is still sealed in a cast. A cruel smile blossoms on her face. "It's your fault for displeasing Aaron. You only broke one leg anyway. It's way better than watching Aaron continue to waste away in depression." I widen my eyes in disbelief. As I struggle against Selena, I leave fresh scratches on her arms. But Selena just pushes me away coldly, only to pat me on the head gently as she did in the past. "I think I understand how your parents feel now. No wonder they insisted on sending you to the orphanage back then. It's true that you aren't as likeable as Aaron." Aaron Lindt is my biological older brother. 15 years ago, I had gotten hurt just to save him from getting hit by a car. But he cried to our parents, claiming that I was the one who had pushed him. Our parents were quick to send me to an orphanage, completely disregarding my injuries. Just as I thought it was over for me, Selena showed up and promised me that she'd be the person I could rely on for the rest of my life. But now, she decides to ruin me with her own hands for the sake of the same person she has promised to protect me from.

The year Duncan Sadler marries Brianna Collins, everyone says he's lucky. After all, he only gets to marry Brianna because he looks so much like his older brother, Lucas Sadler. Duncan knows better than anyone that he's nothing more than a stand-in for Lucas. But he loves Brianna, so he's willing to spend his entire life in his brother's shadow. That is, until he turns 50 and overhears Brianna talking to a friend. "If only Lucas hadn't died back then…" Overwhelmed with emotion, Duncan clutches his chest and falls down the stairs. When he opens his eyes again, he's back in high school. This time, he chooses to keep his distance from Lucas and Brianna.

Seventy-two hours before the graduate school recommendation list was posted, someone stole Wesley North's research data. He stared at the empty folder on his screen, his fingertips going cold. Eight months of work—more than two hundred pages of charts and twelve rounds of empirical analysis—gone. Wesley checked the security footage. The files had been copied by Natalie Rowan, his childhood friend of eighteen years, and handed to Derek Sloan, the classmate everyone believed was struggling to get by. In that moment, Wesley didn't think about his own future. He thought about his grandmother. Her doctors had declared her critical eight times, and she was hanging on just to hear whether he'd made the list.

My girlfriend loves to test my love for her. After the college entrance exam results were released, she, who usually scored over 1450 in mock exams, told me she did not do well and only got 1070. She asked if I would be willing to repeat a year and retake the exam with her. I agreed, even though I had a perfect score. However, when school started, I found out that she actually scored 1540 and had already received her acceptance letter to MIT.

At one in the morning, I was alone in the research building, fighting for my life against my thesis. That was when I opened NearU and saw a viral anonymous post. My girlfriend loved the hair clip I bought her. The attached screenshot showed a girl’s side profile. It was blurred almost beyond recognition. But the blue enamel hair clip was clear. My hand went straight to my hair. Because that exact clip was holding my hair back. Two weeks ago, my anonymous boyfriend had helped me choose it. I had sent him that photo. And now his post showed he was only 300 feet away. I looked down the empty hallway. At this hour, only three places nearby still had lights on. My thesis adviser’s office. The graduate lounge. And the joint lab next door. Then my phone buzzed. Baby? Why did you go quiet? I stared at the message. For three months, I had been flirting with a man whose name I didn’t know and whose face I had never seen. Now he was somewhere in this building. Maybe behind one of those doors. Maybe watching the same hallway. Maybe close enough to hear me breathe. Then I saw the light under Dr. Ford’s office door. My stomach dropped. Because there was one thing worse than falling for a stranger online. Finding out he might be the professor who had just covered my thesis in red ink.

During freshman boot camp, my roommate covered herself from head to toe in her homemade sunscreen every day. It made her skin fair and soft, and made her smell so sweet that she drew the attention of countless young men. Even my rich boyfriend led the campaign to crown her campus beauty queen. But only I knew the fragrance she added to her sunscreen was toxic. It would make her skin rot if she used it for a long time. I said nothing. Instead, I quietly applied to switch dorms. In my last life, I had warned her out of kindness. She cried in front of everyone and said I was trying to isolate her. All the young men called me jealous. My boyfriend broke up with me in anger, then pursued her instead. It didn't take long for my roommate's skin to really start rotting, and I rushed to apply the salve made from an old family recipe. The wounds healed, but her skin turned dark and rough. She went from campus beauty queen to campus joke overnight. My boyfriend dumped her, and the other young men avoided her like the plague. She blamed everything on my jealousy. On the day she was forced to withdraw from university, she tied me up on the top floor of a university building. Then she poured a bucket of sulfuric acid over my head. "It's all because of your accursed salve that everyone's laughing at me! You ruined my chance to marry into a rich family!" I died from the torment. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the first day of my university's freshman boot camp.

On the day we reported for the new semester, my girlfriend had just been admitted to one of the country's top universities. That morning, she suddenly told me she had chosen the wrong major and wanted to take a year off to retake the entrance exam. I knew exactly why. It was for her childhood friend, the one who had not made it. Her parents begged me to talk her out of it. After a night of painful deliberation, she appeared downstairs at my dorm and said, "I've made up my mind. I won't retake the exam. Let's stay together and make this work." However, during the freshman welcome event, just as her name was being called, her phone lit up. A message from him. [My prep class started today. My deskmate isn't you anymore. It feels so strange.] She went completely still. I tightened my grip on her hand and warned her quietly, "If you leave now, we're finished. Forever." She whispered an apology, dragged her suitcase behind her, and walked out of the campus.

My SAT scores are in, and with a 1590, I'm number one in the whole city. I'm over the moon and rush to apply to the elite universities my score qualifies me for. But the moment I hit submit, the only school on my application is Fernbrook Vocational School, with a major in excavator operation. I have no idea what's going on. I figure my eyes are playing tricks on me and that I've picked the wrong school, so I withdraw the application right away and fill it out again. This time, just to be safe, I ask my parents—both graduates of top universities—to look it over with me. Once the whole family confirms that everything is correct, I click submit again. The very next second, my application shows nothing but the excavator operation major at Fernbrook Vocational School. We're all stunned. We call the help line right away, but they tell us the application system is working perfectly fine. With only one chance left, we pay a fortune to the city's most reputable admissions consulting firm to redo my application. We make sure there's nothing wrong with the system, and everyone checks the application over and over. Then I hit submit one more time. But when the page refreshes, my application still only shows the excavator operation major at Fernbrook Vocational School. With ten years of hard work going down the drain right before my eyes, I fall apart completely and end up jumping off a building. Even as I die, I can't understand why I can only apply to Fernbrook Vocational School with a score of 1590. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day I fill out my college applications.

In my past life, right before sitting for the college entrance exams, my best friend, Lily Shaw, and I made a pact. We promised that once we got into college, we would study finance and make a fortune. But because my exam went smoothly and I was the first to leave the exam room, I ended up on camera for an interview. Somehow, I blew up overnight. Years later, I became a top celebrity, while Lily was sent to prison for financial fraud. When she got out, I gave her a million dollars to help her get back on her feet. She repaid me by quietly forging lies about me, whipping up a wave of online hate, and doing everything she could to destroy me. I traced the truth and confronted her, but she snapped back at me, "What gives you the right to stare down at me from your lofty throne and throw me scraps, Hannah Linden? I'm prettier than you, and my grades were better than yours. Why did you get the better life?" She laid out a plan to get back at me. She knocked me out and slashed my face. She also gouged out my eyes and cut out my tongue before stuffing me into a freezer, leaving me there to freeze to death. When I open my eyes again, I find myself reborn in my senior-year classroom. There's just over a month left for the college entrance exams. I look at Lily, who sits to my left and whispers to me. I smile at her, my eyes glinting with ice and venom.

Fifteen years ago, I was bullied at school for coming from a poor family. They gave me nicknames, tore my textbooks, and dragged me into the washroom to beat me up. With blood still on the corner of my lip, I went to see my class teacher, Tina Fletcher. But she did not even look up at me when she told me, "You shouldn't be blaming others for your predicament. The fault might be yours, and you should reflect on that first." When I returned to the classroom, she was standing on the lectern and telling the entire class, "Some students just don't know how to reflect on their wrongdoing. There must be a reason that you're targeted by your classmates. Why would they choose to bully you rather than someone else?" I suffered from depression after that and attempted suicide. I had to take a leave of absence from school and even missed the chance to go to college that year. But I eventually dug myself out of the dark abyss, inch by inch. I worked relentlessly and made it all the way to the country’s leading psychologist. That was until one day, Chief of Medicine handed me an appointment form. I stared at the familiar name on the paper and laughed. "I'd like to apply to recuse myself from this case. I can't take this patient."

My boyfriend, Nathan Linden, refuses to participate in buy one, get one free promotions with me, so every time we go out on a date, my best friend, Candace Lane, always ends up joining us. "Buy one free one at Lucky Star Beverages! Don't miss out!" Nathan immediately calls Candace, then places his order first without missing a beat. Candace doesn't take long to arrive and accepts the iced coffee Nathan passes her. The straw is already stuck into the drink. The pair begin to talk about a mutual game they play, getting into a heated discussion that causes their faces to flush red. I tighten my grip on the receipt I'm holding. The milkshakes are clearly on promotion too, yet every time, I'm the odd one out and have to order for myself. By the time I receive my milkshake, Nathan and Candace have already exited the shop. I hurry over to the cinema across the street to meet up with them, only to see the two of them arguing. As it turns out, Nathan's credit card allows him to enjoy 50% off if he buys two tickets, but he has no intention of giving that second ticket to me. When Candance spots me, she urges me, "Lily, quick! Go buy a ticket for yourself. The movie's going to start in ten minutes." Then, she shoves a bucket of popcorn into my arms and adds with a shy smile, "Here, the popcorn was buy one, get one free too. You can have this bucket all to yourself since you eat so much. Nate and I can just share this one bucket." I pause and glance between the two. Their movie seats are next to each other, and their favorite drinks, phone casings, and even the keychains hanging from their backpacks are all the same. Suddenly, an epiphany crashes over me. Since they love buy one, get one free promotions that much, I'll just back out of this relationship.

On the first day of school, I pulled down the pants of Luke Shea, the campus heartthrob, and that gained me notoriety right away. Due to the incident, I hid behind a mask to attend classes. A week later, Luke pinned me against a corner and said menacingly, “You have to take responsibility, now that you’ve seen my body. “You better not think about dumping me after messing with me.” Oh, I wouldn’t dare. Guess I had to take him in then.

On yearbook photo day, I went over and stood next to my boyfriend, Blake Whitmore. Madison Vance, the cheer captain and sorority president, showed up late, and the crowd parted for her without being asked. A path opened straight to Blake, who stood dead center. "What took you so long? You just turned every head in the place." Blake smiled softly and pulled her into the spot beside him. I was pushed out of the frame. Tyler Brooks, my friend since childhood, caught my arm. "Claire, don't fight Madison for the spot. She's the main character today." Then he traded places with me and took the spot next to her. The crowd started whooping. The fraternity president stood on one side and the vice president on the other, with Madison safely between them. When the group shot was done, the whooping started up again. Blake and Madison had won Cutest Couple in this year's yearbook by a landslide. A hairline crack opened inside my chest, and the cold seeped through it. I was the one dating Blake. Everyone had voted for them anyway. Out on the lawn, the photographer guided the two of them through one close pose after another. Then he called out to us. "Mr. President, where's your fraternity pin? Put it on your queen!" My hand went to the Greek-letter pin over my heart. Blake looked over at me and jogged toward me. "Babe, let me borrow it. Don't be stingy." He took my wrist and moved my hand aside, then removed the pin he'd fastened there himself three years ago. People around us started murmuring. "Oh, that's her. Claire. Blake's girlfriend." "I never even noticed her... She really doesn't stand out." Something in me went hollow, and my hands closed into fists. Your moment of glory has nothing to do with me. So from now on, my life has nothing to do with you.

I had a crush on Mandy Sawyer for three years. I had thought it would be my secret pantomime forever. I had even planned to silently wave goodbye to her back on the day of our high school graduation. However, when I saw her weeping silently under her desk over the sudden drop in her usually stellar results… I watched her trembling shoulders and knew that I could no longer pretend to be a stranger.

In a music competition show, my rival unexpectedly played the melody I had in my mind before I could. Shocked, I confronted her, asking why she plagiarized me. However, she turned the accusation against me and said, "You said I stole your work, but do you have any proof?" However, I was unable to provide any concrete evidence. Thus, I was labeled as a bully and a plagiarist, ultimately meeting a tragic end. Even in my final moments, I couldn't figure out how she managed to steal something from my mind. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on that same stage. Seeing that my rival was about to play her part, I stopped her and said, "This time, it's my turn to go first."

I'm the head cheerleader for the Westbrook High football team. I couldn't walk through the front gate without a crowd closing in around me, and one candid photo could set the entire school message board on fire. Then I woke up one morning inside the body of the two-hundred-pound girl in my class, the one everybody called ugly. Our souls had traded places. She sent me a message. [Your good days are over, Corinna Vale.] [And let me be clear, this swap is permanent. From today on, everything people ever envied you for belongs to me!] [As for you, go rot in that body for me!] But I looked at the girl in the mirror and laughed out loud. She had only seen the shine on the outside. She had no idea I'd paid for that beauty with my life. From the age of six, every meal I ate was a diet plan measured out to the gram. To keep my figure, I was put on an operating table and had a rib taken out. I could still picture the ugly looks on my parents' faces. To them I was not a daughter. I was a pretty piece of merchandise to be sold to a rich family. I tightened my grip on the phone. She wanted to use my face to steal my boyfriend, take my place in my family, and turn me into a joke. But I had no intention of letting her have any of it. Getting beautiful and fit again was only a matter of time for me. But that hollowed-out body and that loveless family were hers for life.