Bias Campus Short Stories & Novels

Several comments suddenly float across my vision on the day the college entrance exam results are released. "I can't believe that he's still in the mood to laugh. Your girlfriend is using the exchange system to swap your college entrance exam results with Hugo's!" "I feel so sorry for Daniel. He's the genius of the school, and yet he's only going to score 400 points for the college entrance exams." "That's not all! Taylor's system has the ability to absorb Daniel's luck. She's going to use his entire family as stepping stones to pave her own future." "She's so ruthless. I can't believe that she's going to 'annihilate' her boyfriend's family just because his better background makes her feel inferior." A chill runs down my spine as I stare at the strange comments scrolling past my eyes. I'm the "Daniel" the commenters are referring to, the unlucky sap whose college entrance exam results were swapped with the poor student Hugo Powell's. I have no idea that my good-natured girlfriend, Taylor Wakeham, hates me so much. However, what the commenters don't know is that I've already secured a special invitation from Woodrow University's Department of Science long ago. I only take the college entrance exams purely because I want to experience what it's like. Not wanting to take up space on the rankings, I write all my answers on a spare piece of paper instead of the actual answer sheet.

My boyfriend proposed to me when we graduated from high school, but I made a deal with him instead of giving him an immediate answer. "We'll get married when we've collected 500 train tickets." In the first year, Marcus could hardly wait to come see me every day. Before long, our collection had grown to 280 tickets. He even laughed and said that he'd be able to take me home as his wife before graduation at the rate he was going. In the second year, we met each other halfway. Soon, the number of tickets climbed to 400. But in our third year, Marcus told me that his advisor had taken on a new project and that a junior who had just joined the research team needed him to show her the ropes. He became swamped, so I ended up visiting him most of the time. Meanwhile, he only came to see me occasionally. By the end of the year, we had barely managed to collect 460 tickets. In our fourth year, he said he was too busy with internship interviews, leaving me no choice but to pull several all-nighters to finish my assignments so that I could spend a weekend going to see him. We finally collected 499 train tickets just before graduation. I secretly put on a white wedding dress, slipped on the ring he'd given me when he proposed, and boarded a train. I wanted to surprise Marcus. I wanted to tell him that we had finally reached 500 tickets. I wanted to tell him that I was ready to marry him. But when I arrived at the foot of his dormitory building, my heart full of anticipation… I saw Marcus holding another girl tightly, surrounded by a large heart of flickering candles. He lowered his head and kissed her on the lips amid the cheers and teasing from the crowd.

My girlfriend's schoolmate is being hounded by creditors. In my past life, the same incident had unfolded before my eyes. I was worried that my girlfriend would provoke these ruthless creditors, so I'd advised her not to meddle. However, her schoolmate later overdosed on sleeping pills. Later on, my girlfriend acted as if nothing had happened and continued preparing for our wedding. But after she got drunk one day, I found her caressing his picture tenderly—before stabbing me in the heart with a knife. She claimed that if not for my indifference and selfishness, her schoolmate wouldn't have taken his own life. Now that I've been reborn, I'll grant her wish and let her help him pay off his debts. Presently, I say, "He's your schoolmate. If you can help him, go ahead. I won't object."

During my junior year, the university opened five spots for an overseas exchange program, and my childhood friends invited me to go with them. When I refused, Sean Copley, the childhood friend I had secretly loved for years, kissed me outside my dorm. “Once the program’s over, we’ll make it official.” For him, I gave up my chance to attend graduate school and signed the exchange agreement. On the day before we were set to leave, I happily wheeled my suitcase over to meet them, only to overhear their conversation. “If we’re all staying behind, how’s she going to manage on her own abroad?” “But if she stays, how will Katelyn get into our research group?” “She’s always been a loner. We’re all she has, so she’ll come back eventually.” My hands trembled as I pushed the door open. Everyone else looked flustered, but Sean merely frowned and said, “We can’t leave Katelyn here alone just for your sake. Yeah, just head over first. We’ll join you in six months at the latest.” The others quickly chimed in with reassurances. “When have we ever really abandoned you?” I watched them close ranks around Katelyn Schiff, then slowly nodded and left. Unbeknownst to them, I had applied for a joint research training program with the National Deep-Sea Research Institute. I would spend the next eight years at an overseas base and aboard research vessels. Since they had tricked me into leaving alone, I would go even farther on my own.

During my senior-year internship, I opened my family's entire gemstone mine for my classmates to dig and collect from. However, Keith Coburn shamelessly stole my identity as a wealthy scion and claimed the mine belonged to his family instead. After I exposed his lies, he shoved me straight off the cliff. I begged the girl I'd supported for help. Unfortunately, she chose to stand by Keith's side rather than save me. She even delivered the final blow herself. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment Keith pushed me off the cliff. This time, I immediately called my fiercely protective father for help. I'd like to see how long Keith could keep up this rich scion act once my father arrived.

Right before the SAT, our scatterbrained airheaded group favourite, the school belle, Priscilla Ashford, volunteers herself to safeguard everyone's admission tickets. My firm refusal of her offer earns me the displeasure of my childhood sweetheart, Justin Kylemark. "You're picking on her again," he says. I ignore his rebuke. On the exam day itself, I personally double-checked every single admission ticket to make sure nothing could go wrong. However, the moment Priscilla gets hers from me, she burst into tears, claiming that I lost her ticket. Justin snatched my admission ticket and tore it to shreds. I run until my legs give out, barely managing to get it reissued before the bus leaves. However, my classmates all kicked me off the bus together. "You lost Priscilla's admission ticket. Do you think you deserve to sit for the exam?" They carry with them the exam prediction I had prepared for them. Thanks to that, they each achieve excellent scores. I have no choice but to repeat the year and become the top scorer. By then, Justin and my other classmates, who are already in prestigious universities and colleges, all return together. They produce fake evidence, accusing me of cheating in the exam. Unable to defend myself, a candidate who flunked the exam poured gasoline on me and set me on fire. When I open my eyes once more, I see myself handing the admission tickets over to Priscilla… except for my own.

With spring break approaching, a post offering a cash reward went viral on our campus message board. [Offering $500 for a travel itinerary that will help me spend $20,000 in seven days.] The poster had even added a note. [I need to spend most of it, because if I don’t, then my parents, my brother, and my childhood best friend Ethan will think that I didn’t enjoy myself.] Someone in the comments asked why all four of them were funding her vacation. She posted four screenshots of bank transfers. [Because they didn’t check with each other first, and each sent me $5,000.] The comments were full of people telling her how lucky she was. I recognized that profile picture immediately. The person behind the post was my younger sister. As it happened, the $500 she was offering for a travel itinerary was exactly what I would earn working seven days at the convenience store over spring break. I smiled bitterly. My family always had a system to divide up the responsibility for supporting us. My parents, my brother, and our childhood friend were split into two pairs. One pair would cover my sister’s allowance and give her a credit card linked to their account. The other would do the same for me. They said it would keep things fair and make sure that neither of us would be overlooked. However, after the semester started, I realized that I had received neither an allowance nor a card. When I asked Dad, he frowned. “Didn’t your mom send you the money?” I went to Mom next. “Wasn’t your dad supposed to take care of you?” she asked. With no one else to turn to, I asked my brother if he could add me to his credit card account. He looked surprised. “Hasn’t Ethan already done that?” When I tracked Ethan down, he said, “Your brother already got you a card.” At first, I thought they had simply gotten their wires crossed. Only then did I realize the truth. There had been no mix-up. Every single one of them had chosen my sister first. After a moment of thought, I left a comment under her post. [I’m her older sister. Anyone got a survival guide for getting through a week of spring break on $32?]

During orientation training, the class belle, everyone’s favorite, led the entire class to protest against the orientation leader. The orientation leader threatened to make us run as punishment, but she took on everyone’s training load by herself. But in reality, she shifted all the exhaustion onto me. She ran 30 miles while carrying weights without batting an eye. Then, she told the orientation leader that she was willing to take on all the class’s remaining orientation training duties by herself. From that point on, she became the darling of the entire class. Meanwhile, I was exhausted beyond measure, was frequently hospitalized, and was late to training. It affected our class’s honor roll standing. I got yelled at by the whole class. When I explained the situation to everyone, they dismissed me as a nutcase. “You’ve only been in training for a few days! How could you be this exhausted? I think you’re just faking it.” “Are you just jealous that Eira Yard is in better shape than you, looks better than you, and is even more popular than you?” In utter despair, I confronted Eira, but she casually changed into her orientation training uniform. “Please step aside. I’m going to run the final weighted cross-country race on behalf of the entire school. I don’t have time to mess around with you.” Once she was done with the run in the 104-degree heat, her expression remained cool and collected. I, on the other hand, felt as if my limbs had been severed. My organs failed, and I died on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the first day of orientation training. This time, I beat everyone to it and reported to the orientation leader. “I’ll run for the whole class.”

After taking our graduation photo, I break up with Philip Lutz. "You're doing this just because I stood behind Mandy and not you while we were taking our graduation photos?" he asks. "Yes," I merely reply. "Sure," he says with a smile. "You'd better not come crying to me or begging for us to get back together later." Having known each other for ten years and dated for four, Philip is certain that I'll never leave him. However, he's unaware that the graduation photos are just an excuse. If I'm capable of taking my graduation photos alone, I can walk my future path alone. Once I've gone abroad, the sky's the limit for me. I no longer need him to stand behind me either.

On graduation photo day, my boyfriend, Ethan Jones, takes more than 200 photos of Chloe Lloyd, the prettiest girl in our class. As president of the photography club, he knows better than anyone how to find the most flattering angles. Chloe stands beneath a tree and smiles at him. "Are you sure this isn't too much trouble?" Ethan looks down and flips through the photos on his camera. "Not at all. You look good no matter how I photograph you," he says gently. When my turn comes, I clutch the hem of my skirt and walk over. Ethan casually presses the shutter twice. "Done." I stare at him. "That's it?" He frowns at me. "You never look good in pictures anyway. Don't hold everyone else up." I look at the two photos on his camera. My eyes are closed in one, and half my face is hidden in the tree's shadow in the other. I ask him to take a few more, but instead, he puts up a post on the campus forum. "Photographer wanted. 20 dollars to snap a few graduation photos of my girlfriend." Half an hour later, I receive a private message from an unfamiliar profile. I send over my location, then say quietly, "Just so you know, I'm not photogenic." The reply comes almost immediately. "Your photographer didn't know how to work with you." After the shoot, he sends me the unedited photos. I'm stunned when I see the photos. I never knew I could look this good on camera. Even crazier, the photographer who took the job for 20 dollars seems to know what he's doing better than the president of the photography club.

My roommate, Megan Williams, stole the thesis I had spent 187 days writing and revising through twenty-seven drafts for my grad school recommendation. She put her own name on it and submitted it to the college, taking my recommendation spot and deleting every original file from my computer. When I confronted her, she dropped to the floor and started crying. She said I had no right to slander her when I failed to get recommended for grad school. Then she posted a long message in the class group chat, claiming I had plagiarized and had a messy private life. Hundreds of messages flooded in, all of them scolding me. I went to the student counselor. He simply sighed and said, "You're classmates. Let it go." Megan became emboldened after that. She stole the materials I prepared for the competition and ripped up my application form. She smiled as she said, "No matter how hard you try, it won't matter." I stared at her without saying a word. What she did not know was that I had left the model and drafts on my desk on purpose. She took them as expected. Three days later, she pranced through the dorm with the first prize certificate from the university's Outstanding Achievement Awards. "Nelly, look. This is what real talent looks like." I only smiled and said nothing. Because that first prize would be what landed her on the disciplinary list.

It wasn't until my first month of college that I found out the entire pack had been calling me a leech behind my back. The nickname came from Sienna Blackwood—Lucas's partner. To every wolf in Silvermoon, I was just some weakling squatting on pack land. They saw me use Lucas's pass, saw the tiny cabin at the edge of his territory, and filled in the blanks themselves. I went to find Lucas, thinking he'd defend me like he used to when we were pups. But he just waved a hand, didn't even look up from whatever he was doing, and said, "It's just a nickname, Elena. Sienna's joking around. You're being too sensitive." Then he added, "Besides, you're always around me. You use my pass, you live a stone's throw away—to everyone else, yeah, it kind of looks like that." In that moment, something inside me just... broke. Eighteen years of being by his side, and all he saw was a wolf leeching off her Alpha. I didn't cry. I didn't get mad. I just opened my logbook, calm as anything, and submitted my withdrawal from the pack. They had no idea who I really was. They had no idea I wasn't some leech clinging to anyone for survival. Seven days left until I walked out of Silvermoon for good.

After my half sister, Serena Hawke, transferred to Ashmere University, she bet me she could steal Damian Cross from me within a month. I dismissed her. From that day on, Damian became a permanent second-place finisher. The first time Serena beat him, he frowned and said, "One point. I only lost by one point." After that, he calculated their scores every day. Over meals, he muttered, "How did she solve it?" Before bed, he stared at the rankings and said, "I'll beat her next time." He praised her clear reasoning, quick reactions, and even her handwriting. In the laboratory, he chose the seat beside her and responded only to her during group discussions. When I asked him to see a movie with me, he waved me off. "Serena sent me a new problem. I need to work it out." His phone was full of screenshots of her notes. Her class schedule hung beside his bed. Even in his sleep, he murmured about surpassing her. I watched the attention that had once belonged entirely to me shift toward my sister, inch by inch. Then my birthday came. Damian never showed up. I called thirty-seven times. He rejected every call. When he finally answered, he lowered his voice. "Rena asked me to watch the game with her. Wait a little longer." He hung up, and Serena immediately sent me her location: the third-floor lounge at the arena. When I opened the door, her arms were wrapped around his neck. The thread I had held taut inside my chest for half a year finally snapped. All that remained was a deep, aching exhaustion that seeped into my bones. Damian reached toward me in panic. "Rowan..." I stepped back. Anyone who could be taken from me was no longer someone I wanted.

My junior accidentally broke the most expensive piece of equipment in the lab and asked me to help fix it. I had just started touching the instrument when she suddenly stepped back, tears brimming, and said, "Michelle, I can't take responsibility for this. I really can't afford it." Before I could even process her words, Nicky Hardy—the unattainable crush I had chased for three years—rushed in and shielded her behind him. Then he turned to me with a glare that could freeze fire. "Michelle, don't go too far. You can't expect her to take the fall for you." I stared at him, dumbfounded. "You know full well I was shoved into this research group. I don't understand any of this stuff. How could I do the experiments on my own?" His eyes grew colder, dripping with disdain. "I've been saying it—what can a nepo baby actually accomplish? And now the equipment's ruined, and you still have the nerve to push the blame onto Elizabeth?" I opened my mouth to argue, but then I caught a flicker of triumph across Elizabeth Horwitz's face in Nicky's arms. That was when it clicked. They only knew I got in through connections—they had no idea I'd financed this very equipment myself. They wanted to play their petty power games over a piece of lab equipment worth over ten million? Interesting.

On the day of our graduation trip to Suttonvale, my boyfriend, Jarrett Duke, vanishes into thin air. As I pace around the airport in a panic, my roommate sends a cryptic text. "Big surprise coming your way today. Patience." I breathe a sigh of relief, instantly assuming Jarrett is running late because he's setting up a proposal. After all, he promised to put me in a wedding dress the moment we graduated. Then the class rep, Louie Fisher, drops a Venmo link in the group chat and tags everyone. "Huge thanks to everyone coming out for Jarrett and Sienna's engagement party! Three years together, and they're finally making it official!" The pool gets filled in seconds, and congratulations flood the chat. Finally, someone notices. "Holy shit, Louie! Did you forget to kick Olivia out of the group?" The chat drops dead silent. Seconds later, everyone starts tagging me. "Olivia, please don't show up and ruin this! They've kept their love secret for three whole years. It hasn't been easy for them!" "Seriously. You're so possessive Sienna couldn't even show her face without risking a fight!" Even our advisor chimes in to lecture me. "Do me a favor, Olivia. Don't make a scene. Let them have their moment." Their relentless words leave me suffocating, too drained even to fight back. It turns out the fairy-tale romance from high school to the altar is a lie. Every single thing about my last four years is a lie.

When the SAT scores were released, the highest-scoring student in the state, Eva Long, had earned a 1590. During an interview with a local news station, a reporter asked her how she had done it. Eva's lips curved into a knowing smile. "My secret? My sister and her ex. They're both brilliant, and they have enough romantic drama between them to fill an entire TV series. They've been academic rivals since high school, always competing for the top grades. Even after they broke up, they still argued over who got to tutor me. Honestly, I owe my score to both of them." Once the interview aired, people immediately started digging into Bethany Long and Charles Hicks. They were both attractive, brilliant, and apparently perfect for each other. Before long, the internet was obsessed with them. Strangers were begging them to get back together. I was Charles's actual girlfriend. And all I could do was watch everyone celebrate his supposed love story with someone else. On my birthday, Charles and Bethany got so caught up arguing over a practice question that neither of them noticed I was still on the phone. I sat there listening while the candles burned down and the frosting on my cake began to melt. When Bethany needed a new SAT study plan, they shut themselves inside a hotel suite for three days to work on it. That same weekend, I underwent emergency appendix surgery alone and eventually passed out from the pain. On the day I was supposed to try on wedding dresses, Charles abandoned me again. "I promised Eva that Beth and I would take her on a trip after the SAT," he said. "She's still young, so try to be understanding." This time, I had no intention of arguing. I ended the call, took off the wedding dress, and told the consultant I wouldn't be needing it after all. Then I canceled the wedding. I had been doing everything alone for years, anyway. There was nothing wrong with finally admitting I was on my own.

The moment I was pushed off the 99th floor of a building by my adoptive sister, I came to a sudden realization when I saw how my family members defended her. All their so-called love and expectations were nothing but chains that I had self-deceptively put on myself. When those chains were smashed to smithereens, as I lay in a pool of blood, I somehow traveled back in time to when I was fifteen. In this life, I saw Dad and Mom lead Jenny back home once again. However, this time, I was no longer hysterically trying to fight for their favor. Dad and Mom’s bias toward her, my elder brother’s doting brotherly love, and my childhood sweetheart’s tender affection—I didn’t care for any of these. But why were they now the ones crying and begging for me to turn back to them?

My father, Richard Hayes, was the school principal, and my mother, Catherine Hayes, was the head of student affairs. They treated every student equally, earning a reputation as the fairest people in the school. Everyone, that is, except their own daughter, Madison Hayes. To avoid any appearance of favoritism, they refused to acknowledge me as their daughter at school. Even when I was bullied, they insisted it was my own fault. “Did they really bully you? We’ve never seen anything like that. “You can’t make false accusations just because we’re your parents. That wouldn’t be fair to the other students.” Then, one day, I was bullied right in front of them. In the end, I fell from an upper floor and crashed to the ground at their feet. Only then did they finally believe me…

I forgot to bring a No. 2 pencil, so I filled out my SAT exam with a red pen. The proctor warned me it would count as cheating, and I just shrugged and told him it didn't matter. Tyson Jenkins, the school heartthrob who ranked near the bottom of the class, suddenly got anxious. In my last life, we went back to school to pick up our acceptance letters. I already had a guaranteed spot at Kingsford University. And yet, I was the only one who didn't receive a letter. Tyson had used a system to swap our exam scores. Because my score showed up as zero, Kingsford University revoked my guaranteed admission. I demanded a review of the scoring, but Tyson, who had suddenly become the top scorer out of nowhere, sneered at me. "Kieran, couldn't cheat your way through the exam this time, huh? Everyone knows you only got that guaranteed spot by cheating. You've got some nerve playing the victim!" I went to our homeroom teacher to clear my name. I never expected her to cry on camera and say, "I tried to talk Kieran out of it in private. It's not fair to the other students if he does something like that, but he used his family's influence to pressure me into staying out of it." Overnight, I was at the center of a storm. Before I could even explain, a group of fanatics dragged me up to the roof and shoved me off. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day before the exam.

When I was fifteen, I lent my rabbit’s foot luck to Shawn Crawford. Half a year later, his wealthy parents found him and came to the orphanage to take him home. When I was eighteen, I stopped him from getting involved with the school belle who bullied me. Later, the girl died on the spot in a car accident. Shawn blamed her death entirely on me. He prevented me from taking the college entrance examination and ruined my life. Forced into wandering homelessly, Shawn still refused to spare me. He sealed me inside a coffin and buried me alive. When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn to when I was eighteen years old. This time, I would reclaim what was mine, my rabbit’s foot luck.