เรื่องสั้นแนว Feel-Good Story Campus และนิยายในฉาก Face Slapping

My deskmate, Elaine Jenkins, was the kind of girl who was born with a sharp tongue. She loved nothing more than embarrassing me in front of everyone. When I showed up in a brand-new white shirt, she sneered, "Look at the country boy who finally made it to the city. Are you really that worried people will not realize how hopelessly tacky your taste is?" When I switched to contact lenses, she laughed. "Those eyes look like a dead fish's. Taking off your glasses is not going to magically turn you into a handsome guy." Then I won a prize in the math competition. She just rolled her eyes and said, "Please. Everyone knows he stays up all night grinding through problem sets. He practically worked himself bald just to win that thing." It went on like that until the night of our graduation party. Our homeroom teacher had a little too much to drink and jokingly suggested that Elaine and I should just get together. Of course, she started making snide remarks. "All he does all day is solve math problems. He's about as romantic as a block of wood. Whoever wants to date him can go ahead!" The next second, the aloof top student in our class stood up in front of everyone. "I will!"

An hour before the SATs, our homeroom teacher suddenly had a medical emergency. Before he was rushed away, he handed the folder containing everyone's admission slips to Leo Jordan—the notorious, pretty-boy troublemaker at school. Thirty minutes before check-in closed, he still hadn't shown up. By then, the rest of us were standing outside the exam center, completely freaking out. Without that folder, none of us could get in. I rang his phone until he finally picked up. I begged him to hurry and bring the folder over. Everyone was still waiting for him outside the exam center, after all. He scoffed on the other end. "Just because you're at the top of the class doesn't mean you get to boss me around. I'm getting tattooed right now, and I'm not leaving until it's done." I nearly lost my mind. There was no time to argue. I grabbed a few guys from our class, and we ran nearly two miles to the tattoo store. By the time we got there, the artist was finally finishing the last bit of color on the huge dragon covering Leo's back. I thought, 'Thank God. We can finally grab the folder and go.' Just then, Leo stood up. He unbuckled his belt and yanked his pants down, revealing his hairy legs. "What's the rush?" he said. "We haven't even started on my legs yet." He turned back to the tattoo artist nonchalantly. "Okay, the dragon and tiger are done. The legs are next. Put Bugs Bunny on one leg and Lola Bunny on the other. They're my favorite couple."

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."

With grad school entrance exams (GRE) looming, everyone was stressed out of their minds when Preston Lewis, the class heartthrob, announced that he'd secured a spot that let him skip the written exam entirely. He even promised he could get the same deal for everyone else. The whole class erupted in cheers and immediately launched into an excited debate over which universities they should choose. But something didn't seem right to me. I moved closer for a look and saw that the screen Preston was showing everyone was just an AI chatbot, Novi. I tried to warn them that Novi was only a chatbot, but my girlfriend, Carly Monroe, shoved me before I could finish. "Anders, you're just mad because you've been studying from morning till night while the rest of us haven't worked as hard. You think we don't deserve to get into grad school with you. "Wouldn't it be great if we could go to grad school together? Or are you seriously the kind of boyfriend who can't stand seeing his girlfriend succeed?" Kendra Walsh, our class president, immediately chimed in, "You're just jealous Preston has connections. It makes all those days and nights you spent studying look like a joke. There's no place in this class for someone as bitter as you!" Their words set the entire class off. Everyone started demanding that I be kicked out of the class group chat and that they didn't want me around anymore. They sneered that if I thought I was so capable, I could take the entrance exams on my own instead of relying on them. I could only shake my head. I was capable. I'd already been admitted to grad school. What the hell did I need them for?

It has been seven years since I shadowed Eula Ross like a fawning puppy. Under my dedicated tutoring, she successfully became a top student. But after the SATs scores were released, she casually dropped a single line at a class reunion. “Why don’t you apply for a community college with me? I have to go be with Luke Stetson.” All these years, I have been at her beck and call while granting her every wish. To make her happy, I even humbled myself to the point of slapping myself in front of everyone. Everyone said I was her shadow that she could never shake off. They bet that I would be stuck with Eula for the rest of my life. Right then, our classmates were standing by. They waited to see how me, the valedictorian, would humbly agree. For the first time ever, my expression was cold as I flat-out refused her. “Screw that! You’re the one with a screw loose. I’m not.”

On the day I'm about to quit the game, I see countless live comments flashing across my vision. "Yay! The male supporting lead is about to quit the game!" "Now, the male lead won't have to worry about getting exposed for using the male supporting lead's game account to get into online relationships with others!" "Our darling male lead is too smart, after all! Whenever he goes on dates, he often uses the voice chat function in the game. That's why the male supporting lead is still kept in the dark!" "Holy shit, Henry really is lucky!" "To think that he used Vincent's max-level account to flirt with the four richest female players on the server!" "Later at 2:00 pm, he'll be meeting his first date partner, Yvonne Johnson the cold and aloof campus belle, at Cosmic Coffee!" "Tomorrow, he'll be meeting up with the top assassin in-game! The day after that, he'll go on a date with the second-highest paying player of the game! Wow, his time management skills really are amazing!" The "Henry" whom the live comments are referring to is Henry Luster, my roommate. So, he's been flirting with four of the top-tier rich female players while impersonating me, huh? More live comments streak past my eyes at that moment. "Why isn't the male supporting lead leaving? Yvonne is already waiting for the male lead right now!" "This is their first romantic date as the leads of this story! I can't wait to watch it unfold!" As I turn to look at Henry, who's styling his hair before the mirror, I suddenly realize that I'm the supporting male lead whom the live comments are referring to. My lips curl into a small smile. Since Henry has been using my identity to become a virtual casanova, then it's not wrong of me to attend each date in person on his behalf, right?

The whole school knows me as the vapid school belle who's nothing but a pretty face. During homeroom, I'm busy curling my bangs. Between classes, I'm busy reapplying sunscreen. If my uniform has even one wrinkle, I refuse to wear it. If my backpack feels too heavy, I refuse to carry it. Even during monthly exams, I apply lip gloss first, then wait for the final bell to turn in a blank paper. The top student in our grade, Sasha Lane, can't stand me. She often mocks, "Being pretty does nothing for you if you never apply yourself in your studies. On a real exam, you'd probably worry more about fixing your makeup than reading the questions." Then the National Scholastic League kicks off, and the school's foundation gives us an ultimatum. My high school, Greenwood High School, has come in second place in the league ten years in a row. If we don't win the championship this time, the foundation will pull out, and all 2,000 students will be out of a school. The catch is, the league requires every school's final team member to be picked at random. And this time, they pick me. The moment word gets out, the students at the neighboring Brookstone High School lose it. "They're actually sending the airhead who turns in blank tests? Greenwood might as well shut down now." In the final round, Brookstone takes nine questions in a row. Greenwood's three strongest competitors are eliminated one after another. Sasha fills three pages of scratch work and still can't crack the final ten challenge problems. There are only 30 seconds to go. The principal grips the school's charter so tightly that his knuckles have gone white, and the teachers look ready to panic. Brookstone's team captain can't resist taking a shot. "Greenwood still has a beauty queen, right? Send her up. At least you'll lose with a pretty face onstage." The whole auditorium bursts into laughter. The noise gives me a headache, so I put down my lip gloss, take the buzzer, and tap in a few answers. A second later, the system starts chiming nonstop. The scoreboard goes wild, and the lights for all ten questions turn green. We get a perfect score.

My dormmate falls in the dorm and sends the rest of us the hospital bill. She wants us to compensate her. "I only fell because you guys left a puddle of water at the door. It's only right that you compensate me, don't you think? It's not much—you each just have to give me a thousand dollars to cover the checkup, medication, transport, the classes I missed, and the mental distress I suffered." I exchange looks with my two other dormmates. All three of us politely decline. That's when she goes berserk. She screeches threateningly, "Do you know who my father is? I'll make sure you guys can't graduate if you don't compensate me!"

I'm the school's most dedicated last-place student. When Hannah Cole, a scholarship student from a poor family who has never dropped from the top of the grade, transfers to our school, I'm studying vocabulary. When she stands up to the school bully, Jamie Murphy, in front of everyone and says, "So what if you're rich?" I'm studying vocabulary. When Jamie goes from constantly picking on her to bringing her breakfast every morning, I'm still studying vocabulary. After all, my dad is an academician, and all six of my brothers have graduated from top universities. They never expect me to excel academically. Instead, they always ask, "Sweetheart, did you have fun at school today?" But I refuse to give up. The worse I am at school, the harder I study. Then the National Language Competition results come out. Hannah only places second nationally. With tears in her eyes, she points at me. "Did you mess up my headphones? You'll do anything to get first place. That's pathetic!" Jamie kicks over my desk, and even my homeroom teacher, Ms. Lucy Gilbert, forces me to apologize to her. I pull up the competition rankings. Well, I do come in first—just from the bottom.

On the day of the SAT exam, my girlfriend, Heidi Moore, makes the entire class stay with her and wait for her childhood friend, Jeffrey Price, who's running late. But it's less than an hour before the exam starts. If they keep waiting for Jeffrey, they will definitely miss the exam. In my previous lifetime, I played my part as the class president by advising everyone to take the exam first. But all I received was their scolding. "You're just jealous that Jeffrey and Heidi are extremely close friends! That's why you want to ditch Jeffrey so that he can miss the exam, huh?" I could only stand in the pouring rain while begging my classmates relentlessly. Only then did everyone leave for the exam venue reluctantly. In the end, we were able to arrive at the exam venue one minute before the exam started. But after the exam was over, I was pushed off a building by Jeffrey, which caused my death. However, Heidi and the rest of my classmates gave the police their fake testimonies. "Finley caused Jeffrey to miss the exam. That's why he killed himself out of guilt!" Jeffrey even used the opportunity to sell his sob story and become a popular influencer. Mom tried to seek justice for me, only to get cyberbullied by the Internet users, who were blind to the truth. Dazed and disoriented, she drove off a cliff, and her body was nowhere to be found since then. Only after I died did I realize that this was just a part of Jeffrey's scheme. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Heidi tells the entire class to wait for Jeffrey before departing to the exam venue together. In this lifetime, I won't stop my ungrateful classmates from ruining their own lives.

After the holiday, the student council president assigns me the task of mentoring a freshman named Mona Leach. I text her to discuss the task at hand, but she ignores my messages. When she finally replies to me, her words are scathing. "I'm a freshman, but that doesn't mean you can harass me just because you're my senior. I have a boyfriend." Just as I'm wondering how she even got the idea that I'm interested in her, I see her complaining in the student council group chat. She writes, "Just because he's a senior doesn't mean he can harass a freshman. I already told him I have a boyfriend, but he keeps bothering me. I barely started my freshman year, and I have to deal with such disgusting behavior. This is going to traumatize me." What's this about me harassing her? My family has billions in assets that I'll inherit sooner or later. Heiresses from other wealthy families are lining up to marry me. Why would I ever need to harass her?

After the SAT scores were released, Sean White threw a lavish graduation party. He was the most popular guy at school and had been on financial aid. That night, I got a text saying my credit card had been maxed out. I went to confront Sean. Instead, I found him standing next to my girlfriend, Janine Slater, looking like he was about to cry. "Just because I'm on financial aid, does that mean I can't hold a graduation party?" he asked. Janine rushed to comfort him, then turned on me. "Your family has plenty of money. Spending a little on Sean isn't going to hurt you," she said. Sure, my family was wealthy, but that didn't make me a charity case. Why should I pay for him? I refused to back down and called the police to get my money back. However, Janine retaliated by sabotaging my family's company, pushing it to the brink of bankruptcy. While I was on my way to meet with investors, Janine and Sean plotted together and ran me over. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of Sean's graduation party.

Everyone at Bayport High knew I had a weakness for hot guys. Nolan Caldwell was the hottest. I'd been top of my class for years. Then I stopped studying and ditched school for him. We spent all night gaming and hitting clubs. I even let him talk me into skipping the SAT. When someone posted a school poll—[Who would throw away their future for love?]—I won by a landslide. Everyone said I was nuts to tank my future over a guy. I just smiled. "Nolan wants to be part of my future. "Once he's done partying, I'll help him get into Westbridge U." Besides, a month before the SAT, Westbridge was already reviewing my application through a special admissions process. I didn't need an SAT score. But when SAT scores came out, I went to tell Nolan I'd gotten into Westbridge anyway. Before I could say a word, he smirked. Bounced the basketball twice. Then leaned in, his voice low and cold against my ear. "Idiot."

I was the dorm leader for two years in college, so I handled all the dirty work in our room. That was until a beautiful dance major moved in. "You guys are so naive. Do you really think Yelena is just being nice? The student handbook clearly says that the dorm leader will get brownie points for their graduate school recommendations if a dorm is ranked as outstanding for three years in a row. "I can't imagine how high her GPA is compared to yours!" As I watched my roommates' expressions shift from realization to contempt, the campus belle looked around and clapped her hands as she exclaimed, "Now that I'm here, I won't let this unfairness continue. "We'll take turns being dorm leaders from now on. I'll make a new duty schedule so everyone gets a chance to earn those extra points!" I slumped back in my chair with relief upon hearing her words. Good Lord, finally! Truth be told, I was sick of forcing myself to clean up the disgusting mess those overgrown babies left behind every single day. Whoever wanted this lousy job could have it for all I cared!

In the final minute before the exam, my childhood friend, the one who was supposed to bring both of our exam documents, handed in only his own admission ticket. When it was my turn, his hands were empty. He said matter-of-factly, “Your exam ticket and ID aren’t here. Skip a subject and give your Cornell slot to Summer.” I froze. I couldn’t believe he would sabotage my college exam just to help Summer. Summer Hayes was the class beauty, but my grades had consistently outshined hers throughout high school. I looked at the boy I had known for eighteen years. Anger and disbelief bubbled up, making me laugh bitterly. Then I turned and walked away. Behind me, Jason Turner shouted, exasperated. “You are so good at school. So what if you repeat a year? “And now you are skipping the exam on a whim. How will that make Summer look? Are you really letting everyone think she forced you?” I didn’t even glance back. Skipping the exam on a whim. He had no idea. Two weeks ago, I had already secured an Early Admission spot in Harvard’s Physics Talent Program. Coming to the college entrance exam today was just a gesture of our eighteen-year friendship, going through the motions with him. Since he didn’t care, that friendship ended here.

Right after my exchange program interview, I become the center of a campus scandal. The headline is brutal. "Top Student Caught Getting Into a Rich Woman's Bentley Late At Night. Did He Earn His Exchange Spot or Sleep His Way Into It?" The post includes a 12-second clip of a middle-aged woman stepping out of a Bentley and opening the door for me. Mark Stone, the campus heartthrob, wastes no time spreading rumors that I'm a sugar baby and that I stole his spot in the exchange program by sleeping my way to the top. Bruce Jagger, my academic advisor, pressures me to give up my spot. Hugo Lawson, my roommate, even packs up and moves out overnight. But Mark isn't done. He publicly challenges me to bring the woman to campus and face him head-on. So, I make one phone call and summon the very woman he's accusing me of sleeping with to come to campus. Everyone expects me to get exposed in front of the whole school. Instead, the woman walks up to me and addresses me respectfully in front of the entire crowd. "Mr. Durham, you called for me?"

As the top student in the state mock exams, I am accused of cheating. Witnesses, evidence, and chat logs are perfectly lined up against me. In the end, my exam scores are voided, and my dreams of enrolling in an elite university shatter. Dad suffers a stroke from rage, and Mom begs the school on her knees, but nothing changes. In despair, I swallow an entire bottle of sleeping pills, then open my eyes to find myself back seven days before the . In the class group chat, my so-called best friend, Sabrina Collins, is working the room. I stare at her messages for three seconds, turn off my phone, and pull up a new line. Then, I make a call to the academic affairs office. "I'll sign the guaranteed admission letter right now, Ms. Hudson." On the day of the college entrance exam, every student races to finish their papers in the examination hall, while I'm in a university laboratory over 125 miles away, watched over by a professor, three graduate students, and four security cameras. Sure enough, the whistleblower letter arrives right on schedule. But when the investigation team storms into the building, the head of academic affairs, Edith Hudson, slams my attendance sheet onto the desk. "She didn't set foot in the examination hall. How was she supposed to cheat?"

It was the accolades for the school's top ten students. I had just gone onto the stage when the screen turned black. Soon, dozens of snapshots appeared. Snapshots of chat history that sounded like a seedy deal was going on. The whole campus was in an uproar. I was the one who sent the texts, and the recipient was the valedictorian and the campus' most handsome guy, who was sitting in the first row. He was Blake Landton, a junior in finance. "I'm out of money. Gimme 5,000." "I'm sleeping at your place tonight. Don't lock the door." "If you won't give me money, I'll hound you every day until your reputation is ruined." The faculty belle charged up the stage with a mic in hand. She jabbed a finger at me and announced righteously, "See? Yvonne's not some innocent top student. She's just a gold digger who harasses and extorts Blake for money! Someone this shameless doesn't deserve this prize!" Everyone under the stage shot me disdainful looks, and the school's top brass looked displeased. The She's shared her food with me several times. belle looked at me smugly. "Blake's too kind to call the cops, but you must reflect on your gold-digging in front of us right now!" I stared at the out-of-context texts and held my forehead. Blake was my grandmother's son. She had him at an advanced age, which meant that he was my uncle. So, it also meant that I could stay the night at my uncle's place and shake some money out of him. That right there was a niece's privilege, and it didn't make me a gold digger.

When the names for the overseas study placements were announced, my boyfriend's childhood sweetheart Jenna Lane grabbed me in front of the entire class and refused to let go. Her eyes were red as she said, "Ruby, who do you think you are? How could someone with that worthless brain of yours have scored higher than me without finding out the exam questions beforehand? Two years ago, you stole my boyfriend. And now, you've stolen my spot for studying overseas too? You're nothing but trash!" Faced with her accusations, I instinctively shook my head in denial. With tears in her eyes, she continued indignantly. "A thief would never admit to being one! I have irrefutable proof that you cheated! Trash like you thinks she deserves to go abroad? Don't go overseas and disgrace our country!" My boyfriend Fred White stood behind Jenna with a dark expression. "No wonder you said you would definitely rank first on exam day. To think you would do something this despicable... Disgusting! Absolutely disgusting! Give the placement back to Jenna right now!" The entire class and our teachers watched coldly, condemning me for academic misconduct. "I knew she wasn't a good person from the very beginning..." "She stole someone's boyfriend and then the placement? She's rotten to the core!" "Trash like her should be expelled!" I stood there, finding the entire situation utterly absurd. I did what now? How could someone who had never even entered the examination room have cheated?

After the Ritualist declared that Amber would not live past 18, I, a perfectly healthy girl, became the Misfortune Vessel. When Amber broke a leg, my left leg was crippled. When Amber tried to kill herself with shards of glass, the tendons in my hand were severed. I could no longer hold a pen. From childhood to the present, every wound meant for Amber landed on my body. She never stopped testing how far she could go. Skydiving from two miles up. Chasing sharks in deep water. Survival expeditions to the extreme North. Every choice courted death. I cried. I screamed that it hurt. My brothers refused to allow it. "Enough already. It's just a small injury. How could it hurt that much? You're too delicate." "If it hurts, then endure it." So I endured until the day I turned 18. That was when the Shared-Sense System found me. I enabled family sharing, and every single one of them went insane.