Cerita Pendek & Novel Feel-Good Story Campus

At the university awards ceremony, the campus belle, Vanessa Byer, puts the bank transfers I've received from the four Sterling brothers on full display, totaling eight million dollars in just one year. The entire auditorium erupts. She hangs a sign reading "Campus Gold Digger of the Year" around my neck, then has her friends scatter fake money across the floor and throw a dog leash at me. "You love money so much, don't you? Get on your knees and crawl like a dog. Whatever you manage to pick up, I'll have the Sterlings pay you that much." I don't budge. Vanessa clips the leash to the collar around my neck and kicks me in the back of the knee. "Who are you trying to fool with that innocent act? I bet you spend plenty of time on your knees when you're earning money in the Sterling brothers' beds." She grinds her heel into my hand and waves her phone in my face with a smug smile. "I've already sent Mr. Sterling a list of every dollar you've taken. Once he gets here, we'll see if a leech like you can even walk out of this place on your own two feet." I stare at the total on the big screen and rub my forehead. Hold on. Those four brats have only given me eight million dollars between them all year. If Gary Sterling finds out, I have a feeling they'll be the ones getting an earful.

I start dating Samuel Nelson, who's known for being a playboy. Everyone thinks I'm hopelessly in love with him. When he skips class to fight, I take notes for him. When he flirts with others, I cover for him. I spent three years as the pushover who grovels at his feet. I pour my heart and soul into helping him get into a top college, but just before the semester starts, he dumps me. He says haughtily, "I know you've liked me for a long time, but you always have your head buried in books. Compared to Anna, you're far too dull and uptight. "Let's break up. I want to be with Anna instead." Everyone waits to see me have an emotional meltdown. However, I simply check the 50 million that has been transferred to my bank account and reply earnestly, "Sure. I wish you two the best." No one knows that I only devoted myself fully to being Samuel's girlfriend because his mother offered me far too much money to refuse. Now that I have the money, even if he didn't dump me, I would've dumped him myself.

During my senior year of high school, my grades are completely erratic. I can ace three subjects while completely bombing the other three, leaving me dead last in my class. My homeroom teacher, Janet Bennett, throws me and my backpack out of the classroom. A classmate waves my report card around as the rest of the class laughs. "You're a total loser. You even failed your language test. Even a factory wouldn't hire you." The next day, my homeroom teacher throws out the student ranking second to last, Ethan Hoppe, as well. "One bad apple spoils the whole bunch. And somehow, our class has two of them. You think the college entrance exam is only going to test what you're good at? You two can rot together for all I care. Just don't drag everyone else down with you!" My eyes light up. I finally found someone who gets me. We compare our report cards and realize our combined strengths put us way ahead of the school's top students. Someone with uneven grades is a loser. But put us together? We're basically unbeatable. I throw an arm around my new deskmate. "Ethan, how about we aim for first place?"

My roommate had a strange obsession with taking cold showers on the balcony. She claimed it helped detox her body and brightened her skin. I warned her, “You should be more mindful of your privacy.” However, she only laughed, accusing me of being jealous of her flawless figure. Then, disaster struck. Her shower photos were leaked online, and soon after, thugs showed up at our door, demanding to humiliate her. Instead of taking responsibility, she turned on me. “It’s her! She’s the shameless one showering on the balcony!” Betrayed and defenseless, I was dragged into the woods and left to die, my life snuffed out in humiliation and pain. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back on that fateful day—the day my roommate took her first cold shower on the balcony.

During the weekend, while I'm working part-time at a coffee shop, a sudden spell of low blood sugar causes me to pass out. The shop owner, Malcolm Heywood, hands me a coffee that's worth 5 dollars and gently reminds me not to push myself so hard. But Brooke Rulin, the class queen bee, takes a photo of me holding that coffee and posts it in the class group chat. [Wow! Look at Patty, who's on the college's financial aid list, leisurely sipping coffee at a coffee shop! Even I wouldn't dare to set foot inside a place like that. I can't believe I've seen her here every single day this past month.] Instantly, the group chat explodes. [No way! She's pretending to be poor to scam financial aid!] [How dare she? She took a spot meant for someone who actually needs the money!] [Revoke her financial aid! Make her pay every penny back!] Even my academic advisor, Tanner Rickshaw, sends me a private message. [Patty, this is atrocious behavior! You'd better explain yourself!] I stare at the coffee in my hand, completely dumbfounded. This cup of coffee is just a freebie from my boss, all because I have low blood sugar!

The night before term began, my so-called best friend, Wendy Shaw, posted a challenge on the university confession wall. "If this post gets 1,000 likes, our 220-pound campus belle will hand a love letter to the untouchable Jonathan Riverson during orientation tomorrow—in front of everyone!" She paired the post with a hideous photo of me taken back in high school. In it, I was wearing an oversized uniform, my face round enough to show more than one chin. The comments exploded almost immediately. "You want her to give Jonathan a love letter? What'd he ever do to deserve this?" "Goddamn, Wendy. Now the whole campus is forced to watch an elephant walk." Wendy was right there in the comments, encouraging them. "Keep the likes coming! Emilia's a brave girl!" She then texted me, saying it was just to train my courage. I stood before a full-length mirror, staring at my defined abs and sharp jawline, and I sneered. No one knew I had spent the last year working out like mad, and I had lost most of the extra weight. Now I was just over a hundred pounds. The post had 999 likes. I smiled. Then, I tapped the heart and gave it the thousandth. After that, I logged into my main account and left a comment beneath Wendy's post. "Save yourself the trouble. I'll deliver the love letter tomorrow myself."

Cosmo Finch, the class president, announces in the group chat that the graduation dinner is being held at 6:00 pm. I arrive at the restaurant ten minutes early and wait outside the private dining room, only for him to stop me and shove a payment QR code in my face. "You're the last one in the class to arrive. Now, transfer me 300 dollars if you want to get in!" I'm baffled. "Didn't you tell us it starts at 6:00 pm? It's only 5:50 pm. How am I late?" Cosmo rolls his eyes and sneers, "Everyone else arrived an hour early to toast our advisor. You're the only one who shows up on the dot. Do you have no sense of team spirit? If you don't want to pay your share, leave!" Not wanting to make a scene at our last college get-together, I transfer the money with a cold expression and push open the door to the private dining room. However, the moment I step inside, my classmates are already putting on their coats and getting ready to leave. I take in all the sparkling-clean plates on the table, not quite processing what I'm seeing. Cosmo calls out from behind, "Everyone, grab your belongings. It's time to hit the speakeasy bar! Kieran, since you showed up last, the rest of the bill is on you!"

My roommate beamed with pride as she told me a horrifying secret: she had allowed a wealthy businessman to "remove" her unborn child, claiming he absorbed the baby’s fortune in exchange for a hefty payout. Chills ran down my spine. I urged her to stop meddling with such dark dealings before it destroyed her, but she wouldn’t listen. Instead, she threw herself into it, addicted to helping people "transfer luck" for money. Her luck ran out when she contracted a mysterious disease. When her boyfriend found out, she turned on me, tearfully accusing me of tying her to another man’s bed. Before I could even defend myself, an enraged man ran me down with his car. The next thing I knew, I woke up to find myself back in time. My roommate was leaning in close, her eyes glinting with excitement as she whispered, asking if I wanted to join her "luck transfer" schemes. This time, I wasn’t taking any chances. I noticed the slight swell of her belly and immediately sent a text to her boyfriend: "Congrats! You’re going to be a dad!"

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 get released, everyone in the advanced class hits the 1,400 threshold. The campus heartthrob, Luke Gilbert, recommends the latest AI college application app that is developed by his dad's company to make it easier for everyone. I pull Keyla Simmons, the class president, over and warn her that the risks that come with using an AI application app are far too high. On top of that, there are deadly flaws within the app that can lead to the students getting rejected by their dream colleges. But Keyla responds by hurling a high heel in my face. All of my classmates surround me and begin mocking me relentlessly. "Justin, you're just worried that everyone will get into better courses once they used the AI app to apply for their colleges!" "Heh! If you have a crush on Keyla, then just say it out loud! There's no need to play the jealousy card and throw a tantrum just to ruin everyone's future! Besides, look at how haggard you are right now! You can barely hold a candle to Luke, our campus heartthrob! Haha!" I'm so pissed that my asthma attack gets triggered on the spot. For the sake of everyone's future, I can only escalate things to the point that the education department gets involved. Only then can I stop everyone from using the app. Unexpectedly, on the day I receive my college acceptance letter, a bunch of convicts, who have escaped from prison, vandalize the bookstore that my family owns. Those bastards even violate me and my younger brother in front of our parents. At the same time, they keep gushing about how doing it with a guy feels way more satisfying. Then, they kill our parents in cold blood right in front of our eyes. In the end, they set the entire bookstore on fire, ultimately burning us into ashes. What's worse is that this terrible incident doesn't get reported at all. Instead, my classmates slander me for having illicit relations with outsiders when I was still a high schooler. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Luke suggests that everyone use the AI college application app. This time, I don't bother stopping them. Instead, I'm the first one to agree with Luke. "Humans have to adapt to the growing trends. AI is definitely more professional than humans."

My dormmate, Mona Joyce, is notorious for always enabling her younger brother, Matthew Joyce. For Matthew's sake, she lives on bread and water just so she can send all her side income back home to him. Everyone says that she has it rough and has been dealt a bad hand by fate. Yet, she only ever steals from me, not anyone else. She stole my skincare products and gave them to Matthew's girlfriend. She stole my tablet so that Matthew could use it for his university entrance exam. Every time she was discovered, she would cry her heart out. In my past life, everyone would advise me to be the bigger person every time I wanted to make a police report. "You're doing well for yourself, so what's wrong with letting her use it for a bit?" "It's not as if you're unaware of her family situation." "Hasn't she already returned it to you?" "It won't do anyone any good to make a big deal out of this. It'll only impact our school's reputation." So, I let things slide. Later, one day before my thesis defense, she stole my flash drive. With only two hours remaining before my thesis defense, I tearfully begged her to return it to me. She told me that Matthew, assuming it was an ordinary flash drive, had formatted it. My graduation was deferred, causing me to have a breakdown and call the police. However, Mona and her entire family cornered me at the school entrance. Her mother, Karen Pratt, accused me of ruining Matthew's future. When I next opened my eyes, I had returned to the day Mona first stole my money. This time, I'm done arguing with her. I simply placed a purse belonging to one of my incredibly "magnanimous" dormmates in my drawer with a smile.

The day before the semester began, my childhood friend Daniel Carter asked if he could borrow my private jet. Thinking he'd finally changed his ways, I agreed without a second thought. A moment later, he transferred a single dollar, calling it rent because he couldn't stand the thought of freeloading. The quirky amount said more than words ever could. I smiled and accepted it. On the first day of school, I kept things low-key, taking a cab back to campus. But when I arrived, there it was, my private jet parked right in the middle of the quad. The jet had been decked out in bubblegum pink, and students crowded around, their eyes shining with envy. My heart leapt. For once, I thought Daniel had finally figured it out. Beaming, I braced myself for his surprise. But as I drew closer, my smile froze. Sitting barefoot in the pilot's seat, my seat, was Clara West, the campus' queen bee.

My best friend, Natalie Grey, was the most famous pushover class president in the entire management department. When classmates didn't pay their class dues, she covered them out of her own pocket. When people sent her on errands and dumped grunt work on her, she kept her head down and did every bit of it. When someone got written up and pinned the blame on her, she quietly took the fall. I, on the other hand, breathed a sigh of relief and told her to keep it up. Because deep down, Natalie was a little hellion. Emotionally detached and born with a screw loose, she was the kind of person who would actually take a knife to someone in real life. When we were kids, a boy from our town picked on me. Natalie pinned him to the ground and beat him so badly it took three or four grown-ups to drag her off. He ended up in the hospital for three days. Natalie climbed a drainpipe up to his fifth-floor room and yanked out his oxygen tube. He was so scared that his family moved away the very next day. I was terrified she would one day do something she couldn't take back, so I poured everything I had into training her to be sweet and docile. Then Selena Morrison, the department's it-girl, moved into my dorm room. She made me pick up her meals and fetch her packages, but she never paid me a single cent. Every time we split a bill, she made a point of rounding her share down. With no money left for food, I lost thirty-three pounds. When I finally tried to stop picking up her meals, Selena went straight online and posted that I was jealous of her and out to get her. Suddenly, every guy in the school had it out for me. My bike, parked outside the dorm, got smashed to pieces. My food deliveries kept disappearing the moment they arrived. One day, as I stood helplessly over yet another takeout order splattered across the ground, Selena looked at me with a smile. "Come on, be a good girl. Being my servant is an honor..." There was a loud bang. Before Selena could even finish her sentence, she went flying half a mile. I snapped my head up. Natalie was walking toward me, her face dark...

I break up with my childhood sweetheart, Daphne Hogan, right outside my dorm. She doesn't even look up from her phone. "Just because I ditched you for him at dinner the other night?" "Yes." Daphne figures I'm just throwing a tantrum. Her fingers fly across her screen as she replies to a freshman's texts. Whatever message he sends makes her rush off. Before leaving, she gives me a fond, exasperated sigh. "Don't be silly. Get some sleep tonight. You have a hiking drill tomorrow. I'll be there." Daphne walks away without looking back, completely missing the finality in my eyes. It's time to put an end to this childhood romance.

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.

At the National High School Football All-Star Game, my boyfriend Evan had just been named MVP. Sophia, the cheer captain, immediately posted on Instagram. Caption: "Guess who got a little something from the champion himself~" The photo turned out to be a pair of Evan's worn underwear! Scrawled across them in lipstick were the words: "For my dearest Sophia." She held them up with her long acrylic nails, pouting for the selfie. The internet exploded. "Why does she have his underwear?" "Isn't it obvious? They're totally together." "Sitting here waiting for the official couple photo." Within seconds, a close-up of the two of them cheek-to-cheek surfaced in the comments. Congratulations and teasing flooded the feed. I gripped my phone, a chill spreading through my entire body. Evan had promised to go public about us ages ago but kept putting it off, saying he needed to prove himself first. He'd been stalling ever since. Now here I was, his actual girlfriend, and I didn't even get an invite to his victory party. I took a deep breath and called him. "Explain." On the other end, Evan's voice was lazy, almost amused. "The fans grabbed everything off me. Jersey, pads, all of it. Sophia insisted on keeping something as a souvenir, so I gave her the underwear. No big deal." "The Instagram post is just riding the hype. Don't be so uptight about it." Then Sophia's voice chimed in. "Yeah, honey, Evan and I are like brothers! I've seen everything on him already. It's just a pair of boxers, so don't be so petty." I listened to their increasingly flirtatious banter through the speaker, then slowly pulled off my engagement ring and tossed it aside. "Fine," I said to Evan. "I'll be the bigger person. Why don't you skip the 'girl bro' thing and just make her your girlfriend? I'm tired of watching this act."

My boyfriend, Joshua Carter, my best friend, Alanna Hayes, and I agree to apply to Lakehaven University together. But on the first day of college, I don't see a trace of either of them. I stand outside the university gates under the scorching summer sun, my clothes soaked through with sweat. Then Alanna video calls me. With her hands clasped together and her eyes red-rimmed, she says, "I'm sorry, Clary! It was because I suddenly wanted to go to Bellmere University instead that I changed my college application. I heard they have really luxurious dorms!" Joshua, sitting next to Alanna, speaks casually as if nothing is wrong. "College applications were about to close when Alanna decided on the change, so we only had time to change our own applications." As he speaks, Joshua spears a piece of beef with his fork and feeds it to Alanna. "Why are you crying? It's not like we'll never see each other again. Bellmere isn't that far from Lakehaven. It's only a three-hour train ride away. We can still see each other every month." Alanna pauses, bites down on the piece of beef, and mutters, "Clary, I swear you're the only one who can put up with this grumpy jerk for so long. From now on, I'll help you whip him into shape!" Joshua chuckles and pinches her cheek. "Hah! You? We'll see who ends up whipping the other into shape." I stand frozen. The summer sun is scorching, yet I suddenly feel as though I've been plunged into a frozen wasteland. Joshua is a huge clean freak, so he makes me wash my hands before touching his things, and whenever I serve him food, he makes sure I use serving utensils. But he can feed Alanna with his fork, and even reach out to pinch her cheek. So that's how it is—his obsession with cleanliness only applies to certain people. Suddenly, I feel like there's no point in any of this anymore. If they don't want me around, then I'll leave.

As a man, if I had one fatal flaw, it would be that I cared a lot about my pride. When I fell off my bike as a kid, I'd get right back up on my feet immediately, wincing through the pain while acting completely fine, terrified that someone might laugh at me. Whenever my mom hired a cleaner to clean the house, I'd spend two hours beforehand sweating bullets scrubbing the place down myself, terrified the maid would see a messy house and laugh at me. Once I started school, it got even worse. If someone else took one advanced tutoring class, I'd sign up for eight. During the day, I'd brag that I never opened a textbook, but at night, I'd secretly grind until dawn—and I was top in my grade every single time. There was no helping it; I was just terrified of getting bad grades and being laughed at. When high school graduation rolled around, I saw all my friends start dating. So, I bit the bullet, asked out the prettiest, smartest girl in our class, and managed to win her over. After all, if my partner turned out to be ugly or dumb, people would laugh at me. Later on, we both got accepted into the same university. However, not long after the semester started, she began getting closer and closer to the popular guy in our school. Whenever people teased them about being a couple, she would neither confirm nor deny it. She would merely smile. "Stop teasing us, guys. Jonas hasn't said anything about it yet." That very night, I broke up with her.

The day we submitted our college applications, the school beauty, Hayley Law, suggested we all go rafting to unwind. Every single person in class raised their hand in agreement. In my previous life, as the class monitor, I did everything I could to stop them. Wild rafting was far too dangerous. Without any safety measures in place, accidents could easily happen. In the end, everyone made it back safely and got into the colleges they wanted. But before the semester even started, news came that Hayley had gone rafting alone, slipped into the water, and drowned. When Terry Vargas, my boyfriend and the most popular guy in school, heard what happened, he took the lead in organizing a memorial at sea. Then, when the waves were at their worst, he shoved me into the ocean. Later, when the police questioned them, they all told the same story as if they had planned it. "Katrina insisted on a sea burial for Hayley. During the storm, she got swept away by the waves and disappeared." They even produced fake evidence to clear Terry's name. My parents were shattered. They went to Terry again and again, desperate for the truth, but he had them set up and locked away in a mental institution, where they were tormented to death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Hayley first suggested the rafting trip. I stood there quietly, watching my classmates pile into the bus she had rented, heading off to that same reckless trip. This time, I would just look out for myself.

I have always had an almost pathological sense of paranoia. Ever since I was a child, I was convinced that the people around me were out to get me. Back in elementary school, when everyone was lining up for their student ID photos, I flatly refused to have mine taken. I insisted that the district office was going to use my picture for identity theft. The situation escalated so badly that the principal had to personally sit me down and spend half an hour trying to convince me otherwise. Then, there was the fingerprint registration system in middle school. The school required every student to submit their fingerprints to access the campus buildings. I was so terrified that someone would steal my biometric data that I literally rubbed the skin off all ten fingertips to make them unreadable. Even when my fingers were bleeding, I kept shouting that they were trying to steal my identity. I would rather climb over the school fence every day than cooperate. Every relative I had called me crazy. My parents were so fed up that they seriously considered having me admitted to a psychiatric hospital. I did not care. I guarded my privacy with obsessive determination, gritting my teeth and holding my ground all the way up to the eve of the final exams. Then came the day before the exam. That afternoon, our homeroom teacher, Tracy Collins, walked into the classroom carrying a metal lockbox. A warm, motherly smile spread across her face as she set it down on the desk. "Everyone," she said, "to make sure nobody forgets their documents tomorrow, I'd like you to hand over your IDs and exam admission slips for safekeeping tonight." She patted the lockbox reassuringly. "Tomorrow morning, I'll personally return them to each of you outside the testing center. This way, there's absolutely nothing that can go wrong." The class was deeply moved by her thoughtfulness. Some students even looked close to tears as they eagerly pulled out their documents and lined up to hand them over. Everyone except me. My hand clamped down over my pocket so tightly that my knuckles turned white. Cold sweat poured down my back. A sharp alarm bell was ringing in my head. Trying not to attract attention, I fished out a spare flip phone from my bag, ducked beneath my desk, and dialed emergency services. As soon as the call connected, I lowered my voice and spoke into the receiver. "Hello. I'd like to report a crime. My name is Charles. "I believe a teacher at St. Alden High is working with an identity-fraud ring and is planning a large-scale operation tonight involving examination fraud and identity theft."