Inspirational Campus Short Stories & Novels

On the day of the SAT exam, my girlfriend’s childhood friend, Benedict Casper, forgot his admission ticket at home. She insisted on retrieving it for him, but I begged her not to go. In the end, Benedict missed his final chance for taking the exam and, overwhelmed by despair, he jumped to his death. Years later, my girlfriend, Ella Simpson, and I graduated from Whitmore Institute of Technology, landed high-paying jobs, and built a picture-perfect marriage. But on the anniversary of Benedict’s death, she stabbed me repeatedly, her voice trembling with rage, “You killed him. If I’d gotten his admission ticket, he would’ve never jumped.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the exams. Ella’s frantic voice rang in my ears, “I have to go back, Dominic. I need to get Benedict’s ticket!” This time, I smiled and said, “Go ahead. Be careful on the way.”

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?"

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'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.

All because of Leo Cullen’s words, I gave up a place at a top-tier university in Ceres and stayed behind to retake the entrance exams with him—three times. By the fourth year, a girl arrived at our cram school, and Leo forgot the promise we made. He started skipping class, picking fights, smoking—doing everything but studying. One day, I stood at the school gate, blocking his path with a textbook in hand as he tried to ditch class. He smirked, unimpressed, and blew a bubble with his gum, letting it stick to the ends of my hair. “Naomi…,” he began, “who still cares about studying these days?” So I stopped caring and avoided him entirely. When he fooled around in the classroom, I went to the library. When he played basketball, I sat in a quiet corner with my books. Even when I craved noodles from my favorite shop, I’d scan the room first to make sure he wasn’t there. “Are you avoiding me, Naomi?” he asked later, his face in a frown. I shook my head. “Why would you think that?”

One month before the college entrance exam, I ask my childhood friend, Nicholas Lund, about a test question I don't know how to answer. He doesn't even let me into the house. Instead, he casually sends me a link to a cheap online tutor. "I hired you an online tutor. It's only 20 bucks for the next 30 days." I am stunned for several beats, but a moment later, he sends me another message. "Marissa, do you know that everyone is saying you're like a piece of gum attached to my shoe? Stop bothering me with all these stupid questions. How are you going to bear the responsibility for disturbing my and Hails' revision time?" When I lift my head, I happen to spot the school belle, Hailey Lane, sitting at his desk. His jacket is draped over her shoulders as she munches on some apple slices he prepared for her. Instead of kicking up a fuss, I calmly tap on the link and add the tutor's contact number. "How do I solve this question?" The other party's response is immediate. "Do it systematically. First, take a look at the conditions. Don't rush it. I'll walk you through it step by step." Ten minutes later, I stare at the ridiculously detailed explanation filling my screen and fall into a thoughtful silence. How is it that a cheap online tutor was better at explaining how to solve a problem than our entire year's top student?

I was like the pure and innocent Cinderella of a school romance novel. Unlike the aristocratic students around me, I didn't come from wealth or privilege. I earned my place at this elite academy through merit alone, my high scores opening the gates to a world far beyond my means. Cinderella is supposed to be stubborn, proud, and righteous—standing tall despite her humble origins. But I have none of those qualities. All I have is poverty.