Plot Twists Campus Short Stories & Novels

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."

Jenny Shaw, my roommate and belle of the campus, had been stealing my skincare products for four whole years. She even used them to fake a wealthy and beautiful persona, becoming a million-follower influencer and bagging a wealthy heir. Right before our graduation defense, her face suddenly erupted in severe lesions, completely disfigured. Jenny immediately accused me, claiming that I was jealous and vicious enough to lace the skincare products with poison! In an instant, I was branded online as the Poison Queen and a dangerous figure. Facing the police, I simply smiled at them and showed them my thesis. [Molecular Deconstruction Analysis of Herbal Medicinal Materials: Skin Regeneration and Reconstruction.] "Poisoning you? That's like a pot calling the kettle black. But thanks for providing me with experimental data!"

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 became the ultimate simp for Shannon Seay, the school's notorious flirt, and everyone assumed I was head over heels for her. When she skipped classes to pick fights or chase thrills, I'd copy notes and homework for her. When she tangled in ambiguous flings with other guys, I'd provide alibis to cover her tracks. For three grueling years, I poured my heart and soul into transforming her into an academic star, securing her spot at a top university. But right before orientation, she dumped me. Towering over me, she declared, "I know you've had a crush on me forever, but you're all books and no spark. Compared to Hunter, you're too rigid. We're done. I'm with him now." The crowd held its breath, anticipating my meltdown. I peeked at my phone, confirming a $50-million transfer, and replied with genuine nonchalance, "Alright, congrats." No one knew my unwavering devotion was purely because her father had paid handsomely for it. Now that the pay had been secured, it was time for me to vanish.

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!"

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?

During study hall, everyone in the classroom was going through their homework. Meanwhile, I had my earphones plugged in, playing a mobile game. My teacher and classmates all noticed this, but no one stopped me. After all, I was the state's top scorer. The headmaster gave me privileges, and I could spend my time how I wanted. However, the new dean of students had no idea. He snatched my phone away and bellowed, "What's your name? What do you think you're doing? Everyone else is working hard, so why aren't you?" With a deadpan face, I answered, "My name's Finn Wood." "You're at the top of your year, right? Just because you have good grades doesn't mean you get to disrespect your teachers! Everyone else is putting in the effort, and sooner or later, they'll catch up to you! You'll write a 5000-word reflection, and you're not going to bed until it's done!" I wrote two copies of the reflection. One for the dean, and the other for the headmaster. The reflection only had one string of numbers written on repeat. "154-XXX-XXX." Only the headmaster realized what number that was. It belonged to the headmaster of another high school.

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.

I go to the city where my online boyfriend, Logan Wright, lives to surprise him without telling him first. Instead, I overhear him talking with his friends. "So what if her voice is nice? She's probably ugly as hell if she's reluctant to even send a picture. If the hottest girl on campus hadn't turned me down, I wouldn't even bother messing around with someone like her. "Not only is she ugly, but she's also horny as hell. She keeps saying she has to see what I'm packing down there before we even meet." One of his friends snickers. "So did you show her?" Logan let out a low grunt in agreement. "But it wasn't mine. It was Troy's." His friend blurts, "What the hell? Troy Levine? Your roommate? You said he was at least eight inches. Were you serious?" "Of course. Why would I lie to you? Troy is a real bro. Seeing that I didn't want to send that kind of picture, he offered to do it for me." They freeze for a second, then all burst out laughing. I laugh too. I've heard of body doubles in Showbiz. This is the first time I've seen a body double in online romance. I want every detail on Troy, and I want them in the next three minutes!

As a low-income student who's specifically recruited by the elite college this year, I can still feel my hands trembling as I clutch the letter that tells me I get to study for free. Not only are my tuition and miscellaneous fees waived, but I also get to receive 30 thousand dollars' worth of student grant per year. I even get to have free access to the leather seats inside the library, the equipment inside the gym, as well as the aerial garden on the roof. The best surprise for me has to be the cafeteria. All low-income students get a 50% discount on their meals, but the quality of their food doesn't decrease at all. Best beef is used in the steak dinners offered by the cafeteria, whereas a seafood platter showcases the entire huge lobster. Even the most basic mac and cheese meal has different types of freshly grated cheese baked into it. As I sit in the brightly lit classroom and look at the rich students around me, who wear custom-made uniforms and have branded watches latched around their wrists, all I have is one thought. I must be on good terms with them. But my seatmate, who's also a low-income student, isn't as thrilled as me. In fact, she just looks at the people around her with disdain in her eyes. After the first lesson, a rich student arrives at our table. He might not sound polite at all, but at least he's not putting on airs. "Do any of you have time to head over to the cafeteria and buy me breakfast?" I'm about to respond to him when a shrill voice booms out next to me. "You're so annoying! What, you think you rule the campus since you're rich? Had I known that this classroom is filled with useless scions like you who just waste their lives away on nothing, I wouldn't have enrolled in this college in the first place!"

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?

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 was born with a strikingly beautiful face, but I also suffered from severe social anxiety disorder. To hide from people's stares, I wore a face mask all year round, which made me the school's resident freak. They moved my desk into the boys' restroom and scrawled "UGLY FREAK" across my school uniform. They even cornered me in the equipment room and tried to force my mask off. That was when Hal Chilton, a transfer student, kicked the equipment room door open. He pulled me behind him and shot the group a cold look. "She doesn't want to take off her mask. Nobody gets to force her." From then on, he became my protector and wouldn't let anyone bully me. Little by little, I fell for him. For his sake, I even found the courage to take off my mask. Then, just before the graduation gala, I overheard Hal talking with the bullies. "The bet runs out tomorrow. Are you really going to confess to the ugly freak?" Hal laughed lazily. "Of course. "First, I'll get her to take off her mask in front of everyone. Then I'll tell her that everything, from the hero saving the damsel to us falling for each other over time, was an act we set up." Someone asked, "What if she turns out to be pretty under that mask?" Hal scoffed. "If she were pretty, would she have spent three years too scared to show her face?" I looked down at my phone. Half an hour earlier, Hal had texted me: [When I confess to you tomorrow night, can you take off your mask?] I'd happily replied: [Sure.]

The college entrance exam was finally over, and our class gathered for a celebratory dinner when our homeroom teacher, Mr. Daniel Sanford, received an unexpected phone call. After hanging up, his expression turned grave. "A student in our class submitted blank answer sheets for every single subject." The room erupted in speculation as everyone tried to figure out who it could be. Then, to everyone's shock, the class president, Jayla West, approached me with tears in her eyes, apologizing over and over. She explained that one of the pencils she'd purchased for the class had been defective. Three hours after use, every mark it made would disappear—and by sheer bad luck, that pencil had ended up in my hands. In other words, I was the student who'd supposedly turned in a blank exam paper. Before I could say a word, my childhood friend and the school's top student, Samuel Ashley, stepped protectively in front of Jayla. "Ellie, Jayla didn't do it on purpose. It was an honest mistake. You're smart enough that even if you have to take the exam again, you'll still get into college. Stop blaming her." As I stared at the unquestioning way he defended another girl, a pang of sadness and bitterness shot through me. What Samuel had forgotten was that just before the exam began, we had swapped pencils.

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.

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?"

On the last day to submit our college applications, my childhood sweetheart, Jose Hanson, changes my major from medicine to mortuary science. Meanwhile, he applies to the same college as the girl next door, Rachel Thorne. When I confront him, he answers casually, "I saw the diagnosis in your room. You have Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis." I freeze. Jose looks at me with disgust. "Vicky, your mom took me in 12 years ago. I've spent 12 years playing the role of your childhood sweetheart. Now, it's time for me to pursue my true love. As for you, you might as well start learning how to arrange your own funeral." But… I look at him holding hands with Rachel. That diagnosis isn't mine. It's his.

I was the broke scholarship kid, stuck sharing a room with Sherry, the spoiled heiress. From day one, she was all fake smiles and "let's be besties." She'd take me out for fancy meals. She even introduced me to Kenneth—her rich childhood buddy. It was fine—until Kenneth and I started dating. That's when the claws came out. One day, she "accidentally" dumped hot soup all over herself and claimed I'd done it on purpose. Then she demanded I pay her back. I gave her every cent I had, but it wasn't enough. Next, she accused me of stealing her wallet. The school bought it. I got written up, everyone turned on me, and Kenneth? He dumped me with, "You're just an ugly duckling trying to be a swan." I couldn't fight back. Humiliated, alone, and dragged through online hate, I dropped out. Then I let the river take me. And then—I woke up. Back to the moment Sherry introduced me to Kenneth.

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'.

After returning to school following a few days of absence, I can clearly sense a shift in how my classmates look at me. Even my former best friend, Jake Turner, has grown cold and distant. During a mock exam, when I ask to borrow a pen from him, he raises his hand and declares, "Ms. Stafford! I want to report Darrell Goodwin for cheating!" I'm given a major disciplinary demerit as a result. When I demand to know why he did it, he shoots me a look of utter contempt and says, "The SATs are just around the corner, and here you are, taking time off to sell your body for favors. My father is the vice principal of this school, and even I wouldn't stoop as low as you." Completely bewildered, I watch as he tosses a photograph at me. It's a picture of me getting into a luxury car on the day I took leave. Suddenly, everyone begins mocking me, claiming that I'm resorting to any means necessary just to take a shortcut and even become someone's kept man while my parents work themselves to the bone, running a farm to support my education. I try to explain that the person in the car is my own mother, but no one believes me. "You mean your sugar mommy? Do your parents even know you're being kept by a woman?" The rumors spiral out of control, and the principal, Mr. Matthew Snyder, even demands that my parents come to withdraw me from school. But the moment my entire family arrives, Mr. Snyder panics.