Historias cortas y novelas de Campus

My roommate, Nathan White, says he practices extreme mindfulness and can't kill any living creatures. On the very first day of college, he grabs my electric mosquito swatter and stops me. "Mosquitoes are living creatures too. How can you kill them?" That night, he opens every window in our dorm, saying he wants to leave the door open for any little lives that have lost their way. I get bitten so badly that I develop a high fever and an allergic reaction. My eyelids swell so much that I can barely open my eyes. When I put up a mosquito net, he tears it down with tears in his eyes. "How can you be so selfish? If you cover yourself up, what's going to happen to them?" In my previous life, those words marked the beginning of my condemnation by everyone in my dorm, my entire class, and even the campus confession page. They say I'm cold-blooded and that Nathan is simply too kindhearted and criticize me for being unable to tolerate just a few mosquitoes. In the end, my high fever leads to an infection, and I go into anaphylactic shock and end up in the ICU. Meanwhile, Nathan faces the camera with an aggrieved expression and claims that my hostility is what provoked the mosquitoes to attack me. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the first day of college. Nathan is holding down my electric mosquito swatter and looking at me expectantly. "You won't hurt them, right?" I pick up my phone and head straight to the office of the faculty member in charge. "Ms. Zimmer, I'd like to apply for permission to live off campus." Whoever wants to turn the dorm into a wildlife sanctuary can do as they please. I want no part in it.

The day I became the state's SATs valedictorian, my father, with his dyed blond hair, got so excited he put his food delivery helmet on crooked. He threw his arms around my mother, tears streaming down his face. "Honey! See that? I told you our genes were anything but ordinary! The curse's been lifted! Our son's gone and become the greatest of all time!" My mother, who had just dyed her hair purple, smacked her thigh as she shed tears of joy. "Bull! This is all because I quit the club scene for good and started selling grilled cheese sandwiches at the night market! God has seen my sincerity and rewarded us for it!" As I watched them celebrate like a pair of overgrown teenagers, I read the floating comments across my vision and had to blink away my tears. "You dummies, this has nothing to do with luck!" "You two swallowed so much bitterness just so your son could stand tall in public! Frankie over here got beaten and didn't dare fight back while Tanya pricked her fingers raw just to support his studies. You two sacrificed everything you had just so he could live well."

After the college entrance exams ended, the class heartthrob suggested the whole class take a trip together. To save on costs, he rallied everyone to go sightseeing at my house instead. "Didn't Nico say his house was bigger than the Palace of Versailles, with more servants than anyone could count?" Everyone watched me like they were waiting for a show, eager to see me humiliated. I kindly warned them that once you set foot in my house, there was no leaving. Tyler Knight, the class heartthrob, laughed. "Doesn't matter. If your house is really that big, we'll stay for the rest of our lives. No, scratch that, we'll stay for the next eight hundred lifetimes. "Nico's really committed to the act. I want to see how he keeps bluffing once we actually show up at his place." Since everyone was dead set on going, I had no choice but to call my father, the King of Hell. "Dad, my classmates are coming over in a few days. Tell Agnes to make a few extra pots of her special soup."

While we're shopping for college supplies, my younger brother, Reuben Whitaker, picks up a limited-edition gaming bedding set and grins at Mom. She doesn't even glance at the price before putting it in the cart. When it's my turn, I barely pick up a charcoal-gray bedding set when my older sister, Cheryl Whitaker, frowns. "Garrett, why do you always choose such gloomy colors? You need to be more upbeat like Reuben," she scolds. My childhood friend, Phoebe Thorpe, smiles as well. "No one at the dorm knows you anyway, so buying something new will be a waste," she says. Reuben glances at the sheets in my hands and quietly suggests, "Garrett, why don't you use my old set? You never cared about things like that anyway." Mom immediately nods in agreement. "Garrett, you don't need new sheets. Besides, putting two sons through college isn't easy." My grip slowly tightens around the set. I remember Reuben's old bedding. The corners are covered in pills, and the fabric is stained with soda he spills during his late-night gaming sessions. It has always been this way. I get the designer sneakers he no longer wants, the backpacks he's grown tired of, and the bedroom he doesn't like. If I don't complain or fight him for anything, my turn will eventually come. At least that's what I think. But even after 18 years, their only response is, "You never cared about things like that anyway." At the register, I watch Mom pay for Reuben's things one by one before casually tossing my charcoal-gray sheets back onto the shelf. It's then that my lips curl into a smile. As it turns out, no one has ever bothered to remember what I like. I pick up the charcoal-gray sheets again. This time, I won't put them back.

Julian is my twin brother. I rule the Greek scene at our Ivy League. We use different last names. Because of that, rumors fly. People think he’s just my pathetic lapdog. They think he bows to my red-bottom heels. His cold, lethal partner, Silas, finally had enough. He pinned Julian against a wall. He growled. "Do you really have to be that woman’s personal pet?" My brother just looked dazed. "She’s actually really sweet to me in private." Silas casually wiped the blood off his knuckles. He just came from crippling a guy at an underground fight club. He scoffed. "Just wait. Give me a month. I’ll rip that Black Widow’s mask right off." A month later, I had two lethal beasts willingly groveling at my feet. This time, it was my brother who grabbed Silas by the collar. Julian was losing his mind. "Are you out of your fucking mind?" Silas slowly buttoned his shirt. He carefully covered the bite mark of submission on his collarbone. His eyes were dead calm. "I think you’re heavily biased against her."

I have zero sense of direction. I could visit a place ten times and still get lost. So Paxton Levis spent an entire week hand-drawing every street around our school onto a set of maps. There was no north, south, east, or west on them. Only labels like "the convenience store with the yellow dog out front" and "the old man who sells terrible hot dogs." He'd ruffle my hair and say, "What would you do without me?" That was how it went, until my best friend Patricia Sandler came back from studying abroad. On our graduation trip together, Paxton told me to get out of the car and check whether something was wrong with it. I'd barely gotten both feet on the ground before the car pulled away without me. A message came through from him. Paxton: [There's a rest stop three kilometers up the road. Patricia and I will wait for you there. Patricia is right. If nobody ever pushes you, you're never going to learn your way around.] I walked for an hour through a downpour, working myself into a panic, before Paxton sent me a hand-drawn map. It had arrows on it, and a cute little smiley face doodled in the corner. [Just follow this. Twenty minutes, tops.] But my legs ached with every step, and the route kept drifting further off course, until I ended up in a dead end. I called Paxton. Patricia's bright laugh came through instead. "Congratulations, sweetie, you took a wrong turn! "Paxton and I made a bet on whether you'd figure out he flipped the arrows on purpose. I said you wouldn't. Guess I know you better than he does. "So for the rest of the trip, it's just going to be Paxton and me. Dragging you along is honestly way too much trouble." Paxton's voice came through next to hers, doting and amused. "A bet's a bet. I'll listen to whatever you want." Depending on someone else comes at too high a price. High enough that when he finally walked away, I didn't even know which direction was which anymore. I wiped my eyes. This time, I want to find my own way.

I am timid by nature but have this strange sleep disorder where I immediately fall asleep when scared. However, what nobody else knows is that after I fall asleep, a split personality will awaken and take over my body. That split personality is also prone to violence. When I was eight, a fierce dog scared me so much that I fell asleep on the spot. When I woke up again, the dog was whimpering in a corner, clearly terrified of me. When I was 17, a robber accosted me. When I opened my eyes next, he was clutching a police officer's legs as he begged to be taken away and thrown into jail. All these years, I have tried my best to remain calm, so no other accidents happen again. That is, until I enter university and am placed into the same dorm room as the campus hunk, Theodore Caldman. During the welcome party, he corners me in the equipment room. With a pair of scissors in hand and a malicious smile, he says, "You always dress so tackily, yet you still dared to hit on my girlfriend? I'm going to ruin that pretty face of yours! Let's see how you'll seduce others again!" My legs turn to jelly, and I stammer out, "I-I'm not the sort who likes to cause trouble, but if you scare me so much, when I fall asleep, things are going to get real ugly…" He punches me in response. "What's with the tough guy act?" With that, my eyes roll back as I fall asleep. Theodore barely gets a smug laugh out when I suddenly spring up from where I was prone on the floor. Even though my eyes are still shut, I seize him by the neck and lift him into the air with one hand. Ten minutes later, the security guard kicks open the door to the equipment room, only to see a beaten and bloodied Theodore, kneeling on the ground and singing nursery rhymes. Meanwhile, I am leaning against the wall off to one corner, snoring softly.

On the day I receive my acceptance letter from my dream university, Jaxson Ludlam rents out an entire bar to celebrate with me. During a tipsy round of honest confessions, someone asks him what's the most outrageous thing he has ever done in high school. Leaning back on the couch, Jaxson looks toward Ingrid Rice, who has been sitting silently in the corner all this while. With a soft chuckle, he says, "Well, I guess it's probably taking the blame for someone and getting a detention right before the SAT." The entire room gasps in shock. Even I am stunned. A month before the SAT, Ingrid is caught using the school's computer lab without permission and very nearly got expelled. Jaxson steps forward and claims that he forces her to unlock the lab, taking all the blame himself. I always believe he did it simply because of his sense of responsibility as the class president. Under everyone's curious gaze, Ingrid blushes, and tears brim in her eyes. Jaxson gets up and walks over to shield her from everyone's attention before turning back to me with a reassuring smile. "Mira." Lowering his voice so only I can hear, he gently coaxes me. "If this goes into Ingrid's record, it'll ruin the rest of her life. You're always so understanding. Let's just treat it as doing a good deed for a friend, okay?" Looking at the way he takes it all for granted, I suddenly find the noise in the bar unbearably nauseating. I stand up and slip my acceptance letter back into my bag. "I understand." Meeting his startled eyes, I say, one word at a time, "Let's break up."

I've spent seven years running security at the testing site at Millbrook High School. I've seen all kinds of cheating, from cheat sheets to hidden earpieces, and even invisible ink. That morning, Steven Lindell, the last student in line, walks in. He has a bookish look as he pushes his black-framed glasses up his nose. His admission slip, fingerprint scan, and facial ID all check out. I look him over for a moment, quietly take a few steps back, and press the button I haven't touched in seven years. In less than three minutes, the exam halts, and the testing site goes into lockdown.

I was a sucker for pretty faces. The only reason I agreed to date Isabelle was because she was passable-looking as partner material. It had only been a few days since junior year started when my roommate came over to me and awkwardly said, "Damian, I just spotted your girlfriend getting pretty close to that well-known broke pretty boy by the campus lake." I immediately rolled up my sleeves and rushed toward the lake. From a distance, I saw Isabelle standing very close to a slim young man. But the moment I got a good look at his face, I froze. "Damn! This guy was insanely handsome!" He was so good-looking that even I, as another guy, was jealous. Isabelle frowned and stepped in front of me. She said impatiently, "His grandma was rushed to the hospital after a heart attack. I was only trying to comfort him. Don't give him a hard time for no reason, okay?" I pulled her aside, then walked over and gave the handsome guy a firm pat on the shoulder. "Bro, if you're in trouble, you can come to me!"

I've wanted a big brother for as long as I can remember. The second I open my eyes every morning, I start making a fuss and shout, "Dad, give me a big brother!" Even with my eight sisters taking turns trying to cheer me up, I keep clinging to Dad and begging him for a big brother. So when people from Jarroville suddenly show up saying I'm the real heir to a family I was switched away from at birth, Dad immediately shoves me into a luxury car. "Go on! Off you go! Your brother's over there waiting for you!" The second I step through the Decker family's front doors, my biological sister, Amber Decker, sneers at me. "Arthur Decker is the only little brother I acknowledge!" My betrothed, Mindy Hickman, whom I'm promised to by our families, frowns as well. "Jake Moore, know your place. Arthur is the only person I'll ever marry." But regardless of what they say, my eyes stay fixed on the fake heir. Oh my gosh! He's the brother I was always meant to have! I squeeze past the two women blocking my way, lunge at him, and wrap both arms tightly around him. "I've always known I was destined to have a big brother!"

The night before our SAT, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Suddenly, my phone screen lit up. I received a text from an unknown number. [Tomorrow at 6:30 a.m.. Leaving for the testing center. Your sister disappears.] I stared at the screen, my heart jolting. I did have a twin sister, Molly Young, and we were both scheduled to take the test the next day. But what a pathetic prank. I tossed my phone aside, turned over, and went back to sleep. The next morning, we had barely left the driveway when Molly suddenly cried out beside me. “Oh no, I forgot my admission ticket.” “Dad, pull over! I need to go back and get it.”

On the day the college entrance exam results are released, I clutch my phone and wait anxiously for 40 minutes. When I see that I've scored 1580, I'm just about to shout in excitement when my sister, Rose Ward, screams and throws herself into my boyfriend, Shane Hudson's arms. "I got 1400! And you got 1450! Shane, we can both apply to Johnsburg Medical University!" I try to tell them that I can also join them, but Shane has already grabbed Rose and ran out the door with her. It isn't until the celebration party that Shane finally remembers me. "Oh, Lily. Johnsburg Vocational School is right next to the medical university. Why don't you apply for nursing there? Then the three of us can still get together," Rose says. She smiles and lightly taps me on the head. "Shane and I will be doctors, and you can be our nurse and help us out. We'd make the perfect team!" They are a perfect match, a couple made for each other. They are two jigsaw pieces that fit perfectly together, leaving no room for a third. I have spent so long chasing after them that all I ever see is them disappearing into the distance. But this time, I decide not to do so anymore.

I had a crush on Mandy Sawyer for three years. I had thought it would be my secret pantomime forever. I had even planned to silently wave goodbye to her back on the day of our high school graduation. However, when I saw her weeping silently under her desk over the sudden drop in her usually stellar results… I watched her trembling shoulders and knew that I could no longer pretend to be a stranger.

When I missed the passing grade by one point, my best friend dragged me to a bar. She said there was nothing a drink couldn't fix. I drank until I blacked out. When I woke up, a man lay beside me, all cool eyes and tightly leashed control. I left two hundred dollars on the nightstand and ran for my life. I thought I'd never see him again. Then, on the first day of the new semester, the class I'd failed had a new professor. I looked up at the podium. The man from that night stood at the lectern, opened the roster, and read my name in a cool, even voice. "Vivian Harper, come see me in my office tomorrow." The color drained from my face. Convinced he was here for payback, I stayed up all night writing a transfer application. The next day, I clutched my transfer application all the way to his office. Before I could work up the nerve to speak, he pulled out a sheet of paper and studied me with an unreadable expression. "I've read the assignment you turned in." "Care to explain why a positive pregnancy test was bound into your term paper?"

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.

During a group assignment, I'm trying to speak up with my ideas. My boyfriend and our childhood friend are flipping through sheet music, heads down, deep in a heated discussion about ensemble pieces. Halfway through, they finally notice I'm still standing beside them. Reid Sullivan and Aria Merrill glance at the sheet music in my hands and look at me like they don't know what to do with me. "Your fundamentals are way too weak for the ensemble, so don't even bother. Just toss that scrap paper." "Yeah, and you've got such a great eye anyway. Just stick to taking our photos and editing our videos." I grip the sheet music I've spent all night writing while fighting back tears. The three of us are childhood friends. They love music and never run out of things to talk about. I love art, can't carry a tune, and can never get a word in. So, everything I put in just gets brushed off as scrap paper. After class, they fall into step together and head for the practice room without even noticing I'm not trailing behind them like I always do. I crouch in the hallway, staring at nothing. If they don't see any value in me, then I should just leave. So, I wipe my tears and stand up. After tossing the sheet music into the trash, I dial a number. "Cedric, is what you said before still on the table? "I've made up my mind. I'm transferring to the art school and studying abroad."

I used to be the cockiest rich kid in high society, but somehow I became the biggest simp in the whole circle. It was all because I was bound to a heroine conquest system. If I failed, I would be finished. To stay alive, I had no choice but to do everything Samantha said and constantly try to please her. Knowing I could give her anything she wanted, she took the sports car I gave her and went for a drive with her childhood friend, Charles Lindsey. Then she left me alone on the highway in the middle of a violent storm. "Samantha, my asthma is acting up. My medicine is in the car. Can you come back and get me?" She gave a cold, mocking laugh. I could also hear Charles laughing on the phone. "Walk home yourself. There’s no room in the car for you." With only ten seconds left to live, I finally snapped. "You stupid system! How can a woman this cruel be the heroine? I want to switch targets!" The system froze for a long moment before a notification appeared. "Target has seriously deviated from the assigned character profile. Select a new target within five seconds!" In a panic, I pointed at the thin, miserable-looking figure in the distance. "New target selected: Destined Villain. Confirm?" I shouted with all the strength I had left. "Her! I choose her!"

There is a dead mouse stuck in the air conditioning unit during summer, filling the classroom with a foul odor. Henry Hudson, my homeroom teacher, instantly blames it on me, saying I don't shower. He mocks me for reeking of pigs and polluting the air in the classroom since Mom and Dad raise pigs for a living. He even insists that Mom and Dad sell our pigs to buy new air conditioners for the classroom. I flush with shame as I repeatedly insist that I shower every single day, but my classmates still mock me and call me "Stinker Tucker". I am forced to transfer to another school after enduring the endless insults and hostile glares from countless people. Years later, I head a major biopharmaceutical company that houses numerous talented innovation teams. It is through a rigorous screening process that a team led by a young PhD graduate, fresh out of his studies abroad, emerges on top. I plan to allocate 20 million dollars in funding to him because of his stellar resume and expertise, which is exactly what we need for our project. I, however, instantly call my assistant over after seeing the name listed among his family details. "Disqualify him from the selection, have him get his final pay from finance, and show him the door. I don't need the son of a crook working in my company."

I was a two-hundred-pound girl. But on the night of graduation, I slept with Nova, captain of the Ashbury Ravens hockey team. The next morning, laughter drifted down the hotel hallway from his teammates. "Nova slipped his room key to Sienna last night, right?" "What, you think he'd give it to the Zamboni? That tub of lard. One look at her gives you nightmares for three days." "Did you guys see her reporter's notebook? It's covered in Nova's name. She's actually got a crush on Nova. Disgusting." So the room key that had slipped into my notebook wasn't meant for me. And the name he murmured against me in the dark wasn't mine either. My eyes burned with humiliation. I got dressed, walked out alone, and disappeared for six years. Six years later, my mother, Diane Quinn, was three months behind on her dialysis bills, and the sports website I worked for was on its last legs. My editor, Claire Bennett, slapped a file on my desk. "Nova. Newly crowned MVP. Not one interview in six years. Land him, or you're out."