Mga Maiikling Kuwento at Nobela Campus

My childhood friend, Flynn Carter, is the college's undisputed ice hockey star and campus heartthrob. Too bad he has a secret no one knows about. Because he's "allergic" to women and hates physical intimacy, he's stayed single well into adulthood. Over time, rumors have spread around campus that there's something wrong with him in that department. But no one will ever guess what this cold, unapproachable god is like once he comes home. One night, I return to the apartment we share after my evening class. I walk in just in time to see Flynn holding my freshly washed bra in his hand, a faint crease between his brows as he asks, "Why do you even have pink ones?"

When the half-mile sprint test is about to begin, Quiana Sullivan, the class president, and I have applied to be exempted from it. My own mother, who's the homeroom teacher of my class, approves Quiana's application with a smile. But she then throws mine to the floor. "You're having a chest pain, you say? I can't believe you're able to come up with such lies just to avoid the half-mile sprint! I'd have known if you had a heart condition! "Quiana is weak by nature, not to mention she's on her period right now, so she can't handle the agony. What about you, hmm? You've always been perfectly healthy, yet now you're telling me that you're suffering from heart pain? "Don't go around embarrassing me just because you want to slack off! I don't want others claiming that I'm being biased toward my own child! As long as you're still alive and kicking, you must finish the half-mile course no matter what!" Left without a choice, I can only return to the field. The cold wind makes me feel even dizzier now. My heart keeps contracting uncontrollably against my will. Suddenly, it just stops pumping. The next thing I know, I collapse onto the grassy field heavily. When my consciousness is about to flicker to darkness, my mom finally walks over to me. But she merely kicks my arm with a frown on her face, and her tone remains glacial. "Stop playing dead. Get up right now." She doesn't realize that I can never open my eyes ever again. Isn't this great, Mom? No one will ever claim that you're biased toward your own child. I've used my life to prove how fair and just you are. You must be happy now, right?

Just before I left for college, I stumbled across a livestream showing me three years in the future. I wore a wedding dress, and my eyes were red from crying. "I'm marrying Craig today." I smiled, assuming they were happy tears. Craig Eaton and I grew up together, and I wanted to marry him ever since I was six. "But I don't want to," she continued. "Craig was supposed to drive me to Halcyon University. Instead, he took me to the apartment I'd be sharing with Gwen. "He and Mom canceled my enrollment without telling me. They decided I'd take a gap year to help her study for the SAT and apply to colleges again." I froze, then angrily typed, [You're lying! Why would they do that to me?] She recognized my profile picture and smiled bitterly. "Because Craig fell for someone else, and Gwen is the daughter of Mom's first love." Then she stepped onto the ledge of the roof. "That first year, you shared an apartment with Gwen and spent your days cooking, doing her laundry, and organizing her study notes. She didn't get into any of the colleges she applied to, but you got into a top school. "Mom begged you to put college off for one more year to help Gwen. She said you owed her for raising you and promised she'd never ask for anything else. "The second year, you both got into other schools, but Gwen still wanted Halcyon. Craig said you'd stay another year if you really loved him, and he promised to marry you if you did. "The third year, Gwen finally got into Halcyon. By then, you spent so much time taking care of her that you missed your own application deadlines. She left for college, and you had nowhere to go." She looked into the camera one last time, as if she could see me. "That's how they ruined your life." Then she jumped, and the livestream went dark. My hands shook as I called the university's admissions office. They confirmed it. "That's right. Our records show we received a request to cancel your enrollment." Right then, I saw Craig and my mom walking toward me. "Diane, why haven't you started packing? We're taking you to college the day after tomorrow."

On the day of the Dragon Bloodline Awakening at the Magic Academy, I became the laughingstock of the entire school. Lucia, the most popular girl in our year, awakened the rare Phantom Dragon, while my boyfriend, Miles, resonated with the noble Frost Dragon. As for me? My entire skin was covered in a thick layer of brown mud. I looked like a stray beggar. Pictures of my disastrous awakening were pinned to the top of the academy’s forum. The comment section was howling. "Covered in mud... definitely the lowest-tier Swamp Dragon!" "Oh my god, a Swamp Dragon Knight? Might as well be a normal person!" "Can she please wear a mask from now on? Just looking at her makes me want to throw up my dinner!" Lucia intentionally recorded my miserable state and put it on a loop online. Miles even started a betting pool on the forum: "Taking bets! Do you think our Swamp Loach will dare to show up at the Contract Ceremony tomorrow night?" "I bet 5,000 crystals she won't dare! She might even drop out tomorrow, hahaha!" The whole academy went crazy placing bets, the mocking comments rolling in one after another. Everyone was waiting for me to become a joke, hiding and crying in my dorm room. I stared at the soaring prize pool and couldn't help but smirk. They bet I wouldn't dare to come. I was only worried that when my dragon appeared, they’d wet their pants. After all, the bloodline I resonated with was the Primordial Divine Dragon.

On Valentine's Day, by the time I hurry into the seafood restaurant, my boyfriend, Cody Sharp, and my best friend, Irene Thorne, are already halfway through their meal. I reach for a chair, only to realize there isn't an extra one. Cody glances up at me and says flatly, "Staff said they only have tables for two left. A table for three means a four-hour wait. Just find a table for one. It's all the same." Irene offers an apologetic look. "Besides, Serena, aren't you allergic to seafood? Maybe grab a bite somewhere else?" I freeze. We have eaten at this exact spot 30 times. I am allergic to seafood, but since they love it, this is always the place. Just to keep them company, I take allergy medication before every single visit. So they knew all along. They just didn't care. At the table, they laugh as they plan to come back a few more times before heading overseas next month. Thanks to their top grades, both earned fully funded spots in the study abroad program. My grades are average, but because I wanted to stay with them, I was ready to pay tens of thousands of dollars out of pocket to go along. Now, the heavy seafood stench in the room suddenly turns sickeningly sharp. I turn around, walk out, and step into the barbecue joint next door. Pulling out my phone, I cancel my self-funded study abroad application. That feels good. From now on, I get to eat whatever I actually want.

I disappeared in the year Sebastian Ferraro loved me most. For thirteen years, he never got an explanation. And for thirteen years, I punished myself by never watching his games, never saying his name, and never thinking about the promise we made in that old hockey rink. Until I returned to this city and saw a faded poster outside the abandoned arena. Sebastian was only seventeen in the photo. He stood at the center of the ice, bright-eyed and fearless, with one sentence printed beneath him: Wait for me past the blue line. That was his promise to me. And I had missed it for thirteen years. Later, I collapsed inside his arena. When I woke up, the boy I had once failed was standing beside my hospital bed. Only he was no longer a boy. He was a professional hockey star. The heir to the Ferraro crime family. And a man whose fiancée was about to marry him. I wanted to tell him why I had left all those years ago. But he looked at me and said coldly, “The past is over. Don’t cause any misunderstandings.” That was when I finally understood. I no longer had the right to disturb his life. So I smiled, swallowed every truth I had kept buried, and booked a flight to New Zealand. I thought leaving was the last thing I could do for him. Until that plane disappeared from radar. The news spread through the whole city. Everyone said Sebastian Ferraro lost control at the airport. He went through the passenger list again and again, screaming my name like a man who had already lost everything.

The peach I’d given my childhood friend was rotting in the corner of his desk again. Juice had soaked through the little note I’d written, and the sickly sweet smell had everyone nearby complaining. One of my classmates covered his nose. “Mia Ander, is that your trash again? It stinks.” My face burned as I hurried over and picked up the peach. “It’s not trash! “It only went bad because no one bothered to take care of it.” Just then, Julian Waterson walked into the classroom. He paused for a moment. Then, without saying a word, he picked up the strawberry milk the prettiest girl in class had given him, pushed the straw through the lid, and took a sip. The next day, I brought another peach. But this time, I didn’t leave it on the corner of Julian’s desk. His longtime rival leaned across his desk and held out a hand with a grin. “If he doesn’t want it, give it to me.” “No.” “Why not?” I looked down and took a bite from the sweetest part of the peach. “Because from now on, I’m keeping the best for myself.”

When we are taking our graduation class photo, I cautiously hook my finger around my boyfriend Nathaniel Carter's. He immediately shoves me aside. "You should stand in the back row. The spot in the middle is for the prettiest girls. That's what makes the picture look good. You'll look out of place there. Let Liv take your spot." My face goes pale. Before I can say anything, my best friend, Olivia Morgan, smiles and tries to reassure me. "Eve, Nathaniel's just looking out for you. You're shy, and you'd probably feel uncomfortable standing in the middle anyway. The back row suits you better." Everyone else has already taken their places, and the photographer is beginning to grow impatient. Not wanting to hold everyone up, I quietly move to the corner without saying a word. I've gotten so used to giving in that even my hurt has learned to stay silent. Later, our class representative sends the graduation photo to the group chat. In the picture, the tall guy standing in front of me blocks nearly the entire lower half of my face. Olivia, meanwhile, is standing exactly where I was, her fingers intertwined with Nathaniel's. He tilts his head toward her, his expression soft as he looks at her with complete attention. His gaze has never lingered on me for more than three seconds. We've been secretly dating for three years, and Nathaniel is always the one insisting that we keep our distance in public. "If I'm always looking at you, others will figure it out. Besides, what's so interesting about looking at you?" I've always swallowed the hurt those words leave behind, convincing myself he's right. I buy us a pair of matching rings, hoping we can finally make our relationship public. Nathaniel tosses his ring back into the drawer and tells me, "You're shy. If we go public and people start talking about you, you won't be able to handle it. I'm only keeping us a secret to protect you." But the next day, I see that same ring on Olivia's finger. Not far away, the two of them stand shoulder to shoulder, posing for picture after picture as if they have nothing to hide. Their matching rings catch the sunlight, flashing brightly enough to make my eyes sting. Fine. We don't have to go public. We never will.

There are certain things one should never mess with. Like someone else's final exam revision notes, for example. Or a life-saving online calculus course. And a chicken curry meal ordered by a college student who has been starving for eight whole hours.

After my roommate Cecelia Turner stepped out, the tablet she had left on the table suddenly lit up. I glanced at it absentmindedly and saw the group chat name—Free Riders Club. 'Celebrating this month's huge payday!' Several cash drops flooded the chat in quick succession. My interest was piqued. So, I tapped in to take a look. Besides Cecelia, the group included our landlord and the other two roommates. 'Thanks, Cece! We couldn't have saved up so much money if you hadn't come up with the idea of overcharging Ziegler on the rent!' 'Exactly! Honestly, having Madison as a free live-in maid means we even save on housekeeping and takeout!' The chat was filled with laughter as everyone chimed in to thank me for my "free services." Although they were thanking me, I was the only one who wasn't included in that group chat.

My family was the wealthiest in Brightwater, Bellweather. Yet my parents never stopped praising the scholarship student they sponsored. According to them, he was brilliant, disciplined, and a thousand times better than their own daughter. I refused to believe it. Using a fake name, I contacted him online, pretended to be a struggling student just like him, and flirted with him for months while searching for something I could use against him. Instead, I discovered that Elliot Pierce was almost painfully honest. Determined to expose the act I was sure he was putting on, I enrolled at Brightwater University through its competitive dance program. On move-in day, I pulled my sports car beside him and deliberately splashed muddy water across his shirt. I lowered my sunglasses and smiled at the mess. "I'm Sienna Wilde, the daughter of the people paying your scholarship. "And you're Elliot Pierce? You're not much to look at. I have no idea what my parents see in you." He calmly wiped the mud from his face, said nothing, and walked away. That night, my phone lit up with a message. Elliot: "Molly, I met the Wildes' daughter today. Compared with her, you're an angel."

When my online boyfriend insisted on receiving a picture of me, the class belle, Callista Xavery, snatched my phone from my hand. She said, “You’re a real wrecking ball. He’ll run for the hills the second he sees you. Just send a photo of me instead. That way you won’t scare him off.” My other classmates also mocked me, saying, “You’re out here dripping grease and still trying to online date? That’s straight-up catfishing.” I pinched the thickness around my fat and hesitated about whether I should really send a photo of Callista or not. Just then, a barrage of floating words flashed before my eyes. [That fat girl’s online boyfriend is a top-tier Claremont trust-fund heir who loves flexing by throwing cash around.] [That pretty heroine’s already aware of that. That’s why she’s trying to make that fat girl send a photo of her.] [That way, she can smoothly take the fat girl’s place at the meetup, get spoiled rotten by the rich boy from then on, and start cashing six-figure transfers on the regular.] I was stunned for a moment before quickly snatching my phone back. I then dug out a photo of myself from three years ago and said, “No need. After all, once I lose this weight, I’ll be much prettier than you.”

Campus food deliveries vanished so often that no one even commented anymore. Then it happened to me again and again. I never identified the thief, but by New Year's Eve I was finished with being an easy mark. I set out a bowl of soup as bait and soaked it with water wrung from an old bathroom mop. I meant to make whoever stole it regret touching my food. A week later, the police did not come for the thief. They came for me. The counselor slid a penalty notice across his desk—600 dollars for food costs and medical fees, due next week. The person who ate my food had been hospitalized for "poisoning." The school was already discussing a major demerit, the cancellation of my first-class scholarship, and the loss of my needs-based stipend. That stipend was the money keeping my sick mother alive. They planned to pin everything on me, shield the real culprit, and bury me under paperwork. Unfortunately for them, they chose the wrong target. I was the law department's resident argument addict, and I intended to turn their dirty little mediation into a public collapse.

After my mother, Yolanda Quinn, becomes chairwoman of my grandfather's company, she abandons Dad and me to be with her old flame. My poor father, Paul Carson, still waits day and night, hoping she'll change her mind and come back to him. Even when he becomes seriously ill, he still can't stop thinking about her. Unable to bear watching Dad die with regrets, I call Yolanda. Yolanda says impatiently, "How many times do I have to tell you? Make an appointment with my secretary!" I look into Dad's desperate eyes and plead, "Ms. Quinn, Dad doesn't have much time left. Please come see him one last time. That's his last wish." When I refuse to back down, she snaps, "What? Is seeing me going to bring him back to life? Why is he still hanging on? If he's going to die, then let him die already! Don't waste my time." She hangs up. Dad completely loses the will to live and dies with resentment. I close Dad's eyes. "In the end, she gets her wish."

My roommate was a classic bimbo. When I went to arrange a jogging meetup, she mistyped it as a hookup and sent it straight into the group chat, then burst into tears and claimed she didn't know how to retract the message. When I went to meet my jogging buddy, she told everyone that she ran into my "hookup buddy." At the end, she even covered her mouth and giggled sweetly, saying, "I always mix words up." After a few stunts like that, my reputation was utterly ruined, and the entire class shut me out. Later, she used her "clumsiness" as an excuse to spike my milk with sleeping pills, causing me to miss a major exam. She even dropped toxic bacteria into my water cup and killed me outright. And all of it was over something that stupid: the guy she had a crush on had casually helped me carry my luggage on the first day of school. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very first day of freshman orientation. This time, I am going to let her experience what it felt like to be ruined—and killed—by a so-called idiot.

I'm born with severe allergies, the kind where a whiff of pollen can trigger a full-blown asthma attack. But my mom, who is also the principal of my school, insists that I go on a field trip to the botanical garden with the rest of my class. I plead with her, my eyes reddened, but she stays as cold and hard as ice. "You've got all your meds, don't you? It's just a little thing. Why are you being so dramatic? I'm the principal, so I have to treat every student the same. If anything, you have even more reason to go, so people don't think I'm playing favorites!" To show what a good relationship I have with my classmates, she publicly commands me to get into the flowerbeds and pick flowers to be given to the top student in our grade, Rachel White. The moment I get close to the flowers, I start coughing and wheezing violently. A crushing sense of suffocation floods over me. Mom doesn't look worried in the slightest. Instead, she bites out, "Penelope, how long are you going to keep this act going? You're doing this on purpose to cause trouble for me and embarrass me, aren't you?" She has no idea that my throat is already swelling and closing up. Every breath I take feels like I'm swallowing broken glass. It looks like I won't be a problem for her anymore.

Mia Price, the most beautiful Alpha in the werewolf training camp, said she'd never seen an Omega lose control. So my Alpha childhood friend, Knox Kelly, and a few of his Beta buddies decided to inject me with a rage-inducing serum. Now I was chained to a stone pillar in the middle of the camp square with silver links, the metal burning into my skin. Wolves passed by, jeering. Some threw punches. Others spat. They laughed, saying even an Omega in a frenzy was still weak. For two solid hours, I was humiliated in front of everyone. The silver chains drained every ounce of strength from my body. I could barely stand. Knox just grinned, shrugging it off. "Mia said she wanted to see what an Omega frenzy looks like. It was just a joke, right?" He tilted his head, all fake innocence. "You're not actually mad, are you? We've known each other for so long. You know me. It was just a joke." I stared at him—and the others—in silence. So this was what my dignity was worth to him. Something to be thrown away for a laugh, to impress someone else. After that day, I went back to my Pack. And I awakened a powerful healing ability. But Knox? He lost it. His voice shook through the phone, barely sounding like an Alpha at all. "We said we'd be together forever. So why—why did you leave?"

Our entire class gets dragged into The Tyrant's Atonement game. The only way to escape alive is to reach a 100% atonement score. The system lets us choose our roles. The class belle, Isolde Adler, picks the tyrant's first love. Her atonement score shoots straight to 99% on the first day. The class president, Asher Brooks, chooses to be a loyal chancellor. His atonement score jumps to 80%. Spectators watching the game flood the screen with comments. "This new batch is smart and way better at picking roles than the last. They might just clear the game in three days." "Even if just one person hits 100%, the whole class goes free. I'm looking forward to seeing who finishes first." "My money's on the first love. She's already at 99%." Just as everyone starts celebrating, the next morning hits us with bad news. All 20 classmates who picked their roles are dead, and Isolde suffers the cruelest fate of all.

Jace Griffin was my childhood friend. One of us was a total slacker, and the other was a real troublemaker. The year we were at the peak of our bragging, I said that I would get second place in the exam, and he said he would get first. The results came out. I scored 20 points, and he scored 10 points. Later, I said that I was going to sleep twelve hours a day to make up for it, and he said that he could sleep a full twenty-four hours. In the end, we both spent the night at an internet cafe and stayed until morning. Then, I said that I was going to confess to someone. His eyes flickered. But his thought suddenly came into my mind, “If I accept her confession and stop her from studying, then Winnie’s spot in Harrington University will be secured!” He opened his mouth and was about to say “I do.” But I turned around smoothly and hugged a stray dog that happened to walk past. “Doggy. From now on, you’re my only one.” Jace’s handsome face twisted in anger right away. “Xena, you would rather choose a dog than me?” I rolled my eyes before smiling brightly. Choose him? What was the point of choosing him? Could he even earn me money? I already had a guaranteed admission to Harrington University. I just wanted to raise dogs. I did not have time for a loser like him.

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!"