Tragic Love Campus Short Stories & Novels

After carrying my girlfriend, Vera Lane, to bed, she suddenly snuggles into my arms. "Your roommate seems pretty wild. Give me his number." I freeze and glance at her. She casually pulls the blanket over herself. "We're getting married sooner or later, but don't you think it's pretty boring to be with only one person forever? I don't want to sacrifice my freedom for you." I watch her for a long moment. Then, I push her hand away and nod. On the day I move out, she stands in the doorway, frowning in annoyance. "Yves, didn't we agree we could see other people? Why are you mad?" I pick up my suitcase. "Nope, that's not who I am." Soon, she gets tired of that lifestyle and comes running back to me. I glance at the wedding band on my hand and smile. "Sorry, I've already moved on." The world is full of choices. If I don't want her anymore, I'll choose someone else. I deserve nothing less than the best.

I'm the heiress of the Claremont family. Damon Johnson and I had a deal—we'd go to Oakwood High together. But the second my acceptance letter arrived, he and the rest of the guys in our class knocked me out cold. Why? Because Sophia Miller, the school's little princess, said she'd never seen a real mummy before. When I came to, I was wrapped head-to-toe in bandages, strung up at the front gate of the school. Students passed by—laughing, filming, some even spitting in my direction. I hung there for two full hours, on display for everyone. Finally, Damon showed up. Grinning, he untied the rope. "Sophia said she wanted to see a live mummy. It was just a joke. You're not actually mad, are you? We've known each other our whole lives. You get me." I just stared at him. At the group of guys still snickering behind him. At Sophia in the corner, covering her mouth with her hand. So this is what my dignity was worth to them. A punchline. I tore up my Oakwood acceptance letter and took the plane ticket the International Academy had sent me—three days to leave. The moment I stepped onto that plane, Damon lost it. "You're the one who always understands me—so why are you leaving?"

The news of Jared Foley and me breaking up completely stuns our social groups. After all, we've been together for ten whole years. Even the invitations to our wedding are printed. When faced against our friends' doubts and questions, I merely reply, "We broke up over a joke." At a classmates' reunion on the day before, the drunken Chuck Garner, the class president, suddenly asks Jared a question. "Heather's your fiancee, whereas Paige is your first love. Who would you rescue if both of them fall into the sea at the same time?" Jared doesn't even bother glancing at me as he answers immediately, "Paige, of course!" For a moment, the atmosphere in the private room becomes awkward. Soon, someone quickly eases the tension. "Have you all forgotten that Heather used to be the swimming champion back then? She doesn't need Jared to save her!" Jared shoots it down immediately. "Nah. It's because Heather talks too much." A pause later, Chuck bursts out laughing. "It's been ten years! To think that the top scorer has picked up a sense of humor!" Everyone else joins in on the laughter except for me. After all, I know that Jared is speaking the truth. He's already sick and tired of me rambling on and on when I share every little detail that happens in my life with him every day. That's why he mutes my chatbox on WhatsApp. I've always thought that this is a part of Jared's personality. That is, until I accidentally stumble upon the chat history between Jared and Paige. He even makes sure to take photos of what he has for breakfast and sends them to Paige every morning. Only then do I realize that Jared isn't cold and aloof by nature. He's just cold and aloof toward me. In that case, why should I stubbornly cling to the ray of light that has never illuminated my life?

I was Windsor’s most untouchable heiress. The chairman of the university board was my grandfather. The student council president was my fiancé. The basketball team captain and the top student in our major were my childhood friends. Everyone said that if I wanted something at Windsor, I could have it. After taking a year off from college because of illness, I returned to campus. The moment I stepped through the gates, lines of comments suddenly appeared in front of me. [The spoiled heiress is back! She still doesn't know that all three male leads have fallen for the new transfer student.] [Jessica may be poor, but she's stubborn and kind. Watching her refuse financial help and insist on working part-time is heartbreaking.] [Natalie bullies Jessica because of her family's wealth. In the end, the male leads will all hate her. Even her fiancé will break off their engagement in front of everyone.] [I love watching spoiled rich girls lose everything!] When the three young men who once had eyes only for me insulted me at the opening ceremony just to defend a poor student, I simply smiled. Then I decided to stay away from them from that day forward. After all, a true heiress never needs to lose her mind over a man just to prove her worth.

On graduation photo day, my boyfriend, Ethan Jones, takes more than 200 photos of Chloe Lloyd, the prettiest girl in our class. As president of the photography club, he knows better than anyone how to find the most flattering angles. Chloe stands beneath a tree and smiles at him. "Are you sure this isn't too much trouble?" Ethan looks down and flips through the photos on his camera. "Not at all. You look good no matter how I photograph you," he says gently. When my turn comes, I clutch the hem of my skirt and walk over. Ethan casually presses the shutter twice. "Done." I stare at him. "That's it?" He frowns at me. "You never look good in pictures anyway. Don't hold everyone else up." I look at the two photos on his camera. My eyes are closed in one, and half my face is hidden in the tree's shadow in the other. I ask him to take a few more, but instead, he puts up a post on the campus forum. "Photographer wanted. 20 dollars to snap a few graduation photos of my girlfriend." Half an hour later, I receive a private message from an unfamiliar profile. I send over my location, then say quietly, "Just so you know, I'm not photogenic." The reply comes almost immediately. "Your photographer didn't know how to work with you." After the shoot, he sends me the unedited photos. I'm stunned when I see the photos. I never knew I could look this good on camera. Even crazier, the photographer who took the job for 20 dollars seems to know what he's doing better than the president of the photography club.

My stepsister, Helena, came in second in the herbalism competition at the werewolf academy. She lost to me. After the award ceremony, my brother Silas and boyfriend Raphael ignored me and went straight to her. I approached them, hoping to say something, but Silas pushed me away. He looked disappointed. "Martha, you've already won so many awards. Why do you have to compete with your own sister for this one? "Do you have any idea how all her hard work has gone to waste now?" I stood there, feeling completely lost. "It's okay. This competition isn't worth that much anyway." Raphael gently ruffled Helena's hair. "You'll always be number one to us." I felt a sharp ache in my chest. 'What about me? What did all my hard work mean to them?' They led Helena around me. "Helena's upset right now. We're taking her out to clear her head. You can go back on your own." Clutching my medal, I returned to my dorm alone, only to find that Helena had uploaded a photo of the three of them on Instagram. She stood between Silas and Raphael with a bouquet. Her face radiated happiness. Both of them had left the same comment beneath her post. [We'll always be your biggest supporters.] I closed the app with a bitter smile and opened the admission letter I'd received from the Royal Werewolf Academy a week ago. I'd originally planned to stay in this pack for their sake, but I'd changed my mind now. "Ms. Decker, I'll report for enrollment next week."

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.

On the third day of our graduation trip, my childhood sweetheart finally agreed to take pictures of me. But after only a few minutes, she frowned in frustration and lowered her camera. "Not a single one looks good." A classmate looked confused. "How is that possible? Every picture you take of Ethan turns out great." It hurt to hear that, but I stayed silent. Mabel lowered her camera and looked at me. "Forget it. Let's not take any more. You're just not very expressive. No matter how I photograph you, you always look ordinary." After saying that, she casually stopped a girl by the roadside who was holding a camera. "Hi, could you take a few pictures of him for me? I'll come back and pay you later." Before the girl could even answer, Mabel grabbed her camera and ran toward Ethan. The moment she pointed the camera at him, her mood brightened again. "Turn around and lower your head a little. That's it. You look great..." I stood there quietly, watching how naturally the two of them worked together. Suddenly, I remembered asking Mabel a long time ago, "Why do you always make me look so good in your pictures?" Back then, she had smiled as she fixed my hair. "Because there's love behind the camera. When you love someone, every picture turns out beautiful." Now I finally understood. She didn't love me anymore. Mabel and I had originally applied to colleges in Northfield together. I quietly took out my phone and changed my application to a university in the distant city of Portwell.

My boyfriend proposed to me when we graduated from high school, but I made a deal with him instead of giving him an immediate answer. "We'll get married when we've collected 500 train tickets." In the first year, Marcus could hardly wait to come see me every day. Before long, our collection had grown to 280 tickets. He even laughed and said that he'd be able to take me home as his wife before graduation at the rate he was going. In the second year, we met each other halfway. Soon, the number of tickets climbed to 400. But in our third year, Marcus told me that his advisor had taken on a new project and that a junior who had just joined the research team needed him to show her the ropes. He became swamped, so I ended up visiting him most of the time. Meanwhile, he only came to see me occasionally. By the end of the year, we had barely managed to collect 460 tickets. In our fourth year, he said he was too busy with internship interviews, leaving me no choice but to pull several all-nighters to finish my assignments so that I could spend a weekend going to see him. We finally collected 499 train tickets just before graduation. I secretly put on a white wedding dress, slipped on the ring he'd given me when he proposed, and boarded a train. I wanted to surprise Marcus. I wanted to tell him that we had finally reached 500 tickets. I wanted to tell him that I was ready to marry him. But when I arrived at the foot of his dormitory building, my heart full of anticipation… I saw Marcus holding another girl tightly, surrounded by a large heart of flickering candles. He lowered his head and kissed her on the lips amid the cheers and teasing from the crowd.

My boyfriend's assistant, who also came from the same university as him but a lower grade, has an incredibly similar name to mine. While mine is Marissa Parker, hers is Melissa Barker. At the party our colleagues are throwing to celebrate the end of my unmarried life with my boyfriend, Liam Yarrow, Melissa once again mixes up our names. Everyone is cheering and joking around as they unfurl the banner they had prepared, and one person reads the wording out loud. "Congratulations to Liam Yarrow and Melissa Barker! May you two be happy and blissful forever!" In an instant, the originally noisy room falls silent. Melissa's timid voice then rings out. "Sorry, Marissa. I accidentally made a mistake again." Instead of answering, I turn to look at Liam. Liam's brow doesn't even wrinkle in the slightest as he subconsciously assures her, "It's just a minor matter. She won't mind." Following that, he gets up, walks to Melissa, and stops in front of her, placing me opposite him. With this action, his figure completely blocks her from my sight, and like many times before, he shoots me a warning look. "Marissa, it's just a banner. Mel didn't mean to mess it up. At the end of the day, everyone already knows that you and I are the stars tonight, so don't dwell on this, okay?" He calls me by my full first name, while Melissa gets an affectionate nickname. Can his feelings be any more obvious? I slowly release my grip on the balloon I was holding. "Alright, I won't." I will never dwell on anything to do with him again.

On the third day of our graduation trip, my childhood sweetheart finally turned his camera toward me. But after taking only a few pictures, he frowned and lowered the camera. "Not a single one is worth keeping." A classmate beside us looked confused. "Huh? When you photograph Zoey, you barely have to try to get an amazing shot." A dull ache spread through my chest, and I clenched my fingers tightly. Lucas Hudson lowered his camera and said, "Forget it. We're done. You're just not very expressive in front of the camera. No matter how I photograph you, you always look the same." Then he casually stopped a young man standing by the roadside with a camera. "Hey, buddy, take a few pictures of her. I'll pay you afterward." Before the young man could answer, Lucas had already grabbed his camera and hurried toward Zoey Richardson. The moment he aimed his camera at her, the furrow between his brows vanished, and a smile curved across his lips. "Turn around and toss your hair. Yes, that's beautiful..." I stared blankly as they photographed each other with an effortless understanding that needed no words.

The night I earned admission to West Point, my younger brother, who had envied me since childhood, deliberately started a fight and seriously injured someone. When the victim's family came demanding answers, my parents dropped to their knees and begged me. "You've always been more capable than your brother. You can still rebuild your future." "But if Mason goes to prison, his whole life will be ruined." I gave in and took the blame, destroying everything I had worked for. My girlfriend, Vanessa Hale, despised Mason for constantly causing trouble. "Julian, you big idiot. "If you ever clean up another one of his messes, I really will leave you." Her eyes reddened behind the prison visitation glass as she defended me. Through three years in prison and monthly visits, she kept promising we would marry as soon as I was released. By the time I got out, my parents had moved to a new house. After a long search, the person who opened the door was Vanessa. Mason casually wrapped an arm around her waist and looked at me with open provocation. "Julian, let me introduce you to my fiancee." My parents stood nearby, rubbing their hands together. "They genuinely love each other. Don't try to take your brother's happiness away." Vanessa lowered her eyes and turned the new diamond ring on her finger. "You have a felony record now. If I married you, our future family would live under that shadow." Mason leaned closer with a grin. "Julian, I'm the better man now." I squeezed the crumpled West Point admission letter in my pocket and smiled too. Some debts had finally come due.

Right after the SAT results dropped, the admissions representatives from Blackridge University practically fought over me so fiercely it felt like they'd set the whole room on fire. They made an outrageous offer just to win me over, claiming that I could bring one friend along with full admission. As the clock reset, I chose no one this time around because I'd already lived through it once. In my last life, I didn't hesitate to pick my childhood best friend, Shawn Hooper. I gave him a ticket into a world he could never hope to reach without my help. And what did I get for it? A look of pure disgust. "You're pathetic," he sneered. "It's laughable that you'd dare use something like this to drive a wedge between Madison and me." Madison Cole was our class president. She was the golden girl and everyone's favorite girl. She couldn't handle losing both the guy she loved and the future she thought was hers. So, she jumped from the roof of a building. Shawn found her final message and lost his mind. He told me the class was having one last bonfire party just outside town. It was a lie. He took me there to torture me before leaving me to die. Our entire class covered for him. Every last one of them told the police I'd slipped near the ravine and fallen by accident. … A week after my death, my parents died in a supposed highway pileup. My soul never moved on, and that was how I discovered the truth—Shawn had orchestrated everything. When I reopened my eyes, I quickly realized I was back on the day when Blackridge University fought to recruit me. I wouldn't choose anyone this time. No, the only one I would choose was myself.

The SATs were finally over when my four childhood friends invited me to play a game of Take the Dare. When it was my turn, the real heiress who just got home asked if we would tell everyone our dream university. The four boys said it was Westborder U. Ronald Peyton slid his application over to me and smiled as he tapped on my score. More than 1400. "I dare you to give up Queencity U and come to Westborder with us. Whoever backs off is a loser." That night, I signed the contract right in front of them. Everyone started egging Ronald on after I confessed, and he said yes. When the acceptance letter came, I went to see them only to notice the projector in the living room still turned on. The screen showed a group chat called "Protectors of Melissa (Imperia)". "Did she sign it?" "Yep. Four fake applications to bait her into Westborder. Good trade." "Melissa's smart. Got rid of that annoying girl with one little game." "Ronald's suffering though. Has to pretend to date her until term begins." I stood before the screen, and behind me, the door opened. The boys and Melissa walked in carrying champagne. They were celebrating their acceptance into Queencity U. The moment they saw me standing in front of the projector, every one of them froze.

When graduation season arrived, the academy held a bonfire party. During the group photo, I stood next to Hudson. He was the boy I grew up with, and I stood by him just as I always had. Someone in the crowd shouted, "Come on, let the future mates stand together!" I had heard this kind of joke countless times, but the secret hidden deep down still made my cheeks burn. Hudson stood next to me, not saying a word. The photographer started the countdown. The bonfire crackled, and right at that moment, a stray thought broke into my mind. "She's so annoying. Can she just stop clinging to me?" Deep, familiar, and laced with irritation. It was Hudson. I was born with a weak wolf, leaving severe flaws in my mental barriers. Other people's thoughts would occasionally slip into my head through the mind-link. This time, I heard it with absolute clarity. The second the camera flash went off, he turned and walked away from the bonfire. I stood alone in front of the dancing flames for a long time before leaving in silence. Passing by the ancient tree hung with wishing charms, I reached up and took down the wooden piece Hudson and I had once hung together. It had our promise written on it, saying we would get into Blood Moon Academy together. I stared at it for a few seconds, then raised my arm and threw it straight into the roaring bonfire. The wood hit the ashes at the edge of the fire, its edges curling and turning black. This time, I was stepping completely out of Hudson's world.

Graduation season has arrived, and my girlfriend's childhood best friend, Daniel Whitmore, now a social media influencer, posts a video titled "The Friendship We Shared." It goes viral overnight. Everyone envies the four of them for staying close for ten years. Before long, people are even shipping Daniel and my girlfriend, Evelyn Hayes, swooning over their childhood-sweethearts story. What no one knows is that I film every second of that video. I even write the narration myself. The video is 20 minutes long, yet there isn't a single shot of me. Not even a mention of my name. I ask Evelyn why, but she barely seems to care. "You didn't join us until college. You can't really say you were part of our friendship." Later, I find a folder on Daniel's computer. Every clip featuring me has been removed and placed in that folder. It's named "An Outsider's Mistake". Then I see what Evelyn had written in their private group chat. "Make sure you delete everything. I don't want anything ruining the feeling that it's always been the four of us." I don't confront them about it. I simply revoke their permission to use any of the footage I've provided. If there's no place for me in their friendship, then they can stop using my camera to remember it.

After we'd had a fight, my childhood sweetheart, Adrian Hale, deliberately agreed to take a sophomore named Sienna Reed to Beach House Week on Cape Cod. He was certain I'd do what I always did: get jealous, start a fight, then swallow my pride and beg him to come home. But when he returned to Kingsley University with Sienna a week later, he found me unexpectedly easy to deal with. He gave Sienna my lead creator slot in the National Robotics Challenge. I didn't quit. I organized her test data and rewrote her presentation for her. He backed Sienna in the student council election and picked apart my work during the public debate. I didn't argue. I admitted I could have prepared better and calmly watched her take my seat. Then he tried to hand Professor Moretti's recommendation to her too. I still didn't lose my temper. I even delivered a neatly organized application checklist to Sienna myself. Smug with victory, she told him, "See? You can't keep spoiling a woman like Claire. Give her the cold shoulder, knock her down a peg, and she'll learn to behave." Adrian agreed. He told her she understood people better than anyone. Afterward, he came to see me alone. He promised he'd secure me a direct-entry PhD position at Kingsley and, in an astonishing show of generosity, said he'd propose in front of everyone at graduation. But Adrian had forgotten one small detail. While he was busy entertaining Sienna at Beach House Week, he'd personally approved my transfer to Zurich. I packed the commemorative pin, old records, and love letters he'd given me into a box and sent them back. The Hale family ring he'd planned to propose with would never touch my finger. I was headed for a much bigger world, and I wasn't coming back.

Perry Hughes' desk was stuffed with love letters again. He sent me $40, as usual. "Tsk. Take care of these for me?" I nodded. That night, I was about to throw the love letters away. Then I noticed that the letter at the very bottom was signed by the girl Perry had a crush on.

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.

It was the day before SAT. I made a video for my time capsule. If all went well, I'd be watching the video 10 years later, and all did go well. A bit too well, really. The moment I opened the video call app, I was connected to the future me. The one living a decade in the future. "Did I get into Harland U? Got a PhD? Is Johnny still my best friend? He has a very short temper. No one else can stand him. I bet you've gotten your PhD and married Zoe." The future was a bright, hopeful place in my mind. Unfortunately, the future me flew into a rage the moment Zoe's mouth left my tongue. "That bitch is giving you pens filled with vanishing ink so Johnny gets to be the state's top scorer instead of you! You're not getting into Harland! You're forced to repeat the year! "That bitch is going to act sorry and down and promise to get into an LDR with you only to go steady with Johnny right away! The whole campus knows about them! They're the perfect couple! "You're an idiot, Seamus! Your girl's going to cheat on you, and you'll thank the guy who railed her for fucking taking care of her!"