Tragic Love Campus Short Stories & Novels

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.

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."

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.

After the college entrance exam, the school's reigning beauty dragged me into a wager over our scores. "Only the girl with the higher marks is worthy of being Eric's girlfriend." Eric Lowell scoffed. "That's enough, Jocelyn. My relationships aren't yours to dictate." Then, in front of everyone, he confessed to me. I mistook it for the answer to a long-held crush. With the crowd egging us on, I flushed and said yes. That night, he took me back to his place. From then on, we hardly spent a night apart. Before application season, I went to his house, hoping we would apply to the same university. Instead, I overheard part of a phone call. "Jocelyn, everything's ready: the photos, the videos. Just like you asked." Jocelyn's laughter drifted through the receiver, light and pleased. "You must've gone to so much trouble~ Then let's wait until the school assembly the day after tomorrow and stream it to the whole school. I'm curious to see how Tessa plans on applying to those top-tier universities after that." "Eric," she added casually, "you're not having second thoughts, are you?" He hesitated, then answered, "Why would I? If anyone's at fault, it's her for not knowing her place. What right does she have to keep scoring higher than you?" I set the custom ring down, opened my email, and accepted the Oxford offer that had been waiting for me for a week.

The first month of school, I found out the whole school was calling me a leech behind my back. That vicious nickname was coined by my childhood friend Sebastian's new influencer friend, Chloe. Because as far as they were concerned, I always rode to school in Sebastian's car, spent his Venmo, and lived near the old Rivers family estate. But that wasn't the truth. I brought my ruined homework to Sebastian and asked why he let them smear me. He just laughed. "It's a high school joke. Chloe just likes to joke around. Don't be so sensitive." "Besides, you're always riding in my car, following me around. People thinking that... well, it's kind of normal." I froze. Cold went through my whole body. So this. Over a decade of quiet company and quiet protection. In his eyes, I was just a leech. I didn't explain anymore. I applied for early graduation. Off to Columbia University. But when he found out I was leaving, Sebastian went insane, searching everywhere for me. "Maya, where are you going?!"

After taking our graduation photo, I break up with Philip Lutz. "You're doing this just because I stood behind Mandy and not you while we were taking our graduation photos?" he asks. "Yes," I merely reply. "Sure," he says with a smile. "You'd better not come crying to me or begging for us to get back together later." Having known each other for ten years and dated for four, Philip is certain that I'll never leave him. However, he's unaware that the graduation photos are just an excuse. If I'm capable of taking my graduation photos alone, I can walk my future path alone. Once I've gone abroad, the sky's the limit for me. I no longer need him to stand behind me either.

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.

My girlfriend's schoolmate is being hounded by creditors. In my past life, the same incident had unfolded before my eyes. I was worried that my girlfriend would provoke these ruthless creditors, so I'd advised her not to meddle. However, her schoolmate later overdosed on sleeping pills. Later on, my girlfriend acted as if nothing had happened and continued preparing for our wedding. But after she got drunk one day, I found her caressing his picture tenderly—before stabbing me in the heart with a knife. She claimed that if not for my indifference and selfishness, her schoolmate wouldn't have taken his own life. Now that I've been reborn, I'll grant her wish and let her help him pay off his debts. Presently, I say, "He's your schoolmate. If you can help him, go ahead. I won't object."

I'm ridiculously easy to fool. I trust every word that comes from others. One particularly awful year, an older student scams me out of all the money I have to live on. Dustin Emerson gives me half of what he has. He's the one person I know won't lie to me. He tells me, "You're not stupid. People are just awful, so stop trusting them and trust me instead." An hour before my grad school entrance exam, Dustin texts me. "I got into a car accident. I'm at the hospital. Come quick." I rush to the hospital, only to find Dustin and my best friend, Emily Levine, sitting at a convenience store eating nachos. Emily bursts out laughing, slapping her thigh. "See? I told you she'd fall for it. One text, and she came running instead of going to her exam." Dustin picks up a chip and holds it to her mouth. "Alright, you win. A bet's a bet. I'll take you to the theme park today." I stare at them in disbelief. Dustin pulls out a tissue and wipes the sweat from my face. "You're about to graduate, and the real world can be brutal. This is your first lesson." My voice shakes. "My entrance exam is today!" Emily purses her lips. "Okay, okay. Sharon's so upset she's about to cry. Let's get her back before she fails and blames us for it." The moment Dustin sees me crying, he gets worried too. He floors it and gets me to the exam center with just one minute to spare. I'm just starting to relax when a proctor stops me. "This exam ID is fake. You need to leave." When I look down at the paper in my hand, I realize someone has swapped out my real exam ID. There's a huge doodle of a pig's face on it, with a message written beside it. "Sharon, you dummy! I'm keeping your exam ID safe for you. Surprise!" Underneath is another message. "Don't make the same mistake twice. This is lesson number two." I recognize Emily's handwriting and Dustin's. I may not always know when I'm being lied to, but now I know who truly means well and who doesn't. I won't be so quick to trust anyone again.

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."

The day our SAT scores came out, my boyfriend Wesley Shaw and I were on the high-speed train home from our graduation trip. My foster sister, Cassidy Richards, had come with us. Cassidy wanted the window seat, so Wesley sat beside her. That left me alone for the entire ride. "Daphne, Cassidy and I need to talk about college and what we're planning to major in. You probably didn't score that well anyway. Just sit over there and watch something." They spent the whole ride laughing and talking, never once giving me a chance to join the conversation. So much for the graduation trip Wesley had been promising me for the past three years. At 10 a.m., our SAT scores finally appeared online. Cassidy threw her arms around Wesley. "We did it! With scores like these, Westhaven University is practically guaranteed. We can apply to any program we want!" Wesley hugged her back with a grin. "Check the family group chat. Everyone's already congratulating us." From the seat behind them, I listened as they played a voice message from my parents. "Wesley, Cass, you both did so well! We're so proud of you!" Wesley's parents chimed in next. I lowered my head and opened the chatting app. I wasn't even in the family group chat, and no one had bothered to ask about my score. It didn't matter. They had already chosen the future they wanted. Now, it was time for me to start building mine.

When I was 18 years old, I did something that I would regret the most in my life, just to make Adrian Dickson change his mind and come back to me. I reported his secret love affair with a poor student, Cassandra Addams, to his wealthy parents. The next day, the poor student was made to slap herself in the auditorium in front of the entire school, calling herself a bitch, and then, she dropped out of school. I thought that Adrian would be sad about it and even resent me for it, but he didn't react as I thought he would. He still went to school with me every day, ate with me at recess, and showered me with different gifts and flowers from time to time. He even agreed to marry me and made me his fiancee. But on the day of the wedding, my parents are suddenly kidnapped, and the huge screen meant to play a video of all the sweet, tender moments between me and him begins playing a video of Mom and Dad being thrown into a snake pit, howling in pain. I cry until I nearly faint as I watch the tragic scene in the video and plead with Adrian to save Mom and Dad. However, in front of all the wedding guests, he grabs me by my hair and forces me to my knees. "Sure. Get down on your knees and slap yourself a hundred times while calling yourself a bitch, and I'll consider saving them. How about that?" At that moment, all the blood in my body runs cold. As it turns out, he's been harboring a grudge against me the entire time.

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.

When the SAT scores were released, the highest-scoring student in the state, Eva Long, had earned a 1590. During an interview with a local news station, a reporter asked her how she had done it. Eva's lips curved into a knowing smile. "My secret? My sister and her ex. They're both brilliant, and they have enough romantic drama between them to fill an entire TV series. They've been academic rivals since high school, always competing for the top grades. Even after they broke up, they still argued over who got to tutor me. Honestly, I owe my score to both of them." Once the interview aired, people immediately started digging into Bethany Long and Charles Hicks. They were both attractive, brilliant, and apparently perfect for each other. Before long, the internet was obsessed with them. Strangers were begging them to get back together. I was Charles's actual girlfriend. And all I could do was watch everyone celebrate his supposed love story with someone else. On my birthday, Charles and Bethany got so caught up arguing over a practice question that neither of them noticed I was still on the phone. I sat there listening while the candles burned down and the frosting on my cake began to melt. When Bethany needed a new SAT study plan, they shut themselves inside a hotel suite for three days to work on it. That same weekend, I underwent emergency appendix surgery alone and eventually passed out from the pain. On the day I was supposed to try on wedding dresses, Charles abandoned me again. "I promised Eva that Beth and I would take her on a trip after the SAT," he said. "She's still young, so try to be understanding." This time, I had no intention of arguing. I ended the call, took off the wedding dress, and told the consultant I wouldn't be needing it after all. Then I canceled the wedding. I had been doing everything alone for years, anyway. There was nothing wrong with finally admitting I was on my own.

When our teacher caught my desk mate, Avery Collins, and me stealing mock exam papers just before the college entrance exam, he shouted, "The college entrance exam is right around the corner! What was the point of stealing the mock exam papers? Tell me, who was the mastermind?" In my previous life, I took the blame without hesitation. My father nearly beat me to death for it. Avery and I attended the same university, got married after graduation, and raised a daughter, spending thirty years together. I believed I had the perfect life. Then, on the day of my daughter, Emma's wedding, I was thrown out of the venue. Emma told me, "You have no right to be here. Caleb Morgan is my real father." Avery looked at me coldly. "After you got drunk, you already signed the divorce papers. The company, the house, and all the assets belong to me now. You're leaving with nothing. From this day forward, we're strangers." Lost in a daze, I wandered into the street and was crushed beneath a speeding truck. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day everything began. This time, I told the teacher directly, "Avery was the one behind it. I gave her the papers, but I never looked at them. My score belongs to me."

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.

My best friend, Wendy Xander, was always getting things mixed up. We'd make plans to go out on Saturday, but after I'd already arrived, she'd call to tell me she'd meant Sunday. We'd agree to meet at a restaurant, only for her to give me the wrong name and leave me searching for the place for hours. I'd cried over her mistakes more times than I could count. At first, my boyfriend, Jason Jasper, would always get mad at her. But somewhere along the way, he started taking her side, telling me to just let it go. With college starting soon, Wendy suggested we take a trip together. But when I got off the plane, I realized something was terribly wrong. I'd flown to Hollan. Wendy and Jason had flown to Hollandia. Wendy kept apologizing over the phone. "I'm so sorry, Yara! It's all Jason's fault! He kept distracting me, and I got everything mixed up!" "Who's the one who can't even get her words straight?" Jason's voice came from beside her, sounding exasperated but affectionate. "Yara, why don't you just enjoy yourself in Hollan? "You know Wendy's always getting things mixed up. Tell you what, charge everything to my card. Consider it my way of making it up to you." I stood outside an airport in a completely unfamiliar country, listening to the two of them laughing and teasing each other on the other end of the line. Suddenly, I was just tired of it all. I was done playing along with their little game, where I was always the one paying for their mistakes.

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?

Seventy-two hours before the graduate school recommendation list was posted, someone stole Wesley North's research data. He stared at the empty folder on his screen, his fingertips going cold. Eight months of work—more than two hundred pages of charts and twelve rounds of empirical analysis—gone. Wesley checked the security footage. The files had been copied by Natalie Rowan, his childhood friend of eighteen years, and handed to Derek Sloan, the classmate everyone believed was struggling to get by. In that moment, Wesley didn't think about his own future. He thought about his grandmother. Her doctors had declared her critical eight times, and she was hanging on just to hear whether he'd made the list.