Plot Twists Short Stories & Male POV Campus Novels

On the day the SAT test results were released, my younger brother, who had always been an average student, turned out to be a perfect scorer. Meanwhile, I, the straight-A student, had my results voided because my answers were deemed poorly structured. During a reporter's interview, my brother suddenly dropped to his knees in front of me and slammed his head against the ground. "Henry, I was wrong! "I shouldn't have scored so high! I really didn't mean to refuse to take the exam for you! "Please don't send me back to the fighting ring! "Don't worry! I swear I'll never tell anyone about what you do with men at bars! Please just let me go!" My parents were heartbroken for him. They slapped me over and over while shouting. "It's one thing for you to fool around out there, but how could you bully your brother too? "Thank goodness this was the SAT test, so you couldn't force him to take it for you! Otherwise, you would've ruined his entire future!" My girlfriend immediately dumped me and got together with him instead. She said she wanted to make it up to him on my behalf. As soon as the interview aired, videos of me fooling around with other men in bars spread everywhere online. Before long, all my personal information was exposed. Enraged netizens lured me into a remote forest in the hills. "Are you this desperate? Stay here and reflect on yourself!" I was coiled by a lethally venomous snake. The pain was unbearable. My parents clearly knew what had happened, yet they refused to save me. "It's just a small snake. You're not going to die! "You're not allowed to come home until your brother starts college!" On the day of our high school graduation party, my brother and his girlfriend received acceptance letters from the country's best college, along with a notebook I had sent them.

With grad school entrance exams (GRE) looming, everyone was stressed out of their minds when Preston Lewis, the class heartthrob, announced that he'd secured a spot that let him skip the written exam entirely. He even promised he could get the same deal for everyone else. The whole class erupted in cheers and immediately launched into an excited debate over which universities they should choose. But something didn't seem right to me. I moved closer for a look and saw that the screen Preston was showing everyone was just an AI chatbot, Novi. I tried to warn them that Novi was only a chatbot, but my girlfriend, Carly Monroe, shoved me before I could finish. "Anders, you're just mad because you've been studying from morning till night while the rest of us haven't worked as hard. You think we don't deserve to get into grad school with you. "Wouldn't it be great if we could go to grad school together? Or are you seriously the kind of boyfriend who can't stand seeing his girlfriend succeed?" Kendra Walsh, our class president, immediately chimed in, "You're just jealous Preston has connections. It makes all those days and nights you spent studying look like a joke. There's no place in this class for someone as bitter as you!" Their words set the entire class off. Everyone started demanding that I be kicked out of the class group chat and that they didn't want me around anymore. They sneered that if I thought I was so capable, I could take the entrance exams on my own instead of relying on them. I could only shake my head. I was capable. I'd already been admitted to grad school. What the hell did I need them for?

The day my daughter, Holly Rivera, got her acceptance letter from Bellmont University, I filed my tenth lawsuit against her homeroom teacher, Natalie Martin. The result was exactly what you would expect. I lost again. Outside the courthouse, a group of parents pointed at me and started yelling. "Ms. Martin got the whole class into top schools, and Holly still made Bellmont. Why are you suing her ten times?" Holly stood there as well, looking at me like she didn't recognize me anymore. "I'm done being your daughter," she said. I didn't answer. By then, I already knew the lawsuits weren't going to change anything. That same night, I threw Holly a celebration dinner and invited her entire class. When the parents came to pick up their kids, they found 40 bodies hanging in the banquet hall. Holly was one of them. The police took me in on the spot. An officer dropped the surveillance footage on the table, each frame capturing me stringing them up. His eyes were bloodshot as he leaned in. "Start talking. Why did you kill 40 people? Even your own daughter?" I leaned back and opened my hands. "Why did I do it? Ask Ms. Martin. She'll explain everything."

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.

On the fifth day after I get born into this world, my biological mother chooses to abandon me. But I'm not sure what she's thinking when she's picking out the location, for she actually abandons me at the entrance of the Bianco family. When the beautiful women of the family notice me, they are quick to frown. "Why don't we take him in?" Since then, I have 109 sisters in my family. At home, I'm the bratty ruler among my sisters. In order not to cause them any trouble, I've been leading a normal life for more than a dozen years. That is, until I've encountered bullying in high school. Giovanni Rossi, a rich student, has me cornered in the washroom with his lackeys flanking him. Not only do they dump cold water on me and tear my clothes off me, but they also use their phones to take pictures of my face. "What are you glaring at, huh? You're just a low-income student, so why are you still putting on airs around us? As if a piece of trash like you can ever get into college!" But since the beating I've received is far too brutal, so I holler at the top of my lungs as I yank Giovanni and jump off the third floor with him. When I wake up, Marcella Greco, the school's nurse, berates me angrily. "All Giovanni did is beat you up, and yet you're already planning to kill him, huh? Shouldn't you be reflecting on yourself when others scold and lay a finger on you? How dare you plot revenge against him instead! "I want you to summon your guardian here right away! If you can't do that by today, you can forget about leaving!" All of my hair stands on end as soon as I hear the command. Weakly, I ask, "Are you sure you want to meet my guardians, Ms. Greco?"

Lately, my seatmate had been looking at me strangely. Whether we were going to the cafeteria or heading to P.E., she kept her distance like she was afraid of me. I finally couldn't take it anymore and asked her, "Did I do something to offend you?" She flinched, backed several steps away, and avoided my eyes. "No. It's not your fault!" But the next day, she voluntarily transferred out of the honors track and into a regular class. Confused, I went to ask her what was going on. The moment I arrived at the door of her new classroom, she'd been chatting casually with other students. Then she saw me, started shaking all over, and screamed in terror. "It really has nothing to do with you. Please stop looking for me. Please!"

I forgot to bring a No. 2 pencil, so I filled out my SAT exam with a red pen. The proctor warned me it would count as cheating, and I just shrugged and told him it didn't matter. Tyson Jenkins, the school heartthrob who ranked near the bottom of the class, suddenly got anxious. In my last life, we went back to school to pick up our acceptance letters. I already had a guaranteed spot at Kingsford University. And yet, I was the only one who didn't receive a letter. Tyson had used a system to swap our exam scores. Because my score showed up as zero, Kingsford University revoked my guaranteed admission. I demanded a review of the scoring, but Tyson, who had suddenly become the top scorer out of nowhere, sneered at me. "Kieran, couldn't cheat your way through the exam this time, huh? Everyone knows you only got that guaranteed spot by cheating. You've got some nerve playing the victim!" I went to our homeroom teacher to clear my name. I never expected her to cry on camera and say, "I tried to talk Kieran out of it in private. It's not fair to the other students if he does something like that, but he used his family's influence to pressure me into staying out of it." Overnight, I was at the center of a storm. Before I could even explain, a group of fanatics dragged me up to the roof and shoved me off. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day before the exam.

I suddenly receive a message from my girlfriend, Sophia Rothwood, half an hour before my last test for the SAT. "I'm waiting for you in Classroom 901." I assume that she wants to give me a small surprise since I'm about to finish my SAT. Instead, I see her throw my ID and admission ticket into a brazier the moment I enter the classroom. I rush toward her, throwing all caution to the wind as I try to scoop the remains of my ID and admission ticket out of the fire. "Why did you do that?" I demand. Sophia holds me back. Her voice is calm when she says, "No particular reason. It's just that your results are always better than Louis'. I'm getting a bit tired of coaxing him. I intentionally let you watch this happen so that you understand what's going on and miss the test of your own accord." My ID and admission ticket have burned to ashes by the time she's done speaking. Sophia pauses for a moment as she takes in my stunned expression. "Did you know that the globally-renowned enterprise, Grant Group, has already sent someone to contact me? They plan to give me a million dollars in funding every year and provide specialized training for me. "I'll become Grant Group's youngest female executive within five years. Do you still think that you'll be a good match for me at that point? Louis is different. He's the son of a prestigious family. He's the better candidate to stay by my side during my time in university. "Stop with your delusions. Let's end our relationship now." I let out an indignant scoff, turn around, and leave. Sophia has no idea that Grant Group is my family's business. The million-dollar annual funding and specialized training she speaks of are part of a promise that I made with Dad before SAT. The condition is that I have to achieve first place for the exams. However, getting first place isn't important anymore. What matters is that Sophia's future has turned completely dark.

After the college entrance exams are over, I buy a flight ticket to Carula for my graduation trip. In fact, I refuse to return to my country despite everyone's attempts to contact me. I spend the next two months in bliss. Meanwhile, Zachary Fuller, the campus hunk who keeps brainwashing me that Carula is filled with murderers, starts to panic. In my previous life, after I graduated from high school, Zachary had hired the entire class to work at his family's factory during the summer break while promising them lucrative wages. He even promised everyone that once they went through their summer jobs, they'd be able to join Zachary's company as senior executives as soon as they graduated from college. But two days after I started my job at the factory, a machine went into malfunction, resulting in my limbs getting mangled and severed. Even after I got sent to the hospital, the doctors couldn't do anything about my condition. When my parents sought out Zachary, he didn't show an ounce of guilt at all. "I already told Adrian not to touch the machinery. He's the one to be blamed for being clumsy and idiotic in the first place." My childhood friend, Natania Sutton, also took Zachary's side. "The rest of the class is fine, making Adrian the only handicapped one. He must be trying to scam money from your family, Zachary!" The rest of my classmates, who had received their share of my lucrative compensation, were quick to forge their witness statements just to help Zachary. My parents believed their version of the twisted truth. Thinking that I brought them endless shame, they left my corpse to rot in the morgue without a care in the world. In fact, they even gave their assets to Zachary to compensate for his emotional distress. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Zachary has hired us to work at his factory during the summer break while promising us lucrative wages.

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.

Cosmo Finch, the class president, announces in the group chat that the graduation dinner is being held at 6:00 pm. I arrive at the restaurant ten minutes early and wait outside the private dining room, only for him to stop me and shove a payment QR code in my face. "You're the last one in the class to arrive. Now, transfer me 300 dollars if you want to get in!" I'm baffled. "Didn't you tell us it starts at 6:00 pm? It's only 5:50 pm. How am I late?" Cosmo rolls his eyes and sneers, "Everyone else arrived an hour early to toast our advisor. You're the only one who shows up on the dot. Do you have no sense of team spirit? If you don't want to pay your share, leave!" Not wanting to make a scene at our last college get-together, I transfer the money with a cold expression and push open the door to the private dining room. However, the moment I step inside, my classmates are already putting on their coats and getting ready to leave. I take in all the sparkling-clean plates on the table, not quite processing what I'm seeing. Cosmo calls out from behind, "Everyone, grab your belongings. It's time to hit the speakeasy bar! Kieran, since you showed up last, the rest of the bill is on you!"

I'm not naturally academically gifted. No matter how hard I push myself—staying up until three in the morning only to drag myself out of bed at six—I can barely keep my grades somewhere in the middle of the class. For most of my school life, no one pays much attention to me. That changes three months before the college entrance exam. One day, my homeroom teacher, Victoria Bennett, calls class president Ethan Sterling and me into her office without warning. She looks at me sternly, asking, "Did you cheat off Ethan during this month's exam?" I shake my head. "No." Victoria turns to Ethan. "What do you have to say?" Ethan quietly chuckles. "I was focused on my own test, so I didn't really notice what he was doing." He pauses, then adds, "Although… I did get the feeling that someone kept turning around to look at me." I stare at him in disbelief. "Me? Looking at you? I never even looked your way!" Victoria's expression hardens, and her voice rises. "You're still going to argue with me? "You ranked 23rd in the class on the last exam, and now, all of a sudden, you're in the top ten?" Before I can respond, she picks up my exam paper and casually draws a thick line through my score. "Since you cheated, I'm giving you a failing grade on this exam." She looks at me coldly. "And you'll write a 3,000-word self-criticism." My heart sinks. "Otherwise, you can forget about staying in school."

After the holiday, the student council president assigns me the task of mentoring a freshman named Mona Leach. I text her to discuss the task at hand, but she ignores my messages. When she finally replies to me, her words are scathing. "I'm a freshman, but that doesn't mean you can harass me just because you're my senior. I have a boyfriend." Just as I'm wondering how she even got the idea that I'm interested in her, I see her complaining in the student council group chat. She writes, "Just because he's a senior doesn't mean he can harass a freshman. I already told him I have a boyfriend, but he keeps bothering me. I barely started my freshman year, and I have to deal with such disgusting behavior. This is going to traumatize me." What's this about me harassing her? My family has billions in assets that I'll inherit sooner or later. Heiresses from other wealthy families are lining up to marry me. Why would I ever need to harass her?

Someone steals my takeout at the school gate. It is from a BBQ restaurant. Not only does the thief eat it all, but he also humiliates me in front of my classmates. He mocks, "Look, everyone! This is what a pauper would eat. Even my dog eats better than this!" He pulls out a stack of cash and slaps one bill against my face. Then, he tosses the rest into the air. "Happy birthday, beggar!" Three days later, he is burned to death in the alley behind the school, his limbs stretched out and tied to a tree. He is literally "grilled." And I become the murderer.

The entire school thought I was the school belle Wanda Stewart's biggest simp. I would send her breakfast during her morning run. I would offer her a towel and water during her matches. I would buy her pancakes from three streets away in the bitter cold just because she said she was hungry in the middle of the night. The boys in school who liked her could form a line from the mathematics department to the field. The look in their eyes changed from disdain to hatred. "He hasn't managed to pursue her even after all that simping. He really can take things in his stride." "Wanda is just good-natured. That's why she hasn't called the police." When the school hunk, Connor Graham, decided to publicly confess to Wanda, I became his greatest eyesore. While Wanda was out of school for a match, Connor came to me with his gang from the student council, kicking away the breakfast I bought for myself. Hot milk spilled all over me. He arched a brow and said with zero sincerity in his voice, "I'm sorry. I thought it was yet another bunch of trash you prepared for Wanda." With that, he pulled his phone out and flashed a remark that Wanda had made about me on the screen in the classroom. [A pain in the neck.] The entire class burst out laughing. Connor looked at me, clearly pleased. "See that? She finds you annoying. A man like you, stalking a girl all day, washing her clothes and sending her food... Don't you feel so cheap doing that?" Horace Jones, who stood behind him, chuckled. Connor smacked a letter of guarantee on my chest. [I willingly give up pursuing Wanda Stewart and will never send her food or water, follow her around, or pester her again.] "You can choose not to sign it." He waved his phone, a threatening smile on his face. "I'll just post a photo of you stealing Wanda's undergarment on the school's social media page." I looked at the photo of the white tank top I was keeping on the balcony of my own house and fell into deep thought. Wait. Since when did helping my sister with her laundry count as stealing?

At eleven o’clock at night, I was racking my brains trying to solve the last physics question when a text popped up in my phone. It was Denise Chadburn, the top student in our class. [Pancakes from the west of the city and black tea with two cubes of sugar.] That was in the opposite direction from my house and would take me over half an hour to get there and back. I didn’t want to do it, so I texted her back: [I’m sorry, I need to get to class early tomorrow and can’t go there.] Denise never texted back after that. I thought that was the end of it. Ten minutes later, my homeroom teacher, Ms. Sable, texted me. [Jordan Schmidt, Denise is preparing for the regional Olympiad and is under much pressure. She also has gastric issues. Half an hour of extra studying wouldn’t do your dismal results any good anyway. Help bring our top student some breakfast to save her time.] I stared at my phone screen, my jawline tightening. [Ms. Sable, it’s out of the way for me. It’ll take me half an hour longer on the road.] Ms. Sable sent me a voice message. “Jordan, you’ve got to be more flexible. The fact you were paired up with Denise in our one-to-one mentoring program is to your advantage. She’s smart. A piece of advice from her is more helpful to you than rote learning by yourself for half an hour. Shouldn’t you at least try being helpful to her?” I ignored her texts and left my phone screen to turn dark, reflecting the fatigue on my face.

After my girlfriend, Rebecca Quinn, plotted to have me killed, I finally realized just how deeply she hated me. In my previous life, she dreamed of becoming a star. I poured money into her career and pulled every string I could, personally turning her into a rising A-list actress. Yet Rebecca never showed a shred of gratitude. Instead, she conspired with her lover to murder me and told me, "All that money you spent to make me famous was just your way of raising your own cash cow." When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back at the moment a director arrived at my school to cast the female lead.

After I secured early admission to one of the country's most prestigious universities, my old high school invited me back to sit for the State Scholars Exam and compete for the top statewide score. But just ten minutes into the math paper, the proctor out of nowhere accused me of cheating. "Everyone else starts with the multiple-choice section. You went straight for the proofs. Were you planning to copy someone else's answers later?" Before I could explain a single word, he dragged me into the boys' restroom. Not only was I humiliated and forced to strip, I also had to let him inspect me over and over again to confirm that I had no cheating devices on my body. After I returned to the exam room, I decided it was better not to cause more trouble, so I started from the multiple-choice section like everyone else. But less than five minutes after I sat down, he yanked me up again. "This is even more fake. You didn't even take time to read or think through the questions before writing down the options. If that isn't cheating, what is?" "I suspect you knew the answers in advance. I'm reporting this to the exam board right now and having your exam qualification revoked!"

The year I was at my lowest, a wealthy family came for me, claiming I was their real son. The school beauty I had secretly admired was officially my fiancée. While I was still stunned by the surprise, suddenly, comments started scrolling across my view. [This is the turning point. The male lead’s parents take the supporting male home, forcing him to drop out. His fiancée gets him sick, and in the end, they see him as bad luck and brutally kill him.] My hand froze around the paternity test report. My father’s eyes glistened with tears as he took the report from me. “My child, you’ve suffered so much all these years. Don’t worry, come home with us and rest. You’re our son, and the family company is enough to support you for life. You don’t even need to take the SATs.” The school beauty lowered her head, her voice soft and teasing in my ear. “Levi, be good. Studying is too hard. From now on, I’ll take care of you.”

After begging my dad for the 100th time to let me come back home for school, he finally gave in. Before the semester started, he warned me repeatedly. “There is an underground clique around campus. Every year, they single out one freshman who attracts too much attention and make that person their punching bag. “They are careful about covering their tracks. We’ve looked into them for a long time and still have nothing solid. Keep your head down and watch your back.” I nodded, then I remembered that I had recently joined the incoming-freshman group chat. I opened it and intended to ask if anyone knew anything about the clique, only to discover that someone had tagged me. [Damn, we found our first poser already? @Henry] I frowned and tapped on the guy’s profile. The username was “PoserPolice.” The guy was one of the most active people in the group chat. [Henry? Of course the poser has some old-money-sounding name.] The completely unprovoked hostility made my face darken. [My parents gave me that name. What’s your problem?] He ignored my reply and posted a photo in the chat. [Well, well… Nice flex, man. Which influencer did you steal this pic from?] It was just a random photo he had dug up from my social media, except he had circled the Porsche barely visible in one corner. [Steals a luxury-car pic, then tries to act all low-key about it. Dude, you aren’t fooling anyone.] By the end of the day, every freshman in the group knew who I was.