Historias cortas de Tragic Love Romance y novelas ambientadas en Campus

Thor and I grew up together—we were the definition of childhood sweethearts. We'd promised to attend the same university, graduate, and marry right after senior year. Everyone envied us. They said we were a perfect match, destined for a lifetime together. And I believed that too. I truly thought I'd spend the rest of my life with him. Until the final semester of our senior year in high school, when a new transfer student named Lina joined our class. At first, the two barely spoke. But as they grew familiar, their bond deepened in ways I could no longer ignore. He started staying after school to tutor her, bringing her breakfast every morning. When she was upset, he'd take her for a drive along the coast. If she craved Italian steak, he'd have fresh cuts flown in. Even during her period, he'd quietly prepare everything she needed. I was furious. I confronted him, argued with him, and even threatened to break up. The first time I said it, he thought I was joking and coaxed me out of my anger. The second time, he dismissed it as another tantrum and tried different ways to please me. The third time, he broke down—standing outside my house in the pouring rain all night, half kneeling before me, begging for forgiveness. Again and again, I tried to leave, and every time, he refused to let me go. Yet with each reconciliation, something in him shifted. He started taking me for granted, assuming I would always come back. His patience wore thin. His apologies turned perfunctory. Even when he came to make peace, there was no sincerity left in his voice. So I said it for the hundredth time, and that was the last. That was the moment I finally gave up on him.

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.

During my mother's prenatal testing, the doctor discovers that I, the baby she's carrying, have the XYY syndrome. Since Mom's health is frail, it will be hard for her to have another baby. My parents somberly decide to have me anyway. When I'm in elementary school, my nanny is playing with me when I accidentally break her arm by stepping on it. During middle school, a few thugs try to rob me on the street, only to end up in the hospital because of me. This one incident makes me famous. Word keeps spreading until I become known as a bully in school. No one dares to offend me at all. I've since graduated from college. During a class reunion with my college classmates, Zoey Johnson, my girlfriend of three years, brings Michael Greer, her male best friend, with her. When a game of Truth or Dare starts, Michael bluntly shares one of Zoey's secrets. "I know she has a mole on one of her nips." He looks smug about what he has just revealed. Everyone else has fallen silent. After glancing at Zoey, who's sitting beside Michael, I pull her off the couch and say, "Take your top off. Let's see if he's telling the truth."

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 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?

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.

Retired teacher Ryder Jensen appears on a talk show. His former students are spread across every field, with many becoming CEOs and renowned scientists. But when asked who left the deepest impression, his smile turns bitter. "The one who completely ruined his life. He was the top student in his grade, yet he dated the class' bottom-ranked delinquent. To save his future, I intercepted his love letter, rewrote it as a scathing roast, and read it out loud at a parent-teacher meeting. That broke them up. "But things didn't go as planned. He failed his exams, while that delinquent made it into a top-tier college and became a financial tycoon. Life has a cruel sense of humor." Saddened by the story, the host asks if Ryder has any words for that student. Ryder lets out a long breath, tears welling in his eyes. "He wouldn't hear me anyway. He was diagnosed with leukemia and couldn't afford the treatment. He passed away three years ago." The interview segment is clipped and posted online, instantly blowing up on social media. Meanwhile, Eliza Woods, the woman at the heart of the story, has no idea. She just wrapped up an international finance conference and is rushing to buy a top-tier graphics card for her fiance, Theo Holland.

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.

The day high school seniors across Cedarhaven received their college decisions, my own graduation ceremony had just ended. Adrian Hawthorne came to meet me outside the campus with Celeste Monroe, his newly divorced former sister-in-law. He had barely offered me the sunflowers in his hand when Celeste brushed them aside with a laugh. "Sunflowers? You could try harder if you're courting a young woman." Adrian smiled and handed the bouquet to her. "Then you choose. Clara will like whatever you pick." I stood beside them without finding a place in the conversation. Celeste patted his shoulder. "Your tie is crooked. There are too many people here for you to embarrass me." Adrian lowered his head and let her straighten it. After the graduation photographs, he drew Celeste close and told me, "You're good with a camera. Take a few more pictures of us." For three years, every movie meant for two came with a third ticket, and every anniversary dinner had been chosen around another woman's restrictions. I had protested before, but whenever the argument ended, I was always the one Adrian set aside. Then Celeste accidentally left her phone in my purse, and I saw the photograph on her lock screen. Across the image were the words: July 2 - finally free. The same date was engraved beneath Adrian's watch. He called impatiently, "Clara, hurry. Celeste can't wait all day." I stared at the screen for several seconds and deleted the photograph. Everyone online was discussing how to choose the right college, and I finally understood something too. When the first choice is wrong, you withdraw before it is too late. There was no reason to keep a photograph of Adrian and me either.

After my half sister, Serena Hawke, transferred to Ashmere University, she bet me she could steal Damian Cross from me within a month. I dismissed her. From that day on, Damian became a permanent second-place finisher. The first time Serena beat him, he frowned and said, "One point. I only lost by one point." After that, he calculated their scores every day. Over meals, he muttered, "How did she solve it?" Before bed, he stared at the rankings and said, "I'll beat her next time." He praised her clear reasoning, quick reactions, and even her handwriting. In the laboratory, he chose the seat beside her and responded only to her during group discussions. When I asked him to see a movie with me, he waved me off. "Serena sent me a new problem. I need to work it out." His phone was full of screenshots of her notes. Her class schedule hung beside his bed. Even in his sleep, he murmured about surpassing her. I watched the attention that had once belonged entirely to me shift toward my sister, inch by inch. Then my birthday came. Damian never showed up. I called thirty-seven times. He rejected every call. When he finally answered, he lowered his voice. "Rena asked me to watch the game with her. Wait a little longer." He hung up, and Serena immediately sent me her location: the third-floor lounge at the arena. When I opened the door, her arms were wrapped around his neck. The thread I had held taut inside my chest for half a year finally snapped. All that remained was a deep, aching exhaustion that seeped into my bones. Damian reached toward me in panic. "Rowan..." I stepped back. Anyone who could be taken from me was no longer someone I wanted.

The graduate school admissions are nearing an end. At the same time, a post titled, "What Happened to the Boy Who Left the Last Two Questions Blank for You?" goes viral. Amid countless comments criticizing people who throw away their futures for love, one young woman's boastful comment stands out. She writes, "Back then, he left the last two questions blank just so he could attend the same college as me. Now, he gives up his chance to attend graduate school abroad so that we won't have to enter a long-distance relationship. He says that between his future and me, I'll always be more important." Those who know they are loved always have the confidence to take it for granted. As soon as the comment is posted, countless replies pour in. There are envious replies and increasing arguments over the topic. I feel a twinge of envy because my boyfriend and I are the exact opposite. When my boyfriend does poorly on his exam, I want to apply to the same college as him. However, he advises me against it, saying my future is more important. Yesterday, he tells me he fails to secure a graduate school recommendation and won't be able to go abroad with me to continue his studies. Staring at the two lines on the pregnancy test, I begin seriously thinking about our future. Perhaps because the young woman has received too many hateful comments, she eventually posts a photo showing her boyfriend's side profile. She gloats, "You're all just jealous because I have a handsome boyfriend who loves me this much, aren't you?" The instant I see the photo, my blood runs cold. The man in that picture belongs to Joshua Salter, my boyfriend of seven years. Everything from the past comes crashing over me like a tsunami. It turns out the signs have been there all along. I wipe away my tears. Joshua is right. Between my future and him, my future is indeed more important.

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

On the day of our graduation trip to Suttonvale, my boyfriend, Jarrett Duke, vanishes into thin air. As I pace around the airport in a panic, my roommate sends a cryptic text. "Big surprise coming your way today. Patience." I breathe a sigh of relief, instantly assuming Jarrett is running late because he's setting up a proposal. After all, he promised to put me in a wedding dress the moment we graduated. Then the class rep, Louie Fisher, drops a Venmo link in the group chat and tags everyone. "Huge thanks to everyone coming out for Jarrett and Sienna's engagement party! Three years together, and they're finally making it official!" The pool gets filled in seconds, and congratulations flood the chat. Finally, someone notices. "Holy shit, Louie! Did you forget to kick Olivia out of the group?" The chat drops dead silent. Seconds later, everyone starts tagging me. "Olivia, please don't show up and ruin this! They've kept their love secret for three whole years. It hasn't been easy for them!" "Seriously. You're so possessive Sienna couldn't even show her face without risking a fight!" Even our advisor chimes in to lecture me. "Do me a favor, Olivia. Don't make a scene. Let them have their moment." Their relentless words leave me suffocating, too drained even to fight back. It turns out the fairy-tale romance from high school to the altar is a lie. Every single thing about my last four years is a lie.

The night before our graduation, I find out that my girlfriend of four years, Naomi Walker, has been financially supporting a low-income student named Luca Brown. Every month, the money she saves from her living expenses goes straight to Luca. I confront her with my phone in hand. She falls silent before finally admitting, "Yes, I feel sorry for him. So what?" Four years together, and it all means less to her than her sympathy for him. I'm not ready to let things end like that. I push aside my sadness and stand beside her for our graduation photo. Then her roommate, Ava Jackson, comes rushing over. "Naomi! Luca heard you're getting engaged to Caspian after graduating, and he took a whole bottle of sleeping pills in the dorm!"

Before graduation, my boyfriend, Ethan Johnson and I planned a cross-country road trip. My roommate, Juliet Miller, kindly offered to organize our itinerary. On departure day, her luggage sat in the front seat. Her phone was connected to the car console. The only bed bore a tag ‘Juliet’s Spot.’ Ethan patted my head with a casual smile. “Juliet gets carsick in the back. Be good and sleep on the roof tent.” Driving through the desert that night, they left me at a gas station to guard our gear while they shot stargazing videos. I waited until dawn. Then Juliet posted a photo in our group chat. She wore my jacket in the passenger seat. Ethan’s arm rested behind her chair. My parents bought that RV. Now it was two hundred miles away. I didn’t chase them. As three was going to be a crowd, I stepped out.

Sophie Jordan and her boyfriend, Carter Jennings, had been in a long-distance relationship for four years while studying at different universities. During the semester break, Sophie took an eight-hour train ride to North Capital University to see Carter, but he was not around. The resident advisor looked her up and down with a smile. "Are you here for Carter Jennings? He isn't here for the semester break. He won't be back for a few days." Sophie's grip on her luggage tightened. "Is there some kind of mistake? He just told me that he's in his dorm." Sophie had texted Carter just minutes ago, and he told her he was tired and wanted to take a nap in his dormitory. "I have no reason to lie. Look, he wrote a note about it." The resident advisor showed her the note. "He left for Southern University to see his girlfriend. He always visits her during the holidays, rain or shine. "Carter Jennings loves his girlfriend a lot. Every guy in his dorm knows that! Look, his roommates are right there." His roommates were speaking about him. "Too bad Carter isn't around this long holiday. If he were here, we could’ve formed a team for that big competition!" "All he thinks about is his girlfriend. He's always with her during the holidays." "It takes five hours to travel to Southern University from here, but he doesn't find it tiring at all. When I asked him why his girlfriend doesn't come here to visit him instead, he said he didn't want to exhaust her with all the travelling. Dang, he must really love her!" The boys laughed as they walked past Sophie, and she heard everything they said. Her grip tightened gradually on her luggage as her excitement turned to fear. Southern University? She was not studying there. Who had her boyfriend been meeting without fail every semester break?

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 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.

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?"