Scumbag Campus Maiikling Kwento at Nobela

After my father, Peter Johnson, remarried, everyone told me that I had two nemeses. One was my biological mother, Lilian Reid, who had left me to live overseas. Another one was my stepmother, Gloria Black, who had basically taken my father away. Lilian would send me monthly text messages, though, asking if I had enough money. I never answered any of them. Gloria would also often come to my school to give me presents, but I never opened them. They both thought that I hated them. When I was expelled due to overdue school fees, both of them appeared at the same time. My homeroom teacher, Joanne Anderson, placed the overdue bill on the desk. “In order not to spend twenty dollars on her hearing aid’s batteries, your daughter was unable to focus on class for two years.” Lilian’s face fell. “I send her fifty grand every month!” Gloria was also stunned. “I saved up fifty grand for her, too! How is it possible that her school fees are overdue?” I stared at them for a long time without talking. Nancy Andrew, the nanny who took care of me, had told me that Lilian had a new family and that, because of that, she was unwilling to take care of me. Peter, my father, had also told me that Gloria was afraid that I would go after his money, so she was not willing to spend a single cent on me. However, Lilian took out twelve bank transaction slips, while Gloria pulled up a savings account with my name on it. The money that they gave every single month was clearly banked into that same account. But I did not have access to that bank account. I was just about to ask them about it when I suddenly heard Peter’s voice coming from outside. “Why are both of you here?”

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.

At the mall, I bent down to pick up my phone. By the time I stood up, my boyfriend and best friend were already thirty feet ahead of me. I had just wanted to call out, but the place that once belonged to me was slowly being closed. They walked side by side, still discussing investment terms I could not understand. It was as though there had never been anyone between them. In college, Sean and Wendy had been the brightest students in the business school. After graduation, they became the youngest deputy CEOs in the investment banking industry. No matter how hard I worked, I could only manage an administrative job at a small company and barely touched the edge of their world. Sean liked to pinch my cheek. "It's okay. Being a little slow is cute, too." Then, he would turn to Wendy, and the two of them could sketch out an entire merger plan with a single glance. Watching them walk away, I suddenly felt exhausted. I didn't want to keep chasing Sean down a road where I'd always fall behind.

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?

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.

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.

Over the long weekend, I went on a trip with my boyfriend, Henry Dolan. The second I got in the car, I saw another girl in the back seat. Henry smiled. "This is Jenny Edgar. She was a year behind us in college. She's headed the same way, so I figured we could use the company." Jenny turned and smiled at me. "Don't worry. I won't get in your way. I just needed a ride." I swallowed hard and said nothing. At the hotel, I was about to unlock the room when Jenny rolled her suitcase in behind me. Henry acted like it was no big deal. "It doesn't make sense for her to get her own room. The three of us can share and save money. She can sleep on the couch." Jenny was already sitting on the edge of the bed, looking up at me. "I'll take the couch. I won't bother you two." I stared at Henry's calm, casual face, and my stomach turned. "Fine. You two stay here. I'll get another room."

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.

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.

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.

Marie Hail had been groomed since childhood to be the perfect good girl. Every aspect of her life was tightly controlled. Her parents approved the colors she wore, forbade her from wearing skirts above the knee, and insisted she take small bites and chew each mouthful thoroughly. She was little more than a marionette, with her parents pulling the strings and dictating her every move. However, everything began to change when she turned eighteen and met Rylan Stafford, a boy who burst into her carefully controlled world like a blazing sun. Rylan had striking features, bright, lively eyes, and a wild, uninhibited laugh. More importantly, he was everything Marie had never dared to be. He took her on reckless motorcycle rides to the beach and drove her across the mountains to watch meteor showers. He even gave her a tattoo, a symbol of freedom inked onto her back. Through him, Marie discovered a world beyond the suffocating rules that had governed her life. As he encouraged her to challenge every restriction holding her back, she gradually found the courage to break free and embrace a passion she'd never known. Rylan was a living flame, and Marie willingly let herself be consumed by him. One day, he asked, "Princess, how about we turn in blank exam papers together during finals?"