Campus Missed Connections Novels & Stories

CHAPTER 22: "No one notices the strongest person breaking... because they've never seen them ask for help." Wednesday. 8:17 A.M. The campus of San Diego University buzzed with an energy that hadn't been felt in months. Students crowded the walkways, laughter echoing between buildings as the familiar sound of Messenger notifications chimed from every direction. Someone shouted from the parking lot. "Pre! Lumabas na!" Within seconds, more voices joined in. "Legit ba?!"

Instructing the insurance company on the details of the fire and providing them with the necessary information was a crucial step in moving forward from the aftermath of the incident. Glancing at my phone, I notice a string of missed calls and texts from my wife, a pang of guilt tugging at my heart. Thirteen missed calls, each one a silent plea for reassurance and connection. Despite the urge to call her back immediately, I know that speaking to her on the phone right now would only add to her worry and stress. Opting for a different approach, I decide to leave her a message, a brief reassurance that I am safe and will be home soon.

"Oh right, sorry to hold you up! Hey, we should catch up sometime, Maddie. Remember those late-night study sessions at the campus café?" I laughed at the memory. "How could I forget? You practically lived on energy drinks." "I still do! Here, let me get your number. We can grab a coffee and reminisce about the good old days." Before I could respond, Alexander cleared his throat. "Madison, we're running late." "Just a sec," I said, reciting my number to Nolan as he typed it into his phone. "Great! I'll text you so you have mine, too." Nolan's enthusiasm hadn't changed since college. "Don't be a stranger!"

Ann: "You both were the only ones with distinction in your department. Don't tell me you don't know they've been recommending you on the school platform?" Me: "Oh, that. Thanks." Ann: "Wait, you're not even on the school forum?" Me: "Yeah, I'm not. Why?" Ann: "Then how do you get messages concerning the school?" Me: "Well, the school is responsible enough to send all vital information like semester start dates, tuition, and all that to our individual emails." Ann: "Oh, I see." Ann: "Actually, Mike and I are not da—" I cut her off.

I pulled out my phone under the desk and texted her again. Mel, where are you? I’m getting worried. The message sat there. Undelivered.Just like the fifteen other messages I’d sent since yesterday. My stomach twisted. Something was wrong. Professor Eddie finally dismissed us. I grabbed my bag and headed straight out, ignoring the other students trying to make small talk. I needed to find Kane.He’d know what was going on. He always knew. I tried calling him as I walked across campus. Straight to voicemail. Again. I’d been trying to reach him since this morning. Nothing.

The day that was supposed to mark a fresh start, a day to leave everything behind. But first, I needed to see Reid. The campus was filled with students and their excitement was palpable as they waited for their diplomas. I scanned the crowd and searched for him. But he wasn't here. A knot formed in my stomach. Without thinking, I pulled out my phone and dialed his number. No answer. I tried again and again. On the third call, someone finally picked up. But it wasn't Reid's voice. "Who's calling?" a man's voice asked.

Charli “Miss Collins, missing one day of class does not usually result in a discussion with your counseling faculty. Your case appears to be unique.” I sat perched on the edge of a chair in my faculty counselor’s office, facing her desk as she shuffled through notes. “I don’t understand. I called yesterday afternoon and explained the situation.” “Your name is associated with our school. The most recent newscast has you listed as a first-year student.”

Charli “Miss Collins, missing one day of class does not usually result in a discussion with your counseling faculty. Your case appears to be unique.” I sat perched on the edge of a chair in my faculty counselor’s office, facing her desk as she shuffled through notes. “I don’t understand. I called yesterday afternoon and explained the situation.” “Your name is associated with our school. The most recent newscast has you listed as a first-year student.”

He said, adjusting his blue glasses firmly. “Thank you Sir,” I responded without another word, and stepped out of the office. My pace quickened as I strode to my faculty as I don't have the new timetable. Safe to say I missed half of this last semester's lectures. I brought out my phone, my fingers tapped lightly but swiftly on the buttons as I dialed Diane's contact. After several rings without response, I called Marvel instead, I heard the loud grasp of her tone from the other end. "Hello, is this Mia or..."

I continued to scratch my pen in the hopes that he had discovered a lifeline. As the school's hum faded, closing hours approached. Dario's typical text message, "On my way, my mentor," which cheered me up after a difficult day, was what I was expecting when I packed my luggage. I didn't hear anything on my phone. When I looked at it twice and scrolled through our discussion, all I saw was my morning "Good luck, CEO!" As I imagined him pacing in his wheelchair with papers scattered in his glass-walled office, I wondered if the Connect Corps disarray had become worse. Meetings are drowning him, and investors are breathing down his neck.