Free Web NovelChapter 3: The Secret Lives Of Desperate College Students
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The moment I stepped out of the café after my shift ended, the noise didn’t follow me.
It just... stopped.
The door swung shut behind me with a soft chime, and the world on the other side felt completely different, like I’d walked out of a storm and into something oddly still.
The constant sound of voices, the hiss of the espresso machine, the clatter of cups and movement that had filled every second of my shift...all of it faded so quickly that for a moment, the silence felt louder than the noise ever did.
The evening air was cooler than I expected, brushing against my face as I paused just outside the entrance, letting it settle into my skin. The sky was caught somewhere between gold and deepening blue, the last of the daylight stretching thin across the horizon while campus lights flickered on one after another, casting everything in a soft, warm glow.
I reached up and pulled my hoodie over my head, the fabric falling into place like something familiar, something that let me finally loosen the tight grip I’d been holding on myself all day.
And just like that, the energy slipped out of me.
It wasn’t dramatic, not sudden enough to make me stop moving completely, but I felt it in the way my shoulders dropped, in the way my steps lost that quick, automatic rhythm I’d had inside the café. My legs felt heavier then, the dull ache settling in as if it had just been waiting for permission to exist, and my arms followed shortly after, the tension easing out in slow, quiet waves.
I started walking.
The path ahead stretched through campus, lined with trees that swayed gently in the evening breeze, their leaves catching the light in soft flickers. Students were scattered across the walkways and open spaces, some gathered in small groups, others drifting along without much urgency, their laughter carrying easily through the air.
There was a calmness to it, a kind of unspoken understanding that the day was winding down, that whatever came next could wait a little longer.
It was... nice.
In a distant sort of way.
My hands slipped into the pockets of my hoodie as I walked, my gaze drifting without really focusing on anything in particular, and somewhere between one step and the next, my thoughts started to fill the quiet.
I should probably introduce myself...my name is Oliver Reyes, and I’m a third-year student at one of the most expensive universities I definitely could not afford.
A faint huff of amusement followed, quiet and brief, more of a feeling than an actual sound.
Hawthorne University.
Even then, it still felt a little ridiculous that I was there.
The place looked exactly like what you’d expect from something people only talked about in hushed, impressed tones, wide, perfectly maintained lawns that somehow never lost their color, tall buildings with intricate designs that felt more like they belonged in a museum than a school, and students who walked around like this was just... normal for them.
Like this level of privilege was something they’d never had to question.
And then there was me. Somehow existing in the same space.
I was the scholarship student, my thoughts continued, dry and almost amused. Miracle acceptance, walking reminder that the admissions office makes questionable decisions sometimes.
It had taken everything to get in.
There hadn’t been room for mistakes, not with the kind of competition this place attracted. Every grade, every test, every late night spent forcing myself to stay awake just a little longer...it had all been leading to that one moment, that one email that could have easily gone the other way.
I still remembered staring at the screen when it came through, reading the words over and over like they might change if I looked away for too long.
They didn’t, and now I was here. Which, in theory, sounded like a success story that your parents would tell you like "if you study and work hard, you’ll get into a fancy university, graduate and live a great life!"
In reality, I was barely surviving.
The thought slid in so casually it almost made me smile.
I adjusted the strap of my bag on my shoulder, shifting the weight as I passed by a group of students sitting on the grass, their voices blending together in easy conversation.
Someone laughed loudly, another voice complained about an assignment due next week like it was the worst thing in the world, and I had to fight the urge to laugh at that too.
Next week sounded like a luxury.
I was a full-time student, I continued in my head, the words lining up like a list I’d memorized without meaning to. Part-time barista, part-time flower shop cashier, and part-time tutor.
It sounded excessive when I put it like that.
Because it was.
The café alone took more out of me than I liked to admit, the constant movement, the endless stream of customers, the pressure to keep everything running smoothly without letting anything slip.
The flower shop was quieter, slower, filled with soft music and the scent of fresh blooms that clung to my clothes long after I left, but it still ate up hours I didn’t really have.
And tutoring, that was just me pretending I had my life together well enough to help someone else with theirs.
Spoiler alert: I didn’t.
My lips twitched slightly at that, the humor settling in as easily as the exhaustion.
The truth was, I didn’t really stop moving.
If I wasn’t working, I was studying, if I wasn’t studying, I was working, and if, by some miracle, I was doing neither—
I was thinking about what I should be doing instead instead of actually relaxing.
I might just die at this rate, haha!
My steps carried me further down the path, past another cluster of students, past a couple walking side by side with their shoulders brushing lightly together, past the glow of a lamppost that cast long shadows across the ground.
There was a rhythm to it, to that constant cycle I’d built for myself, not a comfortable one. But a necessary one.
Money, time, effort, my thoughts continued, steady and familiar. Calculate, adjust, repeat.
It never really stopped.
How much I had left. How much I needed. How long I could stretch what was already barely enough. Which shift I could pick up, which one I couldn’t afford to miss, how many hours I could sacrifice before it started affecting everything else.
It was like a quiet background process running all the time, something I’d gotten so used to that I didn’t even notice it most days. And when I did, I just... kept going. ƒгeewebnovёl.com
And when I wasn’t calculating money, I added, the thought almost light despite everything, I was thinking of more ways to make it.
There was always something.
Another shift, another side job, another idea that might help just enough to make things a little easier.
A soft breeze passed through again, cooler now as the evening settled in deeper, and I pulled my hoodie a little tighter around myself without really thinking about it.
The campus stretched out ahead of me, calm and steady and completely unchanged, like it had no idea that anything was wrong.
Like nothing ever really was, not there.
I kept walking, my pace even, my thoughts quieter now but still there, lingering just beneath the surface.
The path curved slightly as I moved farther across campus, the crowd thinning out the deeper I went, the noise fading into something softer and more distant. My steps fell into an easy rhythm again, steady and familiar, my mind still half caught in that quiet loop of numbers and schedules that never really left me alone.
My phone buzzed in my pocket
The sound cut through everything, sharp enough to pull my attention immediately, and without thinking too much about it, I pulled it out as I kept walking, my thumb already unlocking the screen before I even checked who it was from.
For a split second, I expected Joey.
Another update, maybe. Another attempt at reassurance that I didn’t fully believe but would accept anyway because I didn’t really have a better option.
It wasn’t him.
The notification sat there, plain and simple, like it didn’t understand the kind of timing it had just chosen.
It was the Hospital Billing Reminder. My steps didn’t stop, but they did slow, just slightly.
I stared at the message longer than I probably should have, my eyes scanning the words even though I already knew exactly what they said.
Payment due by tomorrow.
Then I locked my phone.
My hand dropped back to my side, fingers tightening just a little around the device before I slipped it into my pocket again, like putting it away somehow lessened the weight of it.
It didn’t.
But it was close enough.
My gaze lifted back to the path ahead, and I exhaled slowly, the air leaving my lungs in a controlled, steady breath that didn’t quite match the way my chest felt a little tighter than it had a moment ago.
Seven months ago, my dad was diagnosed with some kind of liver disease.
That’s what they called it.
Years of drinking, years of ignoring it, years of pretending it wasn’t as bad as it clearly was until it finally caught up in a way that couldn’t be brushed off anymore.
And now, now it was hospital rooms, quiet beeping machines, doctors who spoke in careful tones, and bills that never seemed to stop coming.
Every month without fail.
Missing even one payment wasn’t really an option, not if I wanted him to keep getting treatment.
Not if I wanted—
I cut the thought off before it could go any further, my jaw tightening slightly before I forced it to relax again.There was no point going down that road, I already knew where it led.
So instead, I let out a quiet breath and tilted my head back just a little, staring up at the darkening sky for a brief moment before looking forward again.
"Honestly," I thought, the words slipping through my mind with a dry kind of humor that felt almost automatic at that point, "I’m doing great!"
My route shifted naturally as I left the main campus paths behind, the well-maintained walkways giving way to quieter streets that felt less polished, less curated. The lights weren’t as bright there, the buildings not as impressive, but there was something about it that felt more real, more grounded in a way that Hawthorne never quite did.
That was where I actually existed.
Not the version of me that walked through campus pretending everything was fine.
Just... me.
The familiar outline of my apartment building came into view after a few more minutes, and even from a distance, it looked exactly the same as it always did.
A little worn. ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm
A little uneven around the edges.
It wasn’t anything special, not compared to the dorms or the luxury apartments some of the other students lived in, but it was mine, or at least, it had been and there was a comfort in that familiarity that settled into me before I even reached the front.
Because something felt off.
At first, it was small enough that I almost missed it, just a faint shift in the air that didn’t quite match what I was used to. My steps slowed slightly as I got closer, my eyes narrowing just a little as I took in the scene ahead.
There were people outside.
More people than usual.
A small cluster gathered near the entrance, their voices low but noticeable in the otherwise quiet evening, their attention focused on something I couldn’t fully see yet from where I was standing.
My gaze lifted, drawn instinctively toward the building, toward the row of windows I knew by heart, toward the exact spot where...I could see it, the darkened patch. The place that used to be mine.
Turns out, Joey had lied...it wasn’t a small fire. The dorm room was probably gone completely!
