Chapter 1: Welcome to the Nightmare

I transmigrated into the female lead of a campus erotic novel, where the heroine pretends to be a guy. The opening scene is a total disaster: my roommate discovers my secret.

My heart jackhammered in my chest, like I’d just seen a ghost in my dorm room. I half-expected the soundtrack from some cringey teen movie to start playing. The stale scent of college dorm detergent mixed with that ever-present mildew clung to the air, grounding me in this wild, surreal reality.

According to the plot, I’d be blackmailed into sleeping with my roommate, then caught in the act by another. Word would spread like wildfire, and I’d end up as the shared girlfriend of the whole school.

A wave of panic threatened to swamp me, but I’d watched enough trashy daytime TV to know what happens to girls who just go along with the script. I wasn’t about to let my life turn into a Jerry Springer episode.

To avoid this tragic fate, I flipped the script.

When my roommate grabbed my waist and said, “You sure you want everybody finding out what you’re hiding?” I just lifted my knee and pressed it against his crotch.

The moment my knee connected, I saw the cocky gleam in his eyes fade. Every guy in America knows—mess with a girl’s boundaries, and you better be ready to protect your own. I learned that from my Aunt Carol back in Tallahassee.

My hand stung before I even made contact, adrenaline buzzing in my fingertips. Then, with a sharp slap across his face, I grinned wickedly: “I don’t care if my secret gets out, but you probably wouldn’t want anyone else joining us, would you?”

He recoiled, nursing his pride and his, well, everything else. For a second, he looked less like a bully and more like a kid who’d just lost a bet. The room felt different now—like maybe I actually had a fighting chance.