I thought my parents had lost their minds when they arrived at my dorm in ripped clothes with garbage bags. Then my dad told me who they were really watching.
“Dad… what are you wearing?”
He looked down at himself like nothing was wrong.
“Clothes.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Act like this is normal.”
My dad was standing in the middle of my college parking lot wearing ripped jeans, a faded T-shirt with a dark stain near the hem, and an old brown jacket I hadn’t seen him wear in years.
My mom looked even worse.
Her hair was messy. Her sweatshirt had holes near the cuffs.
There was dirt smudged across one side of her face.
And half my belongings were packed in black garbage bags. Actual garbage bags.
I stared at both of them. “Did something happen?”
Mom shrugged. “Long morning.”
That made no sense.
Then I looked past them. “Where’s Dad’s truck?”
Parked behind them was my uncle’s ancient blue minivan.
The thing had a dent in the side and one hubcap missing.
Dad glanced at it. “This one still runs.”
“Why are we using Uncle Mike’s van?”
“More room.”
“You own a truck.”
“Also true.”
I narrowed my eyes.
Something was going on.
Before I could press harder, a brand-new white SUV pulled into the space beside us.
I closed my eyes.
Of course. Perfect timing. My new roommate, Chloe, stepped out.
We’d been talking online for almost two months before move-in.
She seemed nice. Funny. Outgoing.
The kind of person who made conversation easily.
We’d already joked about staying up too late, decorating the room, and getting through freshman year together.
Now she walked toward us with her parents.
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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