17

“I still don’t know about this dorm room situation,” Mom said.

“Honey, she made her choice. We agreed to let her make her own decision,” Dad murmured.

“But the apartments we saw were beautiful. And she’d have her privacy.”

“Rena, stop it.”

“Just try to talk to her, Peter. Please?”

I sighed. “I can hear you two, you know.”

Mom smiled at me hesitantly and Dad shook his head. As I rolled my last suitcase out the front door of our beautiful two-story home, I didn’t let their conversation dampen my spirits. I was excited to be rooming with my best friend, Hannah. I’d met her during orientation last year when we were both freshmen. And we seemed to latch on to one another. She was peppy and loud, with a boisterous laugh and curves that made every available boy on campus come over and talk to us just to get in good with her. She loved big costume jewelry and clothes that were a size too small. And through it all, we helped one another get through the tumultuous insanity that was freshman yea