Mom Sent Me a Bill

On day four of freshman orientation, I stared at my message forever, typing and deleting it over and over before finally hitting send.

[Mom, orientation's almost over. If I skip breakfast, I won't have enough energy for everything today. Can you just send me $3?]

She replied almost instantly.

Then I read it.

[$3? An egg is only $1.50. Why do you need that much? Are you trying to scam me?]

My stomach twisted.

Sweat slid down my temple.

I was starving.

Still, I kept my reply calm.

[One egg isn't enough. I want a plain bagel too.]

This time, she left me on read.

My roommates had already eaten and were getting ready to head to the field for orientation.

I pressed a hand to my growling stomach and glanced at my roommate's desk.

A box of fresh pastries sat there, looking way too good.

Chloe Quinn had the bed next to mine. Total rich girl.

On move-in day, her parents took one look at our six-person dorm and frowned.

They were worried she wouldn't sleep well—and that her attitude might start drama with the rest of us.

I still remembered Chloe's mom, some big-shot executive, asking all five of us to be patient with her daughter.

My own mom had never done anything like that.

Right then, Chloe was freaking out over a hole in her orientation T-shirt.

I hesitated, then swallowed my pride and grabbed mine.

"Chloe, I'll trade you. But could you... give me one of those pastries?"

A few heads turned.

Then came the snickering.

"Wow. Is she seriously that desperate for food? Doesn't her family feed her?"

My face burned, but I couldn't even argue.

Because once college started, my family really had stopped feeding me.