Chapter 3: Love Struggles

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Luke was praising God when his parents' Ford Focus stopped in front of the O1 parking lot. He couldn't take the awkward questions his parents were throwing at him.

"So, what are your dinner plans for your first date? Are you going to make any reservations?" his dad asked.

"Make sure you get in touch with her, don't be a punk," his father advised. "Otherwise you'll take her to a seafood place when she's allergic to it, and then she'll end up itching all over, or dead from suffocation."

"That's true. People are allergic to everything these days."

"And make sure you pay for her food on this date and special occasions. After that it's equal rights. She won't cough up half, kick her to the curb."

"Gold diggers are a real nuisance, aren't they?"

"And another thing, don't try to have sex at the end of the date. You want this thing to last."

"Don't wanna be latched to a hooker."

"Finally..."

"Okay!" Luke shouted. "I get it."

"We just wanna make sure your first date is on fleek," his dad said.

"Exactly. We raised a gentleman, not a savage."

"I'll make sure to keep that in mind," Luke said as he undid the lock and opened the door to leave the car. "Thanks for the ride. I think I got it from here."
"Sure you don't want us to accompany you to your suite?" his dad asked.

"Babe, I think he's got it." His father wagged a finger at him, "Remember my advice, and you'll have yourself a steady relationship."

"Our little boy is growing up," his dad smiled. "I remembered when we first saw you. The lady who ran the foster care said to us, 'You don't want that kid. He's a little out of it.' We knew right there we had to adopt you." His dad was lost in memory. The reference to a time he barely remembered jogged back those images he saw before he woke up at the hospital.

He closed the door and his father rolled down the window. "Good luck son."

Luke waved and motioned towards the hill leading up to O1. Then he stopped and turned around, "Did they ever tell you where they found me? Not who my parents were, I know they didn't know."

"It was a stork," his dad said. "Might as well have been."

"Yeah, they had no clue. They found you at their doorstep sleeping on an open scroll. Freaking weird."

Luke thought to himself, Did Michael come back for me and drop me off at the orphanage? Or was it that—that thing that made me feel all warm?

Luke shook his head. Those images, they were just a dream montage. They mean nothing. Why should I think of them as memories?

"Why do you ask?" his dad wondered.

"Just curious," Luke said. "Talk to you guys later."

Luke waved at his parents and took off towards his dorm, Opus Hall, AKA O1. Opus Hall was a seven-story dormitory at the far reaches of campus, just scraping the wooded sections where deer and squirrels mingled together with students who came to smoke some of the plants that the animals fed off of.

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