Confession time: I am a helicopter kid.

You read all those stories about parents who hover around when their kids go to college, calling, texting and e-mailing all the time. Well, I’m the opposite.

I talk to my parents at least twice a day on the phone and frequently throw in an e-mail or a text message for good measure.

That changed yesterday. Sometime between 1 and 3 in the afternoon, my cell phone went missing. Obviously, this was a cause for distress. I had no means of contact with my parents (dorm rooms don’t come equipped with phones anymore) and had lost a list of phone numbers I’ve spent the last three years accumulating. And I have no timekeeping device.

I tore apart my room. Walked to every place I’d been while calling, to no avail. It appears to have vanished into thin air.

I go to a school with a strict honor code, so I’m hoping someone will turn it in. If that doesn’t happen by Friday, I’m off to the Verizon store.

So for the next few days, I’m flying solo, helicopter kid no more. And I’m scared.

I have e-mail, but I can’t call my dad just to chat and hear his voice. I can’t call my mom from the grocery store to ask her if something is a good price. And I can’t call my brother to exchange quotes from The Office.

So, today, I begin a new adventure. For three days. I hope I make it.