Ivan cranks up the radio and headbangs to the song as he whips around corners.
“I heard they might cancel classes tomorrow,” Ivan yells over the music.
“‘Might cancel’ isn’t good enough,” I reply loudly.
“I thought you were in with the TA.” Ivan makes a left onto the hilly, winding road that leads to the West Campus. As we head down a hill, the Jeep hits a large puddle, and the tires spew water up over the passenger side window. “Damn! That was a good one!”
“I know the TA,” I tell him. “That doesn’t mean he’s going to give me a break or anything. I have a low B in Klosterman’s class, and I have to bring my grade up before finals. I can’t afford another C, or I’ll lose my scholarship.”
“Should have gone with sports, bro.”
Ivan makes another sharp turn and then comes
to an abrupt stop. I grab my backpack from the floor and sigh as I look out at the pouring rain and the sixty-foot walk between the car and the overhang near the door of the library.
Ivan reaches over and turns down the radio.
“You sure you want to do this?” he asks. “You know I’m working at Gym tonight. I won’t be able to pick you up later.”
Gym. Not the Gym, just Gym. It’s the nickname given to the venue where we practice that certain hobby, and I can hardly think of what he’ll be doing there as “work.”
“You could blow off the school shit and join me.” Ivan raises an eyebrow.
“I know,” I say, “but if I don’t finish this paper tonight, I’m fucked, and not in the good way.”
“Are you going to make the party tomorrow?”
“I plan on it, yeah. Rocco wanted some time with me.”
“How’s he doing?” Ivan asks. “I haven’t seen him for a couple of weeks.”
“Well, he’s making it to class at least. I think that’s about all he can manage right now. The doc at the health clinic is adjusting his meds.”
“I guess it’s good he reached out to you. You help him a lot, you know.”
“I know,” I say with a sigh, “but it’s all temporary. I wish I could do more for him.”
“That dude’s childhood is as fucked up as it gets. You can’t fix that.”
“The problem with his specific PTSD is that he’s got no support system at all. Veterans can talk to each other—there are specific help groups—but Rocco’s got no one. He still needs to move forward though. He just has to figure out how to do it without peers.”
“There have to be more people like him.”
“Yeah, but not many. Most of them never leave, and those that do aren’t exactly seeking each other out.”
“True. You going to do some research on him tonight?”
“Not for this paper, but I do plan on using him as my thesis case study next year. That’s assuming I get into the graduate program and if he agrees to let me use him.”
“Good luck with that.”
“Thanks.” I pull my hood up and reach for the door handle.
“Why can’t you do your research online like everyone else in the twenty-first century?” Ivan asks.
“The one and only research book I need is here, and they won’t let you check it out. Not available online at all.”
“Well, have fun!”