In the Absence of Light

32

Ivy 

I hold into the door beside me, trying my best to ignore the rattling of the car beneath us. It almost feels like turbulence—like the wind is actually making the car move. I didn't know that was possible. I didn't notice it last time I was in here, but it wasn't so windy that day. Now I'm worried we might blow away.

We won't. I know we won't. It's ridiculous. It's just a normal car, only a little older and lighter. I'm just spoilt. I'm knit-picking, too. I keep having to tell myself that I'm safe, but it seems like I'm finding any possible excuse to feel the opposite. It's so stupid. I want to be here, and I know I'm safe, but the chemical imbalance in my brain is telling me otherwise.

That's what I need to remember. It's not me who feels that way, it's just the PTSD doing what it does best—overthinking, overexaggerating, and keeping me on edge. I know it's just trying to keep me safe, but it's taking it too far. Not everything is a warning sign.

I am safe.

I glance over at Isaac. He's not wearing a beanie today. His hair is wavy and messy but in a boyish way. He's watching the road with a scowl on his face, but when he notices me looking, a small smile pulls at the corner of his lips. I can't help but smile back when he looks over at me.

"You look nice," he says.

"Thank you. I didn't really know what to wear."

"Why?" He frowns. "Anything would be fine."

"I know, I just wanted to dress appropriately for the occasion."

"Well, this is good."

"It's not too formal, is it?"

"Nah, you're fine," he waves me off. "To be honest, you always dress a little more formal than the rest of us."

"Yeah," I nod. "I'm not good at the whole... hoodies and sweatpants thing."

"It's cool," he shrugs. "It's just your style."

"I guess so."

"It suits you, though. It's nice."

"Thanks, Isaac," I give him a sweet smile. "Your style is pretty different, too."

"Yeah, I don't really fuck with the polo shirts and khakis like the other guys on campus," he jokes.

"That's just the frat boys," I laugh. "No one sensible dresses like that."

"They may as well have 'douche' tattooed on their foreheads."

"Right?! Do they not realise how bad they look?"

"They're way too stupid for that."

"Good point."

See, Ivy? This is going fine. You're already laughing, and you haven't even reached wherever you're going yet!

"Nah, to be honest," Isaac begins. "My friends and I all dress the same, they just don't go to Princeton."

"Where do they go?"

"Not to college," he chuckles. "Most of them are trying to make it big in music, or just working full time."

"So, all of your friends are into music?"

"Oh, for sure. We used to spend our weekends listening to records, jamming out, and sneaking into bars to watch bands play."

"That sounds pretty fun."

"It is. I don't know what I'd do without them."

"You're pretty close to them, huh?"