PAUL AND ALEX HAVE two more days in Paragon after the event at the school, about which word spreads thanks to the magic of both small towns and the internet. Every time they stop at a gas station for snacks and beer or walk into their hotel, people recognize Alex. Multiple times, people try to take pictures of him through their car windows. Traffic down South Graveyard Road increases.
Whatever relief Paul expects when their plane finally takes off from Indianapolis never comes. The Alex he brings home to LA is, very clearly, not an Alex who has his s**t together. In the days that follow Paul wonders just how big a mistake he made insisting on going to Indiana. Alex probably has — and has always had — PTSD of one form or another. He definitely needs more structured help than Paul alone can
