The phone rings thrice before going to voicemail. Rocki’s cheery, recorded voice instructs me to “leave a message after the tone, unless you’re boring.”

“Rocki, it’s Dean. Call me back. It’s an emergency. A romantic emergency. Please.”

I hang up. The panic, instead of subsiding, crystallizes into a sharp, urgent need for action. Waiting is not an option. I need her now.

I know where she’ll be. If she's not in school, then it must be her apartment which is just a ten-minute ...