Mae had only been in the office for ten seconds, and already she had a problem. The seat wasn't comfortable.

When she'd done therapy with Dr. Hank, the seat had at least been comfortable. It was the same chair he used when he cleaned Mae's teeth, or when he'd done chiropractor stuff on Mae's dad.

Chiropractor stuff? Was that the best way to describe it? Chiropractory? Chiropractorism?

"Uh… Mae?"

Dr. Feldman looked at Mae curiously. He was sitting on a sofa that didn't look much more comfortable than the couch Mae was on. His computer desk was off to his right, and the only other decoration was a calendar with pictures of covered bridges on it.

"Yeah?" Mae asked.

"I was asking you what you wanted to talk about first. You okay?"

"Oh, sorry," Mae said. "Guess I spaced out a little. Must be a little nervous, is all."

Mae tried to laugh in a way that didn't show how incredibly uncomfortable she was. She failed. Dr. Feldman just gave an understanding little nod and smile.

"Would it make you feel better to bring one of your parents with you next time?"

Oh, sure, Mae thought. Get all my angst and dirty laundry out in front of mom and dad. Make them worry even more about me. That'll lead to an interesting car ride home.

"I'll manage," Mae said after a brief pause. "So, Dr. Feldman—"

"Call me Bart," he said. "Talking to your doctor is stressful. Talking to someone named Bart is easy."

"Is your name actually Bart?"

"Eh," Dr. Feldman said, and shrugged.

Mae had to admit that, as far as names went, 'Bart' was one of the least intimidating ones.

"Shouldn't you start by asking me questions?" Mae asked.

"What would I ask about? If I don't know what you want to talk about, I don't know where to start."

"What do you mean you don't know where to start?" Mae asked. "Shouldn't you know all of this?"

Dr. Feldman played a bit with his pen, his notebook lying in his lap. "Your parents gave me an idea of what's been troubling you, but—"

"Did they tell you about the kid I put in the hospital?"

"That came up once or twice, yeah."

Mae frowned. "Well, shouldn't you ask about that? That's a hell of a place to start. I don't know how anything else'll stack up to that."

Well, so long as 'anything else' didn't include what had happened in the mines last year.

"Okay. We can talk about that, then, if you want."

"What? No. No, no, no, no, no. I don't know if I'm ready to talk about that yet. I just, y'know, assumed that was what you wanted to talk about."

"Eventually, yes," Dr. Feldman said, "but this is our first session, Mae. I want to get a grasp of who you are before we go into any details."

Mae considered what Dr. Feldman said for a moment. "I don't know how you'll get a grasp on that, considering I'm not 100% sure who I am."

Dr. Feldman wrote something down in his notes, much to Mae's horror. Oh, God. He was analyzing her. Using his crazy psychology magic.

"We'll start with something simple, then," Dr. Feldman said. "How are you feeling?"

"Hungry."

"Yeah, this appointment was scheduled a little close to lunch, huh? Seriously, though, how have you been feeling lately? Has anything been bothering you?"

Ooh, boy. That was a big question. It had only been a few months since Mae and her friends had explored the mines just outside Possum Springs. Quite a few things had happened since then. Mae had been having weird dreams, for one. As for another…

"Well," Mae admitted. "I guess something's been bothering me. And, like, I know I shouldn't let it bother me, but I can't help it. You know?"

"Oh, I know," Dr. Feldman said. "Mae, I hear that sort of thing a hundred times a day. Hell, I think that to myself all the time."

Mae kicked her feet a bit, looking down at her boots. "It's just something that's got to do with a friend of mine. Something good, but not something I'm, like, happy about."

Dr. Feldman wrote something else down, and then returned his attention to Mae. "Who's this friend? And what is it that's bothering you?"

Mae didn't really want to talk about it. If she said it out loud, it would seem more real, somehow. Still, it was better than talking about the softball incident.

"Well, it's my best friend. His name's Gregg. He's basically been my friend since we were, like, fetuses. Anyway, in a couple of months, he and his boyfriend are going to be moving to Bright Harbor."

Dr. Feldman simply nodded. "And you find yourself wishing that they didn't have to move?"

"No!" Mae said, quick and defensive. Dr. Feldman gave her a look that showed he didn't believe her for a second.

"Well, yeah. A little. It's something they both want, or need, or whatever. I'm happy they're getting out of Possum Springs but… Bright Harbor's not exactly close, you know?"

"Oh, I know," Feldman said. "My mother lives in Bright Harbor, and she's always complaining that she doesn't live closer to her grandchildren. Just… constantly."

Mae briefly wondered why parents were all so obsessed with grandkids. Then she wondered if her granddad had ever been like this with her parents. Then she remembered that time she told her granddad about her plan to own a dog, two cats, and howl at the moon.

Apparently, she carried on remembering it long enough for Dr. Feldman to notice.

"Mae? We were talking about your friend?"

"Huh?" Mae asked.

"When did you start to realize you weren't entirely happy about your friend moving away? Was it when he first told you?"

"No," Mae said defensively. "Well, not exactly. When he first told me about his plan, I was happy for him. Then… I dunno, a buncha stuff happened that kept me from really thinking about it. So I guess I didn't realize how I felt until a few weeks ago."

Dr. Feldman wrote something down in his notebook once again. "Uh-huh," he said. "And what was it that made you realize?"

Ugh. Jeez. Should she tell him? Mae barely knew this Dr. Feldman guy. Still, she had to admit he was good at getting her to open up. Besides, even if the story wasn't something she'd tell just anyone, this guy wouldn't go blabbing about it.

Would he? Wasn't it illegal to talk about your crazy patients or something?

Well, whatever. Mae could tell him about this at least.

"Well," Mae began, "it all started when Gregg told me he was going to do something he'd always wanted to do…"

"I'm gonna break my neck," Gregg said confidently.

Mae pondered Gregg's words for a moment. The two friends stood on top of large, grassy hill that stood on the outskirts of the Food Donkey parking lot. Gregg was holding a large, rubber tired under one arm and staring down the hill.

"Like, you're planning on breaking your neck?" Mae asked.

"No, like… I'm just saying, money's good I'll break my neck doing this." Gregg didn't exactly seem concerned with his prediction.

"Break your neck on what? You're going to be inside of the tire."

Gregg shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe the tire will, like, hit something hard. Like a rock, or a car, or something."

Mae looked down the hill, to the creek that trickled along at the bottom. "I don't think you're going to hit a car, dude. Anyway, you'll probably wind up breaking your arm or something like Tim Whitley did that one time."

"Tim Whitley didn't have my skillllllls," Gregg said, stretching out the last word. "I'm a champ at falling. Remember the stairs at the apartment? I almost died, like, nine times."

"You wouldn't have died at all if you'd used the elevator to start with," Mae pointed out.

Gregg waved his hand dismissively. "If we'd started off with the elevator, we wouldn't have, like, grown closer together in that stairwell. You nearly crushing me under a box of heavy machinery made us better friends."

"Well, when you put it that away, I guess you're welcome."

Mae took another glance down the hill. A thought occurred to her.

"Why is there only one tire? What am I going to roll down in?"

Gregg gave her a confused look, and immediately looked regretful. "Oh, dude. I didn't know you'd want to try this."

"Why the hell would I not want to roll myself downhill in a tire?!" Mae asked.

She and Gregg had been best friends forever, and yet it was like he didn't even know her. This was legitimately upsetting.

A laugh from Gregg soon eased her worry, however.

"Dude, I'm screwing with you. We're both kinda short, so I figure we'll both fit into this thing."

"Oh, nice," Mae said. "Also, that seems more dangerous?"

"Nah, dude," Gregg said with a shrug. "If there's two of us, it'll be, like, cushioning. Only one of use will probably get hurt."

Mae smirked. "Yeah. You, probably," she said. "I bet you'll somehow run over yourself with the tire."

Gregg's eyes seemed to light up. "I bet you'll break your neck and drown in the creek down there."

"I bet we'll hit a rock and you'll bite your tongue off."

"I bet I'll spit my tongue out and you'll choke to death on it."

A look of disgust crossed Mae's face. "Oh, gross, dude. I don't wanna swallow your tongue. I don't even like my own tongue."

Gregg nodded sagely. "Tongues are kinda gross, yeah."

A few seconds passed. Out in the distance, towards the old woods that lead to the old mines, birds began to sing. Mae began to completely forget what they were doing.

"Okay, get in," Gregg said. Without any hesitation, he began to crawl into the tire. He grunted as he squeezed himself in, sitting with his back pressed against the inner ring.

It took Mae about a minute to get into the tire herself. At first, she thought she was supposed to sit on Gregg. She realized this wasn't the case when he began flailing around. After that, she figured out how to set herself in across from Gregg. It was a snug fit, but at least this way, Mae didn't think either of them would fall out.

Gregg's left leg was sticking out of the side of the tire, pressing against the grassy ground. He had that old Greggory smile on his face. It was a smile Mae knew well. It was a smile that said, 'Oh, boy, this might kill us!'

"You ready?" Gregg asked.

Mae smiled. "Nope. Do it."

Gregg pushed off with his foot, and the tire slowly began rolling forward. Mae watched Gregg tuck his leg into the tire, and soon the world was turning upside-down.

There wasn't really anything Mae could compare the sensation to. The world spun around them as they rolled down the hill, the tire bouncing with every stray pebble and twig it bumped into. Mae looked down, then up, then down again at Gregg, who was laughing like a maniac.

"Awoooooooo!" Gregg howled excitedly.

Mae opened her mouth to return the howl. Something else came out instead.

In hindsight, Mae wasn't sure what she'd expected to happen. She had a weak stomach, after all. That was the reason she didn't ride roller coasters, or bungee jump, or whatever. If Mae had to guess, she'd say she puked more than a normal person.

When the ride ended, neither of them were laughing. Gregg was trying to wash the puke off with water from the creek. Mae was lying on her side next to the tire, her hands clutching her stomach.

It didn't help that she'd eaten, like, two lunches that day.

"Well," Gregg sighed, his puke-covered jacket flung over his shoulder, "that probably could've gone better, right?"

"I'm so sorry, Gregg," Mae mumbled.

Gregg sat beside his friend and placed a hand on her shoulder. He smiled reassuringly at her, patting her once or twice and then drawing his hand away.

"Dude, don't apologize. We both forgot that you're, like, a puke fountain."

Mae groaned, mumbling something that even she didn't fully understand.

"Besides, it's not even your first time puking on someone," Gregg said teasingly.

That comment made Mae sit up. She frowned, unamused, at Gregg, her eyelids lowered. "Not funny, dude."

"I disagree. I'm covered in puke, and I think it's hilarious."

A second passed. Then, they were howling with laughter. Gregg flung his arm over Mae's shoulder, giving her a friendly hug as the absurdity of the situation came to them. They laughed for what felt like hours, until their sides hurt and they could hardly breathe.

At the end, Mae and Gregg laid back on the hill, staring up at the sky. The weather was getting warmer, and the sky seemed to be getting bluer. Mae almost couldn't believe she'd been back in Possum Springs for so long.

She'd been home for Thanksgiving, Longest Night, New Years. College and all of its problems seemed like a distant dream; like a brief hiatus in her normal life.

Of course, this wasn't Mae's normal life anymore. Nothing had really felt normal since last Halloween. Mae had been having strange dreams since Thanksgiving. She couldn't always remember them, but she felt like they involved someone… important. Someone who had a lot to say.

Before Mae could ponder it any further, Gregg interrupted her train of thought.

"I'm gonna miss this."

Mae looked over to her friend, who was smiling sadly at her. "What do you mean?" Mae asked. "We can do stupid shit when you're in Bright Harbor. I'm going to visit, remember?"

Gregg was quiet for a moment. "Well, yeah," he said. "But Mae, Bright Harbor's out of state. It's not a two hour drive. You're welcome to visit, like, whenever, but we probably aren't going to see each other much."

Those words felt like a giant weight sitting on Mae's chest. She'd realized this, of course. But hearing something out loud made it seem more real.

Mae turned her head back to look up at the sky. She wanted to say something cool. She wanted to play it off, to be encouraging. She wanted Gregg and Angus to be happy. At the same time, though, she didn't want them to leave.

And that only made Mae feel guilty. What kind of friend was she?

She laid there for a while, quiet. Time seemed to pass, but it was impossible to tell how much. The two friends watched the clouds drift across the sky for what seemed like hours.

It was Gregg who broke the silence. He sat up, stretching as he did so. "Well," he said, "this didn't go how I expected it to, but all in all, I'd say it was a fun time."

"You think getting puked on is fun?" Mae asked. Gregg simply shrugged.

"No. But, I dunno. It'll be something to remember, right? We can laugh about it someday."

Mae chuckled at that. "You can laugh about it. I'll just be sad forever."

As she sat up, Gregg clapped Mae on the back. "Well, my dude, we should get going. Angus is gonna wonder why I smell like your puke."

"Angus is going to know it's my puke specifically?" Mae asked, surprised. "Is his nose that good?"

"Nah, but I never puke. Between the two of us, he'll figure out it was you."

Mae laughed, but her heart wasn't entirely in it. As the two made their way back to Gregg's bike, Mae couldn't stop herself from wondering if how she felt made her a bad person.

And, when she went to bed that night, it was the last thing she thought of when she went to sleep.

It was a dream.

Mae knew it was a dream. She couldn't always tell, but lately her dreams had all followed a similar pattern.

She was in the woods, but the trees were the same as the sky. There were stars everywhere. In the fire. In the ground. In the eyes of the boy sitting next to her.

Casey looked good for a dead guy. He wasn't all there, sure, but Mae could tell it was him. He was somewhere between a shadow and an echo, if that made sense. There, but not there. Like a hole someone hadn't finished making.

"When I did that tire thing, I crashed into a tree," Casey mused. "Mom practically had a fit. Dad didn't give a shit, though."

"I wasn't there for that," Mae sighed. "I think I was sick that summer. Like, food poisoning from eating at the Bratwurst Hut we had for three months."

"God, how'd that place stay open for three months? How does a bratwurst-based fast food restaurant even work?"

"I mean, not well, apparently."

Mae sighed. She looked around her, trying to place exactly where she was. It all seemed kind of familiar. Kind of.

"Where are we?" She asked. Mae wasn't really concerned, but she still wanted to know.

"This is where we had that party," Casey said. "The one you had your first beer at."

Mae grimaced. Even in a dream, she didn't want to think about that party. It didn't seem like she had much of a choice, though, considering her stupid brain had decided this place would be the perfect setting for a party.

"God, all of my parties lately have been terrible," Mae sighed. "There was the party when I got home, the one I went to with Bea… And the New Year's party."

"Oh, yeah, the New Year's party," Casey chuckled. "Man, I'm just, like, your subconscious, and even I had a bad time at that party."

"Do me a favor and let's stop talking about it," Mae grumbled. She pulled her knees to her chest and stared forlornly at the fire.

There were no animal sounds. At least, no sounds Mae recognized as animals. The fire crackled, but it made no noise. Even Casey, when he spoke, didn't talk so much as his words just appeared in Mae's head.

The only sound was music. Music, music, music, music.

The Dream Casey was looking up at the sky. He looked exactly like he had the last time Mae had seen him. Same hoodie, same jeans, same dumb camouflage shirt. For some reason, seeing him like this made Mae want to cry.

"The stars, man," Casey whispered. Mae looked at him, confused. He seemed to have completely forgotten Mae existed. His focus was entirely on the starry night above.

"I would've loved to see what the stars look like out west," Casey sighed. "Just crash in some field out in the Midwest and spend the night looking up, you know?" He laughed. It wasn't a happy laugh.

"There aren't any stars down here, Mae. They look like stars, but they aren't stars. They're just… lights. No warmth, just a glow."

Mae frowned. "Jeez, you must be a dream. The real Casey never said anything that, like, poetic."

The Dream Casey looked back at Mae. He looked a bit embarrassed. "I was plenty poetic. I wrote songs and shit. I was unappreciated in my time."

Despite how sad she felt, Mae couldn't help but laugh. Even if it wasn't really him, it was close enough. "We all appreciated you, Casey. We all loved you."

Casey didn't respond. The two friends sat in the silence of the dreamed night and watched the stars form impossible patterns.