In June of 2015, Possum Springs was more or less the same as Possum Springs in 2018. Possum Springs never changed very much, after all. Names, faces, and businesses may have been different, but the more things changed, the more they stayed the same. Even something as big as a high school graduation didn't change the way the town felt.
Mae didn't know how graduating was supposed to make her feel. Relieved? Proud? Mostly she just felt tired after sitting out in the sun all day in that heavy-ass robe and cap. Graduation seemed like it should have been some big event; but instead, it was just a thing that happened.
People had come. People had talked. Some nerd got up there and gave a speech about moving forward or whatever.
Some of the graduates had beach balls, though, and that was pretty cool.
Mae's parents had been so proud. Mae didn't really know why—it didn't feel like she'd accomplished anything. She'd just gone to school and avoided dying. Really, Mae had put in the barest minimum effort required for graduating from high school.
But the parents were happy, and Mae guessed that was nice enough. They had taken Mae out of town to get dinner at some fancy Chinese place. Mae ate until she nearly got sick.
The real celebration came later that night, though. At 10 o'clock, Casey pulled up to Mae's house in his old pickup truck. Gregg and Angus were riding in the backseat, cuddled up with each other. Mae wished her parents good night, got into the truck, and soon the gang was off to party in the state forest.
There were a couple of parties going on to celebrate graduation. One or two of them were being held in other towns, at clubs or whatever. Some of the sketchier kids were partying in an abandoned house or something, and the football team had reserved Pastabilities for their celebration.
But Mae was going to the cool party. The cool party was in the cool woods, and most of the cool kids would be there.
By the time Mae and the gang arrived, the party had already started. Somebody had set up a speaker system and was playing a bunch of alt rock; somebody else had set up a whole keg of beer. A big bonfire was going, because no party was complete unless there was a serious risk of starting a forest fire.
Mae and her friends spent the first few minutes of the party mingling with everyone else. Everyone went on and on about how weird it felt to be done with high school, or about how they'd miss everyone. People talked about college, or the army, or how excited they were to get out of Possum Springs.
Mae just smiled and nodded the whole time. She could only kind of empathize with what everyone was saying. Possum Springs was home for Mae, and she felt like she'd miss it when she went to college. Sure, she'd be getting an education and doing adult stuff, but would Durkillesburg ever feel anything like Possum Springs?
Casey, on the other hand, was already talking about how he was going to hop on a train and ditch Possum Springs. He kept saying he'd get a job on a fishing boat, or that he'd go work for his uncle out-of-state.
Mae wasn't sure how much of what Casey said was just talk and how much of it he actually believed.
After just a few minutes of talking with people, Mae was exhausted. She made her way over to the table of snacks that had been set up next to the beer keg. Gregg and the others were close behind, apparently also in the mood for snacks. Either that, or they just weren't ready to go do their own things.
"Wish we could've had this party on the beach or something," Gregg mused as he helped himself to a handful of stale pretzels.
"The closest beach is half a day away, Bug," Angus pointed out. "Unless you mean a lake, or something… What's wrong with the woods, though? You usually love the woods."
"Yeah, the woods are great! They're full of witches and ghosts. Beaches don't have those." Mae grabbed a red, plastic cup and absentmindedly filled it up with whatever was in the beer keg. It turned out to be beer, much to Mae's surprise. Mae shrugged and lifted the cup to her lips.
"Whoa, hold on," Casey said, lifting a hand in Mae's direction. "Mae, have you ever had beer before? Take it slow—you might not like it at first."
While Mae appreciated that Casey was looking out for her, she wasn't sure she liked the fact that she was getting advice on drinking from someone younger than her. Then again, they were all underage… But they were also high school graduates, so technically they were adults. They could do anything and not get in trouble, right?
Mae lifted the cup to her mouth and took a big old gulp of adult beer.
Mae didn't swallow the beer right away. She contemplated the taste for a couple of seconds, the beer swishing against her cheeks and tongue. It was incredibly bitter, as Mae had always suspected. Just having the beer in her mouth was making Mae's eyes water.
It didn't take Mae particularly long to decide that this was the worst thing ever.
Mae turned her head away from her friends and spat out her mouthful of beer. The heavily watered-down beer splashed all over someone who'd been standing nearby. Their back was turned, thankfully, so none of the beer got on their face. Instead, it simply splashed all over their hoodie and the back of their head.
"Oh god," Mae muttered as Gregg began cackling behind her. "Sorry, Levy."
Levy didn't respond in words. A low, horrified moan of disgust came out of him as he turned around to face Mae.
"GodDAMMIT!" Levy began tearing his hoodie off, not even bothering to unzip it as he yanked it over his head. The t-shirt he wore underneath looked like it was soaked, too. "God effing dammit! First the thing in middle school and now this?! Eff you, Borowski!"
Levy ran off into the woods, his hoodie still pulled up over his head.
Mae watched in silence as the town's weed hookup ran away. Mae felt like she should have felt bad about spitting all over Levy, but instead she just felt embarrassed. That was probably kind of shitty, huh?
A hand clapped Mae on the shoulder in what was probably supposed to be a reassuring manner. Instead, it just sort of hurt. Mae looked over to the hand's owner and saw Casey smirking smugly at her.
"What?" Mae asked irritably.
Casey's smugness just increased. He slapped Mae's shoulder again (Again, it hurt) and stepped back to join Gregg and Angus. Gregg's laughter at Mae's beer fiasco was finally dying down.
"Oh, man!" Gregg sighed. "Jeez, Mae, how come stuff like this keeps happening to you? Were you cursed or something?"
Mae sometimes wondered about that herself. If she had been cursed, the warlock who'd cursed her must have been super lame. Instead of cursing her with something cool, Mae had just been cursed to have a bunch of awkward stuff happen to her. That wasn't very imaginative, warlock—work harder next time.
"You're gonna be the one who's cursed, Greggory," Mae said, attempting some sort of threat.
Nobody really understood what she meant by that, though, so they just ignored her.
The party hadn't been going on for very long by the time Mae got tired of it. She'd had a long day, after all, and socializing was exhausting even on normal days. Before Mae even knew it, she was waiting by Casey's pickup truck, anxious to leave.
It wasn't like this was a bad party. The music was decent, and aside from spitting beer all over Levy, Mae hadn't done anything to embarrass herself. Everyone was in a good mood and having a good time. It was definitely one of the better parties Mae had been to lately.
That didn't change how Mae felt, though. Something was…
Whatever.
Who cared what the reason was? Mae didn't need excuses for herself. If she was tired, she was tired. Trying to figure out why she was tired just made Mae feel bad. She'd leave the psychoanalyzing shit to Dr. Hank, along with family medicine and orthodontics.
Mae scanned the faces of her fellow graduates who stood in the clearing with the bonfire. Their conversations all blended together, mixing with the Appalachian folk music playing from the stereo.
Mae wondered how many of her classmates she'd ever see again. How many would just move to some big city and never come back? Would any of them even remember Mae? Would any of them want to remember her?
Hell, Mae didn't even want to remember herself sometimes. She didn't feel like she was a very good person.
Mae sighed and leaned against the hood of Casey's truck. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see someone approaching her. Mae was worried it was someone coming to ask about the softball incident; someone who just had to know why she'd done it before they left for college.
That was assuming the worst, though, wasn't it? Mae turned towards the person walking towards her. She was, all at once, both relieved and mortified.
It was Josh. Josh, the tractor guy. Josh, the farm-boy. Josh, the brave hero who'd driven Mae home after that disastrous night at prom. Mae barely knew anything about Josh, but she felt like she was indebted to him for life after that. Mae felt like Josh was the sort of person she'd tell her grandkids about.
Not that Mae would ever have grandkids, of course. Kids were awful and babies were gross.
"Heya, Mae!" Josh said cheerfully. Even though he was a few feet away, Mae could smell alcohol and chewing tobacco on his breath. Despite the unpleasant odor, Josh had a big, friendly smile on his face that made Mae feel a little better.
"Yeah, hey." Mae wasn't sure what else to say. She hadn't actually spoken to Josh since the day after prom. He may have saved her, sure, but that didn't mean they were friends.
"Graduation, right?" Josh said, raising a red plastic cup full of beer up as he spoke.
"Yup," Mae agreed. "We've definitely graduated."
"Yeah, I know!" Josh exclaimed. "I mean, shit, y'know? I didn't think I'd even stick around through senior year—thought I'd just drop out and start workin' on the farm! Look at me now, though!"
Mae could definitely relate to that.
"I thought about dropping out and becoming a shut-in, like, a bunch of times," Mae said. "Ever since middle school, at least. Especially when I took all that time off after the softball thing."
"I'm gonna drive my tractor out to Bright Harbor!" Josh exclaimed. Mae couldn't tell if he had ignored her mention of the softball incident or if he just wasn't paying attention. "Buy some cheap weed. Maybe finally get laid. You ever gotten laid, Mae?"
"That's not really something you ask someone, Josh," Mae pointed out. "Are you, uh… drunk?"
Josh gave Mae a look of confusion, as if Mae had just asked him if he had two heads.
"I can't be drunk," Josh said. He slurred and paused between every other word, as if he could barely remember how to speak. "I only been drinkin' beer. Can't get drunk off beer, Mae. You'd know that if you drank more."
Mae, who could still remember the days when her dad drank heavily, knew that you absolutely could get drunk off beer. Mae wasn't sure how anyone could tolerate the taste of beer enough to get that drunk, though. Had the people who enjoyed beer just gotten used to its nastiness, or did they just not care?
Mae could still taste the beer from earlier. Even though most of it had wound up on Levy, Mae still felt like she'd drunken too much.
"So are you heading off to college?" Mae asked, trying to get her mind off of beer.
Josh shrugged. "Prob'ly! Community college, anyway."
Mae barely knew what community college was. She'd never been curious enough to look it up. Mae assumed that it was college for dumb people, or for people who couldn't get into regular college. It was probably like those remedial classes Mae had taken, only you had to pay to get into it.
"So, hey," Mae said, "did I ever thank you for driving me home from prom?"
"Yup," Josh said. "You were crying a bunch when you did it, though."
"Oh," Mae said. She glanced off to the side awkwardly.
This conversation was going down the toilet. Thankfully, Casey arrived just in time to save Mae from any further awkwardness. He seemed to arrive out of nowhere—Mae hadn't seen him leave the clearing where the party was.
"Hey, y'all," Casey said as he walked up towards the pickup truck. His hands were stuffed into his hoodie's pockets, despite how warm it was from the fire.
"Oh, hey, uh…" Josh stared at Casey uncertainly. His voice continued trailing off as he blanked on Casey's name. It wasn't surprising—Casey didn't socialize with too many people outside his circle of friends. Unless something really bad happened, most people in Possum Springs would never know Casey's name.
"Hartley," Casey said. "Casey Hartley."
Josh's eyes lit up in recognition. "Oh, right! Heartbreak Hartley! You're the guy who dumped all those girls, right?"
Casey winced for just a moment. He tried to laugh off Josh's statement, but it came off sounding unnatural. The rumors about Casey were one of the few things that could actually get through his armor of apathy.
"That's all a big misunderstanding," Casey said, trying to brush off Josh's claims. "Anyway, can I talk to Mae alone for a little while? I wanna check up on something with her."
"Yeah, sure!" Josh slurred. Then, a thought occurred to his drunken mind. "Oh, hey, Casey, did you know we graduated?"
"Yeah, actually!" Casey said cheerfully, his voice completely sincere.
Josh nodded slowly and clumsily. "Well, okay—I just wanted you to know that."
Josh drunkenly stumbled back to the clearing. Mae watched as the brave, selfless hero who'd saved her from the world's worst prom night helped himself to another cup of beer. She then watched as he drunkenly attempted to urinate on the bonfire in the middle of the clearing.
Josh was a real hero.
Mae turned back to Casey, who had climbed up onto the hood of his truck. He was staring up at the branches of the trees above them, brief patches of night sky poking through the leaves. Though he offered no invitation, Mae climbed up onto the hood and sat beside him. There wasn't much room, but Mae was fairly tiny.
Mae watched Casey watch the sky for a few seconds. He was being unusually quiet, especially considering he'd said he wanted to talk with Mae. Mae supposed it was possible Casey had just lied about that to get Josh to leave Mae alone, but Casey wasn't really observant enough to pull off something like that. Instead, Mae decided that Casey was being quiet because he was lost in thought.
That being the case, Mae guessed she would be the one to break the silence.
"What'd you wanna talk about?" Mae asked.
Casey responded with a heavy sigh. He looked down at his ratty jeans and his tattered, skater-boy sneakers. Most of Casey's clothes looked like they were from a secondhand store. Mae didn't know for sure if that was the case, though—she'd never asked, either. It wasn't any of her business, after all.
"Can I ask you something?" Casey asked after a moment. His voice was unusually serious. "Do you think that I'm like my dad?"
"Huh?" Mae asked. The question had been so surprising that Mae assumed she'd misheard.
"Remember how, a month ago, I got fired from the Food Donkey?"
Mae didn't remember, but she nodded her head anyway.
"Well, I guess I kinda deserved to get fired," Casey confessed. "I was slacking off a lot. I half-assed a lot of the stuff I was s'posed to do, too. My boss was real pissed off at me when he finally fired me."
Mae frowned. She still wasn't quite following. Casey didn't appear to notice her confusion, though.
"When he finally fired me…" Casey stopped, chuckling bitterly. "You know what he said? He said, 'I really expected better from you, Casey'. Then I went home, and I told my mom, and she just… gave me this look, you know? This real disappointed frown."
Casey sighed. "Look, my dad could never hold down a job for long. I remember he went through a buncha jobs before he died. And every time he told my ma that he'd gotten laid off, she'd just give him this look… And it was the same look she gave me after I got fired from the Food Donkey."
Casey stopped thoughtfully, a worried look on his face.
"Mae… If I stay in Possum Springs, do you think I'll turn out like my dad? Just some shitty, deadbeat asshole who screams at everyone?"
Casey's voice cracked when he spoke. He sounded as if he were close to crying. Mae couldn't see his face in the dark of the night, but she was willing to bet he was starting to tear up.
"Dude, no!" Mae insisted. "You're way better than your dad ever was, Casey! You're super chill, and cool, and I've never heard you scream at someone even once! You're ten times cooler than your douchebag dad was!"
No response. Mae continued.
"Like, you're nice, and awesome, and…" Mae threw her hands up. "Like, you help people all the time! What's the nicest thing your dad ever did? He built your treehouse and left you his boat. Plus, he had to die for him to bother to do the second one. But you do all sorts of stuff whenever Gregg or me need help! Your dad was an asshole; you're not!"
Casey was very quiet. Whether he was contemplating Mae's words or just didn't know what to say, Mae wasn't sure. Mae was a little worried that her words hadn't had the effect she'd wanted. She didn't feel like she was the best person to talk to about issues you were having.
After a few more seconds of silence, Casey finally turned back to Mae.
"You know, Margaret, you really shouldn't insult someone's dad like that. You should respect your elders." Casey smirked playfully.
Mae felt so relieved that Casey was in a better mood that she couldn't help but laugh. Casey chuckled along with her. Soon, though, the laughter died down, and both of them returned their attention to the leaves and branches up above them. Under the thick canopy of the state forest, the night sky seemed almost starless. The woods had a quiet, almost dreamlike quality to them in that moment.
"I still gotta get out of this town, though." Casey said, almost to himself. "I'll hop on a train and go somewhere where things actually happen."
"Things happen in Possum Springs!" Mae pointed out. Even when she said it, though, she knew it wasn't really true. Things used to happen in Possum Springs. Nowadays, it just felt like things stopped happening.
Casey was evidently in agreement with that sentiment. "Things die in Possum Springs, Mae. That's it. It's like the rest of the world keeps moving forward, but places like Possum Springs get left behind to get old and rust away.
"I'm not gonna stay in some shitty, dying town," Casey murmured. "I'm gonna get outta Possum Springs if it's the last thing I do."
For some reason, the seriousness in Casey's voice was starting to get to Mae. Mae wasn't used to this kind of intensity from Casey. Then again, graduating had probably given him a lot of stuff to think about. It wasn't really unusual, then, for him to be sounding so serious.
Casey either noticed how uncomfortable Mae was or wanted to change the topic of conversation himself. He chuckled nonchalantly, and turned towards Mae.
"Didn't mean to get all serious and shit," Casey laughed. "You've probably got a lot on your mind, too, huh?"
Mae shrugged. She always had a lot on her mind. Graduating hadn't really increased or decreased Mae's anxiety levels at all.
"How have things been going for you, anyway?" Casey asked. "Like, how are things with that girl you've been chatting with?"
"Who, the Bombshell?" Mae asked, surprised. "Pretty good, actually. She's, like, really cool and funny and stuff. I really owe Jackie for getting us in touch with each other. I mean, I actually know her name now, so I think that's a sign that things are improving."
Mae laughed. Then, puzzled, she stopped. A thought occurred to her.
"Wait, hang on… How do you know about that? I didn't even meet the Bombshell until after you died, Casey."
Casey stared at Mae in silence. He looked as if he wasn't sure why Mae was bothering to ask a question like that. It was like she'd just asked where he'd gotten hid hoodie, or if he wanted to see a movie later. Mae guessed that the question probably wasn't too important to Casey, considering he was dead, but it was still kind of rude of him to brush it off.
Wait. No, that didn't make sense.
A strange, falling sensation began to come over Mae. In the distance, the music playing from the clearing came to a sudden, dying stop. As Mae looked up at the stars shining through the leaves above, realization dawned on her.
"Oh, god damn it!" Mae said irritably. "Is this a—"
Mae woke up.
Warm sunlight poured in from the attic's window and washed over Mae's face, as if the sun was trying to slap Mae awake. The sheets on Mae's futon smelled vaguely of sweat—a sign that laundry would have to be done soon. Mae's foot brushed up against something, and she quickly realized she'd fallen asleep with one boot still on.
Mae had no idea how that had happened, but she was too groggy to really care.
Mae could still vividly remember the dream she'd woken up from. As far as her dreams went, this one had been fairly easy to understand; no spooky statues or ghostly musicians. Just a vague recreation of the graduation party Mae had gone to.
The dream hadn't been exactly like the actual graduation party, of course. The party Mae had gone to was up near Pill Hill, not in the woods. Gregg and Angus hadn't been there, either—it had just been Mae and Casey.
Mae had definitely spat a mouthful of beer all over Levy, though—that part was accurate.
Mae sat up in her bed, smacking her dry lips tiredly. She felt gross all over, but wasn't sure exactly why. Had she slept in even later than usual? Were her clothes starting to get really, really funky? Had Mae eaten too much pizza the other night?
Eh. It was probably a little of all of the above.
Aside from all of that, though, Mae was a little uneasy. She couldn't quite think of why. Mae almost felt like she'd missed out on the chance to do something in her dream—something important. Mae wondered if she should have maybe asked Casey something, or warned him about the cultists. It wouldn't have changed anything, of course, but it might have Mae Mae feel better.
Mae groaned. Why were dreams always so dumb?
Still sleepy, Mae hopped out of bed and quickly set up her laptop. There wasn't much of note in the Chattrbox newsfeed—just a drug bust in Bright Harbor. A few messages from everyone (Bombshell included—she and Mae had been chatting a lot the last few days) told Mae what her friends were up to that day. Gregg had evidently decided that today was a good day for band practice.
Mae was okay with that. Struggling to play a song she didn't know would probably help get her mind off of things. Or onto things. In any case, the music would do stuff.
Mae hurried downstairs, not sure just how late she might have slept in. Candy Borowski was still in the kitchen when Mae got to the ground floor, so that was a good sign. That meant Mae hadn't slept through band practice again. It also meant Mae had time to check in on her mom.
"Good morning, sleeping beauty!" Mae's mom was as cheerful as ever when she saw Mae enter the kitchen. A book of true crime stories was open in front of her.
"I mean, it's the afternoon," Mae pointed out as she hopped up onto the kitchen counter. "Also, I'm not asleep. You're making all sortsa mistakes today, mom."
"I'm allowed to, honey—I'm only human," Mae's mom, the big talking cat, said. "Only God doesn't make mistakes, sweetie."
Mae didn't know if she agreed with that. If God did exist, they'd kind of done a real boner of a job making the world a good place. Or maybe God had meant to make the world awful, in which case they'd done pretty well.
"So, any big plans for today?" Mae's mom asked, her eyes returning to the book she had open in front of her.
Mae could only shrug. "Gregg wants to do band practice today. So I guess I'll be heading out for that soon."
"I am so glad you're getting out of the house again!" Mae's mom said enthusiastically. "Your father and I were very worried when you locked yourself up in your room! Whatever Bea and her little friend did to get you out of the doldrums certainly worked!"
Mae didn't have the heart to tell her mom that the reason she'd actually stopped staying in the house all day was because she had gotten bored. It was better for Candy Borowski to think that her daughter's friends had helped her than to think her daughter was just kind of inconsistent.
"Hey, speaking of which, has Aunt Molly mentioned anything about that guy?" Mae asked. "You know, the tattoo stalker?"
Mae's mom's smile shrank away into a small frown.
"She says that he hasn't showed up since he harassed you outside of the Pickaxe."
"Oh, good," Mae said, unsure if that was actually good or not.
"She still wants you to be careful around town," Mae's mother cautioned. "Don't stay out too late, and make sure you're with friends if you do."
"Aunt Mall Cop always wants me to do that stuff, though," Mae pointed out. "The presence or absence of a weird tattoo man wouldn't change her advice at all."
"She's just looking out for you," Mae's mom said. She didn't say anything else, though—Mae and her mother had had this conversation pretty much a million times. Mae wasn't going to suddenly be super appreciative of her aunt's advice after all this time.
There was something on Mae's mind, though.
"Hey, so…" Mae paused, unsure of where to go with this. "Do you remember my friend Casey Hartley?"
Candy Borowski looked thoughtful for a moment. "I think so, sweetie. Wasn't he your little friend from Sunday School?"
"Yeah, that was him," Mae chuckled. Of course her mom would remember Casey in some way that involved church. Also, to Candy Borwoski, all of her daughter's friends were 'little friends', even though most of them were bigger than Mae herself. In fact, pretty much all of Mae's friends were taller than her.
Except Germ. Germ was tiny.
"You know about him, uh…" Mae's voice trailed off. She knew she wanted to talk about Casey disappearing, but she had trouble lying about it to her mom. In fact, she had trouble lying about it to anyone—that's why Mae almost never brought Casey up unless it was with her friends.
Thankfully, Mom Borowski understood what Mae wanted to say.
"The missing posters, right?" She asked. "Yes, I know. After he went missing, Casey's mother and father would come up to the church to ask if anyone had seen him. After a while, though, they stopped coming."
Candy Borowski shook her head sadly. "Those poor people. Abby Crangler told me that Casey probably ran away, but I don't think that's very likely. Casey didn't seem like the sort of boy who'd put his mother through that kind of heartbreak."
The word 'heartbreak' instantly gave Mae a flashback to her dream.
In that dream, Josh had called Casey 'Heartbreak Hartley', which was one of the stupidest nicknames Mae could think of. Kids in high school usually didn't go for clever, alliterative titles when coming up with insulting nicknames. They usually just stuck with cuss words or slurs.
So why had Mae dreamed it? Was it because of the rumors from high school? If so, why was Mae thinking about those?
It was probably just because Casey had been on Mae's mind quite a bit lately. It was hard to think about Casey without thinking of some of the stuff people had said about him.
Mae's mother fixed her daughter with a worried look. To her embarrassment, Mae realized she'd been sitting in complete silence.
"Honey, are you okay?" Mae's mother asked. "I know I said I'm glad you're getting out of the house, but maybe you should take it easy today. You've been sleeping even more than usual lately."
Mae shook her head. "No, no. I'm fine. Just… thinking about stuff."
Mae's mom looked like she wasn't satisfied with that answer, but was willing to accept it anyway. Mae didn't blame her for being worried. Mae felt like she gave her parents a lot to worry about.
"Well, okay," Candy Borowski said. "But like I said, be careful. And if you see that man who was following you, just hurry back home."
"No arguments here," Mae said. She hopped down from the kitchen counter, grunting a bit as her feet hit the floor. She was still awfully groggy from sleeping in later than usual.
"Alright, sweetie," Mae's mom said. "Have fun at band practice. I love you."
Mae felt herself begin to smile. "Love you, too, mom."
With that, Mae turned and left the house. She could be depressed or scared later. Right now, she had a life to live.
