If it's nuts to bring your 18 year old girlfriend to your history teacher/lover while all three of you are dreaming... oh wait, I see it now. Yeah, this is nuts.

You stand, and offer Tiffany a hand. She smiles, almost shyly, taking your hand and letting you pull her up. "This is a dream," she said, again. Which, to be fair, is the sort of thing you say when you are in fact in a dream.

"Yeah," you said. "You're dreaming, and I'm in your dream."

She looked off to the side, then nodded. "Okay." Which seemed pretty mellow, but then... she was dreaming, and she knew she was dreaming, so maybe she just didn't worry about whether or not it was real. I mean, why would you? Except of course she absolutely knew she was really your girlfriend, which made it pretty clear...

...actually, it made nothing clear. Dreams were weird. Your life was weird.

She looked around. "You brought us here," she said. Here being the park where apparently you two used to hang out when you were kids. And best friends. Middle school in your district was Grade 7 and Grade 8. It seemed likely you were friends in Grade 6, and then in Grade 7 she developed and caught Zeke's eye, and bang -- six years later she was head cheerleader, you were nobody, and now you were in her dream after a day she was caught on security camera jilling off over you.

You tried to remember Grade 6. You... had Mister Theriault? Kind of a jerk but not bad. Your friends... were... actually kind of hazy. In general, not just where Tiffany came to mind... but you couldn't remember Tiffany being there at all. Honestly, since that day in middle school you thought Tiffany had transferred in or something. But no -- you guys were good enough friends that your dad had apparently considered calling Child Protective Services on...

...on Tiffany's foster family? That's what she said in the memory video. Which made sense, if she was somehow connected to Traci Bryant. You considered asking her about Traci, but this dream was weird enough for her as it was.

"Is that a birthmark?"

You blinked. "What?"

Tiffany pointed to your thigh. You looked where she pointed.

Two smudges -- almost like a bruise. But in the at least vague shape of a woman's lips. That's where Traci had kissed you before her dream ended -- she said she'd find you. This must be how. "No," you said. "I just have a weird life."

Tiffany nodded. "We were in an orgy yesterday. That was also a dream. I was thinking about it when I..." she flushed. "You know."

"I know. But Tif... you have to take care of yourself. Promise me that. No more hospital."

"Okay." She looked away. "I just... liked the dream better. I wanted to get back. And here we are. But it won't last. It didn't last last night and it won't last now... and you... won't even remember it. I have to tell you and I'm bad at that."

"That's why we're going to see Bella. C'mon." You walked with her towards the door. Your clothing was just... back on now. You glanced at her--

She was still brown haired, sans makeup, and nude.

You considered... then thought about her in a white blouse, dark red sleeveless v-neck sweater, grey pleated skirt -- that cheerleader thing again, you supposed -- and white tights. Sneakers and ankle socks completed the look.

You paused, looking at her. How did you come up with that? You weren't exactly a fashion guru...

Well, maybe it actually came from her. You didn't worry about it.

She was looking at herself in a full length mirror. Which was... you know. Just... there in the park. Because it was a dream. It seemed like Tiffany accepting she was in a dream meant things could be a little less... something. You didn't know what to call it. "Is that really what I look like?" she asked, almost wistfully.

You bit your lip. "That's what you can look like," you said. "When you wake up, your hair will still be blonde with those darker streaks close to--"

"Root melt," she said. "I did a root melt to help blend so you can cut down on color touch up." She smiled a bit. "I... kinda like doing the beauty videos. I know that's not the me you like--"

"Hey -- if you like doing the videos, I'm all for it. You just don't have to fake it. Okay?"

She smiled a bit, nodding. She looked at herself. Grabbing up a sponge and a small plastic tray full of... something? Foundation or eyeshadow or you don't even know what, she took a moment, dabbing at her face.

"Hey... I said I liked who you really were."

"I know." She smiled, clearly almost pathetically happy to hear it. "But a good makeup design accentuates. If you like me being me, then I want to be the most me I can be!" She turned to look at you, grinning...

You blinked. You couldn't see any makeup -- maybe that was the dream logic again -- and she still looked like her, but... better. Somehow.

"...cool," you said, finally. "C'mon."

You walked over to the door, which was set up in the middle of the field in the park. You took her hand, and reached to open it--

The door handle rattled. Wait -- it was locked?

You frowned. How could you get locked in Tiffany's dream? That didn't make any sense. You looked around--

The scoreboard that had been on the roof of the school earlier was back, with time still ticking by very, very slowly. Oh. Maybe that... maybe you couldn't open the door when time was weird in a dream.

You reached for the slider, and pushed it back, letting the clock speed back up. You let go when it looked like the seconds were ticking by more or less correctly, then turned and tried the door again.

It opened right up. John -- Bro-John -- was in the hall. "Dude," he said, rubbing his eyes, which were a bit red. Had he been crying? "That wasn't just hot. That was beautiful, man. Sweet."

"Thanks. This is Tiffany. Tiffany, this is... apparently my id."

"Hi," Tiffany said, cheerfully enough. "I don't know what that is."

"That's okay, beautiful mama. I barely know myself." Bro-John grinned. "So. Are you... taking her out into the Labyrinth?"

"Yeah -- that's safe, right?"

"Oh, totally safe. See, she can't do this on her own, and when she's out in the halls she'll be... more like a bangle or something. She won't remember that bit. When you enter another dream, she'll be there. Though... the rules of that dream'll apply instead of her dream's rules. Is that okay, babe?"

Tiffany looked blank, then shrugged.

"Yeah, dreams are cool, right? Anyway."

"What happens if she wakes up, or I wake up, or the other person wakes up?"

"If she wakes up, she just disappears from that dream. No muss. She'll be back in her own dream the next time she sleeps. If the host dreamer wakes up, you'll get dumped back in the Labyrinth but she'll wake up too. If you wake up, she'll probably hang out in the dream for a bit, then fade out."

"...this won't hurt her, right? Her or Bella?"

"Nah. This stuff's just... stuff. She can't influence Bella like you can."

You nod. "Okay." You look at Tiffany. "Ready?"

She nodded. "Sure."

"All right." And you stepped into the hall.

You and Bro-John were there, but Tiffany was gone. Where you had been holding hands, you now had a small wristband around your wrist. It was glowing, softly.

"Is that...?"

"Yeah, man. That's her."

"...all right. Where's Bella's door?"

Bro-John nodded down the hall. You walked alongside him as you headed for Bella's door.

"So... that was the thing you're trying to remember that you hoped I'd remember, right? The thing. In her dream? The... like, Youtube. Hertube. Tiffany-tube. Whatever?"

"I think so," you said. "Part of it, anyway."

"That is fucked up," he said. "God. To think... you could have been having sex all this time, but something fucked your shit up."

You shook your head. "I could have been having sex all this time?"

"Hey man, I'm your primal urges, right? Right. Y'bloody well right. Anyway -- here's the door. Full of... Door."

"Right," you said. "Here goes nothing." You opened the door and stepped inside.