There was only one door open, and Betsy's name was on a plaque beside it. Neil invited himself in and looked around. A chair and a couch faced each other with a short coffee table between them. A small potted plant was in the dead center of the table, and pillows were painstakingly arranged on both the couch and the chair. The desk in the corner was clear of everything but a hot plate and kettle. A short bookshelf was against the wall, but only the bottom three shelves had books on them. The top one was covered in glass knickknacks, but even in their clutter they looked clean, as they were all set equidistant to each other.

"You're obsessive-compulsive," Neil said when Betsy stepped into the doorway behind him.

"Guilty as charged," Betsy said cheerfully. "My name is Betsy Dobson. You can call me whatever you like; I'll answer to just about anything from Betsy to Doc to Hey You. Shall I call you Neil, or would you prefer Mr. Josten?"

"Either one is fine," Neil said.

"Then for the time being, I will call you Neil. If you're ever offended or feel this makes our relationship too personal, just warn me and I will edit it to something more appropriate to our needs. Sound fair?" She gave him a moment, then said, "Why don't you get comfortable and I'll make us some hot cocoa."

Neil sat on the edge of the couch and said, "But it's August."

"Chocolate is good any time of the year, don't you think?" Betsy said.

"I don't like sweets," Neil said.

Betsy took a mug and container of cocoa out of one of her desk drawers. "As you know, today is a casual appointment so we can get to know one another. This isn't a formal session where I'll be analyzing everything you say for feedback and advice, so don't stress too much about it. Have you seen a counselor before?"

"No," Neil said. "I don't know why I have to be here today."

"Palmetto State made it policy a few years ago," Betsy said. "The board expects a lot from all of their students, and more from their athletic representatives. This way they're allowing you a way to vent some of the pressure and stress they're leveling on you."

"They're keeping an eye on their investment, you mean," Neil said.

"That is a way of looking at it." Betsy finished stirring her drink and brought her mug to the chair across from his. "Tell me a little about yourself, Neil."

"What do you want me to say?"

"Where are you from?"

"Millport, Arizona."

"I haven't heard of it."

"It's a small place," Neil said. "The only people who live there are either too old to move out or too young to escape. There's nothing to do except play sports or bingo. We only moved there because it's halfway between Tucson and Phoenix. My mother worked in one and my father the other."