“This is my girlfriend.”

Jeremy faced his parents defiantly. Their eyebrows raised in shock.

“Her name’s KerriAnne.” He put his arm tightly around her shoulders.

He’d let her in at his window a few minutes ago and persuaded her to put on an old sweatshirt. Underneath she still wore the gold lamé skirt and skimpy striped top which stayed as preserved as her (even the egg stains stayed the same).

Matt and Roseanne Paxton held the first of their evening cocktails, on a descending arc from their extreme morning cheer. Roseanne took in the slutty skirt, recognized his sweatshirt and pursed her mouth in distaste while Jeremy winced like she’d hit him.

Matt pulled himself together and stuck out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Carrie.”

“Not Carrie, KerriAnne,” Jeremy said firmly.

Matt’s moody eyes gleamed faintly and he asked solemnly, “Carrie Anne. What’s your game? Can anybody play?”

KerriAnne shook her head and said in a small voice, “No.” Roseanne said quietly, “Matt.” Jeremy turned red.

“Can I fix you a … diet Coke?” Roseanne looked uncomfortably at her drink.

“I’m not thirsty.”

“We’re going out,” Jeremy announced into the awkward silence. “You know we’ll be perfectly safe, right? You heard the news announcements?” He knew his parents seldom watched the news.

“What news was that, honey?” Roseanne said, eyes going wide.

“There’s a new thing. If you know you’re at home with, well, like, whoever you’re with, you’re safe, y’know, like in a home.” He always lied awkwardly: there’d been no news announcement about this yet.

“Oh, I don’t think I like that,” his mother said nervously. “You two can surely stay here and keep us company?”

“He’ll be fine, honey,” Matt said smoothly. “This is no different than going with the Sister to the plaza, is it now?” He smiled as he turned his full attention to his drink.

Jeremy walked with KerriAnne into the evening. “This is my sweetheart!” he called. “Wherever we’re together is our home!”

White faces and dark robes made a reluctant circle around them as they headed down the hissing streets to the overpriced shopping area. As they looked in closed store windows, a vampire pushed close to them and KerriAnne hissed, “You dare not touch us!”

She looked quickly at Jeremy, ready to apologize for her Queen of the Night act. But Jeremy smiled with pride: nobody had taken care of him for a long time. She wriggled happily.

He put his arm around her. This was his girlfriend, and he was helping her be good. For the first time, he had a future.

♦

“Noooooo‼”

His poor throat was raw. “I love you, I love you, I just wanted to save you, I didn’t mean to … oh my God, oh God, how could you do this?”

But KerriAnne was truly and finally dead beside the murderous square of sunlight that lanced into his eyes from the hardwood floor.

“Bring her back! Give me another chance!” he cried. “I don’t want to live without her. Please!” His head bowed like his tears were lead weights.

In the movies, just when the girl seems dead and the hero bows his head to cry, she stirs and says That Sweet Thing She Always Used to Say. He looked up with foolish hope but her eyes stayed open and empty.

She looked happy.

Maybe she’d died happy? But if she was that happy, she should have been allowed to live.

He lifted his face to the shrill sun which had killed her. In that glory of light, did he see angels kissing an exultant KerriAnne and carrying her to heaven?

But the sun climbed into a fluff of cloud and the light dimmed.