‘Okay.’ She took in a slow breath and let it out.  ‘Is Michael looking after you? Making sure you don’t have any kind of brain haemorrhage or something?’

‘Oh, I have people watching me like hawks. I can’t even get up to pee without an escort. It’s super fun.’

‘Good. I’m glad they’re taking care of you. Please take care of yourself, too. I wish – I wish I could be there.’

‘Wish you could, too. Want to make it up to me?’

‘Yes.’

‘What are you wearing?’

She smiled in the darkness of her little pillow cave. ‘Footie pyjamas and a chastity belt.’

‘You know that’s not playing by the script, right?’

‘I thought you said you loved everything about me.’

‘Not the chastity belt. Listen, I’d better—’

‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘Yeah, I know. Get some rest. Heal. Shane – I love you.’

‘I love you too,’ he said. ‘Watch your back.’

He hung up first, but it didn’t really matter by then; she felt he was so close to her that he might as well have been right there in the room.

She carefully took the pillow off her head and listened.

Blessed silence. Maybe Professor McCreepy had already departed, but if he hadn’t, at least the gymnastics were over.

She fell asleep with the phone in her hand, held close to her heart.

Elizabeth didn’t come out of her room the next morning when Claire knocked; she got a muffled, tearful ‘go away’ through the door, and Claire shook her head. Yeah, she’d seen that coming. Professor Douche Bag had almost certainly had his way and told Liz not to call him again; he’d have plenty of other college-age girls to charm. Claire had met a few older professors like him, and they had made her feel more than a little ill. It might not be illegal, but it felt badly wrong.

And it might have been nothing but coincidence, how he’d landed on the subject of vampires, but it still creeped her out.

‘Can I get you anything?’ Claire asked. ‘Liz, are you going to be okay?’

‘I’m fine,’ Liz said, and burst into more wet tears. So, the only injury was probably to her heart, and her ego. ‘I’m sorry. I should have known better, shouldn’t I?’

‘Everybody makes mistakes,’ Claire said. ‘You won’t make that one again.’

‘No.’ Liz made a strangled gulping sound and blew her nose. ‘I’m never looking at another man again. Ugh. They’re all evil. Evil!’

Claire knew some who weren’t, but this wasn’t the moment to disagree. It was the required Friend Solidarity moment. ‘All evil,’ she agreed. ‘Can’t trust them. Look, are you sure you’re okay? You’re sure he didn’t hurt you or anything?’

‘He ripped my heart out!’ Liz cried, and more blubbering ensued, and Claire assumed that meant a no, at least in the physical assault sense. ‘You go on. I’ll be fine.’