Kiera emerged from the church in her Harvest Fest costume, a denim jacket with silver zippers in odd places. Her skirt was plaid, her barely there leggings showed off a little bit of thigh and the sexy curve of her calves, slim thick, still. Red high-top sneakers finished off the outfit. I didn’t know what she was supposed to be, but she was what she always was. Hot as hell.

Mya wore black-framed glasses, a red-and-white knit cap, with a matching striped sweater. I recognized her immediately. Wenda, from the Where’s Waldo? books. Nice. Helena was some kind of mouse. Not Minnie Mouse, though. Her mouse was definitely more of an Every-Mouse. Shanice, Little Red Riding Hood, maybe.

Kiera flicked eyes my way, then quickly focused on her girls.

To Jameer, I said, “Now what? She ain’t even looking at me.”

“First, we’re going to get assigned stations. Then— Oh here we go, follow my lead.”

Kiera’s mom joined us, and Sister Vanessa trailed her. Deaconess Westing wasn’t in costume—I didn’t think. She wore jeans, a Howard University sweatshirt, and focused on a clipboard in her hand. Sister Vanessa had fully embraced the occasion of the Purity Pledge/Harvest Fest overlap. She came as a nun.

“Good evening, y’all,” Sister Vanessa said. “You look so nice in your costumes tonight, and you’re going to help bring a lot of joy to all the younger children who, believe it or not, look up to you as role models. I bet you’ve all been wondering what this has to do with Purity Pledge, am I right?”

Plucky carnival music from a far-off speaker was the only sound in the awkward pause after that question. Even Kiera, who kept answers loaded like ammo, was slow in responding.

“Well,” Sister Vanessa went on, “we’re going to show everyone the kinds of boy-girl interactions that are appropriate for people your age. You’ll be paired up, and assigned a station. Then you work together in a wholesome, holy, family environment.”

“As it was meant to be,” added Pastor Newsome, from behind me. I almost squawked.

Did he come from the woods?

Naw. He wasn’t some witch emerging from the Dark Dimension. His Audi (license plate: PRZ HIM) was parked behind my car, the automatic interior lights only now winking off.

Silence stretched, everyone waiting for more, as they’d been conditioned to do. Newsome let the moment last a beat, then, “Please go on.”

Sister Vanessa said, “Right, assignments.”

Deaconess Westing recited names. “Bobby and Shanice. Ralph and Kiera. Delbert and Mya.”

Mya-as-Wenda shuffled over, and I shot Jameer a look. What part of that plan was this? I was told maximum quality time with Kiera all night. I assumed he’d somehow gamed the list that Deaconess Westing was reading from, but no. I was going to be working with the same girl I worked with all the time.

Jameer got paired with Helena Rickard on cotton candy, while me and Mya would play doormen at the bouncy house. Ralph and Kiera oversaw a prize table near the base of the church steps, topped with the cheap shit kids rarely thought about until they had reams of carnival currency in hand. Slinkys and Wall-Crawlers and Ping-Pong paddles with Spider-Man’s face on them. Deaconess Westing explained there were games set up inside the church—Bible Trivia, Bethlehem Skee-ball, Whack-A-Devil—that kids could play for tickets they’d later trade for the merch. Bobby and Shanice would perform their duties there.