“God, no.” Anna laughed. “Not even the ones who get chosen. Lots of nervous types around here.”

He frowned. “I don’t feel very nervous . . . I mean, not constitutionally.”

“Really? Hmm. You might not be a main character, then. You could be a romantic lead. Would you like that?”

He seemed to think about it. His chin got all rumply. “Maybe. I mean . . . I’m not against it. Everyone needs a little romance, don’t they?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

His eyes jumped back up to her. “Oh God, sorry.”

“Ha.” She poked his arm. “I’m just teasing.”

“Oh.” He looked relieved. “Good. I mean. You know . . . you don’t seem very nervous either.”

“It’s funny you say that.” Anna folded her legs, crisscross applesauce. “I was once. I was really high-strung. But I’ve been here so long that there isn’t much to be nervous about anymore. Plus I think I’ve sort of drifted . . .”

He lowered his eyebrows. “From what?”

“From who I was meant to be.”

“Out of character?” He sounded shocked.

“I suppose. My mom says I’ve kind of taken on a life of my own.”

“Is that even possible?”

“I mean—” She shrugged. “—who’s going to stop me?” She held out her hand. “I’m Anna, by the way.”

He took her hand. His had heft. It was warm. “I’m James.” “You’ve got a name!” she exclaimed, shaking his hand. “I didn’t want to ask. That’s an extremely good sign.”

“Are there people here without names?”

“Loads! Some of us don’t even have faces. There’s a guy walking around who’s barely a haircut.”

James frowned again. “That sounds gruesome.”

“Oh no—it isn’t. It’s a really great haircut. But, still . . . a name. That’s the last thing she gets to. You’re ready to go, buddy. You’re the complete package.”

“I wonder where I’m headed . . .” He looked around him, then down at his open hands. “It’s strange, not knowing.”

“Hmm.” Anna narrowed her eyes at him. She wanted to help. “Let’s think about this. You’re thirty-two . . . Can you do magic?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Are you a vampire?”

“No,” James said, affronted. “I’m a sociologist.”

“You could be both.”

He laughed. “I appreciate the encouragement. But I’m just a red-haired man with an overbearing mother and a Scion xB.”

“James! You have a mother? You have a car?”

“I guess I do . . .” he said, surprised.

“You are not long for our world, friend—I shouldn’t even bother getting to know you!”

His face fell. Compassionate again. “Anna, I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” she groaned. “I’m still just teasing. I’m happy to get to know you. I mean, I don’t mind teenagers—or vampires, for that matter. But it’s nice to talk to someone my own age.”

She smiled at him. He smiled back.