#nebraska

“So, Huckleberry, how is it that you’re so poor?” Santos plops down on their couch next to him, jostling his notes from his lap.

“Wow, Trin.” He rolls his eyes.

“Okay, yeah tactless question.” She pauses and grins, rather evilly Dennis thinks. “If you were really just a kid from bumfuck nowhere Nebraska.”

Dennis sighs, knowing he’s not going back to reviewing his residency applications until she gets her answers. The papers smack against the coffee table as he sets them aside.

“I am from Nebraska, you know.” He turns to her, propping his elbow on the back of the couch to rest his head against his hand.

“Really?” Santos raises her eyebrows. “Okay, not the point. Okay, nevermind I’m curious. So you’re from Nebraska, but when?”

“You know, westward expansion, homesteading.” Dennis tries to get out of saying anything too specific, but Trinity is clearly not accepting it. “About 1860 or so. Records weren’t great then, and it’s obviously been a minute.”

Santos sorts, tipping her head back as she lets out a short laugh, “okay, old man.”

Whitaker decides not to dignify that with a response, but it doesn’t nothing to curb her amusement.

“Back to my original question. How do you not have money? Couldn’t you have invested like a dollar in stocks and have it be worth however much now?” She pokes at the arm holding his head up.

Dennis has noticed that she’s gotten comfortable enough for the occasional touch like this. When he first got here, she gave him a wide berth, seeming torn between always avoiding whatever room he was in and keeping an eye on him.

“I don’t know. I didn’t come from much, so it never really occurred to me to do it like that.” He shrugs, but Santos just eyes him. She is way too perceptive.

“You’re gonna laugh at me.” Dennis turns away to press his back into the couch again.

“Yeah probably, but don’t let that stop you.” Trinity smiles that sharp smile again.

Dennis groans and leans back as if the couch could swallow him up. Why is he even giving in to this? Why did he even accept her offer to live here? He’s a vampire for Christ’s sake. Curse this need for a sense of belonging. He could have been like every other vampire and been content to go it alone. But no, he’s sitting on a probably eighth-hand couch with holes in the upholstery and letting this woman metaphorically and literally poke at him.

“Okay,” he huffs. “I love being a doctor. I love med school and helping people. I keep doing it over and over again. Starting way back when it was just an apprenticeship. But it takes money. More and more every time. Obviously I have to take breaks from the field so I don’t get recognized, but in those breaks I save so I can pay the fees.”

Dennis refuses to make eye contact, waiting for her to start ridiculing him.

“Aw, Huck, that’s actually kinda sweet.” She delivers the almost-compliment in that special Santos brand of sarcasm mixed with sincerity. “But wait, how do they not have records of your degrees? How do they not know they’re remitting the same student that should be years older?”

He turns back to her, “I’ve gotten really good at making new identities. It’s not that hard when all you want to do is become a doctor.” He smiles a bit. “How’s that for a farm boy?”

That makes her actually laugh, “calm down there. You’re still not as cool as you think you are. Besides, why don’t you invent an identity with the best credentials so that you get scholarships or something?”

“Because I’d be taking those opportunities away from someone who actually deserves them, who needs them.” It’s obvious to him.

Who: Representative Adrian Smith (R-Nebraska)

X: https://x.com/repadriansmith

When: April 2025

What: Harry Lynn

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