The Cool Kids
by Elly Bangs
For a solid year I was riding high, getting my fix, partying all night and sleeping all day--just like Phinneas, cool and white as snow, who had mortals of all genders falling over themselves to be tasted; who had been twenty-something for centuries. I thought we'd surf that ruby-red high forever, me and him and the other Cool Kids, and I'd never have to suffer my own reflection again. But I woke up one night with an awful taste in my mouth, and when I brushed my teeth, there I was again in the silvered glass above the sink: hazy, translucent, but undeniably there. I almost screamed.
"When's the last time you drank, Jason?" Phinneas muttered, stretching awake.
"If I don't get blood I turn human again?" I sounded like a noob, but I was panicking. I could feel my skin rising above room temperature like a fever.
"Relax! Plenty of blood on the dance floor."
We went hunting in the club, but my confidence was shot. My moves didn't work with gravity pulling so hard. I was sick with my own heat, less Cool by the minute. I was perspiring. I'd forgotten how bad a warm body could smell. I kept tonguing my receding canines. No mortal would offer me a neck.
Phinneas shouted in my ear: "Drink up already! You're bringing me down!"
"My animal magnetism is gone."
"Then don't ask. Just take."
