I’m still hungry too.
“I’m hungry,” she whispered. Her eyes weren't human. They were the color of root beer bottles held up to the sun.
“Go to the kitchen,” I said, pulling my comforter to my chin. Jennifer--s Body -2009-
She grinned. Her teeth were too white, too straight, too many. “Tasted like old jerky. Boys are better. Boys are an appetizer you don’t feel bad about finishing.”
I knelt beside the pool and held her hand as the water turned clear again. Her face softened back to the girl I knew. Then it went slack. I’m still hungry too
JENNIFER CHECK — 1991–2009 SHE WAS A MONSTER. BUT SHE WAS MY MONSTER.
I didn’t run.
I walked to Megan’s house after school. She was in her room, painting her nails black. A red Gatorade bottle sat on her nightstand. I knew, without wanting to know, that it wasn’t Gatorade.
