“You said boys,” I said. “Not Chip.”
“Thanks,” she whispered, sinking into the chlorinated pink. “It hurt. Being that hungry.” Jennifer--s Body -2009-
Megan was at her locker when she heard the news. She smiled. “You said boys,” I said
“Not that kind of hungry, Needy.”
I should have run. I should have called the police, a priest, the guy from the Discovery Channel who debunks myths. But Megan leaned in and pressed her cold forehead to mine. For one second, she smelled like the girl who let me copy her algebra homework. Then she smelled like the inside of a slaughterhouse. Being that hungry
I went home and sharpened my mother’s sewing scissors. The final scene happened at the town pool, after hours. Megan had lured the entire football team there with a text that said “skinny dipping and no consequences.” She was in the water, floating on her back, when I walked in. The boys were already gone. The pool was pink.