Whatever dragged itself across Thurber Avenue that evening was surely not human. I’d been speeding because I was already past curfew on the way back from my friend Jenna's house, and my Dad was going to kill me. "I swear, Dad, we were working on our project about climate change and just lost track of the time." Well, that's what I was going to say. He could never know the truth; that we sat around playing MarioKart until the boys -- yes, boys -- came over to hang out. A perfe

Benjamin was at it again. Only this time he had an audience. “Do you hear that?” my mother asked. “Hear what?” But I knew exactly what my mom heard. It was footsteps from up above. Loud ones. Think, angry-bull-practicing-tap-dance-routine loud. Mom was over for dinner to celebrate the first week in my new place. First house of my own, actually. And already, she had something to say about it. I was attempting to finish cooking my famous made-from-scratch fettucine alfredo, (wh

The infant on the table lifted a tiny fist into the air, its mouth flopping opened and closed like a groggy little fish. The nose was straight. Cheeks rounded and rosy. Ten fingers, ten toes, two ears, and one curly strand of blond hair plastered to its shiny forehead. Healthy, perfect even. Except for one thing. Its eyes were red. “You’ve trained for this, you know what to do,” said Dr. Harnsby, barely giving the child a second glance. I did know. I was still a lowly intern,