I closed my eyes tightly. This had to be a fucking dream. But when I opened them again, the same unfamiliar face was staring back at me from within the mirror.
Some aspects of her face were familiar, I conceded. The dark eyes, the mouth. But the skin was decidedly paler than it had once been, which would be difficult to accomplish. But facts were facts, and the person staring back at me was milk white. The hair was darker, too, almost black. And longer, reaching almost to the hips. Combined, the two traits gave me an almost ghostly look. The bone structure of my face, had been altered, making me look like some freakily perfect version of myself. I wrinkled my nose and tapped at the glass. This couldn’t be real.
In the next moment, horror of all horrors, I opened my mouth. My teeth were, for the most part, normal. They had been inexplicably bleached, like the rest of me. But I had fucking fangs. At this point I had to roll my eyes. How fucking stereotypical was that. It must have been some shitty joke. Whoever had come up with it really wasn’t that creative.
I probed one of the pointed teeth with my tongue. I cursed silently as the unbelievably sharp tip drew blood, but paused and stared in awe as they instantly retracted, leaving me with a Hollywood smile.
“What the hell?” I whispered to the mirror, slapping my palm against the glass.
I turned sharply at the sound of a low chuckle, flinching in surprise as I noticed a boy leaning against one of the porcelain sinks nonchalantly, as if he saw this kind of thing every day.
I opened my mouth in shock, and spoke in a way that highlighted my true genius. “This, th-this is the women’s room.” Brilliant. Fucking brilliant. As if that fact held any relevance in comparison to all the freaky shit that was going on in the school bathroom.
He arched an eyebrow, looking amused. “Is it really?”
I stood there, speechless and staring, probably looking like an idiot.
He looked at me as if waiting for a response. There was none. He sighed and rolled his eyes almost disappointedly, slightly annoyed.
“It’s the same thing every time.” He muttered, stepping languidly away from the sink. “So, what do you know so far?”
“I,” I stammered, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He laughed, but not in a friendly way. “Okay. We’ve got a real bright one here.”
I flipped. “What do you fucking expect?” I growled, surprising myself by stepping forward and grabbing the collar of his shirt. I didn’t know people actually did that. I mean, I’d seen it in movies. Whatever. I grabbed his shirt. “I look in the mirror today and suddenly I’m this fucking weird vampire thing? Do you want me to recite a fucking Shakespearian monologue? I don’t know what you were expecting, but I’m kind of a mess right now. So after all that shit, I have this deranged guy appear out of fucking nowhere who starts insulting me? I don’t have time for this.” I searched his face demandingly, but found nothing but an annoyingly smug half-smile.
“It’s not ‘vampire.’ This isn’t Twilight.”
I hissed. “That’s not the point.”
He raised his eyes in genuine surprise. “Voluntary control over fangs? At this stage?” He furrowed his brow. “That is really weird.”
I poked out my tongue to find that the hideous things had extended. I cringed in disgust. “Ew.”
“Fangs aren’t gross. They’re a privilege.” He looked at me exasperatedly, as if I were dense. “Now get the fuck off me so I can tell you what’s going on, instead of wasting time.”
I glared as I shoved him away, but he just nonchalantly straightened his shirt. The guy pissed me off to no end.
“Number one,” he spoke as if he were speaking to a child, “We’re not vampires. Don’t be stupid. We’re fae.”
I resisted the urge to punch him in the face, laughing. “You honestly expect me to believe that? This has got to be a fucking joke. You sound like an idiot. Or crazy.”
I tried to push past him, to get out of the bathroom. I just needed some fresh air to come to my senses.
