by Nina Miller
What if I became popular when the moon was full and roamed the halls in packs with the other predatory teens, athletic and sleek, shiny-haired with sharp teeth and sharper words; made others avoid eye contact and slink away into their open lockers, hide their off-brand jeans and knock-off shoes behind sheepish looks and listened to them whisper, who's she, when I pass, now entirely visible, appraised and found worthy?
What if I ate lunch with only apex teens; was out in the open howling in laughter at the lunch attendants' mustaches and hair-nets, biting off the hands that fed us burgers and tots; mocked other kids' boring meals as we gnawed on ours; left the hanger-ons to forage on my leftovers, hang on my every word, trembling at my comings and goings; reveled in the power of lunar-made popularity?
What if I skipped class with the alpha male; was aroused by their intense gaze and powerful haunches; snuck out to his fancy car enticed by fancier promises; wanted something primal and profound with an excitement that bordered on fear; bonded in a way that would have us crowned King and Queen at the prom; enjoyed the ecstasy of these moments until the waning moon rendered me invisible once again?
What if I desired this nightmare of who I could be yet feared the monster within that craved it; hoped to be immune to the predatory charms slumbering within my doe-eyed, grass-fed body; hated emotions that split me open, tearing me apart until I accepted I was always a wolf in sheep's clothing waiting on the next full moon?
Nina Miller is an Indian-American physician, epee fencer, and micro/flash fiction writer, in no particular order and sometimes simultaneously. She also enjoys writing competitions and properly made tea. She is currently working on her first novel. You can find her published pieces on her website, www.ninamillerwrites.com. Follow her on Twitter @NinaMD1.