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down on her.
    Her parents weren’t crazy. They weren’t using some weird parenting technique. She knew it, in her bones.
    Literally.
    Her teeth began to tingle and slide against each other. She coughed uncontrollably, and before she could slap her hand to her mouth, she spat blood on her palm.
    “Mr. Blacktooth, I think we need to get her to a hospital!” There was no hiding the panic in Skip’s voice.
    The truck swerved to the curb and stopped short. Mr. Blacktooth muttered a curse, and then reached over Skip to shake Jennifer by the shoulder. “Coughing blood! What are you, on drugs? What did you just take?”
    “She mainlined chocolate chip ice cream, not heroin!” screamed Skip. He waved his awkwardly long arms in the air. “What’s the matter with you? Drive to the hospital!”
    Jennifer didn’t give them the chance. She reached down and unfastened the seat belt with her bloody hand while opening the door with the other; Then she scrambled out of the car and ran, through the yard and past the house into another yard, and out of sight.
    Eddie called out to her from the back of his father’s truck, but she could not hear her childhood friend. The blood was boiling in her ears.
     
    The journey home was the most frightening experience of Jennifer’s life. Alone, staggering through the dark, unable to hear beyond the confines of her crackling skull, Jennifer felt new sensations, most of it unbearable pain, in every corner of her body.
    Not just her teeth, but her entire upper and lower jaws were flaring. Her shoulder blades felt like they were splitting open and piercing skin. Her spinal cord curled and stretched.
    She screamed and then flinched. A roar of an animal burst through the chaos in her ears.
A lion or an alligator
? There was no one around her, though some of the bushes nearby cast deep shadows.
    Pine Street was quiet, with no joggers and only an occasional car. Most people were settling into prime-time television or a late dinner. Jennifer was both glad of this and alarmed—she didn’t want anyone else to see what she knew was about to happen, but she didn’t know if she could make it back home without help.
    The veins under her skin thickened and rose. Blue tinted her hands, then her wrists, then her arms. Her hair cleaved itself to her neck and shoulders; she could feel strands pressing beneath skin and weaving among capillaries.
    She let out another scream—the animal roared again—and stumbled to the sidewalk. Her knees scraped the ground, but she felt something tough under her jeans, something like leather, take the blow. An unbearable heat rose in her throat. It was hard to breathe.
    “Mooooom! Daaaaad!” Her voice was slower and deeper.
    Over her lengthening blue snout, Jennifer tried to spot home. It was less than a block away, but the lights were off. Where had her parents gone? They were likely out looking for her, probably frantic. She should have stayed in her room. They would know what to do. It would still be horrible, but at least they would be there.
    She had no idea what would happen to her next, and the thought terrified her.
    “Mooooom!” She coughed. What felt like vomit poured out of her mouth. A ball of flame singed her gums on the way out. The fire coursed over the paved sidewalk for a few feet.
    Her eyes glazed over and she crumpled to the ground.
    But she could still see, still feel, even hear?
Yes
, she could hear better now. A car coming, tires shrieking, a door opening, and then her mother’s voice.
    “Jennifer!”
    Hands pulled at her legs. Trusting the touch of her parents, Jennifer let herself slip into unconsciousness.
     
    She woke up to the familiar hum and vibration of the family minivan. Her parents had put down the backseat, and she was lying, curled up, in the cargo space.
    The first thing Jennifer noticed about herself was that everything still ached.
    The second thing was the astoundingly obvious horn perched at the tip of her snout, right before