If you're reading this, I either survived high school or I'm a vampire's midnight snack.
Let's hope it's the first one.
It all started on a Wednesday, aka the worst day for dramatic life shifts. I was wearing my "Science is My Sport" hoodie, carrying three library books on the mating rituals of prehistoric birds (don't judge), when I opened the janitor's closet and found Ethan Blackwell—the hottest, most unbothered boy in the tri-county area—sucking blood out of a metallic pouch labeled "O Positive."
I screamed.
He sighed.
And just like that, my life went from zero to "what the actual fangs?"