I first noticed I was changing when I was 12. I developed a stutter that hadn’t been there before due to the fact that my tongue sometimes felt longer than normal. Also, I was hotter. Not like that. I mean genuinely warmer. My skin was cool to the touch, but my core was a furnace.
But I didn’t realize that I was different until the morning of my 13th birthday. Not that anything extraordinary happened. I just got my first pimple. Well, I got what should have been my first pimple. From a distance, it even looked like a little red bump just hanging there, right beneath my left eye, high up on my cheek bone. When I first saw it, I was bummed out, but when I leaned it to look closer, I totally freaked.
“This is not a pimple” I said outloud. “It’s a…” I pulled it off. It hurt, a lot. And bled. Luckily my little brother has been the biggest science freak since the beginning of time, so I took it to his room and put it under his cheap little microscope.
“Oh. My. God. It’s a scale.”