8
MYLA
AGE TWENTY
Nothing personal, but I hate doctors. But when it comes to Dr. V, I’ll keep an open mind. After all, the guy did rush over to check on me after I went from regular- to baby-sized in record time. And it’s a good idea to have check-ups in an actual hospital-like setting.
Which is where I am now: Sitting on the examination table, my legs swinging below me, and Lincoln’s acting like he’s King of the Sketchypants People.
Dr. V. saunters about the room. He’s short, wiry, and works a goatee like a movie star. I might have a little crush on him. We make some small talk.
Then, Dr. V drops the hammer.
“Is kale a big part of your diet?” asks Dr. V.
“Eew. Are fish heads part of yours?”
“Just answer the question, your Majesty,” says Dr. V smoothly.
“No,” I reply.
“Spinach?
