Vampire Girl's Hot Girl Summer

Years of schooling and student debt have planted her right in the middle of the Arctic. She shuffled in place, feeling the snow crunch through her thick boots. Her hands opened and closed like the gills of a fish breathing underwater. Blood flowed from her heart towards the ends of her extremities, keeping her warm at the extreme end of the world. The heat crystallizing from her breath is the most she can take.

“She’s come knocking on your doors,” Vampire Girl whispered. “The vampire girl is here.”

She laughed and watched her shadow move below her. It’s not the daylight that kills her; it’s the heat—an odd allergy made for creatures of the dark. Multiple family moves across the southern border to the Canadian wilderness made it tolerable. The cool summers and blistering cold winters soothed her severe heat rashes, the exhaustion, the claminess in her hands when the humidity suffocated her skin. Despite her body reacting to the heat, she never lived a real hot girl summer.

It was obvious where her career would take her—up north. Space would’ve been better, with its freezing temperatures and far away from the earth’s blanketing atmosphere, but she wasn’t one for physics. Biology was more her style. She identified with the textbook photos and illustrations of penguins and seals. In her daily cold showers, she’d squeeze her skin—her blubber—and imagined the icy waters taking away her heat with the currents. Her blubber protected her from the heat, not the cold.

She sniffled, happy the red growing on her nose wasn’t a burn. Vampire Girl returned to her coworkers. There was the geologist, environmentalist, and more biologists—every slice of pie in the circle filled with its own flavor. She heavy-lifted boxes for the second time with ease while unloading her crew’s trucks. The exhaustion liberated her lungs, and her throat grew loose, wet with passing breaths. The first instance of physical labor met her with a trip to the ER and another layer of rough skin. She kept adding the layers of heat-burned skin, pinching the additional inches of fat.

The evening hours drew closer, but the sun wasn’t budging in the Arctic’s summer. It was personal hours for the team. Unlike her, they’d be curled up under red and black plaid blankets and sipping hot coffee. The bitter cold canceled out the overbearing body heat. She could breathe. The sweat pooling underneath her armpits, spreading between her toes, refreshed her. The heat never felt so good. She removed her gloves and coat, leaving a crumb trail behind her. It’s cold, so cold. The sun burnt the snow; its light bleached it stark. Yet, it wasn’t burning her. Warm rays ran cool on her cheeks, rippling off her dimples. Her scarf flew off in the wind. She let it fly. Her textured neck breathed like a toad’s, and her skin expanded. Pores let off steam and rose into the sky. Her skin bloomed, glowing white underneath the sun, and she smiled. She felt warmer, hotter, and it felt so good.

Vampire Girl decided to take a stroll on a nonexistent sidewalk. She imagined the years of staying locked inside the house, AC blowing, as the heat reflected off the street’s pavement. Strands raised toward the sky like wretched souls reaching for release from the dark tar. The heat danced and waved at her, taunted for her to come out and face it, but she couldn’t. Now she turned an invisible corner, wobbling on the sleek sheets, waving at the neighbors who drank an invisibility potion. They smiled at her, joking that she was no longer the vampire girl. They invited her inside.

“No, no,” she declined. “I’m a walrus. Even if you want me inside, I can’t fit. My blubber grew in thick.”

It was the first time she could truly enjoy a summer walk without a severe reaction. The corner store was right down the street. She was hungry for cheap ravioli in a tin can. It was a rare occurrence to enjoy a hot meal. Mom fed her cold grits, deli meats, and a bunch of frozen tuna salads. She squeezed her hands again, and they vibrated in greeting. Her skin slowly pulsed, and time slowed. The sun grew brighter, and sharp snow snapped at her cheeks. She didn’t feel it; she couldn’t care since she was at the corner store’s door. Its window mirrored her glee. She grinned with her reflection. Inside the store, hot dogs were turning in their sleep, and steaming nacho cheese looked good enough to swim in. The walls were lined with microwaves.

She went to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge—her hand wouldn’t move. Her tendons fiddled with her fingers, and they couldn’t lift their weight. Unimpressed, she sat down, understanding how hard it was on her body to walk a lot outside suddenly. Her skin matched the snow. She turned her hands over, observing the white fat that finally hardened. She pinched at it, satisfied with its firmness like a walrus. The thick skin kept her warm, trapped the body heat mammals need to survive in deathly low temperatures. She burned underneath her skin, becoming harder to bear. It reminded her of previous summers spent fainting and sweating dry. She kicked off her leather boots and removed her wool longjohns. Now, she had no use for them. Her blubber had grown in. It’s hot—she’s hot on the inside. It’s her hot girl summer.

Vampire Girl lay down on the ground, making stiff snow angels in the snow. Her body sunk lower into the ground, burrowing in her den. She couldn’t dig anymore because walruses don’t dig. Time flew slower, the northern summer growing longer, and she felt the pores in her skin close. Good, it’s good—her blubber blanket. The heat never felt so comforting. It stopped stinging. She stared into the sky, the sunlight covering her eyes, sifting rays over her rolls of rough skin. The temperature rose within her, and gradual breaths floated above her. It’s her mist, her exhaust—she made it rain in the Arctic summer.

“It’s warm.” She breathed out.