Max Evans gazed in the bathroom mirror. "Not looking good, chief," he said to his reflection. Hollow cheeks. Bags -- more like a full set of luggage under his eyes. His skin had a transparent, grayish quality. He noticed a zit on his neck. It was actually kind of...comforting. It made him feel young.
Max stepped onto the scale. Three pounds less than yesterday. A wave of panic rushed through him. He lost his balance, fell off the scale, and managed to land on the toilet. He covered his face with his hands. Am I having a midlife crisis at sixteen? he wondered. Why do I feel so weak?
He heard a shrill giggle from...