Caitlin slowly began to feel herself drift back into consciousness, but along with that came a glaring feeling of discomfort. It was bright outside and the clock read 9:17. She’d slept for nearly fourteen hours! Her mind snapped back to her discomfort as she noticed that her breathing was somewhat constricted. Her shirt was still on and it was gripping her body tightly. Still kind of groggy, she attempted to slide her arms into one of the sleeves, but found that she could not do so. There simply was not enough room for her to complete such a maneuver. She glanced down at her midriff noting that more was showing than should have been, especially in her seated position. She took hold of the bottom hem and peeled the shirt upwards. This maneuver worked much better and she felt notable relief at getting the shirt peeled off from around her chest. She slipped the remains of it over her head and guided her arms through the sleeves. She tried to take a deep breath but noticed that her bra continued to give her discomfort. She rotated her arms a bit, letting her previously constricted shoulders and arms get some needed circulation, but something felt…different. It was still dark in her room, but noticed that she didn’t feel quite right. She struggled to find the right words. She almost felt bloated, but it didn’t come with the typical nauseous feeling. As she stood up, she felt even more disoriented, but she still couldn’t place why. She reached for the lamp and flicked it on.

Immediately one thing was obvious to her. Her bra looked ridiculous. Her boobs were filling the cups and then some. She was clearly wearing an undersized bra, yet she knew that could not possibly be the case. She knew her bra size like she knew her birthday and would never buy the wrong size. Caitlin then considered the possibility that she put on weight. Heading over to her mirror she inspected herself for evidence of the 4000 calories she consumed before she went to bed. Oddly enough she didn’t look particularly different outside of the fact that her bra was clearly a size too small. She removed it and checked the tag, though it read 34B just as she expected. Eyeballing herself in the mirror, she noted that she definitely didn’t look like a B-cup. Perhaps a C, but definitely not bigger than that. She put her fingers to her chest to check for anything unusual. No pain which would have indicated swelling, no lumps, no nothing. She was about to head to her closet to grab a larger shirt when she looked once more at her reflection. Something else did seem to nag at her but she couldn’t quite place it. It became more apparent as she attempted to get dressed. She had changed out of her capri pants which she had soiled with mustard and ketchup and had slid into her jeans only to have the cuffs slip up to nearly her ankles.

“Okay, what the fuck?” She muttered under her breath. “Why the hell would my pants be too…”

The answer didn’t take long to come up with, but it would take some time to process. She was at least an inch or two taller. Her perspective in her closet mirror wasn’t unfamiliar, it was what she was used to, when wearing heels. However, she was at the moment barefoot and standing half undressed with her pants unbuttoned and her cuffs at her ankles. She could also feel that, in addition to the ill-fitting cups, her bra generally was constricting much more than her boobs, but her entire torso and shoulders. Confirming her suspicions, she reached up to grab her towel from the top of the door frame and found it noticeably easier to reach. She instantly broke into a cold sweat and stumbled backwards onto her bed. She was almost dizzy with anxiety.

“What…the…fuck?” She asked no one in particular as her breathing came shallower. She felt on the verge of passing out when her phone started ringing with the Maureen’s characteristic ring tone. Her mind was still whirling, and it took three rings for her hand to subconsciously reach out and grab her cell and flip it open before she even realized what she was doing.

“Hey stranger, what’s up?” Maureen’s voice chirped. “It’s like we haven’t seen you for days.”

Caitlin, taken off guard, searched for words. “Um…yeah, you know. I’ve been feeling kinda'…odd lately, getting out of the hospital and all.” She glanced down at her chest and ill-fitting jeans. “I haven’t been feeling myself lately.”
Maureen wasn’t sure what to make of Caitlin’s queer demeanor, but shrugged it off.

“Feeling a little under the weather huh?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sick.” Caitlin agreed, liking the sound of that excuse. I’ve been all bloated, and generally nauseous. I feel like I can barely walk.” She was being fairly truthful at this point. “I’m definitely in no condition to leave the house,” she said, almost chuckling to herself at this point at her honesty.

“Wow, bummer.” You know, Alexis is over here, we might just stop on by…”

“No!” Caitlin cut her off suddenly. There was an awkward pause, and Caitlin searched for a way to resolve it. “The doctor says I may be coming down with the flu…from…being so weak and…stuff. I’d really hate to make you guys sick. The flu’s a real killer.” She was determined to deter Maureen, but she knew that it was futile at this point.

“You kidding’ me? You think I fear the flu? Dad’s gotten me more flu shots than I can even remember in the past year. It’d take the elephant flu to get past my immune system at this point, and the flu might do Alexis some good. She could use some slowing down.”

“You know I really thi…”

“Don’t worry! We’ll be over in a sec! We’ll bring soup and stuff.” Caitlin could hear Alexis’ voice in the background.

“Does she need my heating pad? How about my leg weights? I have a thigh-master.”

Maureen sighed heavily. “I gotta’ go, Alexis needs the difference between influenza and cellulite explained to her. See you in five!”

Maureen clicked off and Caitlin was left staring dumbfounded at her phone. There were no secrets among them and Maureen knew Caitlin’s body probably better than Caitlin herself knew it. While two inches and a cup size may have seemed trivial, Caitlin knew that to Maureen, and particularly Alexis, it was the rough equivalent of her growing a coat of purple fur and a second eye in the middle of her forehead. She searched around her room. Her need to hide her predicament was currently trumping her worry about the predicament itself. She considered wearing shorts which, the way she cut them, never really looked long anyways. That didn’t hide the problem of her being suddenly two inches taller. Then there were the boobs. A bra was definitely out of the question, as her new boobs wouldn’t look right at all exploding out of it. No bra wouldn’t fly either. Her new perkiness would be like a neon sign to Maureen’s hawk eyes.

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway snapped her to attention. In a sudden flash of panic she grabbed her two largest sweaters and stuffed herself into them and yanked a down comforter from the top shelf of the closet. The padding would be her best bet. Nothing like a little padding to hide a little more padding she thought. The only problem now was looking like she actually was in need of all the insulation. Her anxiety, combined with the layers and the eighty-five degree heat outside were immediately posing a problem. It still beat the alternative though.

Just as she settled in, Alexis burst in, all giggles and bright eyes, followed closely after by Maureen carrying a handful of items, including a few DVD’s, a thermos, a small bag of ice, a couple of medicine bottles, a teddy bear, magazines, and what appeared to be a thigh-master.

“Guess who made head cheerleader!” Alexis shouted, clearly unable to hide her joy. She shot one leg in the air and launched into an impromptu cheering session. “ALEXIS! ALEXIS! A-L-E-X – OW!!!” She was stopped short by a sudden shove to the ground by Maureen who seemed anxious to be rid of her burden of gifts.

“Hey girl,” Maureen said, stepping over Alex. “Feeling under the weather?”

Caitlin feigned a groan, and let her face voice the discomfort of being way too hot. Maureen carefully placed each of the items on Caitlin’s nightstand, including the teddy bear which appeared to be holding a bottle of pills.

“I brought you a sniffle kit.” Maureen announced. “Everything you’ll need to be on your way to feeling better.”

“…and having great thighs!” Alexis chimed in, getting to her feet and gesturing toward the thighmaster.

Caitlin smiled at her friends’ effort, but continued to make her best show of looking as miserable as possible. Every time Maureen looked at her she felt paranoid that despite all the layers she would somehow notice that the circumference of her chest was an inch and a half greater than before. Alexis she worried less about, since she was more caught up in explaining the proper form for using the thigh-master and the surprising variety of ways in which it could be used. Maureen rolled her eyes and stacked the magazines and books next to the bed.

“I brought you a few movies too. Figured if you were too sore to move then you could just lie there and let your eyes do the work.” Maureen instinctively started picking up clothes and tossing them into the laundry bin, not seeming to suspect that anything was out of the ordinary. This made Caitlin relax a bit and simply enjoy the company of her friends. She even allowed her attention to go to Alexis and her demonstration of how the thigh-master could be used to work her triceps.

“…what the hell happened to your shirt?” Maureen suddenly chimed in. Immediately detecting urgency, Caitlin spun over to look at Maureen holding her mini-polo.

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath at Maureen’s open mouthed stare at the state of her shirt. The stress lines were evident and she would have to think quickly.

“I don’t know,” Caitlin spit out quickly, “I think my mom must have worn it.”

“Well I’d be pissed if my mom got mustard on my shirts. She’d have hell to pay. Anyways, I can see we’re obviously not going to entice you to get out of bed and go anywhere. You look a mess. We’ll come by tomorrow to check on you.” Maureen headed toward the door. Caitlin was relieved that her friends hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary, and actually felt sorry to see them go.

“See you guys,” Caitlin choked out in her best sick/misery voice.

“See ya’ Caitlin!” Alexis chimed, heading toward the door. As it was about to shut she popped her head back in. “On the plus side your boobs have gotten bigger!”

Caitlin’s eyes went visibly wide and she felt anxiety rush blood to her cheeks.

“W…wh…what?” Caitlin let out, stuck between confusion and surprise. Maureen rolled her eyes. “Whatever Alex, I’m sure the thighmaster will even her out,” Maureen winked at Caitlin. “And don’t worry about Alex, she seems to be confusing the flu with cosmetic surgery. Come on Alex.” Alex seemed unaffected by the responses around her and her mind quickly wandered to another subject. “I wonder if my boobs will grow if I get the flu.” She pondered out loud. “Can I stay with Caitlin for a little longer?” Maureen grabbed her arm, gave a slight wave to Caitlin and yanked her out, shutting the door. Caitlin heard Alexis chattering all the way down the stairs and even out to the car, clearly picking up the word “boobs” repeatedly.

She lay in bed and waited for the sound of Maureen’s Dodge Neon to disappear before checking the window and getting up. She peeled off her sweaters, which, for various reasons, were soaked with perspiration. Once again, she was greeted with the unfamiliar sight of her chest which hindered her downward view more than she was accustomed to. “Well, I’ve got to do something. I can’t just sit in my room topless all day,” she thought to herself. She figured that what would serve her best would be a sojourn mall to grab some clothes that would at least give her some comfort for the time being. She then realized that, chances are, someone she knew would see her at the mall and she wasn’t quite ready for that, so she tried to imagine where she could get clothes where no one she knew would see her. It didn’t take her long to figure that one out. “Wal Mart, here I come,” she sighed to herself.

Naturally, clothes would be a necessity. She had stuffed herself into a sports bra and a large t-shirt, which actually made her look normal sized, for her anyways. Despite achieving the effect she desired, it was way too uncomfortable for practical usage. Pants were trickier, since her sweats fit but looked oddly undersized. She tried shorts, only to discover that her growth hadn’t been limited to her height and chest. She knew she had some that would probably fit, but the only clean pair she had was a little too snug. In the end she settled for a long purple skirt which looked odd with the gray t-shirt, but she figured she couldn’t be under dressed for Wal-Mart. She slipped on a pair of sandals and a large pair of sunglasses to complete her off-beat ensemble and made her way.

She took a forty-five minute drive out of town to the next closest Wal-Mart, just to ensure that the chances of someone she knew seeing her were slim. The Northshore Wal-Mart was fairly empty, as it was 10:00 in the morning. There was a coffee shop next door and she stopped in for a drink since she had yet to eat anything. The barista, a skinny kid with black dyed hair and plugs in his ears mistook her bohemian look for a beatnik and chatted with her. She even noticed him take a couple casual glances at her boobs; nothing too creepy, but the kind that told her that she had new attention-getters on display. In the past she occasionally wore a push-up bra if she wanted to turn heads, but a C-cup wasn't exactly small so she accepted that she should probably get used to it.

She was not yet convinced that all of her clothes would not fit her, so she felt she should limit herself to only a few purchases, namely bras. Taking a handful of sizes to the fitting room, she discovered that she was now a slightly smaller C-cup compared to the average B that she had been since the eighth grade. She wasn’t sure how to feel about this. She was most certainly bigger than she used to be, but compared to the school as a whole she wasn’t anything particularly special. After all, it wasn’t as if she never wore push-up or padded bras anyways. If she switched to a normal bra, hardly anyone would notice. She considered buying a larger push up bra, but after trying it on she realized it would make her to conspicuous and the whole school would be convinced she had implants. She settled on a few C’s and, on a whim, grabbed a D that was a little big.

After being in the sports bra all day, the new bra felt amazingly comfortable. She admired how she properly filled it out and how her new boobs looked in the bra. She looked at her t-shirt and remembered her undersized mini-polo at home that Maureen had gaped at. The thought of having clothes that fit was appealing in the face of a wardrobe that would be largely slightly small, and she went back out to the sales floor (still in her new bra) to find more clothes that fit. Feeling a growing confidence in not only her new stature and safety in her unfamiliar location, she felt safe to experiment a little. She grabbed a pink polo and some black form-fitting jeans (both slightly larger than she was used to) and was on her way back to the dressing room when she thought of her ill-fitting sandals.She made her way over to the shoe department and perused the rows of shoe boxes. Her size was only a bit larger than she had previously been, and she spied a pair of platform sandals. The heel had to be at least three inches, and she grabbed them as well, taking them back to the dressing room. Inside, she slipped on the pants, shirt, and finally the shoes. When it was done, she stood back and looked at her reflection. She was taken aback.

While her previous height had been a modest 5’4” with the shoes and her two new inches, she stood a statuesque 5’9”. Leaving the dressing room, she walked out onto the sales floor, and immediately noted her new perspective. She was awestruck as she looked around and admired the view. “So this is what it feels like to be Alexis,” she thought to herself as she moved about. Though Alexis often wore heels for modeling, she rarely wore them otherwise because she lacked the proper grace to walk in them without falling frequently. She couldn’t believe how good it felt to be taller. She felt confident, and most notably, sexy. She headed back to the shoes and dug around for another pair of platform sandals, and found another pair of with four inch heels and a one inch platform. She paid for her purchases, and, before leaving changed into her new bras, shoes, and pants, and made her way out.

On her drive home her mind was going a mile a minute. She thought about her sudden change, and what this really meant to her life. Two inches and a cup size seemed trivial, but that would make her as tall as Maureen and somewhere in the league of (but still significantly below) Alexis’ legendary bust. While that all seemed exciting, she knew that even if she were to suddenly sprout six inches and three cup sizes, she would just be “the hot bitchy supermodel who hangs out with Maureen and Alexis.” Suddenly her changes didn’t seem as exciting, but almost seemed as if they could be just a bigger wall keeping her as she always was. She thought of the punk emo coffee shop employee and how he chatted it up with her just because he thought she was a hippie. It felt kind of nice to have a little genuine conversation as opposed to the gossip and biting sarcasm that she normally stuck to. She imagined walking into school the next day with her platforms, black pants, purple tank top and students simply dismissing her as just trying to get attention. When she got home, she had convinced herself that the idea of reinvention just wasn’t viable to her and she tossed her bag into the closet and dialed up Maureen to gossip about Jill Stevens’ eating disorder and Megan Wollery’s ugly red braces.