The doors to Cordelia’s home flew open, banging against the kitchen counter. Andy held open the door while bowing his head politely for Cordelia to enter first, although his dinosaurian size made his gesture awkward, almost laughable.

“Don’t break down my house,” Cordelia said as she entered the house and checked the counter, sighing when she found it had earned a deeper doorknob imprint in the side.

“Can’t control these muscles sometimes, babe,” he said, following her and closing the door. It slammed shut so hard that Cordelia had to give him a nasty glance over her shoulder.

“Try.”

“Hey, fruit!” Andy said, grabbing an apple out of a nearby fruit bowl and sinking his teeth into it.

“…Help yourself. You know I spend my hard-earned money just to put food on the table for you.”

Andy chewed loudly. “How is cashiering at the supermarket anyway?”

“I’m a waitress,” Cordelia stared at him. “At the diner. I have been for the last six months.”

“Do you have any milk?”

“If you haven’t chugged it already.”

But Andy was already raiding the fridge, grabbing an assortment of fruits and carrying a gallon of milk over to the counter with his teeth gripping the handle since his hands were full.

“It’s always a pleasure to have you over,” Cordelia said halfheartedly.

“Need my power drink if I’m going to bring home the cup this year. This is the year of the Wolves! Where’s the blender?”

“Right in front of you…”

Andy grabbed the power cord to the blender, pushed the bread box out of the way, and plugged in it. Then he began shoving the fruit inside the glass canister.

“Don’t forget to peel the bananas first this time,” Cordelia sighed, grabbing a knife and helping him with the more complicated fruit that was most likely beyond his 2.3 GPA average.

“Lemons,” he remarked. “We need lemons.”

“I think we’re out.”

“You can’t be out.” He began raiding the fridge again, knocking jars together as he reached for the back. A head of lettuce fell and rolled across the floor.

“Would you stop!?” Cordelia exclaimed, gathering the lettuce and cups of yogurt that had hit the kitchen tiles. “I said we’re out of lemons!”

“Milk. We need milk.”

“It’s on the counter where you left it.”

Andy poured the milk over the fruit in the blender and then drummed his fingers across the buttons. “Lemons, lemons. Gotta have lemons.”

“Isn’t that shake disgusting enough without them?”

“How much are lemons at the supermarket?”

“I don’t know.”

“You work there, don’t you?”

Cordelia sighed. “You’d have to buy a whole bunch.”

“I only need one.”

“You can’t go into the supermarket for a single lemon.”

“What about one of those stupid little sweetener packets? The pink and white ones you girls are always fumbling with to put in your ice tea.”

“Stupid…little…sweetener packets,” she mumbled. “Stupid, little…”

“You got those, don’t you?”

“Seeing as how I’m a fumbling girl, I guess I do.”

“Great, babe, where are they?” He was busy searching the cupboards before she could answer him.

“Why don’t you just drink Gatorade?” Cordelia stuck her hand in the blender, pulled out a strawberry, and bit into it as her buffoon of a boyfriend continued looking for something that was sitting right out in the open by the microwave.

“Everybody drinks Gatorade. I do better on the field than them because I got my secret power drink.” He paused for a moment. “You got Tabasco sauce?”

“That’s sick, Andy.”

“Come on, pour a few drops in there. I gotta find those packets.”

Groaning, Cordelia plucked the tiny red bottle of Tabasco sauce out of the open fridge and carried over to the blender. She held it over the mixed fruit, pounding on the bottom like she would a baby, covering the fruit in little red blotches. Then, looking over at Andy, she figured he deserved a really nasty aftertaste, so she squirted a little more out and replaced the cap on the bottle.

“I can’t find the packets,” Andy complained, now that he had turned over her whole kitchen.

“Forget them. This is gross enough.”

“What about potatoes? How would those taste?”

“…I’m sure you’d love them.”

“Got some?”

“No. You’re not breaking my blender by putting a potato in there.”

“You could cut it up.”

“Would you forget it already? That’s disgusting. You could just make normal shakes like the other boys. It’s not like this concoction of yours really works miracles.”

Andy wrapped his arms around her waist, swaying back in forth in a slow dance as she began to cut up an apple into small slices for him. “Come on, babe. You’ve seen me play. I perform miracles, don’t I?”

“It is a miracle that you’re able to dress yourself in the morning.”

“At least my shirts reach my waist. Yours can’t even seem to reach your belly button.”

Cordelia was glad she had her back to him because her face turned red and she tugged at the red t-shirt under her coat with her free hand, trying to pull it down. “I’m going to change.”

“Don’t change too much,” Andy said, spying the core of the apple his girlfriend had just cut up and plopped it into the blender. “Hey, what about the sweetener packets?”

Cordelia opened the pantry, grabbed something out from the middle shelf, and tossed it over to Andy. “Here, try this.”

“Crystal Light?” he asked, turning the small cylinder container over in his hands. “Hey, it has lemons in it!”

“Just artificial lemons. Try not to make a mess, pleeease.”

“Does that mean I should cover the blender this time?” Andy laughed as he popped over the container with his thumb and pulled out a small pink packet. He tore it open, sniffing it and feeling a slight rush course through his body. He sniffed it again just for fun.

“What should I wear to your practice?” Cordelia asked, then she looked up at Andy’s goofy smile and turned away. “Nevermind. I’m putting on a sweatshirt.”

“You know I love it when you tease me,” Andy said, pouring the contents of the packet into the blender. “Hey, this stuff looks like sugar.” He thought about for a moment and then laughed. “Alright! Sugar rush!”

Remembering to put the lid over the blender and secure it in place, Andy ran his finger over to the start button and pressed it. The blender began to shake and wobble across the counter until he caught it, pinning it down under his hands while the blades worked their magic. Slices of bananas, apples, strawberries, and grapes began to liquefy among the milk and Tabasco sauce, turning a nasty shade of blood red to an awful purplish-brown that looked like something on the bottom of somebody’s shoe.

Unbeknownst to Andy, though, the crystallites from the sugar packet were reacting strangely to the mixture. Then began to reel around, spreading out like atoms among the swirling whirlpool, and sparkled like moon dust among the fruit. The crystallites began to grow harder and bigger, as it taking a solid form, and then melted away when the blender clicked to a stop. Yet the chemical reaction had done something to the drink, causing it to shimmer in a radiant glow.

By the time Andy had pried off the lid, the glow had disappeared from the drink and the sickening mauve color had returned. The crystallites had shrunk down to an almost microscopic level, broken away in the liquid, but still glittered faintly like distant stars at night.

Grabbing a dirty glass from the sink, Andy tipped over the blender and poured himself a full glass, not caring that this fruit concoction looked far more appalling than anything he had made to date.

“Hurry up, Cori!” he yelled before bringing the glass to his lips. “Don’t want to be late for practice!” Then he stared down at the drink, still with chunks of fruit that hadn’t quite broken up yet. “Well, bottoms up, I guess.”

He chugged it all. It didn’t matter how rotten it tasted or how much he wanted to spit it out, he guzzled it down and slammed the glass against the counter as if he were taking shots from the local bar.

“I love it!” he exclaimed through his clenched teeth, not really loving the taste at all, but loving the power he could feel surging through his veins. Then he felt something strange. His muscles were contacting, tightening on him, and he suddenly found himself gripping his throat for air. His lungs had constricted as well.  Stumbling back, he felt his legs give way and he collapsed next to the fridge, holding up a shaky hand. If his eyesight hadn’t gone blurry by now, he could’ve sworn his once brawny fingers were like that of a baby—still muscular and strong, but tiny. Small. Too small. He tried to grab the counter to pull himself up, but for some reason he couldn’t reach it. Something inside of him began to shimmer, glow, break away, shrink, and he could feel his molecules bubbling. Then all went black.