The rest of the day, the entire vibe was off.

Elyse sat in Applied Algebra and Trig with a completely dumbstruck look, unable to follow the lecture of the tired teacher who didn't want to be there just as much as her. She demanded the confidence to reappear. "C'mon, what the hell happened?" She wanted to feel like she did this morning, but couldn't bring herself to sidestep the uncomfortable scenario she had been put through with Jeremy. 

The story was not supposed to end like this. Elyse had imagined slowly pressing her rubber sole down on him, rubbing it back and forth, scraping dirt and shoe gunk onto him as she told him exactly what was going to happen; payback for years of torment. She'd tell him right then and there how disgusted she was, how repulsive of a person he is, that he is the problem with society, his racism, narcissism, bigotry... and after educating him on everything he did wrong, she'd lift her sneaker, and with one last movement, permanently snuff Jeremy out with a gory squash. She thought she'd love to see him panic and apologize, but... not this way. 

The primal sadness that Jeremy exhibited stuck with her. She went to the bathroom and peeled the inside of her pocket back to reveal he was still comfortably asleep. What the hell was supposed to happen now? 

...

Elyse stopped at her front door; the first guest from school into her house was going to be... Jeremy? It revolted her. But look at the bright side; she could do whatever she wanted. No one would know he exists. Flush him down the toilet, stab him with pencils, stomp him like initially planned, these ideas gave her a sense of comfort as she creaked open the door and B-lined for her room. 

Without checking, she grasped his soft, flimsy body from her pocket and threw him into an empty strawberry Smucker's jar. His ass smacked the glass, he held the back of his head. 

"What the hell are ya doin', you crazy bitch..." 

Despite the mental breakdown and immense size difference, the boy still had the balls to complain. Elyse couldn't help but laugh. The boy was enraged, and took the time to really observe what was going on. 

He used to be a few inches taller than her, but her body was now a skyscraper; he didn't understand it. Her chest jiggled beneath her cotton crop top. Every part of her he looked at seemed magnified at this angle; her smooth, cappuccino skin layered with occasional goosebumps, her perky little breasts, the fibers on her clothes, every single strand of hair, there was something magnificent about it. He didn't realize he was staring. 

He had woke up at some point in the tight confines of her pocket with a deep sense of shame. He even punched her thigh as hard as he could, over and over, that went totally unnoticed by her. He'd punch himself exhausted, rest, then do it again, kicking and yelling, but it was barely the strength of a phone's vibration. 

He could tell he was in a girl's bedroom, he used what little mental capacity he had to conclude it was hers. He scanned the bookcase, walls, TV set, searching for something to make fun of her about, until he found it. 

"...Is that a Rocky Horror poster? Christ, you're fuckin' cringe." It was the only thing he could think of to retain any ounce of power he had.

Before he knew it, everything started shaking. She had lifted the glass jar and poured him onto a wooden end table. He landed right beside a condensation stain from a cup with no coaster, with a familiar ass slam and head scratch.

"I was about to kill you, literally, I was about to stomp on you, but your crying was so sad that it grossed me out, so I thought I'd wait to kill you when you weren't crying... maybe tomorrow." 

Jeremy, still hiding any and all signs of weakness, coughed to cover up the audible gulp in his throat, tried to steady his heartbeat, and unwiden his eyes that were propped open in total fear. He uncomfortably moved around with crossed arms, eyes up to the roof. 

"See if I care, cunt." 

The performance was a little too obvious at this point. Elyse decided to ego check him. Her hand came close to his body, her middle finger pressed against her thumb cocked with a flick. She angled it so that the flick would punt his head clean off. His shaky voice interrupted her. 

"Wha- I... you just said tomorrow! I thought you said tomorrow!" He cowered, backing up with his hands, unable to escape the radius of her potentially lethal  blow, following him. 

"I thought you didn't care? Dude, why are you acting like such a hard ass? I could literally flick your head off." 

Reality weighed down on Jeremy. He's gotten through worse situations with his forced bravado. 

For people like Jeremy, appearances take on much more significance than they do for others. He will walk to school cutting through old people's yards, leaving tracks while standing up straight, shoulders back, chest out, because if his persona were to collapse for a single moment, there would be questions. Any weakness at all, any moment a guard is let down, it could be used towards other people's advantage. He's tried vulnerability before with his parents. It hasn't worked out well. 

Jeremy has thought about what he would do if his classmates found out about his home life. What would happen if someone peered through the window to see his father holding a hunting knife to his mother's throat as she cries, demanding an apology for a betrayal that never actually happened (he got to school late today because this kept him awake until 2am), or if they saw him in the middle of playing Xbox get punched in the nose by a fully grown man, causing him to bleed and lock himself in the bathroom. He concluded suicide would be the only escape from such embarrassment. 

"We're gonna pretend like you didn't just have a mental breakdown on the floor of the janitor's closet? You even said 'sorry', it didn't sound like you at all." 

He stood up, fists cocked to his side, and proclaimed with more confidence than anything he's ever said, "Some people got fuckin' problems lady, what's yours, anyways? You got no friends, so instead of shooting up the school, you shrink 'em and step on 'em? You're a fuckin' freak, you know that? A cold hearted bitch. You're everythin' I hate about women. You don't even care what 'bout anyone but yourself." His voice wobbled and collapsed, the tears he was hiding during the entire rant helplessly ran loose. He bent down and covered his face. "Don’t look at me, look the other way!" he screamed. 

"See? See what I'm talking about? Quit acting so tough, you're just hurting yourself."

He sniffled and cleaned himself back up much faster than before. His head came back up with a furiously intense face, steaming dark red, seemingly prepared for death. Elyse sighed, rubbing her eyes. 

"You brought me back to kill me, so do it. I mean it this time. I couldn't care less." he demanded in an uncharacteristically quiet tone. He closed his eyes and sat criss cross, gentle tears forcing their way though, with a newfound sense of stoic strength. He knew he was born into this world to suffer. Life was a rigged game, nothing made sense, God was dead, fuck everything. An angry thought loop echoed through his mind as he quietly sat, welcoming death out of pure spite. 

Elyse thought for a moment. She could very easily and powerfully slam her fist down upon him. She could put him on the inside of her sneaker and suffocate him beneath her sole. She could chew and mangle his flimsy body into a bloody, gory mess. She considered all of these things. She sighed again, hard enough to breeze her breath gently past Jeremy's face. He opened his eyes to see her in thought. The both sat in a comfortable silence. Both emotionally conflicted, her sitting on her bed and him still criss cross. 

"Hey." Elyse broke the silence. The boy opened his eyes. "In the closet, before you shrank, what were you saying sorry for?" 

"What?"

"You said 'I'm sorry' before you shrank. What for?"

Jeremy recollected, and was hoping she wouldn't ask, but offered a potential excuse. "Just one of those things that comes out, I guess, like instinct, or somethin'." 

"No it wasn't. It seemed like you meant it." 

He had turned away without looking at her while he answered, prompting suspicion. She questioned him again. "Tell me." 

"I was... thinkin' bout how you probably don't like it when I say shit to you, like mean stuff or somethin', I felt like you were gonna tell on me or try to kill me or somethin', just felt lousy is all, not a big deal, Jeez." 

Elyse smiled. 

In Jeremy's meditative criss cross, he dozed off again for a mere 10 minutes and woke to the thumping bass of Roddy Ricch's track 'Ballin'", Elyse dancing in the body mirror while rapping along, "I put the new Forgis on the Jeep", her body contorted sexually in the mirror, she felt up her curves, "I TRAP UNTIL DA BLOODY BOTTOMS IS UNDERNEATH", she was taking full advantage of the fact that her mom wasn't home yet. Jeremy rubbed his eyes laughing to himself. She saw him in the mirror reflection and turned around with a slight embarrassed smile. 

She ran to the phone on a small table in front of the one Jeremy was sitting on. She didn't pick it up, instead bending over, jutting her ass outwards to type on it, seemingly in a show specifically for Jeremy. He felt guilty staring as her ass popped out, her thin workout shorts plush tight against her cheeks, a pink edge of laced floral panties ever so gently sticking out from the side. 

She paused the track and hopped down to sit in front of the end table. She laid her massive arms along the edge, startling the boy a bit. She rested her head on her arms, squishing her face a bit, staring curiously at the tiny Jeremy. The view of her face and arm up close stirred up something deep within him; the field of tiny hairs strewn across the top of her caramel brown arm, the plush lips glimmering with freshly applied chap stick, the recently groomed sharp eyebrows, it's like her beauty was multiplied by 100. 

He guiltily remembered why he was here. "So..." He sat in a fetal position, unconsciously vulnerable, powerless under her gaze, looking the other way. His voice was weak. 

"You're kinda cute when you're not a huge asshole." 

"I ain't cute, don't call me cute." 

"No, really, it's kinda adorable." 

Jeremy felt that he should be mad, but didn't necessarily bring it out. 

"...Whatever." 

She noticed herself smiling, then wiped it away, snapping herself out of it. Don't feel anything for him, Elyse. He's a pest, he's a piece of shit... right? 

Reality, at this point, was also weighing down on Elyse. She knew on a deep level that killing him wouldn't be a good idea. It wouldn't be good for her mental health, karma, or the possibility of imprisonment... then again, she could just shrink every cop that tried to get her... but a shrink rampage would be an even darker path... that part of her kinda liked... but she snapped out of it again. 

She decided to keep the boy on his toes. "It's entertaining to see the big and powerful menace of Forthright High at two inches tall." 

Jeremy got hard, but luckily his legs hid it. Why? He asked himself, his eyes danced around the table, his face still engulfed in a pink hue, why do I like this? He was at a loss for words, not even a witty response, so he sat quietly mysterious. A cool breeze from the window chilled his spine and forced out a noticeable shiver. Elyse stood up grabbing the Smuckers jar with her left hand and motioned towards her busy desk caked with papers, books, drawings, assignments, and miscellaneous mess eventually grabbing a wash cloth and stuffing it in the jar, bringing it back to reveal a little makeshift bedding. She cupped the shivering boy off the end table and placed him gently in the jar. 

He tried to wrap himself with the edges of the cloth; the red patterned fabric was frayed and scraggy and chafed his skin, but it was better than nothing. Elyse brought her eye to the opening of the jar; Jeremy peered up into it frighteningly unsure of the ideas she had in store. 

"My breath smells good, don't worry" she said before bringing her lips to the opening. Her mouth opened, a deep, humid exhale filled the glass. Condensation formed all around him as he sat bathing in her artificial spearmint scented warmth, recently having chewed a piece of gum. Jeremy looked up at her open mouth; there was something so graceful about it, her white teeth, her slimy tongue, and it scared him greatly that it was as big as his bedroom. Would she toss him in? She could, for all he knew. Jeremy bathed in the warmth as Elyse continued her deep exhales until the Smuckers jar became a greenhouse before she was called to dinner. 

"Sit tight." She smiled down into the opening before prancing away with loud thuds. 

Jeremy was washed inside of a new feeling; something inside him that's been dormant since he was an infant, something primordial, a universal good that he knew must be how normal people felt. He couldn't label it. He visualized that one pyramid in psychology class, he couldn't remember the name, but "Abraham Lincoln" came to his mind, obviously that wasn't it but who cares, what was on the pyramid? It was a hierarchy of needs for a person to be happy or something... then it clicked. For the longest time, he has stared at this pyramid confusedly, not sure what it meant, and after deep thought about this pyramid, came to the conclusion that he was unfamiliar with the content within the pyramid because the very bottom requirement for people was "safety". Safety... safety... I'm safe, right? In the middle of class? Technically, but he had realized that he had never felt truly safe, and that was exactly what the mysterious emotion was that overtook him. Here, in the bedroom of his victimized schoolmate that he's tormented so liberally, in this empty jam jar amidst a feminine mess of clothes and school supplies, lying in the residual humid air of her breath, a sense of true, honest safety.

He stared up at the ceiling through the opening, as it was the only thing to look at, in deep thought, asking himself questions, trying to figure out what these conflicted desires were, how to act on them, what to even do next.