"Hey Cait, it's Tegan. Mom told me about your accident. I just wanted to see if you were okay and how thing have been going. I'm not sure when I'll be home next, since the internship's got me in Chicago for most of the summer, but I'd really like to get home if I can. I guess you're busy, or shopping, or something. Anyways, give me a call sometime, and be sure to let me know if anything big happens. Later!"

The message ended, and after a moment's consideration, Caitlin deleted it. Having so little in common, she and her sister had never been particularly close. With Tegan away in college, however, they'd grown closer in the last couple years and Caitlin typically enjoyed their catching up time. Like their father, Tegan Landry was even tempered and studious. Plain, stout, and barely over five feet tall Tegan, shared minimal physical characteristics with Caitlin, and Caitlin had been taller than her sister for a few years. Caitlin could only imagine the look on her sister's face when she sees her for the first time in months, with Caitlin towering over her by more than a foot. She looked down at her enlarged breasts and lengthened legs. I guess this would qualify as "something big."

Caitlin took the freeway out of town toward the Northshore Mall. Over the course of the drive, she pondered her recent changes. On one hand, she knew something highly unusual was happening to her. At the same time, the mild reactions to her changes from those around her–particularly Alexis, her mother, and even Nicole–put her at ease. At what point do I start worrying? Caitlin thought to herself. How big could I possibly get?

Caitlin recalled the couple of hours she spent online researching her problem over the weekend. She'd turned up a few articles on hormonal imbalances and pituitary disorders, but each case exhibited physical deformities as well as a list of ailments which she didn't have. While abnormally tall, most of the individuals–even in the most extreme cases–grew a quarter-inch per month. Following her Chinese buffet ordeal, Caitlin had grown three inches overnight.

Aside from medical journals, she also came across a number of fetish sites, chat rooms, and message boards covering everything from tall women and large breasts, to impossibly gigantic women, big feet, growing breasts, and even swallowing fantasies. While she was generally turned off by these sites, she had to admit that if she had less shame, she could probably make bank with her own website as some of these people's wildest fantasies come true. Crazy what some people are into. She thought.

Caitlin pulled into the Northshore Wal Mart parking lot, and her phone chimed with a text message from Maureen which read "Call me." If their encounter in the hallway served as any indication, things were undoubtedly getting a bit weird between them. Caitlin had avoided Maureen (and most others, save Alexis) for a few days, and she couldn't recall the last time the two had gone longer than a couple days without speaking. She pulled into a parking space and texted her back "I will. gtg," and prayed that would postpone their inevitable encounter for at least another day. 

In the meantime, Caitlin whimsically headed a coffee shop, "Bean Town," for a late-afternoon perk. The café was empty save for a couple community college students absorbed in their laptops, and both gave Caitlin a brief, but deliberate, second look. Caitlin had spent a great deal of time fielding stares all day, and she prayed for a female barista. If she felt the heat of any more lecherous eyes on her, she was certain she'd burst into flames.

Upon reaching the counter, a petite, bright-eyed blonde girl with a ponytail and a myriad of bracelets popped out from behind the espresso machine. Caitlin tried to discern her age, but the girl–no more than 90 pounds soaking wet–could pass for either a mature-looking teenager or a pixie-ish young adult. She offered a chipper greeting, and informed Caitlin she would be with her momentarily. Caitlin felt obscenely oversized in the presence of the tiny girl, whose head barely reached past her chest level. After wiping down the milk steamer and tossing a few towels away, the girl turned her attention back to Caitlin. "Sorry about that," she chimed. "What can I get for you?"

Caitlin had been so preoccupied with the girl's relative height discrepancy to her own that she had not considered her drink order. She abruptly gathered herself and spouted together an order involving the words "chai," "espresso," an Italian word indicating size.

"Sure thing sweetie," the barista said, grinning widely. Feeling oddly self-conscious, Caitlin avoided eye contact and looked down to the name "IVEY" splayed in all caps on her nametag. "Sorry if I'm running a little behind. We just lost somebody and are totally short-handed."

"Did he skip out on work or something?"

"No. He died. Hit by a delivery truck," Ivey replied matter-of-factly between measuring espresso shots. Caitlin's eyes went wide, and she recalled the off-beat kid she had ordered from only two weeks prior.

"He didn't have black hair and plugs in his ears did he?"

"No, it wasn't Tristan. Though he's been working OT the past couple days to cover for the kid. Caleb was his name." Ivey stopped suddenly, her brow heavy with concern. "I'm sorry, I just realized you know Tristan, you didn't know Caleb did you?"

"No, just Tristan."

Ivey looked relieved. "Okay, good. Not to speak ill of the departed," she continued, "but the kid was a total burnout. He got wasted and got run over when he fell asleep on the loading dock. It's sad, but he kinda' had it coming. Weird world we live in."

"Tell me about it," Caitlin said. "You have any other employees to call in?"

"We would normally, but the other girl is on vacation out-of-state, the boss is up to her neck in paperwork, and Tristan's past his OT limit." Ivey paused, before grinning again. "Why, you lookin' for a job?"

Caitlin was taken aback. "Oh, no way. I don't know the first thing about coffee."

Ivey slid Caitlin's drink to her, and narrowed her eyes. "No, I could see you working here. Not to be too forward, but this place gets pretty busy and you've got the goods to get good tips." With that, Ivey let her eyes travel over Caitlin's frame, and Caitlin reddened in response.

"Excuse me?" Caitlin's said, in a combination of surprise and offense. "I'm not some floozy bartender."

"Of course not. You aren't old enough."

"What are you implying then?" Caitlin persisted. "What do I look like?"

Ivey tilted her head thoughtfully. "Someone who's ready for a change." There was a brief moment between them  before the door opened and two older women entered. Caitlin stepped back and Ivey extended an application toward her, which Caitlin took before she thought to argue further. "I've got customers. This drink's on me, sweetie."

Caitlin opened her mouth to protest, but, to her surprise, said "Ok."

"By the way, if you're shopping for clothes. There's an outlet store on the east side of this plaza."

"How did you…?" Caitlin began, before looking down at her partially buttoned jeans, undersized shirt, and sandals. "Thanks. I'll check it out."

*****

As opposed to Wal-Mart, Caitlin found herself overwhelmed by the abundance of marginally-fashionable and modestly-priced merchandise outlet store offered. Given the ever-increasing length of her inseam, however, she wasn't sure she would find anything to fit her outside a big & tall shop. She turned up a few long skirts (which only reached her calves) that could keep her covered, as her old skirts–already short at her pervious height–pushed the boundaries of modesty. Caitlin also found herself picking out garments atypical of her normal fashion sense, including non-designer t-shirts with striking designs, a hoodie with a sports logo, and a couple pairs of loose cargo pants which were long enough for her inseam though a bit wide in the waist.

She also turned up some foundation garments, namely a few bras, as at her current size, walking around without a bra was basically an open invitation to gawkers. Caitlin was relieved to find a 38DD/40D bra that fit adequately, though only as a substitute for a 36E that she actually needed, but the store didn't carry. She also picked up some underwear and pants she badly needed, since her hips, while not as dramatically expanded as the rest of her, had grown out a bit. 

After nearly an hour browsing, Caitlin felt she had all she needed to keep herself decent, provided she had seen the last of her unexpected growth spurts. She hadn't considered the possibility that she could grow again, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized that there was really no way to know. She then thought of her earlier exchange with Nicole.

"So, I guess you'll be blaming this on me."

"Why would I blame this on you?"

"What? Are you telling me you haven't figured it out yet?"

"Figured what out?"

"Your…um…unique predicament."

"What about it?"

"Come on. It's almost poetic."

"What the hell was she talking about?" Caitlin wondered aloud to herself as she dumped her purchases into the back of her car. She checked her phone again, and she had missed three calls. One from her mother, likely wondering where the hell she was, and two from Maureen. Her phone indicated one message and she debated whether or not she wanted to check it. She felt another pang of guilt at having avoided her best friend for so long, but at the same time she felt anxious at the thought of presenting herself to Maureen. Maureen, the girl with everything. Great grades, great personality, great looks, great body…

"Great God, what are you still doing here?"

Caitlin yelped as she snapped to attention. She glanced over her shoulder, but was confused when she didn't see anyone.

"Down here sweetie."

Caitlin turned completely around to see Ivey sipping a large iced tea which looked ridiculously large in her small hands. Ivey glanced between Caitlin's still undersized ensemble and the piles of bags loaded in the trunk.

"So, did someone steal your clothes or something?"

"Unexpected late growth spurt," Caitlin replied, shrugging.

Ivey chuckled. "Quite a doozy apparently. How old are you?"

"I turned eighteen three weeks ago."

"Yeah? You go to high school around here?"

"St. John's Academy."

Ivey whistled, and Caitlin expected a snide comment about her prep school. Ivey seemed to consider it, but decided against it. Instead, she extended her hand. "I don't think I've asked your name."

Caitlin gave her name and accepted the girl's hand. For the first time since the conversation started, Caitlin realized again how small the girl was. Ivey's assertive and confident demeanor had nearly made Caitlin forget their relative size difference. The assortment of bracelets Ivey wore rattled as they shook hands, and Caitlin found herself a bit on the defensive. Ivey smiled and introduced herself as Ivelene DeMonterey.

"It's a mouthful, I know." She admitted. "My middle name is Chanelle. I feel like you could split my name into three different perfume fragrance brands, or gourmet cheeses." Ivey seemed to wait for a reply, but Caitlin said nothing, but smiled and laughed softly. "Anyways Caitlin," Ivey continued, "I imagine you've got places to go and people to see. I hope to hear from you soon about the job, or otherwise."

"Yeah," Caitlin muttered, though nodding in reply.

"Later!" Ivey shouted, heading off toward her yellow VW bug parked at the far end of the parking lot. Caitlin still stood there with her trunk open and her phone screaming Maureen's all-too-familiar ring tone. She looked in her hand at the piece of paper slipped to her during their handshake. On the paper was Ivey's name and phone number written elegantly on a ripped off piece of newspaper with only a brief message.

"Call me, sweetie."

The voice mail chime broke the silence, and Caitlin shut her trunk, got into her car, and headed home.