Maureen assured Caitlin she would arrive as soon as possible, and hung up promptly. Caitlin listened as the line settled into a dial tone, and eventually an anxious beeping before powering it off and dropping it to the bed. She gazed about the room, taking in the sight that would be greeting her friend when she arrived. Outside of the broken picture frames, shattered phone, and mountain of clothes strewn about, everything actually seemed fairly normal. Caitlin actually had barely moved a muscle since her most recent growth spurt, not wanting to acknowledge any of her physical changes. This took a certain amount of denial on her part, since she couldn’t fit all of her body under the blanket and she could feel her expanded breasts cradled in her arms as she held the blanket tightly around herself.

How bad could it be?

Throwing caution to the wind, Caitlin shut her eyes, tossed her blanket aside and pushed herself off of the edge of the bed and onto her feet. In addition to the sooner-than-expected impact of her feet to the floor, her weight distribution was ridiculously out of whack, and she opened her eyes halfway through the maneuver to keep from plowing forward into her dresser. She ungracefully caught herself by grabbing onto an open drawer, but didn’t dare look up into the mirror atop the dresser. With her head hanging forward and down, the first thing that greeted her eyes was the text on her bargain bin t-shirt which, due to the protrusion of her breasts, now looked straight back at her. She read the upside down text to herself.

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer.”

She was still leaning forward onto the dresser, and her hair hung into her face, obscuring her view of the mirror. Did her hair seem…longer? The feeling of being so out of place in her own body made her chest feel hollow, and she slowed her breathing to prevent a panic attack. Pushing herself upwards, she worked her way to her feet, still averting her eyes from her reflection. If I look even half as different as I feel…

She allowed herself to straighten up, but kept her eyes closed. Pushing as few strands of hair out of her eyes, she took a deep breath, exhaled, and opened her eyes. She looked straight forward, then down.

Where’s my head?

She stared into the mirror, but all that looked back at her was the bottom half of her gaping jaw and the oddly distended message on her t-shirt. The image of herself in the mirror stopped just above her shoulders, while everything above was cut off due to her towering height which now extended above the mirror. She opened her mouth to scream, but a crippling weakness in her body suddenly overcame her. The world, already a funhouse mirror, started spinning as she could feel the impending grand return of her impromptu dinner.

A gruesome, muffled, retching was heard by Caitlin’s parents, gathered downstairs in the family room quietly reading. Her mother looked concerned, while her father only raised an eyebrow.

“I imagine we’ll be seeing Maureen soon,” he said, before returning to his articles.

******

Naturally, Maureen’s mother asked her where she was going at 8:45 on a school night during finals week. “Caitlin’s having a crisis” was a pretty stock answer by this point. She considered a variation, but “Caitlin is turning into a giant” seemed too, well, honest. This was her mother, and she was in high school. No more honesty would be necessary.

Caitlin’s mother greeted Maureen with the same cordial greeting that always seemed to say, “thanks for putting up with our basket-case of a daughter.” Maureen embraced her back with a hug that replied, “No problem.” Given the nature of her visit and Caitlin’s supposed condition, Maureen watched closely for any unusual body language from Caitlin’s mother, though it seemed to indicate a run-of-the-mill monthly Caitlin meltdown. Maureen was convinced Caitlin could walk down the stairs headless with three extra limbs and Caitlin’s mother would probably just make her a cup of tea and suggest she stay home from school for a couple days.

Maureen made her way up the stairs toward Caitlin’s room, pondering over how nothing really prepares one for the sight of a semi-grown person in a hyper-grown state. Maureen, who had always been fascinated by biology, felt she should be picking up the shattered pieces of her perception of reality by now. Then again, Caitlin’s problems had always seemed psychological, and, strangely, this case didn’t seem any different. As per her usual routine, Maureen knocked twice, identified herself, and opened the door.

Caitlin sat motionless on the bed, uncomfortably hunched over with a blanket wrapped about her in an inadequate attempt to hide her predicament. Her long feet poked out from beneath the blanket, and her lengthened torso bent at an extreme arch. Caitlin’s face wore a mixture of nausea, despair, and embarrassment. Maureen stood in the doorway staring at her friend for a few moments before bursting out laughing, and Caitlin simultaneously vomited over the side of her bed into a trashcan. The sound of retching cut short Maureen’s fit of laughter, but she was still wiping away tears as she approached the bed. Caitlin frowned, swapping despair with anger.

"You’ve got a lot of nerve," Caitlin choked out. “What kind of fucking friend are you?”

“You look ridiculous,” Maureen replied, still grinning.

“You’re a bitch.”

"Nice to see you too," Maureen said, leaning in to hug her friend. Caitlin tightened up at the embrace, not returning it, but rather gripping her blanket tighter. Maureen hugged her tightly, suppressing her discomfort with the noticeably wider circumference of Caitlin’s shoulders. Caitlin finally let her head fall on her friends shoulder and Maureen patted her on the back before stepping back. “Now, will you drop that stupid blanket, please?”

"No," Caitlin snorted. Messy strands of her dyed hair hung into her face, and her blonde roots were showing, indicating that her hair had recently grown at an unnaturally accelerated rate. Maureen waited, letting the silence settle uncomfortably while Caitlin, who had yet to look up at Maureen, fidgeted with her blanket.

“In case you forgot, you invited me over,” Marueen said, but Caitlin didn’t reply. Maureen rolled her eyes, “...and try not to vomit again, please.” Caitlin frowned in response, but her hair still obscured a full view of her expression. Her hands gripped tightly at her blanket, which now seemed more an idle preoccupation than an attempt to cover herself. "Caitlin," Maureen began again. “Either you take of the blanket, or I take it off of you.”

Caitlin frowned, sighed, and abruptly dropped her blanket. Maureen, unprepared, barely concealed a gasp at the sight.

At first, Caitlin appeared to be all limbs, legs, and digits, each twitching and fidgeting as Caitlin fought the urge to stretch. Caitlin’s body hadn’t simply increased in size, but had changed shape, lengthened, to the point that, if not for the head perched atop the body, Maureen would never have recognized her. In an attempt to minimize the space taken up on the bed, Caitlin wrapped her limbs around her body, obscuring a full view. Caitlin had detected Maureen’s reaction and began tearing up again. “I didn’t ask you here to gawk at me like a freak.”

"Then act like a normal person," Maureen shot back. "Relax and quit acting like a caged animal."

Slowly, Caitlin unfolded herself, first allowing her legs to extend from underneath her skirt. She moved slowly and carefully, as if she were seated on a layer of broken glass. Maureen monitored her own breathing, using all her resolve to appear unfazed at the sight before her. As Caitlin extended her legs over the edge of the bed, she felt with her toes for the floor. Despite her efforts, her feet met the floor with another audible thump. Hesitating only briefly, she relaxed her arms, revealing an oversized t-shirt which visibly clung to her chest, exposing the outline of her breasts overflowing the confines of her bra.

"Stand up, Caitlin," Maureen requested, as Caitlin seemed content with a seated position.

Caitlin shut her eyes again, took a breath, opened her eyes, and lifted herself to her feet. Caitlin winced at a slight creaking in the floorboards, which probably had always been there, but never really affected her until now. Maureen seemed to shrink in front of her as she rose, higher and higher, feeling like she were on the ascending end of a ferris wheel. As she reached her full, standing height, Caitlin noticed that her view of Maureen, now slightly over a foot shorter than her, was partially obscured by her expansive chest which jutted prominently before her. Again, the two girls let the silence hang between them. Caitlin still avoided making eye contact with Maureen, while Maureen remained captivated by the sight of her friend before her. She did some quick mental calculations, noting that while Caitlin wasn’t in danger of crashing through the ceiling, she might have to look out for door frames. “How tall are you now?” Maureen asked, her wonder evident.

"I was about 5’9” this morning, before my fight with Nicole," Caitlin stated, emotionless. She could barely comprehend what she was saying. “I was around six foot when I left school. Now…” she made an exacerbated gesture at her body with her hands, “your guess is as good as mine.”

Recalling rumors of Caitlin’s altercation with Nicole, Maureen chuckled softly. “You’re just full of surprises today. Any idea what’s causing it?”

“Literary metaphor, apparently.”

Maureen mulled this one over briefly, before letting her eyes fall upon Caitlin’s chest. “You certainly personify character development.”

“Har har.”

“Life making you feel small?”

“Shut up.”

“So, why didn’t you tell me?”

Caitlin didn’t answer.

“Did you think I wouldn’t understand? Well, I don’t, but I can’t imagine anyone else does either. Did you think I would report you the X-Files? Why, all of a sudden, could you not tell me anything?”

Uncomfortable with their orientation, Caitlin sat down on the bed to speak to Maureen on the same level. "I’m sorry Maureen," she said softly before continuing. “You’ve been the best at everything as long as I’ve known you. You’ve always had better grades, you always dressed better than me, you’ve always been a better athlete, and you’ve always been better looking than me.”

“Caitlin…”

"No," Caitlin cut her off. “Don’t try to cheer me up, because I don’t need it. I don’t have a problem hanging in your shadow. I never have. I never compared myself to Alex, either. Shit, the girl’s like a cartoon character. Anyways, as long as I remember, I’ve always had you there to see what I’ll never be, and I’ve liked it that way. I didn’t want to be taller than you, I didn’t want to have bigger boobs than you, and I don't want to draw attention away from you. I need you to…well…be the bigger person I guess. In all ways.”

Maureen waited a bit before asking, “Who are you?”

“What?”

“Who are you?”

“What is this? Some kind of Alice and Wonderland caterpillar thing?”

“Who are you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I want you to tell me who you are.”

“I’m your best friend.”

Maureen shook her head. “Uh uh. Try again. Leave me out of this. Who are you?”

Caitlin looked up to reply, but nothing came.

“Caitlin. I’m not going to flatter you by giving you the ‘you’re special in your own unique and beautiful way’ talk. We’re too good of friends to for that kind of shallow bullshit. You’re a disaster. You are neurotic, bitchy, and, on some days, just plain bat shit crazy. And you know what? I love you for it. You’ve got more bitch in you than the cheer team and the tennis team combined. You’ve got personality, and yet you go to such incredible lengths to squelch that. Don’t compare my grades to yours because we both know you hate academics. Don’t compare our fashion, because I know you hate how I dress. Don’t compare us athletically, because you’re only half-assing it to put it on your college application. Finally, don’t compare our looks, because you were prettier than me before and you’re definitely WAY hotter now. Your problem is you just put so much effort into making yourself invisible that your body is fighting back.”

Caitlin rubbed her fingers at her temples. “So you buy that symbolism thing too?”

“Seems like the obvious answer. Unless you’ve been bombarded with radiation, volunteered for crazy medical testing, or eaten magic mushrooms, that’s the best solution I can come up with.”

“So, how long will I grow?”

"Honestly, I have no idea," Maureen shrugged. “I figure, you’ll grow until you become who you’re supposed to be.”

“So why doesn’t anyone notice?”

“To put it bluntly, because there was nothing to notice. You’ve spent so long suppressing your individuality. As long as you did that, it wouldn’t matter if you were bright green, you were still going to be the same, shallow, bitchy person you’ve always been. Anyways, who, besides Alex and I, hangs out with you enough to really notice anyways?”

As always, Maureen’s fearless honesty put Caitlin at ease. She looked, yet again, at the wreckage of her room and the expanse of her body. “I guess I really am growing into myself.”

"Indeed," Maureen affirmed. "So, that aside. Who is it?"

“Who is who?”

“Don’t play stupid with me. We’re done with that. Yeah, yeah, growth spurts, blah blah blah, whatever. You’ve been having those for weeks now and, all in all, it really hasn’t phased you much. Vomiting, breaking things, violent sobbing, I know you Caitlin Rachel Landry. You’ve got a crush.”

Caitlin bit her lip in anticipation of the impending grief she was about to get from her friend.

“Seriously Landry. Spit it out. Who is he?”

Caitlin took a breath before muttering almost inaudibly. “She.”

Maureen’s eyes went wide as saucers before re-composing herself. “She? My my Caitlin. You are full of surprises.”