The only sounds audible in the kitchen were the percolating coffee pot and the faint running water of the shower upstairs. Maureen focused on these sounds as she used every ounce of strength and resolve to keep from cracking under the ludicrous improbability of what was going on. Caitlin Landry, her best friend since the second grade, had grown from a slight 5'4" to an imposing 6'5" in less than a month. What was happening defied logic, physiology, and reason, but Maureen felt as if she alone were carrying this burden of this acceptance. Keeping a cool demeanor during the previous night's therapy session and the morning's shock of seeing a nearly-nude oversized version of her friend had pushed her to the brink of crumbling.

The gurgling of the coffee maker settled into a halt, and with a trembling hand, Maureen poured herself a small mug of coffee. Replacing the coffee pot, she set the table and took a moment to center herself. Don't think about it too hard. Sure, none of it makes sense. Sure, I could turn my best friend in for government testing. Sure, I could commit myself to an institution. But none of that matters. What matters is that you are always there for your best friend. No matter how craz…

A dull crash resonated through the house, causing Maureen to spill her coffee. She cursed softly before stomping up the stairs toward Caitlin's room. Caitlin's mother, disheveled but curious about the racket, peeked her head out of her room.

"Don't worry Ms. Landry," Maureen urged, striding quickly past. "I'm sure Caitlin's fine. Go back to bed." Ms. Landry responded by nodding softly through squinted eyes and retreating back to bed. Maureen stopped before entering the room, pressing her hands to her face and taking another breath. She entered to the sight of the two sliding closet doors dislodged from their hinges and laying about the room. Such a display of strength, while hardly inhuman, certainly exceeded the normal bounds of a typical, run-of-the-mill, Caitlin Landry tantrum.

"This is insane!" Caitlin fumed, strewing clothes about. "I just bought half a wardrobe just two days ago and I've pretty much outgrown all of it!"

"Cool it," the always rational and cool-headed Maureen commanded, approaching the piles of clothing. "My mom asked me a while back why today's fashion makes guys look like they just shrunk six inches and girls look like they just grew six inches. You were around six foot when you bought all this, right? We'll simply put that fashion theory to the test." Maureen sifted through some clothes and started making stacks on the bed. "I've already got a couple of ideas."

With Maureen's help, Caitlin assembled an ensemble that made her look reasonably normal, albeit obviously quite tall. A pair of long jeans that stopped a few inches above her ankles resembled a pair of capris, and a dark stretch tee underneath a semi-sheer white blouse looked reasonably fashionable, complete with the distraction of some modest cleavage and three buttons fastened underneath a formidable expanse of bosom that she had no hope of being able to hide. She showed a bit more midriff than she preferred, but given her undersized wardrobe, something would have to give (and she hoped it wouldn't be a seam).

The true dilemma came in the form of footwear. Caitlin's size 11.5 feet proved to be an insurmountable obstacle for a collection of shoes sized 10 at the largest. After sorting through the large pile of shoeboxes from her weekend shopping trip with Alexis, she was left with only two options: a pair of $1 bin shower sandals an inch too short, or a pair of size 12 shiny 3" heeled black boots Alexis had drummed up at a novelty store, clearly intended for a transvestite. She looked at Maureen who reflected indecision right back at her. "Take your pick: tacky or towering."

Caitlin smirked. "No contest." Just as she reached for the sandals, however, a crash of lightning exploded outside, and a heavy storm unleashed its fury on the suburban landscape. There was a brief pause before Caitlin kicked the sandals aside and snatched up the boots. "Someone out there is testing me today," she said, making her way toward the staircase.

Tell me about it, Maureen mused, following her friend out the door and into the downpour that ushered in the second day of finals week.

*****
The two girls said little to each other on their drive to campus, opting to settle for the ambient sound of windshield wipers working overtime in a torrential downpour. Maureen offered a ride, and Caitlin had gladly taken her up on it, only to find herself uncomfortably cramped into Maureen's small Dodge Neon. Even after letting the seat as far back as it would go, her knees still pressed into the underside of the dash. Maureen wasn't sure what to say to ease Caitlin's obvious discomfort, so she kept quiet, rather than inadvertently making things worse.

Caitlin's confidence and vigor that she had awakened with had deflated out of her like an old bicycle tire. Despite Maureen's urging, she couldn't help but feel grossly oversized in her clothes, and in spite of her efforts to conceal it, Maureen had visibly cringed at the sight of Caitlin's stature in the heels, which nudged her up to a staggering 6'8". To make matters worse, in the couple minutes it took her to negotiate her way into the passenger seat, the rain had nearly soaked her to the skin. The sunny Spring weather of the previous week caused her to underestimate her need for outerwear, and the only rainy-day articles she owned were pitifully undersized.

Maureen dropped Caitlin off at one of the less crowded side entrances to the school near the freshman lockers. Still unsure of what to say, Maureen managed to mutter "good luck" before speeding away toward the parking lot. Standing under the awning outside the hallways, Caitlin couldn't help but notice how different everything around her seemed. She knew that the longer she waited, the more likely she would be to psych herself into some kind of panic attack. In full fight-or-flight mode, Caitlin yanked open the double doors, and bounded into the hallway, head held high.

*BANG!*

A sharp and sudden pain to her forehead left her gasping for breath and seeing stars. The pain was followed by a metallic crashing sound immediately in front of her. She reached out for the door frame, her eyes squinted shut in pain as she desperately tried to gather her bearings. Her head throbbed and she hunched over, soft curses seeping out through clenched teeth. She had only been waiting for a few moments when the sound of murmurs and whispers saturated the air around her.

Caitlin looked up to see the shocked looks of a small group of students standing just inside of the door. The gathered students all looked up at Caitlin boggle-eyed. Even hunching over, Caitlin stood significantly taller than any of them, the tallest being 5'6" at the most. As Caitlin looked up and made eye contact with a boy whom she recognized as a freshman, he gasped and backed up, as if she were some kind of mutant. One of the girls gave him a accusatory look and approached Caitlin, though with a hint of caution in her body language.

"You okay? You really smashed into that thing."

Still dazed, Caitlin continued clenching her forehead. "What thing?"

"The exit sign. They really should be more considerate of people your height."

Caitlin looked down at the wreckage of metal at her feet. Sure enough, the remains of what had once been an exit sign lay scattered in front of her. Looking up, Caitlin saw hanging wires serving as the sole evidence that there had been anything there at all. The girl asked to see Caitlin's head to check for injury. Sure enough there was a small cut at her hairline.

"You may want to get that checked out. You got nailed pretty hard."

Caitlin nodded, but really only half-listened. The whispers around her burned at her ears, and she tried to zone out the voices and remember where she was headed. She knew she had a final exam soon, but all she could focus on were the voices around her:

"Jeez. That's a big girl. Who is she?"

"I'm glad I wasn't in her way. I could have been killed!" 

"I bet she could have burst through the door if she wanted to."

"What is she? Like, seven feet tall?"

"You sure that's a girl? Looks more like a dude in drag."

"Looks like a transfer student from the circus."

Still clutching her head, Caitlin rose up, doing her best to ignore the resounding gasp around her as she straightened to her full height, and headed toward the main hallway which would take her to her first final. After seeing what had befallen the exit sign, students parted like the Red Sea around her, giving her more than enough room to pass by. It was little consolation to Caitlin, as she felt a small knot forming just above her hairline and tears welling behind her eyes. She silently told herself that this was would not set the tone for the rest of the day.

She was wrong.

Her German final was a disaster. Caitlin struggled with both the answers as well as with the discomfort of the undersized chair-desk which left inadequate room for her lengthened legs. Making matters worse were the stares she endured from her peers, male and female, who could not seem to pry their eyes away from her. Whether in envy, wonder, lust, or just plain curiosity, students seemed so entranced by her that even when she made eye contact, many continued gaping at her, almost hypnotically. Caitlin's nervous, wandering eyes caught the attention of the instructor, who promptly approached Caitlin and snatched up her exam, accusing her of both causing a disruption and cheating. Caitlin’s made a few vain attempts to explain herself before  she was asked to leave the classroom. Caitlin tried to get up promptly, but her larger body complicated the maneuver and sent the desk noisily crashing to the ground.

Following a lunch period spent huddled alone behind the library, the stares continued to plague her in her American History final. Growing frustrated by the days' events, Caitlin caught a particularly slimy guy unabashedly ogling the profile view of her substantial bust. Following a futile attempt to fasten her blouse that only seemed to excite and encourage him, she cleared her throat, hoping to inform him that she was aware of his visual trespassing. After multiple attempts at the same tactic, Caitlin abandoned subtlety.

"Quit staring at my tits," she said aloud, breaking the silence of the room.

"Excuse me," Mrs. Gold spoke up. "Is there a reason we need to hear your voice during the final exam?"

Caitlin held her ground. "Yes, there is. This scumbag is groping me with his eyes."

"I find your language inappropriate, and if you will not be quiet, young lady, I will have to ask you to leave this classroom."

Caitlin was flabbergasted. "Excuse me!" she yelled. "I have had a really shitty day already and I would just like to do my final without this sick fucker staring while I'm trying to work."

"Young lady, consider yourself dismissed from this class."

Caitlin stood up, inadvertently tipping over yet another desk, and drawing the attention of the entire class. Mrs. Gold, an elderly woman on the verge of retirement, attempted to maintain control, despite being slightly intimidated by the furious, extraordinarily tall girl disrupting her class. This time, Caitlin seasoned her exit with an emphatic middle-finger to both her ogler and her instructor. "Consider that," she replied, storming out. The ogler, embarrassed, did his best to return to the exam while the Mrs. Gold reached for her stack of discipline report slips. She got no further than writing the date before she looked up at the class. For the life of her, she couldn't recall having seen that girl, or any girl that tall, ever before in her life.

"Class, can anyone give me the name of that girl?"

To everyone's equal surprise, no one could.