After being given a half hour to cool off, both girls were escorted to the principal's office. They assured Mr. Knightley that they could peacefully cohabitate before he left them alone with the secretary to wait for Principal Gray. Caitlin, in the meantime, worked her way through the remains of a sub sandwich left on the office table from a faculty meeting. Though Mr. Knightley had already offered her most of his own lunch, she could only pretend to be satisfied. She was still starving, and following Mr. Knightley's departure, she asked the secretary if there was any food, claiming she had run late and had no time to eat or pack a lunch.

Nicole alternated icing her ear and the bruise around her eye, but was soon distracted by her companion who had polished off a good foot-and-a-half of a six-foot sub. Seemingly in shock from the whole ordeal, Caitlin stared forward silently, eating relentlessly as if in a trance. Nicole was not particularly afraid of Principal Gray, and, if anything, found their occasional encounters more of an inconvenience than anything. She waited a few more moments before speaking.

"Hey Landry." Caitlin said nothing. Nicole shut her eyes tightly and settled herself before continuing. "I'm sorry."

Caitlin stopped chewing. "Hmm?" she replied, not wanting to let her full mouth drop open.

Nicole grudgingly repeated her apology. "I said I'm sorry. I figured I'd say it now before Rusty orders me say it. It probably won't mean much then."

Caitlin assumed "Rusty" was Nicole's nickname for Principal Gray, whose red hair was his only remotely interesting characteristic. Nicole was quite familiar with the man, and Caitlin had encountered him a few times when he commented on her "attire not suitable for a young woman in a learning environment."

Caitlin finished her last swallow of the sandwich. "Thanks," she said. "Sorry about the eye."

Nicole chuckled. "Sorry? Don't apologize for that. That was the most bitchin' thing I've ever seen you do. Didn't think you had it in you."

Caitlin half grinned. "Neither did I." She eyed the sandwich, and pondered whether she should grab another segment. She waited a bit, noticing that the awkward silence was returning, so she grabbed another piece and dug in. Caitlin's gluttony was not lost on Nicole, but she decided against commenting. This, however, left her with nothing to say. So they sat in silence while Caitlin worked her way through the sandwich. After a bit, Nicole spoke up again.

"Is it just me, or are you, like..."

"I grew six inches in the last three weeks," Caitlin answered, figuring the truth would be stranger than fiction at this point.

"Okay, that explains it," Nicole replied, unfazed by Caitlin's admission.

"You don't think that's weird?" Caitlin asked.

Nicole shrugged. "I used to have green eyes. I had a bad mushroom trip one night and the next morning my eyes were gold."

"That didn't freak you out?"

"I guess I just really wanted bright golden eyes. I saw them on TV a when I was younger and I thought they were the coolest thing ever. I guess chemical abuse was the kick my mind needed to get over the hump. Mind over matter, you know? I told my mom they were contacts, and she eventually forgot about it."

"So you're saying I just want to grow taller?" Caitlin asked.

"Do you?"

"No, not really. I can't honestly say it's a fantasy of mine."

Nicole shrugged. "Anyone cast a spell on you?"

"Not that I know of." Caitlin polished off the last bite of the sandwich. She abruptly stopped chewing and turned to Nicole. "Unless, it was you…"

"Excuse me?" Nicole replied, slightly miffed by the accusation. "Even if I could, why the hell would I cast a spell on you?"

"I dunno," Caitlin rolled her eyes. "Maybe because you hate my guts."

"I don't hate your guts."

"Yes you do!" Caitlin replied, stopping short of yelling and dropping to a quick whisper. "You just attacked me, like, half an hour ago!"

"Excuse me? If you recall, I believe you started the little scuffle."

"You were going wreck my project!"

"I was offering to help! I hadn't seen you ever do anything like that before and you looked like you could use some suggesti…" Nicole narrowed her eyes. "Are you sweating?"

"You aren't hot? It's boiling in here." Caitlin wiped beads of sweat away from her forehead.

"Uh…it's probably sixty-five degrees at the most. You running a fever or something? Maybe you're sick. You just ate, like, three feet of a sandwich."

Caitlin froze. She thought of the last two times she ate that quantity of food and the events that immediately followed. Oh no. Not again. She thought. Please God not again. The last two times she had been unconscious (for one reason or another) and woken up taller. This time, however, she didn't feel tired. If anything, she felt like she'd just drank a quintuple espresso with extra sugar. For all she knew she was about to go into cardiac arrest.

"I need to get out of here," Caitlin said aloud, to no one in particular.

"Uh, I don't think that's gonna happen. We're kind of in trouble."

"I can't stay here. I need to go."

Nicole was about to protest when she noticed a familiar silhouette outside the office door. She darted over to the faculty room table and grabbed one of the remaining pieces of sub sandwich, ignoring the accusatory glance of the secretary. She got back to her seat just as Principal Gray entered the office, and she shoved the sandwich toward Caitlin.

"Eat this. If he asks you anything, play stupid. Follow my lead. I'll have us, or at least you, out of here in three minutes tops. "

Caitlin wanted to reply, but before she could Mr. Gray entered and she obediently set to work on the sandwich. Mr. Gray examined the cuts, bruises, and scratches on both girls before shaking his head in disbelief and ushering them into his office.

Contrary to the stereotype, Principal Gray was not the prototypical hard-nosed disciplinarian. A young man in his early thirties he had taken the job as high school principal after teaching political science at a state college. While generally a kind, empathetic man, he had little success socially in college, focusing mainly on his academic pursuits. His years of postgraduate experience had done wonders for the school's academic reputation in the past two years, but dealing with discipline problems of this magnitude was completely foreign to him.

Mr. Gray was a bit surprised by the two young women who both, for entirely different reasons, seemed more apt to be found on a college campus than a high school one. The heavily pierced girl, whom he had encountered before, had poise and outspokenness more typically found in college campus protests than in high school classrooms. The second girl's demeanor characterized her as a run-of-the-mill indignant teenager with more attitude than self-confidence. Her long, lithe body, however, was definitely not the norm for most high school students. Her clothes, which appeared to be slightly undersized, further exaggerated her curves. The scene was made all the more surreal by her wolfing down the remains of a sub sandwich in a rather unladylike manner.

Mr. Gray cleared his throat and did his best to hide his discomfort. "Ladies, I must say I'm shocked by the report I received from Mr. Knightley."

"What was your report Mr. Gray?" Nicole interrupted suddenly. "I'm curious, what exactly transpired in his art class according to your 'report'?"

"Ms. Ryder, I was hoping you could tell me, from your perspective, how this whole ordeal happened."

Nicole was unfazed by his supposed position of authority. "No, no, sir. I'm curious what your 'report' of the 'ordeal' says." Nicole punctuated mockingly with air quotes, which annoyed Mr. Gray.

"Nicole," Mr. Gray said sternly. "I am asking you politely to tell me what happened in Mr. Knightley's art class."

"He sat behind his desk while we painted," Nicole explained. "He also occasionally offered his aid to each of us on our final projects. When appropriate, he also addressed the class as a whole regarding information pertinent to our art education."

Mr. Gray was doing his best to hide his frustration, but had some difficulty. "Nicole, I would like you to describe the circumstances of your altercation with Ms. Landry."

"Sir, are you implying that if there were some altercation between Caitlin and I that we are incapable of resolving it ourselves?"

"Ms. Landry?" He turned to Caitlin, anxious to escape the escalating showdown with Nicole. "Now that you're done eating perhaps you can shed some light on this whole ordeal."

Caitlin seemed equally unwilling to offer her input, and had zoned out the entire conversation to this point. She was clearly distracted by something which Mr. Gray was having a hard time putting his finger on. While he wanted to press his questioning of her further, he was becoming slightly distracted by her attempts at folding her arms, as Caitlin was having some difficulty maneuvering her arms adequately around her breasts.

"Ms. Landry!" Principal Gray spoke up.

"What?" Caitlin looked up with an odd mix of shock and annoyance. For a moment they just stared at one another. Mr. Gray was struck by something odd. He could have sworn that only moments ago she had a scratch on her left cheek, but now there appeared to be nothing more than a slightly reddened area below her cheekbone. If it wasn't for the tousled hair, he would have a hard time believing that the fight was nearly as physical as he had initially assessed.

"Could you please provide your side of the story regarding your altercation with Ms. Ryder," he asked, politely, trying to gain some control over the situation.

"Um…" Caitlin began. As opposed to Nicole, she genuinely seemed to be having difficulty recalling anything. Nicole sighed exasperatedly and made a show of looking as bored as possible. Caitlin shifted in her chair and rubbed her head. "I'm sorry. Just give me a sec." Nicole rolled her eyes as Caitlin wiped a thin layer of perspiration from her forehead.

"Take your time Caitlin. I just want to…"

"Mr. Gray, honestly, why the fuck are we here?" Nicole chimed in. "We've been having this little conversation for a few minutes now and I'm curious why our valuable finals week time is being spent in your office."

Principal Gray intended to address Nicole's inappropriate language for an educational environment, but he was still distracted by Caitlin, whose apparent discomfort was growing more and more obvious. She had discarded her sandals and gripped the arms of the chair so tightly that her knuckles were white. She grunted softly, arched her back, and dropped her her mouth open in an expression of either shock or pain, though he couldn't quite tell which. He wanted to say something, but his eyes were drawn to her breasts which jutted forward due to her posture and the tightness of her shirt. Nicole, in the meantime, continued her rant.

"…and for some reason, there's this presumption on the part of teachers around here that young women aren't capable of working out their own personal matters without the interference of supposed 'authority figures' who, in all honesty, have little to no comprehension of the concerns of today's youth."

Nicole ranted in the background as Principal Gray remained transfixed on Caitlin, who had yet to make a sound but was clearly having some kind of problem. He tried to recall any uniquely female problems that she could be having at the moment and considered possibly calling the nurse. He had nearly resolved reach for the phone, when something completely unusual happened.

Caitlin's eyes opened wide and she shuddered, still leaning forward, as if a powerful chill were running through her body. The sounds of straining fabric became audible (even over the sound of Nicole's unabated sermon) as Mr. Gray noticed the "Abercrombie" text on her shirt shift subtly, albeit visibly, as if—he couldn't believe what he was thinking—she were outgrowing her clothes right in front of his eyes. He couldn't tell if she was in pain or not since her hair obscured his full view of her face. The small wrinkles disappeared as her thighs seemed to be filling in any remaining space in her jeans, and with every heaving breath her clothes shifted around her tense body. With one final convulsive exhale, the button of her pants softly sprang loose. Principal Gray 's eyes boggled with shock and disbelief.

"Indeed!" Nicole was shouting now, wild eyed and nearly standing. "Yes! I am accusing you of sexism sir! Don't look so surprised. I know your type!"

The feeling having seemingly passed, Caitlin abruptly sat back in her chair, her labored breathing setting her now more substantial chest into motion. Principal Gray felt as if she were visibly bigger, no, taller than she was even a minute ago. He searched for signs that it was all in his head but as she sat up, he saw that her pants, formerly a bit loose around the hips, now tautly gripped her thighs. The bottom hem of her shirt had crept up slightly, and combined with the apparent enlargement of her breasts, now rose away from her skin with every rapid intake of breath. Her shirt, which had been slightly undersized before, now constricted her torso so tightly that fabric bunched under her arms and the outline of her now too-small bra could be seen through her shirt. Principal Gray was mesmerized and Nicole chose to capitalize on this moment.

"Mr. Gray? With all due respect, I'm over here not on Caitlin's chest."

Shocked back into reality, he looked up at both girls, embarrassed, perplexed, and a bit frightened. His mouth hung open, but he couldn't form a coherent thought, let alone sentence, if he tried. Nicole grew impatient with his silence, and Caitlin appeared to be momentarily confused, as if still completely oblivious to all that had happened. Mr. Gray had gone pale, and he rose from his seat to excuse himself.

"Thank you ladies," he said, standing but not making eye contact either of them. "I have need…to…bathroom. Then home. Class…tomorrow." His leg collided with the corner of his desk but he didn't seem to notice.

"What?" both girls replied, confused.

"You're excused," he said, not looking back as he shuffled like a zombie out of his office. They could hear the secretary try to get his attention.

"Mr. Gray. You have a message from…Mr. Gray? Sir?

"Tomorrow Stacy," he said to her abruptly, as he left the officek, heading home uncharacteristically early.

The secretary watched the office door shut, then looked into Principal Gray's office where both girls still sat opposite his desk. There was a pause, before Nicole spoke up.

"Can we go now?"