Three weeks went by and, mercifully, my sister didn’t grow any taller. This was still small comfort, though, as those two inches she now had in advantage over me seemed more apparent every day. I’d always been six inches higher than my sister, but even that gap felt paltry compared to this new gulf.

            Some days, she wouldn’t even speak to me, whether at the dinner table or on the couch watching TV; she’d just stalk by, with her head held high, and generally wearing a pair of undersized shorts or denim cut-offs, displaying her sun-kissed thighs and rounded calves for all the see, not to mention the serious junk in her trunk. I was disgusted at these observations of mine, but I couldn’t help it when she was parading with the deliberate intention to haunt me by the sight of those pillared limbs.

            I was again doubly disgusted when she’d leave the room and, a minute later, I’d noticed she’d dropped a fart on her way out like a hit and run. The unfriendly smell was never so pungent as that day when she’d ripped one three inches away from my face, but it was present, and more of a symbol than anything that Mia was beginning to view me as easy prey, like a little kid on the playground with lunch money ready to be stolen.

            This tension was driven yet higher when one day, to my awe, Mia emerged into the breakfast nook, yawning as she stretched her wide wingspan. My sister stood at no less than six feet and four inches tall.

            “Holy shit,” I couldn’t help but mutter.

            “Wow, honey,” our mom gawked.

            “You’ve… certainly been taking even more of those vitamins, dear,” our dad said, standing up. He looked his daughter up and down, who was taller even than him by a good margin. I could see now some of the same concern I felt on that first morning was shared between our parents. This could no longer be explained by a mere adolescent growth spurt. “Maybe we ought to stop by the doctor’s this week, just to get you checked out. Make sure it’s nothing… glandular, or-”

            “I feel fine, Daddy. Relax,” Mia laughed. She placed her hand on his shoulder, and with a soft push, encouraged him forcibly back into his kitchen chair. For good measure, she tousled his hair, then leaned down and planted a wet kiss on his cheek like a doting mother. “In fact, I’ve never felt better. What’s for breakfast?”

            Mia hopped into her chair and piled two helpings of eggs, bacon, and potatoes upon her plate. My sister has always had a healthy appetite, seemingly putting on no poundage except athletic muscle, but even this was a bit much. Maybe the volume of hearty foods she put down was partly to blame for her skyrocketing height? As she aggressively shoveled the breakfast goodies into her cheeks, swallowing and gulping in another mouthful just as quickly, I imagined it was. I also cringingly recalled the usual effects of Mia filling her toned belly with greasy grub. She seemed to remember it too, flashing me a smug grin across the table between bites; almost like my gigantic sibling was building up ammunition. Hopefully she’d be off to school soon, and free to dispense all the gassy fruits of her labors there.

            Remembering Mia’s last growth spurt, I locked my bedroom door while getting ready for the day. When I turned the knob to exit, however, I found the way blocked by Mia’s six-foot-four frame. For the first time, I caught a comparative glimpse of her staggering size: a full eight inches taller than me. The top of my head scarcely reached her chin. To boot, the rest of her form had swelled in alluring proportion to her stature. Her breasts, once modest little lumps she got teased for during middle school, had inflated to at least D-cups. Most noticeable was my sister’s rump, though, muscled and jiggling softly with every step driven by those powerful pillared legs. And currently, this domestic amazon had made a blockade of herself. I felt instantly and sickening vulnerable, and all Mia was doing was waiting outside my door.

            “You look nervous, little brother,” she cooed. “Was it something I said?”

            “No.”

            “Maybe something I ate?” she continued sardonically, twirling a dark lock of hair in her fingers. “I’m a growing girl, you know, with lots of physical demands, if we’re going to make it to the championship this year. I have to keep my strength up.”

            “Yeah, I know.”

            “So why the long face?” she asked, then cracked a smile again. “Actually, I take that back. Your face isn’t especially long. In fact, none of you is very long at all. I mean, if I passed you on the street, I might almost mistake you for some elementary kid, waiting for puberty to kick in.”

            “I have to go,” I droned.

            “Why such a rush?” she simpered. “Stick around a while.” Her hands, previously fussing with her ever-present black ponytail, descended; her palms clapped over my shoulders, and given the length of those slender fingers, she was probably nearly capable of picking me off the ground by the scruff. I could feel now why Dad was so easily shoved back in his chair. There was great strength behind these hands, and now belonging to a young woman nearly a foot taller than me, it was made clear she could do some minor manhandling if she wished.

            “Because I have work.”

            “Work, work, work. All you care about is money since you got out of college. Wouldn’t it be more rewarding to do something nice, like for your family? Say, maybe for me?”

            I didn’t like where this was going. “What?”

            “I’m going to need your help with something after practice today. Nothing terrible.”

            I doubted that. “What if I don’t want to?”

            “Then I’ll persuade again, just like I did before. Trust me, you’re going to be helping me one way or another. Cancel any plans, if you made them. I’ll need you for at least a couple hours. Thanks, Hal.” With that, Mia’s fingers combed through my hair, patted my cheek, and then she sauntered off down the stairs. A lump in my throat, I watched my lanky sister descend the steps, her black ponytail bobbing merrily as she went, those tanned limbs propelling her in march formation. She must’ve had half the guys at school wrapped around her little finger.

            In the evening after work, I barricaded myself in my bedroom, hoping maybe Mia would take the hint and forgo whatever purpose she’d envisioned for me. I know now that was a foolish hope. The house was empty, at least I thought, until knuckles rapped at my door multiple times, not going away after I tried ignoring.

            “Open up, bro,” Mia boomed. “I know you’re in there, and a promise is a promise. I need your help.”