Karyn paused as she passed a mirror in the locker room, the breath hitching in her throat. The reflection staring back wasn't the girl who had left the house this morning. Her hair, which had been a sensible bob, now tumbled past her shoulders in messy, bedroom waves. Her skin, usually dotted with mild stress acne, was porcelain smooth , and her lips looked poutier, swollen and bitten-red as if she’d just been kissed. Even her eyes seemed different, wider and the dull green was brighter, framed by long lashes she had never had.
Removing her clothes was a clumsy battle. Her center of gravity was completely off. As she pulled her jeans down, she stumbled, her hip checking hard against the metal bench. She gasped, expecting the sharp pain of bone on metal, but felt a cushioned bounce instead; her hips had flared out significantly, wider and softer than they had ever been.
"Get a grip," she whispered, her hands shaking as she reached for her gym bag.
She pulled out her uniform, relieved to see it hadn't morphed like her street clothes. It was still the standard-issue, shapeless grey t-shirt and baggy navy mesh shorts. But as she stepped into the shorts, relief turned to panic. They were the same size medium she’d worn all year, but they refused to slide up her legs with their usual ease. They snagged mid-thigh. Karyn had to bite her lip and shimmy, forcing the waistband over hips that had flared out significantly wider and softer than they had been an hour ago. When she finally got them up, the "baggy" shorts clung tight to her rear, riding up uncomfortably.
The shirt was no better. As she pulled it over her head, it caught on her chest. She tugged it down, but instead of hanging loosely over her frame, the cotton stretched taut across her new C-cups, outlining her sports bra perfectly.
"I can't wear this," she muttered, tugging futilely at the hem to try and hide her curves. "I look like a..."
"Slut!"
The word cut through the humid air, clear and sneering.
Karyn spun around, clutching the hem of her shirt. "Excuse me?" she snapped, adrenaline spiking.
She scanned the room. Two girls were chatting by the showers; another was tying her shoes. No one was looking at her. The room continued its chaotic rhythm, completely indifferent. Karyn turned back to the locker, her heart hammering. She could have sworn she heard it, but maybe she was hearing things.
She paused by the mirror on her way out and appreciated herself in the mirror, the hint of stomach exposed by the tented t-shirt the way that the shorts rode higher on her thinner waist and how they stretched over an ass that could almost be called a bubble butt, which pulled her shorts even higher making them almost as short as some of those short-shorts the other girls wore for gym.
She smiled, feeling a wave of pride at herself as she adjusted a strand of wavy hair that had fallen in her eyes. She pushed her chest out and cocked her hip waved at her reflection and then broke down in giggles at herself.
A pair of girls walked by whispering to each other.
"...Karyn..."
"...such a slut..."
It all hit her all at once, what she had been doing, the girl's remarks. She ran to the nearest stall to throw up.
