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Chapter One
Claire barely heard Julie's car over the heavy rain, but she recognized the roar of her roommate's mid-90s sedan immediately. Claire had settled into her Friday-night routine of lavender tea and a romance novel while her cat, Toby, retreated to the windowless bedroom, settling on a pile of dirty laundry. She had expected her roommate home several hours ago but figured Julie had a good reason for being late.

As if on cue, Julie opened the door, briefly letting in a taste of the vicious weather outside. She took a moment to shake out her jacket outside before stepping in with her purse and a Styrofoam container in hand. Claire took in the wafting smell of food but held back from seeming too eager about it.

"How was the interview?" Claire asked, not looking up from her book.

"An interview," Julie replied, hanging her raincoat in the closet. "The boss is a creep. Harmless, but a creep."

"What's it lookin' like?"

"I think I sold it. I saw the other girls. Some have got the goods, and some were even cute, in that low-self esteem kind of way."

"Spring-break-girls-gone-wild low-self esteem?"

"Fortunately not. Shrinking violets, actually. I don't even know why they'd even want to work there. I don't know if they do either. Hell, I barely want to."

Claire sipped her tea and smiled. "They probably think that the lecherous eyes of male patrons will give them a confidence boost."

"Yeah. Speaking of boosts, I need to get out of this miracle of miracles. My boobs are starting to protest." Julie reached under her painted-on tee, unclasped the bra from the front, and tossed it in the general direction of a stack of clothes in the bathroom. This startled Toby but didn't rouse him to move. Julie shook out her hair and stretched her long, thin frame toward the ceiling. With soft features and modest curves, Julie could see herself modeling in a twisted world. That said, she could also see herself stripping, playing roller derby, or bounty hunting.

"On the plus side, they offered me a free meal. I'd rather eat a live scorpion, but I figured you wouldn't turn it down" She set the Styrofoam container on the table. "Hope you like big slabs of meat with deep fried cheese on the side."

Claire perked up at the mention of a free meal, particularly a burger. "You know, you might not have hated the cheese sticks."

"I'll pass on their 'cheese' and their 'meat,' thank you," she replied, punctuating with air quotes.

"Yes, and I'm sure the burgers are to die for," Claire said, sniffing the takeout box.

"Beggars can't be choosers, my dear."

Claire needed no additional prompting and popped open the box. She wasn't a fan of cooking and preferred her meals presented to her rather than prepared by her. Fortunately, Julie was more often than not willing to cook. It was one of many ways the two girls conveniently complemented each other. Julie needed the support after dropping out of Stanford and Claire needed the stability after moving 800 miles across the country to Northshore to escape a messy engagement that hadn't exactly worked out.

"This burger sucks," Claire said, her mouth full.

"And with the what-did-you-expect award..." Julie said, grinning at her roommate who was fishing for a pickle dropped down her shirt. "Anyways, the way you're attacking that thing, I don't think you're being too picky. You'd better take it easy on the burgers, babe. From the looks of that shirt you've been putting on weight."

Claire pulled down on the tee that was giving a hint of exposed belly. "Hey! That's a cheap shot, even for you. Are you calling me fat?"

"I'm just pointing out that it can't always go straight to your tits. On that note, I can't help but acknowledge the irony that I'm the one applying to Hooters."

Claire rolled her eyes. "I've got a job, and I don't need to flaunt my talents to do it." Claire had a habit of downplaying her textbook one-two punch of natural platinum blonde hair and crystal blue eyes if anything to avoid the blonde bimbo stigma. Not helping matters were her double Ds and flaring hips. While she had plenty to show off, Claire rarely flaunted her curves, opting instead to merely dress them appropriately. While there was no jealousy between the girls, Julie's tall, willowy frame, and Claire's petite voluptuousness gave each of them plenty of ammunition for playful teasing.

"Whatever," Julie said, peeling herself out of the clingy top as she headed to her room. "I gotta' change clothes. I'm starting to feel sleazy."

Claire dropped the last of the burger into her mouth, before patting her chest and burping softly. "Ugh, that's not going to sit well. it's almost enough to make me not want to eat out ever again."

"That's what she said," Julie yelled from the adjacent room. She switched to a baggy shirt at least six sizes larger than the one she'd just escaped from and returned in time to see her petite roommate stuffing her face with French fries. "Geez, someone's got an appetite. You ate today?"

"Yeah," Claire replied between bites. "I actually already had dinner." Julie was grabbing a beer from the fridge and she turned to her roommate and raised an eyebrow. Claire raised a bottle of pills in her hands and rattled it loudly. "One, twice a day after meals. It's some kind of nutritional supplement for the anemic and malnourished vegetarian freaks like you."

"...but not like you.

"If I'm going to make two grand, it certainly is me now."

Julie whistled, twisting the top off her beer. "That's a lot of money to pop pills. You sure you know what you're in for? I've never heard of nutritional supplements making you eat like a pig."

"I try to ignore the side effects list. It makes me paranoid."

"I'd worry less about being paranoid, Claire, and more about putting on a dozen pounds, but whatever. Hell, if I had less dignity, perhaps I'd be willing to pop pills and sit on my ass all day."

"Hey, I checked into the lab at least three times already this week. I've also got to head to the post office to mail that Jade necklace I just sold for a cool $450."

Lauren rolled her eyes. "First of all, nailing that sexy grad student at the clinic hardly counts as "checking into the lab." Second, you make twelve grand a year on being a lab rat and selling gifts from your booty calls on eBay. I'm sure your parents are proud."

"You make me sound like the prostitute from lab 16. I date men who happen to be very giving, and I do my part to help further the cause of public health. Besides, I made eight grand doing the same thing last year. That's a 50% raise."

"Claire, you can't do this forever."

"My twin brother's on a full ride fellowship at an architectural design school in Italy. It's up to me to maintain the balance of ambition," Claire said, wiping ketchup from her mouth. "Besides, I pay my rent every month and I haven't once asked my parents for money."

Julie plopped down onto the couch next to her roommate, opening her laptop and settling into her nightly social media routine. "I'm just saying, you've got to have bigger aspirations for your life."

"I'm twenty-three. I'm healthy and in no hurry. Besides, I've got valuable reading to do."

Julie curiously evaluated her roommate for a moment and smiled. "Fine. Whatever. It's not like I can throw stones. I dropped out of an honors program for no discernible reason, and now I'm applying to be a Hooter's waitress. To most people, that's textbook failure."

"Any regrets?"

Julie briefly seemed to consider the question before taking a big swig of her beer and plucking one of the remaining fries from her roommate's take-out container. "Nope."

---Two Days Earlier---

"No, no, no, no. Absolutely not."

"Please, Seth. I need this!"

"You don't need this, Claire."

This argument had been going on for almost an hour, and Seth, despite having his girlfriend wrapped around his body and planting kisses on his neck, was showing little signs of budging.

"I've got rent to pay, Seth, and if you haven't noticed, I'm unemployed."

"You're hardly unemployed. You aren't working, and that's not the same thing."

Claire sat back on her side of the futon. "Don't act like I'm some freeloading whore. These trials are my job, Seth, and I appreciate your help getting me involved. This one is the best one yet. Two thousand dollars!"

"The sheer amount should tell you how serious of shit we're dealing with, Claire. You've gotten what, $200 bucks for the last one? $150 before that? You think we're paying people two grand just to fuck around?"

"Seth, I need this money!"

"Claire, I'm not saying you couldn't use the money. Heck, I could use the money. Look at my place!" He gestured around at his dismal, under-furnished, studio apartment. His graduate research assistantship only paid for the bare minimum of amenities, and he didn't have time for a part-time job. "The fact of the matter is that you don't fit the description of the study. We need people who've suffered from anemia due to medically restricted diets."

Claire's eyes brightened. "I have suffered from anemia! You can look at my medical records!"

"Yes, because you don't eat right, not because you can't."

"What's the difference? You need people for this study, don't you?"

"Claire, you medically don't fit the bill. You're five years out of the age range, and we need people on a strictly meatless diet. Even if you started tomorrow, you'd still have it in your system. Hell, you probably still have some of the crap from the last four studies in your system. The results we'd get from you would be questionable at best."

Claire sat quietly for a moment, before offering, "I don't need all the money, you know. I could give you half."

"Wait, what?"

"I'd give you half of the cash. A thousand bucks would pay my share of the rent for the next three months. Don't tell me you couldn't use it for, oh, a pair of tires for your car? Food that doesn't come in a can? "

Seth thought about his incapacitated 1993 Chevy in the parking lot, as well as his steady diet of beans, rice, and canned vegetables. When he'd been essentially living on four hundred dollars a month, a thousand dollars would be a godsend. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

"I know you need it. I know I need it. It's just not worth the risk. The answer is no."

- - - - - -

"Okay, you have to promise to stay off any and all animal products, and you'll have to drink this diuretic supplement for until Thursday to clear your system. I think I can pass you for eighteen if you...can I have my shirt?"

Claire smiled and fished his shirt from the side of the bed. "This means a lot to me, Seth," she said, letting the bed sheet covering her body fall away. "Whatever you need me to do."

Seth let his eyes ride her roller coaster of curves and let a small grin appear. "I guess there's no harm done, we do need more volunteers." His grin started to fade as he thought more about his predicament. "God, Claire. If you mess up the experiment the department could lose grant money, I could lose my scholarship, hell, I'll get exp..."

"Shh," Claire said, getting up and placing a finger on his lips, before letting her hands travel to the back of his neck, then lower. "Seth, you can trust me. You're really doing me a huge favor," Claire pressed herself against him and whispered in his ear, "...and I won't mess this up for you."

Seth bit his lip, silently kicking himself for his inability to resist the girl wrapped around him. There was no way he wouldn't regret this, he had nearly worked up the nerve to argue again, but as he felt his shirt drop away from his body and onto the floor, his concerns with the situation seemed to melt away as he blissfully floated back onto the bed.

Chapter Two
Sleep. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep.

It was all Claire wanted and the last thing she was getting. Jitters kept her from lying still longer than a minute at a time. There's a certain point when you've been up half the night where just giving up on sleep just seems like the more attractive option to sticking out the battle and losing. Of course, feeling as shitty as she did, there was no attractive option. She couldn't tell if she was hungry, full, both, or neither.

The burger. It had to be the burger.

This was all the more frustrating since she'd done everything Seth had instructed her to do. She'd taken the damned diuretics that made her spend more time on the toilet for the last 48 hours than she even wanted to think about. She'd even started out pretty well, eating almost entirely veggies, and peanut butter sandwiches for the last two days. Regardless, she knew she wouldn't last. Not only did she have almost no willpower or self-restraint, it was too soon. Meat was still in her system—still in her head. Claire hadn't told Julie about the real restrictions of her diet, perhaps in a type of subconscious sabotage. Either way, she was doomed from the get go.

I wonder if Phil feels as bad as I do right now?

---One Day Earlier---

Claire scanned the room for familiar faces but found none. She had made a few acquaintances in the lab rat circle, but none of those she knew had the connections to worm their way into this particular study. Not seeing anyone she knew, she opted to take a seat next to a pasty, dark-haired guy who appeared to be about eighteen and—despite being moderately tall—probably about her weight. The young man's posture stiffened a bit when she sat down, but he also smiled awkwardly which let her know her presence was welcome.

In fact, to Phil Rehdenger, Claire's presence was much more than welcome. It was what Phil had been hoping for from the moment he saw her waiting outside the clinic when they had been the first two to arrive. Claire had been on her phone. Not wanting to seem intrusive, Phil retreated to his car, only to find himself fighting the urge to ogle her like a stalker. Now, she was sitting down next to him and he was struggling to work up the courage to ask her name. Unfortunately, just as he opened his mouth to greet her, a clinician spoke up.

"On behalf of Northshore Health and Science Clinic, we would like to thank you for participating in this study. This supplement is designed to maintain a proper nutrient level for those with extreme food allergies as well as those who maintain medically restricted diets. Specifically, this treatment is intended for strict vegans and it is of the utmost importance that all of those involved have diets entirely devoid of meat and animal byproducts."

As much as Phil wanted to be a part of this study, he had to consciously fight the urge to bolt from the room. It was his first medical trial and the whole idea of putting untested drugs (untested on humans, anyways) in his body was unsettling. In fact, he'd barely gotten any sleep the night before, imagining all types of wild scenarios, all of which basically ended in his death. In fact, the more he heard about the procedure, the more nervous he got, and he fought to keep the cup of water in his hand from trembling.

"...your brain regulates various involuntary processes. Some, like breathing, you can consciously disrupt and others, like your heartbeat, you can't. This treatment essentially reprograms your chemical regulatory system through a combination of hypnosis, vitamin supplements, and electronic modification of the brain waves. Our program has already successfully treated a number of diabetic patients by effectively re-programming their biochemistry to properly produce insulin."

In spite of his fear, Phil knew this treatment could change his life. A lifelong celiac, in his teens he developed lactose intolerance which eventually gave way to a kidney and digestive disorder that led to him eliminating meat, soy, peanuts, and MSG. While he'd learned to live on his diet of fruits, vegetables, and vitamin supplements, he still had difficulties with anemia and his doctor had pointed to this study as an opportunity to both improve his nutrient intake and get back on some of the foods he missed from childhood.

"...this focus group allows us to test the procedure's application in handling the body's nutrient intake. We're beginning with strictly vegetarian and vegan diets. Without going into too many details, meat brings in too many variables that we aren't quite ready to handle yet."

Phil tried to stay focused, but he couldn't keep his mind off of the blonde seated next to him. Where he could barely pry his eyes away from her, she only barely acknowledged him. He badly wanted to speak up and introduce himself, but he couldn't bring himself to speak. He told himself that he didn't want to interrupt the speaker, but in actuality, he was painfully shy. This shyness was reinforced by years of feeling like an outsider with weird medical issues. The blonde's low cut shirt certainly wasn't helping either, and his eyes couldn't help but continue to drift downward to her flaring hips and toned legs in form-fitting pants.

"...as always, please be advised," Phil watched the girl subtly mouth along with the warning that she seemed to have committed to memory. "While all precautions have been taken to ensure the safety of all participants, this is a medical trial. Northshore Health and Science Clinic will not be held responsible for any undesired permanent side effects." Phil looked down at the paperwork in front of him and signed the papers quickly while he still had his resolve.

"I'll give you all a five-minute break while we prep the first treatment," the lead clinician announced, wrapping up. "Feel free to help yourself to the fresh organic fruit and vegetables, and talk to one of the lab assistants if you have any questions. "We'll then begin calling you alphabetically, by last name."

Phil figured he had at least a half hour before getting called, but he couldn't guess about the girl. With his luck, her last name would be "Aardvark." Still riding the confidence high from having the courage to sign the paperwork, he shuffled a seat closer to the girl, who didn't look up. He was at a loss for good pick up lines, but the worst she could do is blow him off.

"Hi...um...what's up?"

She looked at him, her expression soft and her blue eyes bright. "Just lookin' for some drugs, you?"

Phil grinned, "Ditto."

There was a pause, and Phil was determined not to let the air out of the moment. "I'm Phil," he said, extending his hand.

"Claire." She lightly shook his hand and Phil was momentarily distracted by the v-neck tremors set in motion by their handshake. His mind searched for a conversation topic.

"I have a bone condition," he said suddenly. There was another pause, and Claire looked slightly amused. "I...I mean I haven't had a lot of food options with my bone condition. If this works out, it could be really good for me."

"That's great!" Claire chimed with genuine sincerity, "you must be really excited."

"I dunno, I feel like I lost my faith in Western medicine years ago."

"Aw, hey. I know people who've done some trials here and the results have been good." Claire was really referring more to herself, as she herself had been a part of several medical successes through her participation in NHSC drug trials. At the same time, she also knew of a fair number of misfires, one of which had left her with a rash on her neck that, fortunately, had healed into what appeared to be a large birthmark. Phil didn't need to know about that, though.

"My friend works for the clinic and invited me into this study, how'd you hear about it?"

"My doctor," Phil said, feeling comfortable opening up about his medical history. Claire's light-heartedness was putting Phil at ease, which was good, given his lifelong struggles with the opposite sex. Brittle bones and clammy skin weren't much of a chick magnet. This girl was certainly pale and lean, but hardly—he tried not to let his eyes drift downward—unhealthy.

"What do you do for a living, Phil?"

"I'm working on my AA degree over at NCC. I'm hoping to transfer to the Computer Science program at Stenson University, you?"

"Waitress," Claire replied.

"Really? That's cool, I guess. Where do you waitress?"

Claire grinned and rolled her eyes. "Hooters, on 72nd Ave."

Phil immediately choked on his water, and Claire giggled. She had immediately picked up on Phil's awkwardness, and a little devil inside her felt the need to toy with him a bit. "Um, that's…um…" Phil continued to search for words but only stammered.

Claire touched his arm. "Phil, I'm kidding." Phil still looked uncomfortable, so Claire decided to bear the burden of embarrassment for awhile. "Ok, I'm not entirely kidding. I worked at Denny's for a few months last year. Without spilling too much, let's just say it was an unpleasant experience."

"Well that's good," Phil said, still recovering. Claire raised an eyebrow, and Phil's eyes went wide. "No! Wait! That's not what I meant. I didn't mean that I'm glad you had a bad time, I meant that I'm glad you uh…don't…"

Claire held a hand up, stopping him. "I learned a lot about myself, and I learned that there are some things that really aren't worth shit money, no matter how well some people may tip you." Phil still looked uncomfortable, so Claire decided to bridge back to familiar territory. "I did meet some nice people, though. My roommate started and quit around the same time I did. She actually just turned in her application to Hooters today. I also met the friend that recommended this study to me when he dropped in for a Grand Slam breakfast. I've been unemployed since I quit that hellhole, so between my chronic iron and cash deficiencies, this study is right up my alley."

"Claire Albertson," a clinician in the corner announced, "please come to room two." Claire tossed her book in her bag and stood to leave. Compact and curvy—no taller than 5'2" at the most—Phil caught himself letting his eyes widen at her profile. Claire noticed but didn't seem to mind.

"Well, it was nice to meet you, Phil." Claire sauntered away, leaving Phil to admire the way she poured into a pair of yoga pants. "I'll see you again soon!"

"Yeah, um, thanks," Phil said, watching her exit. When she was entirely out of sight, he whistled softly to himself and headed over to help himself to the fruit trays.

Chapter Three
I wonder if Phil feels as bad as I do right now?

Claire couldn't imagine so. Unlike herself, Phil actually fit the bill for the study. The memories of Phil and yesterday's treatment faded as her head detonated into a splitting headache. She squirmed about on the bed, clutching her stomach and hoping, no, praying that she would either vomit or lose consciousness soon. Panic set in.

Oh God, I'm going to die. No, I won't die. Even worse, I'm going to have to call 911, and they're going to put me in a hospital, and I'll have to tell them what happened, and Sean will get expelled, and I'll get charged a billion dollars because I don't have fucking health insurance.

Claire wanted to yell for Julie. She wanted to grab her phone and call the police. She wanted to douse herself in ice water. She wanted to retch her body dry. She wanted to do any number of things except writhe in agony on the bed, but unfortunately, that's all she could do. The room felt miles away, yet she felt as if she were too big for the air around her. Her arms and legs were sluggish and heavy,

Claire was on the verge of tears when another sensation hit her like a lightning bolt. Where she had been underwater before, everything was now crystal clear. Every cell in her body and every synapse in her brain now screamed for sustenance. She had to eat—immediately.

She rocketed to her feet and scrambled to the kitchen. She felt her toe hit the corner of the wall with an impact that any other time would be crippling. At the moment, she could think of nothing more important than getting to the fridge. With her first impulse, she yanked open the fridge and grabbed a pastry she'd purchased from Starbucks. She took a few bites, which quickly became large chomps. In half a minute she'd wolfed the pastry down. Next came a cold Tupperware of cold spaghetti that she slurped down without silverware.

It was getting worse. The more she ate, the hungrier she seemed to get. First were bananas that she tried to peel but couldn't peel fast enough, so she bit into the raw fruit and swallowed it in three quick bites and one big gulp. Four bananas later came the milk jug, which she sucked on, relishing the feeling of the cool liquid flowing down her throat. A jar of applesauce was next, shaking the contents of the jar into her mouth, which was only barely big enough. She bit into a block of cheese, and several bites later it was gone as well.

While she was only half-consciously aware of what she was doing, she realized she was running short on prepared or leftover food. Without a second thought, she reached for a jar of pickles. A combination of desperation and haste, the jar slipped from her hands and shattered on the ground. Sobbing convulsively, Claire scrambled to gather the rest of them and stuff them in her mouth, even as she reached with another hand for a jar of jelly. No matter what, she couldn't get the food in her fast enough, and frustration was killing her, but not stopping her. The fridge nearly empty, Claire dragged herself to her feet and reached for the cabinets.

- - - - - -

Julie tried to ignore the tossing and turning coming from Claire's room as well as the multiple trips to the bathroom over the past few days. As much as she wanted to say something, she had a standing agreement with her roommate. One rule, Julie. No matter, what don't judge me. If I need your help, I'll ask for it. Otherwise, don't even offer.

She turned over and looked at the clock, catching it just as it read 2:00 AM on the dot. After the mind-numbing interview and the sleazy date, she really just wanted to sleep. She wasn't in the mood for this.

While she respected her roommate's lifestyle, she also cared about her well-being, and the sounds in the kitchen were almost too much to bear. She Julie's groans had become whimpers, and eventually full sobs, followed by the unmistakable sound of dishes dropping to the floor. She hadn't said anything when Claire had broken out into the nastiest rash she'd seen in her life, and she'd stayed quiet when Claire puked her way through a motion-sickness remedy study. Hearing Claire's moaning and wailing in the kitchen, however, was too much. Julie rocketed out of bed and nearly pulled her bedroom door off its hinges. The lights in the apartment were off, and only the soft light of the refrigerator lit the kitchen.

Claire was sobbing hysterically on the kitchen floor, next to the wide open kitchen door. The fridge was nearly cleaned out, its contents either consumed or emptied onto the ground, contributing to the casserole of items strewn about. Claire had obviously sampled nearly everything in the fridge, and from the looks of it, the cabinets too. Everything from milk cartons and Tupperware containers, to margarine tubs and what was left of a pickle jar, was strewn about with hardly a trace of edible food left.

"Claire? Sweetie? You okay?" Julie asked, slowly approaching her. Claire was still sobbing loudly, curled on the floor. Julie could hear Claire protesting softly at Julie's presence, but it was mostly unintelligible. Julie stopped approaching and calmly urged Claire to turn over. Claire seemed to protest initially, but eventually, she rolled all the way over in the direction of her roommate.

What Julie saw made her take a step back.

Claire was paler than usual and her eyes were bloodshot. Her shirt was decorated in stains and wet with perspiration, but Julie barely noticed any of these things as she was drawn to Claire's swollen belly which protruded from under her shirt like a second term pregnancy.

"Shit! Jeez! Claire. What the hell happened?" Julie wasn't sure what to do or say. Claire, who had shown few signs of telepathy up to this point, slowly let a chilling grin creep across her face. Against her mind's impulse—which was screaming for her to run—Julie began approaching Claire, being careful to avoid broken glass.

"I'm so hungry, Jules." Claire had stopped sobbing, and while she was no longer hysterical, her voice seemed to come from another world.

"Claire," Julie said, crouching down beside her, unable to pry her eyes away from her friend, "I think you need help."

"Nooooo," Claire purred. "I'm just hungry."

"Claire," Julie reached for her phone, "I'm going to call the…"

"NO!" Claire lashed out and grabbed Julie by the collar with a force so sudden it jerked her over, twinging her back. Julie yelped loudly, but Claire maintained her grip, like a vice holding her firmly in place. Claire's strength was almost inhuman, and this wasn't helping Julie keep her cool. She placed her hand over Claire's and tried to persuade Claire to loosen her grip.

"Don't call anyone, Jules. Nobody." Claire's voice was soft but firm.

"I won't Claire, but please let go of me."

"What do you need, Claire?"

"Take me to bed, Jules. I want to sleep."

Julie paused and took in the scene in the kitchen and the sight of her friend who seemed to hover near consciousness. She was no medic, but Claire seemed to be calmer. The sight of the bloated belly was nearly making Julie sick, but she gave in.

"Okay, Claire. I'll help you get to bed, but I'll check on you first thing in the morning."

Claire smiled softly, almost euphoric. Her right hand rubbed her exposed belly. "Yay!" Julie pulled her near dead-weight friend to her feet and began the arduous task of dragging Claire to her bed.

- - - - - - -

The next morning, Julie felt hung over.

By the time she'd dragged Claire to her own room and dumped her on the bed, it was 2:45 AM. She had set outside Claire's room for a bit, but all she heard was tossing and turning sprinkled with light giggles until snoring set in around 3:30. Once she got back to her room she lay and watch the minutes tick by, reaching around 5:30 before her body began to finally wind down from the adrenaline. It was now 9:17, and there was a racket coming from the bathroom. Julie clenched her teeth and pushed her dark hair out of her face, before pulling herself out of bed to check on Claire.

Part of her was thrilled to hear the sounds of her roommate up and about. On the other hand, considering the delirium she had seen Claire in, she was afraid of what she would find. Fortunately, the voice that spoke up was more familiar than the one she heard last night.

"Jules?"

"Claire? Is that you in there?"

"Um, yeah. Sort, of."

"Sort of? Are you okay?" Julie pressed her ear against the door.

"I'm not sure. I guess so?" There was a brief silence.

"God, Claire I thought you were going to die last night. I'm so glad to hear you're okay."

"Jules…"

"You are okay, aren't you Claire?"

"Julie, I don't quite know how to say this."

"You didn't puke all over the bathroom, did you."

"No, but I feel like I should."

"Did all your hair fall out or something?"

"No…"

"Well, what is it?"

There was a pause. "I'm bigger."

"Bigger?" Julie furrowed. "Well, considering the couple gallons of food you put away last night, that's not surprising."

"Not fatter, Jules. Bigger."

"Bigger?"

Claire stepped out of the bathroom and Julie felt the color wash from her face.

"Bigger."

Claire's figure had always swelled in the right places. In the undersized t-shirt and shorts, her curves bulged. A stretch tee that had been snug on her before was now struggling to contain her. Her breasts tugged the collar down and exposed the hem around her midriff. Unbuttoned jean shorts substituted for too-small undergarments, just barely covering the essentials. A red line under her bellybutton indicated that she'd tried other undersized underwear before settling on none.

"Taller, bigger. I don't know what to tell you."

Julie shut her eyes tightly and opened them again, expecting that for some reason things would change. "How, um, big are you?"

"I'm a tick under five foot five. Believe me, I've measured quite a few times."

Julie closed the distance between them until only a couple feet separated them. At five foot ten, the nearly three-inch gain for Claire was dramatic. Despite Claire being still being significantly shorter, such a dramatic gain in such a short time along with the small clothes on Claire's already full figure made the changes all the more exaggerated. Claire seemed to still be in shock, and reacting similarly to her taller roommate's new relative height to her own.

"How could this happen?" Claire said softly. "What could do this?"

Realization hit Julie like an uppercut. "Last night!"

"Last night?"

"Yes 'last night.' Your crazy eating binge. What else could it be?"

Claire seemed confused. "Eating binge? You mean, that happened?"

"What the hell, Claire? Did you forget? Last night you ate pretty much everything in the whole damned kitchen. When I found you looked like a damned alien was going to burst from you! I don't even think what you did last night should even be possible."

Claire let a few fingers brush against her exposed midriff which, if anything, bulged a little less than usual. "It's weird. I barely even remember that. Last I remember, I was laying in bed."

"You don't remember anything?"

"I guess kind of, but if anything it's like a weird dream. One I barely even remember, at that."

"God, Claire. I wish I could forget it. It was like some shit straight out of The Exorcist. It wasn't even like you. It was like you were…an animal or something." Julie looked up, surprised that Claire met her eyes. They held eye contact for a moment before Claire looked away and down.

"Don't tell anyone, Jules."

Julie's mouth fell open. "Claire, are you kidding!? You nearly died! For all we know you still might!"

Claire grabbed Julie's wrist suddenly. "Julie," she spoke slowly. "Don't…tell…anyone."

Julie saw a brief flash of the Claire from the previous night, but she wasn't sure if was real or a terrifying recollection. Claire saw the reaction and immediately softened. "Sweetie, I'm not threatening you or anything. I want to talk to Seth at the clinic first. They designed the treatment, after all."

Julie's lips tightened, and then relaxed. "Claire, just take care of yourself. This is not remotely natural and it just gives me a bad feeling." Julie took a slow breath. "I've said my peace. I'm going to trust you to take care of yourself from here on out. Just try to go easy on my nerves, okay?"

"Okay…"

"Claire." Julie's voice was almost icy. Claire looked up.

"Okay."

"Good." Julie smiled. "Now, lets get you some clothes. You look like a whore."

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Chapter One
Claire barely heard Julie's car over the heavy rain, but she recognized the roar of her roommate's mid-90s sedan immediately. Claire had settled into her Friday-night routine of lavender tea and a romance novel while her cat, Toby, retreated to the windowless bedroom, settling on a pile of dirty laundry. She had expected her roommate home several hours ago but figured Julie had a good reason for being late.

As if on cue, Julie opened the door, briefly letting in a taste of the vicious weather outside. She took a moment to shake out her jacket outside before stepping in with her purse and a Styrofoam container in hand. Claire took in the wafting smell of food but held back from seeming too eager about it.

"How was the interview?" Claire asked, not looking up from her book.

"An interview," Julie replied, hanging her raincoat in the closet. "The boss is a creep. Harmless, but a creep."

"What's it lookin' like?"

"I think I sold it. I saw the other girls. Some have got the goods, and some were even cute, in that low-self esteem kind of way."

"Spring-break-girls-gone-wild low-self esteem?"

"Fortunately not. Shrinking violets, actually. I don't even know why they'd even want to work there. I don't know if they do either. Hell, I barely want to."

Claire sipped her tea and smiled. "They probably think that the lecherous eyes of male patrons will give them a confidence boost."

"Yeah. Speaking of boosts, I need to get out of this miracle of miracles. My boobs are starting to protest." Julie reached under her painted-on tee, unclasped the bra from the front, and tossed it in the general direction of a stack of clothes in the bathroom. This startled Toby but didn't rouse him to move. Julie shook out her hair and stretched her long, thin frame toward the ceiling. With soft features and modest curves, Julie could see herself modeling in a twisted world. That said, she could also see herself stripping, playing roller derby, or bounty hunting.

"On the plus side, they offered me a free meal. I'd rather eat a live scorpion, but I figured you wouldn't turn it down" She set the Styrofoam container on the table. "Hope you like big slabs of meat with deep fried cheese on the side."

Claire perked up at the mention of a free meal, particularly a burger. "You know, you might not have hated the cheese sticks."

"I'll pass on their 'cheese' and their 'meat,' thank you," she replied, punctuating with air quotes.

"Yes, and I'm sure the burgers are to die for," Claire said, sniffing the takeout box.

"Beggars can't be choosers, my dear."

Claire needed no additional prompting and popped open the box. She wasn't a fan of cooking and preferred her meals presented to her rather than prepared by her. Fortunately, Julie was more often than not willing to cook. It was one of many ways the two girls conveniently complemented each other. Julie needed the support after dropping out of Stanford and Claire needed the stability after moving 800 miles across the country to Northshore to escape a messy engagement that hadn't exactly worked out.

"This burger sucks," Claire said, her mouth full.

"And with the what-did-you-expect award..." Julie said, grinning at her roommate who was fishing for a pickle dropped down her shirt. "Anyways, the way you're attacking that thing, I don't think you're being too picky. You'd better take it easy on the burgers, babe. From the looks of that shirt you've been putting on weight."

Claire pulled down on the tee that was giving a hint of exposed belly. "Hey! That's a cheap shot, even for you. Are you calling me fat?"

"I'm just pointing out that it can't always go straight to your tits. On that note, I can't help but acknowledge the irony that I'm the one applying to Hooters."

Claire rolled her eyes. "I've got a job, and I don't need to flaunt my talents to do it." Claire had a habit of downplaying her textbook one-two punch of natural platinum blonde hair and crystal blue eyes if anything to avoid the blonde bimbo stigma. Not helping matters were her double Ds and flaring hips. While she had plenty to show off, Claire rarely flaunted her curves, opting instead to merely dress them appropriately. While there was no jealousy between the girls, Julie's tall, willowy frame, and Claire's petite voluptuousness gave each of them plenty of ammunition for playful teasing.

"Whatever," Julie said, peeling herself out of the clingy top as she headed to her room. "I gotta' change clothes. I'm starting to feel sleazy."

Claire dropped the last of the burger into her mouth, before patting her chest and burping softly. "Ugh, that's not going to sit well. it's almost enough to make me not want to eat out ever again."

"That's what she said," Julie yelled from the adjacent room. She switched to a baggy shirt at least six sizes larger than the one she'd just escaped from and returned in time to see her petite roommate stuffing her face with French fries. "Geez, someone's got an appetite. You ate today?"

"Yeah," Claire replied between bites. "I actually already had dinner." Julie was grabbing a beer from the fridge and she turned to her roommate and raised an eyebrow. Claire raised a bottle of pills in her hands and rattled it loudly. "One, twice a day after meals. It's some kind of nutritional supplement for the anemic and malnourished vegetarian freaks like you."

"...but not like you.

"If I'm going to make two grand, it certainly is me now."

Julie whistled, twisting the top off her beer. "That's a lot of money to pop pills. You sure you know what you're in for? I've never heard of nutritional supplements making you eat like a pig."

"I try to ignore the side effects list. It makes me paranoid."

"I'd worry less about being paranoid, Claire, and more about putting on a dozen pounds, but whatever. Hell, if I had less dignity, perhaps I'd be willing to pop pills and sit on my ass all day."

"Hey, I checked into the lab at least three times already this week. I've also got to head to the post office to mail that Jade necklace I just sold for a cool $450."

Lauren rolled her eyes. "First of all, nailing that sexy grad student at the clinic hardly counts as "checking into the lab." Second, you make twelve grand a year on being a lab rat and selling gifts from your booty calls on eBay. I'm sure your parents are proud."

"You make me sound like the prostitute from lab 16. I date men who happen to be very giving, and I do my part to help further the cause of public health. Besides, I made eight grand doing the same thing last year. That's a 50% raise."

"Claire, you can't do this forever."

"My twin brother's on a full ride fellowship at an architectural design school in Italy. It's up to me to maintain the balance of ambition," Claire said, wiping ketchup from her mouth. "Besides, I pay my rent every month and I haven't once asked my parents for money."

Julie plopped down onto the couch next to her roommate, opening her laptop and settling into her nightly social media routine. "I'm just saying, you've got to have bigger aspirations for your life."

"I'm twenty-three. I'm healthy and in no hurry. Besides, I've got valuable reading to do."

Julie curiously evaluated her roommate for a moment and smiled. "Fine. Whatever. It's not like I can throw stones. I dropped out of an honors program for no discernible reason, and now I'm applying to be a Hooter's waitress. To most people, that's textbook failure."

"Any regrets?"

Julie briefly seemed to consider the question before taking a big swig of her beer and plucking one of the remaining fries from her roommate's take-out container. "Nope."

---Two Days Earlier---

"No, no, no, no. Absolutely not."

"Please, Seth. I need this!"

"You don't need this, Claire."

This argument had been going on for almost an hour, and Seth, despite having his girlfriend wrapped around his body and planting kisses on his neck, was showing little signs of budging.

"I've got rent to pay, Seth, and if you haven't noticed, I'm unemployed."

"You're hardly unemployed. You aren't working, and that's not the same thing."

Claire sat back on her side of the futon. "Don't act like I'm some freeloading whore. These trials are my job, Seth, and I appreciate your help getting me involved. This one is the best one yet. Two thousand dollars!"

"The sheer amount should tell you how serious of shit we're dealing with, Claire. You've gotten what, $200 bucks for the last one? $150 before that? You think we're paying people two grand just to fuck around?"

"Seth, I need this money!"

"Claire, I'm not saying you couldn't use the money. Heck, I could use the money. Look at my place!" He gestured around at his dismal, under-furnished, studio apartment. His graduate research assistantship only paid for the bare minimum of amenities, and he didn't have time for a part-time job. "The fact of the matter is that you don't fit the description of the study. We need people who've suffered from anemia due to medically restricted diets."

Claire's eyes brightened. "I have suffered from anemia! You can look at my medical records!"

"Yes, because you don't eat right, not because you can't."

"What's the difference? You need people for this study, don't you?"

"Claire, you medically don't fit the bill. You're five years out of the age range, and we need people on a strictly meatless diet. Even if you started tomorrow, you'd still have it in your system. Hell, you probably still have some of the crap from the last four studies in your system. The results we'd get from you would be questionable at best."

Claire sat quietly for a moment, before offering, "I don't need all the money, you know. I could give you half."

"Wait, what?"

"I'd give you half of the cash. A thousand bucks would pay my share of the rent for the next three months. Don't tell me you couldn't use it for, oh, a pair of tires for your car? Food that doesn't come in a can? "

Seth thought about his incapacitated 1993 Chevy in the parking lot, as well as his steady diet of beans, rice, and canned vegetables. When he'd been essentially living on four hundred dollars a month, a thousand dollars would be a godsend. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

"I know you need it. I know I need it. It's just not worth the risk. The answer is no."

- - - - - -

"Okay, you have to promise to stay off any and all animal products, and you'll have to drink this diuretic supplement for until Thursday to clear your system. I think I can pass you for eighteen if you...can I have my shirt?"

Claire smiled and fished his shirt from the side of the bed. "This means a lot to me, Seth," she said, letting the bed sheet covering her body fall away. "Whatever you need me to do."

Seth let his eyes ride her roller coaster of curves and let a small grin appear. "I guess there's no harm done, we do need more volunteers." His grin started to fade as he thought more about his predicament. "God, Claire. If you mess up the experiment the department could lose grant money, I could lose my scholarship, hell, I'll get exp..."

"Shh," Claire said, getting up and placing a finger on his lips, before letting her hands travel to the back of his neck, then lower. "Seth, you can trust me. You're really doing me a huge favor," Claire pressed herself against him and whispered in his ear, "...and I won't mess this up for you."

Seth bit his lip, silently kicking himself for his inability to resist the girl wrapped around him. There was no way he wouldn't regret this, he had nearly worked up the nerve to argue again, but as he felt his shirt drop away from his body and onto the floor, his concerns with the situation seemed to melt away as he blissfully floated back onto the bed.

Chapter Two
Sleep. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep.

It was all Claire wanted and the last thing she was getting. Jitters kept her from lying still longer than a minute at a time. There's a certain point when you've been up half the night where just giving up on sleep just seems like the more attractive option to sticking out the battle and losing. Of course, feeling as shitty as she did, there was no attractive option. She couldn't tell if she was hungry, full, both, or neither.

The burger. It had to be the burger.

This was all the more frustrating since she'd done everything Seth had instructed her to do. She'd taken the damned diuretics that made her spend more time on the toilet for the last 48 hours than she even wanted to think about. She'd even started out pretty well, eating almost entirely veggies, and peanut butter sandwiches for the last two days. Regardless, she knew she wouldn't last. Not only did she have almost no willpower or self-restraint, it was too soon. Meat was still in her system—still in her head. Claire hadn't told Julie about the real restrictions of her diet, perhaps in a type of subconscious sabotage. Either way, she was doomed from the get go.

I wonder if Phil feels as bad as I do right now?

---One Day Earlier---

Claire scanned the room for familiar faces but found none. She had made a few acquaintances in the lab rat circle, but none of those she knew had the connections to worm their way into this particular study. Not seeing anyone she knew, she opted to take a seat next to a pasty, dark-haired guy who appeared to be about eighteen and—despite being moderately tall—probably about her weight. The young man's posture stiffened a bit when she sat down, but he also smiled awkwardly which let her know her presence was welcome.

In fact, to Phil Rehdenger, Claire's presence was much more than welcome. It was what Phil had been hoping for from the moment he saw her waiting outside the clinic when they had been the first two to arrive. Claire had been on her phone. Not wanting to seem intrusive, Phil retreated to his car, only to find himself fighting the urge to ogle her like a stalker. Now, she was sitting down next to him and he was struggling to work up the courage to ask her name. Unfortunately, just as he opened his mouth to greet her, a clinician spoke up.

"On behalf of Northshore Health and Science Clinic, we would like to thank you for participating in this study. This supplement is designed to maintain a proper nutrient level for those with extreme food allergies as well as those who maintain medically restricted diets. Specifically, this treatment is intended for strict vegans and it is of the utmost importance that all of those involved have diets entirely devoid of meat and animal byproducts."

As much as Phil wanted to be a part of this study, he had to consciously fight the urge to bolt from the room. It was his first medical trial and the whole idea of putting untested drugs (untested on humans, anyways) in his body was unsettling. In fact, he'd barely gotten any sleep the night before, imagining all types of wild scenarios, all of which basically ended in his death. In fact, the more he heard about the procedure, the more nervous he got, and he fought to keep the cup of water in his hand from trembling.

"...your brain regulates various involuntary processes. Some, like breathing, you can consciously disrupt and others, like your heartbeat, you can't. This treatment essentially reprograms your chemical regulatory system through a combination of hypnosis, vitamin supplements, and electronic modification of the brain waves. Our program has already successfully treated a number of diabetic patients by effectively re-programming their biochemistry to properly produce insulin."

In spite of his fear, Phil knew this treatment could change his life. A lifelong celiac, in his teens he developed lactose intolerance which eventually gave way to a kidney and digestive disorder that led to him eliminating meat, soy, peanuts, and MSG. While he'd learned to live on his diet of fruits, vegetables, and vitamin supplements, he still had difficulties with anemia and his doctor had pointed to this study as an opportunity to both improve his nutrient intake and get back on some of the foods he missed from childhood.

"...this focus group allows us to test the procedure's application in handling the body's nutrient intake. We're beginning with strictly vegetarian and vegan diets. Without going into too many details, meat brings in too many variables that we aren't quite ready to handle yet."

Phil tried to stay focused, but he couldn't keep his mind off of the blonde seated next to him. Where he could barely pry his eyes away from her, she only barely acknowledged him. He badly wanted to speak up and introduce himself, but he couldn't bring himself to speak. He told himself that he didn't want to interrupt the speaker, but in actuality, he was painfully shy. This shyness was reinforced by years of feeling like an outsider with weird medical issues. The blonde's low cut shirt certainly wasn't helping either, and his eyes couldn't help but continue to drift downward to her flaring hips and toned legs in form-fitting pants.

"...as always, please be advised," Phil watched the girl subtly mouth along with the warning that she seemed to have committed to memory. "While all precautions have been taken to ensure the safety of all participants, this is a medical trial. Northshore Health and Science Clinic will not be held responsible for any undesired permanent side effects." Phil looked down at the paperwork in front of him and signed the papers quickly while he still had his resolve.

"I'll give you all a five-minute break while we prep the first treatment," the lead clinician announced, wrapping up. "Feel free to help yourself to the fresh organic fruit and vegetables, and talk to one of the lab assistants if you have any questions. "We'll then begin calling you alphabetically, by last name."

Phil figured he had at least a half hour before getting called, but he couldn't guess about the girl. With his luck, her last name would be "Aardvark." Still riding the confidence high from having the courage to sign the paperwork, he shuffled a seat closer to the girl, who didn't look up. He was at a loss for good pick up lines, but the worst she could do is blow him off.

"Hi...um...what's up?"

She looked at him, her expression soft and her blue eyes bright. "Just lookin' for some drugs, you?"

Phil grinned, "Ditto."

There was a pause, and Phil was determined not to let the air out of the moment. "I'm Phil," he said, extending his hand.

"Claire." She lightly shook his hand and Phil was momentarily distracted by the v-neck tremors set in motion by their handshake. His mind searched for a conversation topic.

"I have a bone condition," he said suddenly. There was another pause, and Claire looked slightly amused. "I...I mean I haven't had a lot of food options with my bone condition. If this works out, it could be really good for me."

"That's great!" Claire chimed with genuine sincerity, "you must be really excited."

"I dunno, I feel like I lost my faith in Western medicine years ago."

"Aw, hey. I know people who've done some trials here and the results have been good." Claire was really referring more to herself, as she herself had been a part of several medical successes through her participation in NHSC drug trials. At the same time, she also knew of a fair number of misfires, one of which had left her with a rash on her neck that, fortunately, had healed into what appeared to be a large birthmark. Phil didn't need to know about that, though.

"My friend works for the clinic and invited me into this study, how'd you hear about it?"

"My doctor," Phil said, feeling comfortable opening up about his medical history. Claire's light-heartedness was putting Phil at ease, which was good, given his lifelong struggles with the opposite sex. Brittle bones and clammy skin weren't much of a chick magnet. This girl was certainly pale and lean, but hardly—he tried not to let his eyes drift downward—unhealthy.

"What do you do for a living, Phil?"

"I'm working on my AA degree over at NCC. I'm hoping to transfer to the Computer Science program at Stenson University, you?"

"Waitress," Claire replied.

"Really? That's cool, I guess. Where do you waitress?"

Claire grinned and rolled her eyes. "Hooters, on 72nd Ave."

Phil immediately choked on his water, and Claire giggled. She had immediately picked up on Phil's awkwardness, and a little devil inside her felt the need to toy with him a bit. "Um, that's…um…" Phil continued to search for words but only stammered.

Claire touched his arm. "Phil, I'm kidding." Phil still looked uncomfortable, so Claire decided to bear the burden of embarrassment for awhile. "Ok, I'm not entirely kidding. I worked at Denny's for a few months last year. Without spilling too much, let's just say it was an unpleasant experience."

"Well that's good," Phil said, still recovering. Claire raised an eyebrow, and Phil's eyes went wide. "No! Wait! That's not what I meant. I didn't mean that I'm glad you had a bad time, I meant that I'm glad you uh…don't…"

Claire held a hand up, stopping him. "I learned a lot about myself, and I learned that there are some things that really aren't worth shit money, no matter how well some people may tip you." Phil still looked uncomfortable, so Claire decided to bridge back to familiar territory. "I did meet some nice people, though. My roommate started and quit around the same time I did. She actually just turned in her application to Hooters today. I also met the friend that recommended this study to me when he dropped in for a Grand Slam breakfast. I've been unemployed since I quit that hellhole, so between my chronic iron and cash deficiencies, this study is right up my alley."

"Claire Albertson," a clinician in the corner announced, "please come to room two." Claire tossed her book in her bag and stood to leave. Compact and curvy—no taller than 5'2" at the most—Phil caught himself letting his eyes widen at her profile. Claire noticed but didn't seem to mind.

"Well, it was nice to meet you, Phil." Claire sauntered away, leaving Phil to admire the way she poured into a pair of yoga pants. "I'll see you again soon!"

"Yeah, um, thanks," Phil said, watching her exit. When she was entirely out of sight, he whistled softly to himself and headed over to help himself to the fruit trays.

Chapter Three
I wonder if Phil feels as bad as I do right now?

Claire couldn't imagine so. Unlike herself, Phil actually fit the bill for the study. The memories of Phil and yesterday's treatment faded as her head detonated into a splitting headache. She squirmed about on the bed, clutching her stomach and hoping, no, praying that she would either vomit or lose consciousness soon. Panic set in.

Oh God, I'm going to die. No, I won't die. Even worse, I'm going to have to call 911, and they're going to put me in a hospital, and I'll have to tell them what happened, and Sean will get expelled, and I'll get charged a billion dollars because I don't have fucking health insurance.

Claire wanted to yell for Julie. She wanted to grab her phone and call the police. She wanted to douse herself in ice water. She wanted to retch her body dry. She wanted to do any number of things except writhe in agony on the bed, but unfortunately, that's all she could do. The room felt miles away, yet she felt as if she were too big for the air around her. Her arms and legs were sluggish and heavy,

Claire was on the verge of tears when another sensation hit her like a lightning bolt. Where she had been underwater before, everything was now crystal clear. Every cell in her body and every synapse in her brain now screamed for sustenance. She had to eat—immediately.

She rocketed to her feet and scrambled to the kitchen. She felt her toe hit the corner of the wall with an impact that any other time would be crippling. At the moment, she could think of nothing more important than getting to the fridge. With her first impulse, she yanked open the fridge and grabbed a pastry she'd purchased from Starbucks. She took a few bites, which quickly became large chomps. In half a minute she'd wolfed the pastry down. Next came a cold Tupperware of cold spaghetti that she slurped down without silverware.

It was getting worse. The more she ate, the hungrier she seemed to get. First were bananas that she tried to peel but couldn't peel fast enough, so she bit into the raw fruit and swallowed it in three quick bites and one big gulp. Four bananas later came the milk jug, which she sucked on, relishing the feeling of the cool liquid flowing down her throat. A jar of applesauce was next, shaking the contents of the jar into her mouth, which was only barely big enough. She bit into a block of cheese, and several bites later it was gone as well.

While she was only half-consciously aware of what she was doing, she realized she was running short on prepared or leftover food. Without a second thought, she reached for a jar of pickles. A combination of desperation and haste, the jar slipped from her hands and shattered on the ground. Sobbing convulsively, Claire scrambled to gather the rest of them and stuff them in her mouth, even as she reached with another hand for a jar of jelly. No matter what, she couldn't get the food in her fast enough, and frustration was killing her, but not stopping her. The fridge nearly empty, Claire dragged herself to her feet and reached for the cabinets.

- - - - - -

Julie tried to ignore the tossing and turning coming from Claire's room as well as the multiple trips to the bathroom over the past few days. As much as she wanted to say something, she had a standing agreement with her roommate. One rule, Julie. No matter, what don't judge me. If I need your help, I'll ask for it. Otherwise, don't even offer.

She turned over and looked at the clock, catching it just as it read 2:00 AM on the dot. After the mind-numbing interview and the sleazy date, she really just wanted to sleep. She wasn't in the mood for this.

While she respected her roommate's lifestyle, she also cared about her well-being, and the sounds in the kitchen were almost too much to bear. She Julie's groans had become whimpers, and eventually full sobs, followed by the unmistakable sound of dishes dropping to the floor. She hadn't said anything when Claire had broken out into the nastiest rash she'd seen in her life, and she'd stayed quiet when Claire puked her way through a motion-sickness remedy study. Hearing Claire's moaning and wailing in the kitchen, however, was too much. Julie rocketed out of bed and nearly pulled her bedroom door off its hinges. The lights in the apartment were off, and only the soft light of the refrigerator lit the kitchen.

Claire was sobbing hysterically on the kitchen floor, next to the wide open kitchen door. The fridge was nearly cleaned out, its contents either consumed or emptied onto the ground, contributing to the casserole of items strewn about. Claire had obviously sampled nearly everything in the fridge, and from the looks of it, the cabinets too. Everything from milk cartons and Tupperware containers, to margarine tubs and what was left of a pickle jar, was strewn about with hardly a trace of edible food left.

"Claire? Sweetie? You okay?" Julie asked, slowly approaching her. Claire was still sobbing loudly, curled on the floor. Julie could hear Claire protesting softly at Julie's presence, but it was mostly unintelligible. Julie stopped approaching and calmly urged Claire to turn over. Claire seemed to protest initially, but eventually, she rolled all the way over in the direction of her roommate.

What Julie saw made her take a step back.

Claire was paler than usual and her eyes were bloodshot. Her shirt was decorated in stains and wet with perspiration, but Julie barely noticed any of these things as she was drawn to Claire's swollen belly which protruded from under her shirt like a second term pregnancy.

"Shit! Jeez! Claire. What the hell happened?" Julie wasn't sure what to do or say. Claire, who had shown few signs of telepathy up to this point, slowly let a chilling grin creep across her face. Against her mind's impulse—which was screaming for her to run—Julie began approaching Claire, being careful to avoid broken glass.

"I'm so hungry, Jules." Claire had stopped sobbing, and while she was no longer hysterical, her voice seemed to come from another world.

"Claire," Julie said, crouching down beside her, unable to pry her eyes away from her friend, "I think you need help."

"Nooooo," Claire purred. "I'm just hungry."

"Claire," Julie reached for her phone, "I'm going to call the…"

"NO!" Claire lashed out and grabbed Julie by the collar with a force so sudden it jerked her over, twinging her back. Julie yelped loudly, but Claire maintained her grip, like a vice holding her firmly in place. Claire's strength was almost inhuman, and this wasn't helping Julie keep her cool. She placed her hand over Claire's and tried to persuade Claire to loosen her grip.

"Don't call anyone, Jules. Nobody." Claire's voice was soft but firm.

"I won't Claire, but please let go of me."

"What do you need, Claire?"

"Take me to bed, Jules. I want to sleep."

Julie paused and took in the scene in the kitchen and the sight of her friend who seemed to hover near consciousness. She was no medic, but Claire seemed to be calmer. The sight of the bloated belly was nearly making Julie sick, but she gave in.

"Okay, Claire. I'll help you get to bed, but I'll check on you first thing in the morning."

Claire smiled softly, almost euphoric. Her right hand rubbed her exposed belly. "Yay!" Julie pulled her near dead-weight friend to her feet and began the arduous task of dragging Claire to her bed.

- - - - - - -

The next morning, Julie felt hung over.

By the time she'd dragged Claire to her own room and dumped her on the bed, it was 2:45 AM. She had set outside Claire's room for a bit, but all she heard was tossing and turning sprinkled with light giggles until snoring set in around 3:30. Once she got back to her room she lay and watch the minutes tick by, reaching around 5:30 before her body began to finally wind down from the adrenaline. It was now 9:17, and there was a racket coming from the bathroom. Julie clenched her teeth and pushed her dark hair out of her face, before pulling herself out of bed to check on Claire.

Part of her was thrilled to hear the sounds of her roommate up and about. On the other hand, considering the delirium she had seen Claire in, she was afraid of what she would find. Fortunately, the voice that spoke up was more familiar than the one she heard last night.

"Jules?"

"Claire? Is that you in there?"

"Um, yeah. Sort, of."

"Sort of? Are you okay?" Julie pressed her ear against the door.

"I'm not sure. I guess so?" There was a brief silence.

"God, Claire I thought you were going to die last night. I'm so glad to hear you're okay."

"Jules…"

"You are okay, aren't you Claire?"

"Julie, I don't quite know how to say this."

"You didn't puke all over the bathroom, did you."

"No, but I feel like I should."

"Did all your hair fall out or something?"

"No…"

"Well, what is it?"

There was a pause. "I'm bigger."

"Bigger?" Julie furrowed. "Well, considering the couple gallons of food you put away last night, that's not surprising."

"Not fatter, Jules. Bigger."

"Bigger?"

Claire stepped out of the bathroom and Julie felt the color wash from her face.

"Bigger."

Claire's figure had always swelled in the right places. In the undersized t-shirt and shorts, her curves bulged. A stretch tee that had been snug on her before was now struggling to contain her. Her breasts tugged the collar down and exposed the hem around her midriff. Unbuttoned jean shorts substituted for too-small undergarments, just barely covering the essentials. A red line under her bellybutton indicated that she'd tried other undersized underwear before settling on none.

"Taller, bigger. I don't know what to tell you."

Julie shut her eyes tightly and opened them again, expecting that for some reason things would change. "How, um, big are you?"

"I'm a tick under five foot five. Believe me, I've measured quite a few times."

Julie closed the distance between them until only a couple feet separated them. At five foot ten, the nearly three-inch gain for Claire was dramatic. Despite Claire being still being significantly shorter, such a dramatic gain in such a short time along with the small clothes on Claire's already full figure made the changes all the more exaggerated. Claire seemed to still be in shock, and reacting similarly to her taller roommate's new relative height to her own.

"How could this happen?" Claire said softly. "What could do this?"

Realization hit Julie like an uppercut. "Last night!"

"Last night?"

"Yes 'last night.' Your crazy eating binge. What else could it be?"

Claire seemed confused. "Eating binge? You mean, that happened?"

"What the hell, Claire? Did you forget? Last night you ate pretty much everything in the whole damned kitchen. When I found you looked like a damned alien was going to burst from you! I don't even think what you did last night should even be possible."

Claire let a few fingers brush against her exposed midriff which, if anything, bulged a little less than usual. "It's weird. I barely even remember that. Last I remember, I was laying in bed."

"You don't remember anything?"

"I guess kind of, but if anything it's like a weird dream. One I barely even remember, at that."

"God, Claire. I wish I could forget it. It was like some shit straight out of The Exorcist. It wasn't even like you. It was like you were…an animal or something." Julie looked up, surprised that Claire met her eyes. They held eye contact for a moment before Claire looked away and down.

"Don't tell anyone, Jules."

Julie's mouth fell open. "Claire, are you kidding!? You nearly died! For all we know you still might!"

Claire grabbed Julie's wrist suddenly. "Julie," she spoke slowly. "Don't…tell…anyone."

Julie saw a brief flash of the Claire from the previous night, but she wasn't sure if was real or a terrifying recollection. Claire saw the reaction and immediately softened. "Sweetie, I'm not threatening you or anything. I want to talk to Seth at the clinic first. They designed the treatment, after all."

Julie's lips tightened, and then relaxed. "Claire, just take care of yourself. This is not remotely natural and it just gives me a bad feeling." Julie took a slow breath. "I've said my peace. I'm going to trust you to take care of yourself from here on out. Just try to go easy on my nerves, okay?"

"Okay…"

"Claire." Julie's voice was almost icy. Claire looked up.

"Okay."

"Good." Julie smiled. "Now, lets get you some clothes. You look like a whore."