Or I tried to. I felt my body jerk forward, but the little girl had given a sudden flick of her chin, and all of the sudden, I stood motionless. My blouse was half unbuttoned, over my black shorts and my tiny training bra.
"Oh, I don't think so," she tsked, that infuriating smile still on her face. "I can't have this. Let's see. We just need to fix you up a little bit, to teach you a little lesson. Well, you're already twelve, but what else could I do to frustrate you?" I still couldn't move. She was peering deep into my eyes, as though trying to read my mind. "I know. You're not quite dweeby enough. What if we upped your nerdiness quotient a bit? That should make middle school fun."
Oh god. She _was_ reading my mind. Ever since having been shrunk down to this size, I had been petrified of what the other girls, now taller and even, I gulped, more developed than me, would do to make fun of me if I was stuck like this on a day to day basis. I already had the braces and freckles I'd had back when I was twelve the first time. And now she was going to do worse?
"Please," I tried suddenly. "I promise. I won't do anything. I'll keep to myself. You don't need to worry about me. Or Chris. I promise."
"Too late," the girl smiled. "It's already started."
She turned me towards the mirror in the corner of the locker room. I gasped. My hair, which had been that awful dull brown was growing slowly... orange. Bright, flaming orange, which began ever so slowly to clash with my skin. And that skin wasn't helping matters, either. I could see it getting pale, certainly much paler than my nicely-tanned adult body had been. The freckles I'd had were multiplying, across my nose, forehead, and cheeks. Mixed in were a few zits, just like Chris now had. My eyebrows, too, were turning an almost translucent orange, but all the while getting bushier and sneaking closer together. My ears had gotten bigger, I realized. I still had my weak chin and chubby cheeks, which made my increasing buckteeth look even more awkward.
And my body. I had thought I was scrawny before, but this was a new level. I realized I was easily two or three inches shorter than the girl who was transforming me, and certainly now among the shorter girls in the locker room, if not the shortest. My knees and elbows looked knobby. I had ended up with no muscle whatsoever. My only shape came from a slight paunch to my little stomach. I had freckles all over my arms and legs, too.
"Just a bit more, then," the girl said. "I think we should compromise your vision a bit." Suddenly, my vision went blurry. "Here." She was handing me a pair of thick-rimmed black glasses, which I had no choice but to put on my freckled face. I looked like such a nerd. "And we're going to decrease your coordination and reaction time by a bit, too," she mused, almost to herself. "That should make basketball a little more interesting. And your strength." I felt suddenly, horribly weak. My wrists looked like toothpicks, and for a moment I felt almost shaky on my feet. "There. Now," she smiled, "You'll just be the slowest on the court. And good luck making a basket. Or even a pass. I've knocked your hand-eye coordination down a few pegs."
"Why are you doing this?" I whispered. I was nearly in tears.
"Oh, your voice." She snapped her fingers. "Try again."
"Wha... What did you thay?" I gasped. "Thay." I tried again. "What did you do? I can't thay it. Thay it."
"Just a minor lisp," she explained. "Only your s is gone. Watch it, or I might take a few more."
My eyes widened. I turned back to the mirror in disbelief. A forlorn-looking, bespectacled, scrawny, freckled, horribly pale red-headed geek looked back at me. Why was she doing this?
I turned to ask her again, but the girl was gone. Vanished.
A voice rang out from the locker room door. "Alright, girls! Time for practice! Don't forget your water bottles."