I suddenly remembered my neighbor, Cameron. He was 17, a junior, just like me, but he looked like he was still in seventh grade. He was short, frighteningly thin, and had a high-pitched voice, and wore a pair of thin-rimmed glasses. Cameron had messy brown hair, plain features, and his video game T-shirts and jeans were way too big for him, forcing him to tighten his belt to the far notches.
I came up with the perfect plan. I smiled as I contemplated what I would do to Cameron. It would happen overnight, while he was asleep. He'd be confused, but you were sure he would love it in the end.
The next morning, Cameron woke up to get ready for school. But as soon as he opened his eyes he knew that something was wrong. His room was decorated differently. Instead of video game posters and old action figures, there were posters of sports stars and some trophies and clippings.
Cameron climbed out of bed slowly. He felt strange. The room seemed smaller too. Was he hallucinating or dreaming? He felt off-balance, clumsy. When he reached for his glasses, there was nothing, and he realized he could see just fine.
Cameron figured he was lucid dreaming, so he had to startle himself awake. The sensation of cold water on his face ought to do the trick. So he made his way to the bathroom and, without looking in the mirror, splashed his face with cold water.
But he was still in the bathroom. Cameron glanced down at his hands. Only...they weren't his hands. These were thick, big, brawny mitts. What the heck?
Slowly, Cameron looked up and into the mirror, and what he saw caused him to let out a brief yell. And due to his habit of sleeping in his underwear, everything was on display.
There was a young man in the mirror. He was tall, over 6 feet, and he had coiffed black hair setting off the tanned skin of his face. The tan was ubiquitous, all the way down his torso and on most of his legs. He had a stunningly attractive face, with a perfect set of teeth that made the perfect smile, as well as ocean-blue eyes.
The guy was also jacked. The measurement "220 pounds" jumped into Cameron's mind, almost instinctively. His pecs were the size of watermelons, his biceps the size of canteloupes. He had a perfectly etched set of 8-pack abs. His legs were very thick, like trees, and were sculpted as though by a craftsman. He had no hair below the light stubble on his face.
Cameron turned around but no one was there. He ran his hands over his face as the hunk did the same. He felt his throat, the engorged Adam's apple. He touched his dick, which hardened to anaconda size, accompanied by balls the size of chicken eggs.
Cameron dashed back to his room and looked at the decorations again. The clippings were all of this new version of him, from the age of 10 forward. He was the strongest kid for miles around when he was young, and even as a high school student still maintained that, along with an aesthetic physique. He played football and baseball, wrestled, but his passion was weightlifting and bodybuilding. He had an impeccable fashion sense, always wearing tight designer clothes, bought with his generous allowance, as was his Lexus that he drove. He was currently dating Sidney Blackwell, the hottest girl in his class who was surprisingly nice and smart (in his original reality she had chosen Austin Edwards, the jerk wrestling captain).
Cameron didn't know most of this yet, only what he gleaned from his room. He ran downstairs still almost nude, ate a huge breakfast, and went back to put on his tightest white polo, which he left unbuttoned so as to expose his large pecs, and a tight pair of jeans that left nothing to the imagination.
How had this happened? Could he get used to it? Why did no one seem to remember the old him?