Dustin didn't move for a bit, even after he wasn't frozen anymore. He shivered; somehow his bratty little foster brother was like, a witch or a demon or something. And Dustin was the only one who knew.
Yesterday everything was normal. Dustin was his normal self; popular, good-looking, strong and tall. And Ty was... well, he was Ty. The annoying whiny runt who was always trying to mess up Dustin's life. THAT part hadn't changed, maybe. But this morning Ty was NOT runty, and Dustin was, and...
And Ty, that evil witch-demon or whatever, wanted to say that this was all Dustin's fault! That he and his parents were the jerks! Well... well that's just dumb. Dustin had like a million friends, and jerks don't make a lot of friends. And his parents were strict, but Ty started living with them when he was eleven; they couldn't raise him right like they did with Dustin, so they had to keep a close eye one him.
Right?
Dustin groaned and flopped back on his (smaller) bed. Whatever. It didn't matter now anyway. Somehow Ty was making the rules now. So Dustin would have to play along. But why did Ty have to make him thirteen and wimpy? That wasn't fair! Scowling, Dustin glared over at the stupid cookie jar Ty made.
"I wish Dustin had tO be nIce," Dustin mocked, but winced as his voice cracked instead of mimicking Ty's (much deeper) voice. Stupid puberty.
Dustin froze, and glanced between the dumb height chart on his door and the jar. Wait a minute. Ty messed up! Ty said the cookies would make him older, and that he'd grow more if he did nice stuff, but he never said Dustin had to mean it or anything.
Dustin scrambled off his bed and grabbed his backpack. Ugh, middle-school books. EARLY middle-school books. Dustin tossed them back and scrambled downstairs. His dad was busy in the kitchen so the family computer was free. (He didn't even have his own computer anymore; UNFAIR!)
A little searching and Dustin had the printer spit out two pages. One was a bunch of health advice for young teens on diet, exercise, and sleep. The other one was a flyer for local charities. It took another hour, but with a bit of research Dustin put together his plan. First, go downstairs and apologize to his mom and dad for yelling at breakfast. Then, have an actual breakfast with good protein, veggies, and milk. Then help mom or dad with something they need. Exercise everything he can for about two hours. Stretch and take a nap. Healthy lunch, then charity work. Exercise and stretch again, and grab a full night of sleep. No soda, no junk food, no video games.
Doing that all the time would suck, but thanks to Ty messing up, Dustin only needed to do it for ONE DAY, and then he could get a month's worth of growth on it from the cookie. Dustin almost cackled, but he wasn't sure if that counted as 'evil'.
His parents were a little freaked out by the apology, but they helped him fix up a good breakfast and then he helped his dad with vacuuming and washing the cars. Between that and a long run and a bunch of pushups, sit-ups, and stuff, Dustin passed out for his nap easy. It was a little embarrassing to take a nap, but whatever. Lunch went fine, and the local food bank was happy to let him lift and carry boxes of food and potato sacks - free extra workout, woo!
Dustin didn't think he'd ever worked that hard in his LIFE before. He was a bit nervous at supper, but Ty didn't come home. His mom said he was eating over at a friend's place. 'Fine by me,' Dustin thought.
The next morning, after sleeping for almost ten hours (no alarm), Dustin stared at the cookie in his hand and gulped. What if it was poisoned? What if it was just a cookie?
"Screw it," Dustin muttered as he snuck downstairs and poured himself a tall glass of milk. Glaring at the cookie, Dustin tossed it back and swallowed it down with half the milk.
Nothing happened.
Nothing happened!
"Ty you jErk," Dustin wiped furiously at his eyes, which were NOT tearing up. "You sai- ah!"
Dustin winced as his stomach cramped HARD. Oh gosh, it was poisoned! Hand shaking, Dustin slid his glass onto the counter and shuffled toward the sink. He needed to puke, or something. Needed to get the cookie out.
"Oh," He groaned, sinking to the ground, as his stomach gurgled. He almost heard a BUBBLING noise, like something gloppy was boiling in his guts.
"UUUUUUURP" Dustin belched, louder and longer than he ever had. Ugh, the aftertaste! Like milk, and egg whites and wheat and... wait, why was he tasting yesterday's breakfast?
"Mmmn," Dustin shivered as he felt some weird energy jolt through him, racing from his toes up through his fingertips. He flopped back on the cool kitchen floor as he felt his arms and legs cramp, as his heart sped up, and his head ached.
"Ow," Dustin felt kind of pathetic as he winced and massaged his arms and legs. Cracking an eye open, he looked down and saw his sore stomach puffed up under his sleeping shirt. That weird bubbly sloshy noise continued even as he ached. Everything hurt! Ty poisoned him for sure!
"Hic!" Tears pricked his eyes as his abs flexed again and the pressure made him hiccup. He felt so tired, like he'd been running nonstop for days. Slowly, Dustin relaxed, limbs like limp noodles on the cold tile, barely able to keep his head up until even his neck gave up and he fell back with a soft thunk.
Finally, with one last SUPER weird sensation, Dustin felt the round tightness in his belly just... relax. It felt like warm mud was just seeping away from his middle, along his legs to his feet, and through his chest and arms. Everywhere the feeling went felt tired and heavy, like he could just sink into the floor.
Dustin wasn't sure how long he stayed on the floor after that. What he did know is that when he stood up, he wobbled a bit and he almost tripped on the steps when he went to his room. Since he wasn't dead, he was pretty sure the cookie did what Ty said, but the dick never said that it would feel like that!
His clothes felt weird. The shirt and pants clung to him a bit, in a way they didn't before. Wriggling, Dustin peeled off the shirt and gaped at the visible difference. He had abs! Faint ones, and only four, but his scrawny ass didn't have those yesterday. And... yep, flexing showed his arms had some muscle on them again. Not a lot, but more than the twigs he was sporting before. Now that he was paying attention, everything felt a bit more solid, like he'd gained some healthy weight.
Dustin scrambled into some basketball shorts and one of his bigger shirts. Yep, he'd definitely grown. But how much?
A trip over to the height chart had Dustin shooting his cookie-jar self a matching grin. No way did Ty mean to do this. Dustin was a teenager, and he'd already grown once before Ty stole it. But no way did he see gains like this when he was thirteen, and no way in just one month.
And he'd grown. Three. Whole. Inches.