Taylor continued to listen to the girls as her friends talked around her. She could still hear their teasing and the awkwardness it was causing the chubby brunette, who was now visibly trying to fight back tears as she struggled with the cruel remarks.
"Honestly, you're going to finish that entire tray?" Maeve’s voice rang out again, dismissing any sense of tact or empathy. “It’s honestly embarrassing to watch you try to eat all that.”
The chubby girl winced, her hands shaking as she put down her fork. Taylor watched as the girl’s face turned red, tears welling in her eyes. Without warning, she stood up quickly, pushing her chair back too loudly, making a scene as she hurriedly gathered her things and rushed out of the cafeteria.
Maeve, of course, wasn’t finished. Her voice rang out again, louder than before, her laughter cutting through the air. "Well, guess someone can’t handle the pressure," she said, loud enough for anyone to hear.
Jane snickered beside her, while Avery barely even looked up from her phone. They all seemed to think this was the best thing to happen all week—some harmless fun at the expense of another person. Taylor’s irritation built to a boiling point, and she couldn’t let it go.
Her fingers curled around her notebook, her mind racing as she thought about how she could give Maeve and her friends a dose of their own medicine. She didn't want to let this slide, not after seeing how vulnerable the chubby girl had been.
Taylor scribbled quickly in her notebook: "Maeve, Jane, and Avery will each gain a different attribute/characteristic of a pig."
She was curious to see how things would play out, and it didn't take long before the first noticeable shift began.
Maeve, the confident leader and president of the sorority, was the first to show signs of change. At first, it was subtle: she paused mid-sentence, glancing at the food on the table in front of her with a sharper intensity. Normally, Maeve was composed and controlled, but now there was an unsettling hunger behind her eyes. As she spoke, her tone shifted to something more demanding, as if she could barely control her urge to consume everything around her. She grabbed the salt shaker with an almost frantic urgency, sprinkling a generous amount on her salad without a second thought. Taylor noticed how Maeve seemed fixated on the food, her gaze lingering longer than usual, almost as if she were waiting for something more to satisfy her appetite.
"That salad needs more dressing," Maeve muttered to herself, even though the salad was already perfectly dressed. She absentmindedly reached for another roll on the table, her hand moving faster than Taylor had seen before, as though she couldn't resist the impulse to devour something.
Taylor watched this with growing satisfaction. Maeve had always been the type of person who controlled everything around her, but now that control seemed to be slipping, replaced by a kind of primal hunger. She wasn't just eating; she was ravenous. Maeve’s movements had a new urgency to them, an insatiable need to fill herself.
Next, there was Jane. Jane had always been sharp-witted, the type to make quick remarks and keep the conversation flowing with her snarky sense of humor. But now, Taylor saw her slowing down. At first, it seemed harmless enough, just a lack of energy as she leaned back in her seat. But soon, Jane’s movements became sluggish, almost listless, like the effort of maintaining her usual level of sharpness was too much. She leaned her head back against the chair with an almost exaggerated lack of care, her posture slumping further than it ever had before.
"Ugh, I can't even with this class anymore," Jane muttered, her voice drawn out as she yawned for what seemed like the fifth time in the last few minutes. Her hand lazily reached for her drink, and instead of sipping it with the usual enthusiasm, she just held it there, the cup resting on her chest like a weight.
Normally, Jane would’ve been the first to jump up and make a comment, but now she could barely lift her eyelids without a tired sigh. Her laziness wasn’t just mental; it was physically evident. It was like she was incapable of the energy she once had, and her movements had become languid, sluggish, as though she were weighed down by an invisible force.
Then, there was Avery. Taylor had always considered Avery the quiet one of the trio, but not necessarily any less insufferable. Avery was usually calm, poised, but now Taylor noticed something strange in her expression. Every so often, Avery’s lips would twitch, her face scrunching like she was about to say something—but it wasn’t the words coming out that were the most surprising. It was the noises.
A subtle snort escaped her every few moments, like a reflex she couldn't stop. Avery would try to cover it up with a forced cough or a fake laugh, but it was clear that the snorting wasn’t intentional. It happened too often for it to be an accident—each time her mouth would open, a slight snort would follow, along with a roll of her eyes as if she couldn’t help herself. She’d sniff the air suddenly, then wrinkle her nose, only to let out another snort under her breath, clearly frustrated with herself but unable to stop.
Taylor watched, fascinated by the way Avery’s attitude seemed to be shifting. Normally, Avery was composed and had a certain superiority to her quiet, almost snooty presence. Now, though, the snorting seemed to emphasize a new air of arrogance, one that was more animalistic.
Maeve, Jane, and Avery continued to laugh and gossip, completely unaware of the changes that were taking place inside them. They still carried on as usual—Maeve continuing to eat more than she normally would, Jane barely holding her attention on the conversation, and Avery occasionally snorting and sniffing in between her comments. But Taylor could see the subtle shifts, the tiny changes that were becoming more and more apparent with each passing second. The trio had become a reflection of the very traits they’d mocked in others. Maeve’s insatiable hunger, Jane’s lethargic indifference, and Avery’s snouty arrogance—all unmistakably pig-like in nature.