The following day, Taylor sat beside Tyler in class, eagerly awaiting his next request. As the lecture began, Tyler's gaze drifted around the room, and he nudged Taylor with a small grin.
“That’s Lydia over there,” he whispered, his eyes focused on a tall girl sitting a few rows ahead. “She’s on the volleyball team. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t even know who I am.”
Taylor turned to glance at the girl. Lydia was athletic, her tall frame accentuated by the tight volleyball team shirt she wore. Her chestnut hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, and she exuded the kind of energy that came from hours of practice and training.
“Right,” Taylor said, narrowing her eyes slightly. “So, besides her weight, what would you want to change about her?”
Tyler hesitated for a moment, looking at Lydia with a fond but distant expression. “Honestly, it’s just her hair. I’m not really into the chestnut color. I prefer blonde,” he said with a slight blush, a sheepish look creeping across his face.
Taylor smiled knowingly, scribbling a quick note in her notebook. “Got it. I’ll make her hair blonde.” She paused and then looked at him. “Do you want her to automatically be dating you, or would you rather just have her interested in you so you can ask her out yourself?”
Tyler shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I want her to be interested in me, but I’d like to ask her out. You know, do it the right way,” he said with a grin, though it was clear he was a little nervous about the whole thing.
Taylor’s eyes glinted with a hint of mischief as she wrote down, "Lydia will have blonde hair and will be interested in Tyler."
Taylor added a few more scribbled -down thoughts.
With that, she made the notes in her book: "Lydia’s height will be changed to 5’1” and she will no longer be on the volleyball team."
As soon as the words were written, Taylor could feel the air around her shift, the quiet hum of reality bending, though it was subtle enough that no one around her seemed to notice. She glanced back at Lydia, watching her closely. Lydia’s posture seemed to adjust a little, her back not quite as tall or straight as before. The way she sat in her chair appeared different — more compact, as if the height had been gently taken away.
Taylor smirked to herself. She could see the subtle shift — Lydia no longer had that unmistakable presence of an athlete. She was still wearing the volleyball shirt, but Taylor could sense that the change was already happening. Lydia seemed less self-assured now, as if her athletic identity had been replaced by something quieter, less defined.
Meanwhile, Lydia’s height continued to adjust. Her legs appeared shorter, her shoulders now sloping a little more naturally in a way that made her seem smaller than she had moments ago. Her long arms were now closer to the proportions of her new, shorter frame, but it was still almost imperceptible, unless you were watching closely.