It was Sarah. "Holy shit," she said through bouts of laughter. "You look... so dweeby. What a cutie. How old do you think you are?" She turned to the little girl, who was now just about my height, if not an inch or two taller. "How old do you think he is."
"Twelve," she said, without hesitation. "Finishing sixth grade."
"And before puberty, from the looks of it," said Sarah, still giggling. She stood up, and my heart sank when I saw what I already knew. She was over a full head taller than me, her boobs roughly even with my eyes. "Well, no time to waste, then," she said cheerfully. "You'd better start working on your homework."
"This isn't funny, Sarah," I started to say, but stopped when I heard again how my new voice sounded, like a girlish whine, maybe even with a slight lisp. I couldn't tell. My new braces were messing with the way I talked. They felt like railroad ties in my mouth. How had I worn these for so long? I shuffled backwards in my clumpy shoes, trying to distance myself a bit from this tall, adult woman. Just the sight of her full breasts and curvy hips and ass were making me feel all flushed. My tiny penis even had what might have passed for an erection. I sighed inwardly. It was maybe four inches. I felt so weak.
"I'm only half done, though," the girl protested.
"Half done?" Sarah said. "What else are you going to do to him? Are you going to make him even younger?" Sarah turned to me. "You're just going to be so adorable. Maybe get rid of some of those pimplies. And the braces. I think I prefer cherubic to dorky."
But the little girl was already clenching her fist in her pocket again, and I winced as I waited for what was to come. Thirty seconds passed, though, and I felt nothing. Then I understood. I looked directly at Sarah.
"I think it's your turn."
"My turn?" she said, surprised. Then the realization hit her, too. "Oh, no. Oh, no." She turned to the little girl. "See, one of us has to be an adult, or we won't be able to get back to campus. I can help him out, make sure everything's all right."
But she was already getting shorter, and I noticed other changes, too. Her long brown hair had snuck up her back, and it already looked frizzier and duller than I was used to seeing it. Her facial features seemed suddenly softer, her nose stubbier, her chin weaker, and her cheeks swelled a bit as they dotted with freckles. Her ears were starting to stick out, too, and I watched, fascinated, as her hair shortened to become a mousy, shoulder-length bob. Her body, so far, was mostly the same, but even that was changing rapidly. The front of her t-shirt sagged as her breasts deflated rapidly, and her hips and backside crunched inward, leaving her with coltish legs and a boyish figure. She had been a head taller than my new body but was shrinking fast. All at once we were at eye level with one another.
Her bright red top and formerly tight jeans, so far unaltered, looked gigantic on her. Just like me, though, Sarah was about to have a new wardrobe. The legs of her shrinking jeans inched upward and fused together, forming a skirt on which a bold plaid pattern gradually materialized. A row of black buttons appeared on the jeans at waist height, and fabric piled on top of this new waistband until it looped up over her shoulders -- a jumper just like that of the little girl who was still staring at us. Sarah's shirt, too, lost all its color and grew a Peter Pan collar even as buttons appeared down its center. Her sleeves puffed up a bit around her now awkwardly skinny upper arms. Her sneakers had shifted to become black Mary Janes with prominent buckles, and her socks sprouted a lace frill around her tiny ankles. A plain black hairband suddenly appeared on top of her head. Sarah reached up to touch it and almost started shaking.
"What is... what have... " She couldn't get any words out. Her voice, too, was higher, and I could see the glimmer of braces through her lips.
Both of us looked at one another, stunned. That was certainly my girlfriend, but a younger, pudgier, plainer version of the college-aged woman I was accustomed to seeing. She was maybe 4'10", just a little shorter than me, and looked and sounded like a dorky chipmunk. All her curves had disappeared, but I could see through her jumper some baby fat around her waist, and her arms and legs looked almost chunky, like they needed to be stretched out.
"Now you're all set," the girl who had changed us said. She turned away and disappeared through the cafeteria door before either of us could say or do anything else.