Too Tall
by Solomon

'I'm sorry, Becky,' Coach Ramsay said. 'You're just too tall.'

Becky cursed her body. 15 years-old and she was already 5'10''. And a gawky 5'10'' at that. She looked like one of those grotesque drawings in 'Alice in Wonderland.'

And all she wanted to do, the only thing she wanted to do, was be a gymnast. Dance across the balance beam or somersault through the air above the floor mat. And Becky was talented. She knew it. She had been practicing ever since she was six, and had always been at the top of her group, whether at the YMCA or at the state junior championship, where she had won gold medals for five consecutive years. Her specialty were the uneven bars, but she excelled at every event. Her parents and coaches spoke of Olympics.

But then came this year, and the growth spurt from hell. Six inches in thirteen months. Her lithe body became ungainly. Every time she managed to control her center of gravity, she would grow another inch and have to start all over again. It was terrible.

And meanwhile, there came Sandy. Sandy Patterson from Elkwood, Illinois. A transfer student. A new member of the school gymnastics team. Her specialty: the uneven bars. Her height: 4'11''. Her talent: incredible.

She won medals and she won boyfriends and all Becky could do was practice harder and harder after school, just to receive half the results as Sandy.

And then came the day for Coach Ramsay to select his team for the junior championships. And then came the biggest defeat of Becky's 15 year-old life.

'You can help me coach from the side lines,' Ramsay said. 'With your experience, we could go all the way again this year, maybe even past the regionals. But Becky, you know how it is. You're too tall to compete and hope to win. You understand, don't you?'

Becky silently nodded and the coach patted her on the shoulder. She didn't blame him. He was just looking out for the team.

She blamed Sandy.

Sandy took her slot. Sandy distracted the coach's attention. Everything she did was to make Becky look worse in comparison. And it worked.

'Too tall!' Becky cried in the empty gym. 'It's not my fault!'

'Hey, Becky,' someone called out.

Becky spun around. And there was Sandy, standing by the doors. Watching silently while Becky wept. And was that a smile on those lips?

'Too bad about not making the cut,' Sandy said. 'Maybe you can try out for the basketball team.'

And, laughing, she skipped away.

'I wish were YOU were too tall,' Becky muttered. 'Then we'd see who'd be laughing.'

The weeks went by with agonizing slowness. Becky did help coach the gymnastics team, which meant that every day she could stand by and watch Coach Ramsay applaud every move Sandy made. He called her his little 'piece of gold.' And every time he called her that, Becky repeated her wish, with fury.

Finally, the big day came. The state championships. Becky walked around the locker room, giving a word of confidence to each of her nervous peers as they slipped into their leotards. Then, finally, she came to Sandy. She tried to pass by her, by Sandy stopped her:

'Oh, Becky, I forgot to ask you. What's your record on the uneven bars?'

'9.7. Why?'

'I just want to know what I'm going to beat. Have a nice day.'

Becky clenched her fists, muttered her wish again, and went into the gym to sit beside the coach.

'Why are YOUR hands covered in chalk?' she asked.

'To keep them from sweating too much,' he replied.

'They're a good team, Coach Ramsay.'

'I know. Hey, why should I worry? We've got our piece of gold!'

And then they came, and the competitions began. Everything was going well for their team, and then it was Sandy's turn. On the balance beam.

Becky watched Sandy's 4'11'' body mount the beam flawlessly. It looked like it might be a perfect routine. When then, suddenly, as Sandy landed from a back flip, she slipped! Quickly regained her balance, but something was wrong. Sandy continued with her routine. Becky noticed the furrows and sweat beginning to spring up across her brow. Since when did Sandy feel nervous?

And then: another error. A stupid one. Sandy was walking backward on the beam when her balance just gave out. She flailed her arms madly, and fell onto the mat below the beam. She picked herself up, looking quite confused, and then Becky noticed something. Something odd. As Sandy stood beside the beam, the beam looked shorter than it usually did on her. Sandy was able to rest her hands on it without having to bend up her elbows.

Sandy pulled herself back up and finished her routine, but it was all shoddy. Her balance was way off. When she was done, and had finished what was supposed to be her dismount, the judges ended up giving her a combined score of 2.0.

'What's wrong?!' Coach Ramsay asked, as she returned to their bench.

But Becky knew. Somehow, for some miraculous reason, her wish had been granted. As Sandy stood beside her, as Sandy's head now reached up to Becky's shoulders, Becky knew. And smiled.

Sandy, on the other hand, had no idea what was going on. She tried to explain it to the coach, but ended up just bursting into tears.

'I don't...I don't know...' she said between sobs. 'And my uniform feels so uncomfortable on me!'

Indeed, her leotard did look tight on her new body. Becky could see Sandy's erect nipples on her swollen B-cup breasts through the blue-and-white material. They had to be what was throwing Sandy's balance off the most.

Aw.

Sandy sat on the bench and waited for her next event to come. Meanwhile, she kept adjusting her leotard.

'I don't know what's wrong with this thing. Did I pick out the right size? Hey, Becky, check the tag on the back of my leotard. Is it my right size?'

'Oh, it's perfect, Sandy,' Becky replied.

Then came Sandy's next event: the floor. Sandy rose, but it became hard to stand up straight, as the material of her leotard could only stretch so much. Finally, she was able to do it, and Becky stood up next to her. Sandy had to be at least 5'8'' now! The other teammates were too involved in their own events to notice, but Coach Ramsay did, and as Sandy stepped out onto the floor mat, he asked Becky if she thought something was wrong with their piece of gold.

'Maybe she isn't golden after all, Coach. Maybe she's just glitter.'

Sandy's floor routine, to the music of Tori Amos, was all wrong. Her somersaults and flips were higher than Becky had ever seen anyone jump, but her landings were atrocious. Even though Sandy's feet were now quite large, but the rest of her body was growing in proportion, except her breasts which seemed to be expanding at an even faster rate; Sandy often tripped forward from the extra weight. Her breasts had to be at least D-cup size now, and were being bunched up inside her leotard like pillows. Her flesh-colored panty hose had broken in many places all across her stretching legs, making Sandy look unkempt and ridiculous. Becky began to giggle.

Sandy returned to the bench, her face red with embarassment and tears.

'I don't know what's wrong with me!' she yelled at Coach Ramsay, looking the 6'1'' man straight in the eye.

'This is unbelievable,' was all he could say, and told Becky to go find a doctor. Becky left the bench, but just hid by the bleachers to see what happened next.

Meanwhile, the people in the audience had begun to notice and many began to point and laugh. Mumble jokes amongst themselves. It felt great! Fortunately none of Sandy's family was there to share in the humiliation, although a couple of her friends had noticeably gotten up from their seats 'but would be back in a minute.' Such were the types of friends a person like Sandy had, Becky concluded.

Finally came the uneven bars. Sandy asked the coach to take her name off the competition, but she was the only hope the team had of winning any kind of medal that day. So, reluctantly, Sandy marched out to the uneven bars, amidst the jeers and the boos. On her way, she tripped over her panty hose, as the remaining threads fell to the floor in utter defeat.

She stood underneath the top bar and put her arms up. And easily reached it.

'Oh my God!' Becky whispered. 'How tall IS she now?'

As she stretched, her leotard finally burst in two. The top part barely concealed her E-cup breasts, as functioned more as a blue-and-white strip across the massive pair, as ample flesh swelled out from all sides. And her bottom was already ripping in places across her waist and thighs. She would not be clothed for long.

Sandy grabbed the top bar and pulled. Hard. Slowly, her body rose from the ground, but something was wrong. She wasn't strong enough to lift herself! The bar bowed painfully downward as she struggled, and then, suddenly, it snapped in two and fell onto the mat around her.

The crowd roared in laughter and Sandy just stood there, in the center of it all, and wept some more. With each heaving breath, her breasts pushed out more and more, until the top just popped off of her. She was now taller than the top bar had been, taller than any woman had ever been.

Much, much, too tall.

Becky felt a pang of guilt. Maybe this was overboard. And she also felt new sympathy for Sandy. After all, she knew what it was like to be laughed at for her size. She walked out into the gym and up to Sandy.

Sandy looked down, way down, at Becky.

'What do you want?'

'Come on,' Becky said. 'Let's get out of here.'

And Becky led giant Sandy out of the gymnasium. They had a lot to talk about.