Fight

"Stacey, I don't have time for this." Megan looked at her, angrily, and spoke through gritted teeth. "Where is it?"

Stacey, momentarily surprised at Megan's novel disregard for her authority, looked taken aback, before an evil grin returned to her face. "Seems like this marker's really important to you," she said, impishly, as she turned and left the bathroom.

Megan, under time pressure to get answers and find a way to stop her breasts growing, followed Stacey and grabbed at her blonde ponytail, pulling her back into the bathroom.

Megan began to interrogate her, but Stacey's calculated scream echoed down the hall, no doubt summoning the entire school to the girls' bathroom.

"You, give me that and go to class. We'll talk later." Mrs Garcia pointed to Stacey, disarming her of the hall monitor notebook and dismissing her.

Stacey walked past the teacher and gave a patronising parting wink to Megan.

"And Megan, I expected better of you. You have three months to go and I thought you'd get to the end of school without a detention. I'm disappointed in you."

Megan felt awful. She had ruined her perfect record in a moment of rage, and cost herself her opportunity to find the marker.

"Go back to class and sort your uniform out. Report to detention tonight. And don't you dare let me see you in the same room as Stacey for the rest of the day, or I'll send you home."

She made her way back to class, trying to ignore the even greater bounce on her chest as she walked.

The remainder of the lesson was a write-off as, by the end, Megan's breasts were pushing against the shirt that had been loose when she put it on that morning. She could hear scuffling behind her as an increasing number of students were noticing her new E-cups, doing nothing to alleviate her stress.

Her breasts were approaching the biggest size they could believably be on her otherwise skinny frame, and becoming a liability in both the attention they were attracting and to the integrity of her shirt. A couple of the buttons were beginning to pull tight on her chest, and it was a matter of time until she'd have to start answering difficult questions.

Thankfully, the bell rang, signifying the beginning of lunch. Megan had to decide quickly what to tackle first: finding a shirt that could contain her growth, or the riskier option: go straight to try to find the marker.