“Beat you again, dude!” Nick laughed as his body slammed against the locker immediately inside the locker room door.

“Aww, come on! You don’t have as much weight to carry around as I do,” Billy contested, though it didn’t look like he was too upset about it. “You’re way too fast for me.” He already had his T-shirt half off, his bulky body filling the wife-beater he wore underneath.

“Jesus, Billy,” Nick exclaimed, having quickly captured his breath, “you get bigger every time I see ya!” In the last two months alone, Billy had packed on about 15 pounds and it looked like most of that was muscle. Add to that the fact that he had grown another two inches in height and he looked like a truck…and he had only just turned 13 a couple of weeks ago. His arms had thickened with brawn, his shoulders had expanded noticeably and he was starting to beef up – his chest was now about the same size as his waist. Billy Freeman was no longer a chunky kid; he was now a hefty pre-teen. And it made Nick wonder how big he was going to get by high school. “Man, you’re diesel!” he continued.

“Yeah, I was 5’7” and 156 pounds this morning,” Billy stated proudly. He puffed out his broad chest, the fabric of the wife-beater stretching to make room for his swelling pecs.

Just then, Ian entered the room along with the rest of the class. He glanced at Billy and Nick briefly before brushing past them to his locker.

“Hey, Ian,” Nick spoke up, getting his attention, “where have you been lately? Billy and I miss ya, man.” Ian had been rather distant recently. I mean, he was still in the same classes and all, but he didn’t hang out nearly as much as he used to. He would go home immediately after school without saying a word. Frankly, it was starting to make Nick question what was up.

“Nowhere,” Ian answered curtly. It didn’t seem like he was pissed off or anything; maybe he was just in a bad mood. The guy was finally starting to grow up physically – you know, entering into his growth spurt – and that probably had something to do with it. Nick would have to ask him about it later.

Ian calmly slid his shirt over his head. Yep, he did look bigger; he was an inch or two taller and his shoulders looked fuller than they used to be – gone were the bony twigs. Plus, it looked like he was also beginning to get muscles. Shallow contours were visible on his arms and chest where before there was nothing. See, Nick thought contentedly, I told him he’d start catching up to Billy and me.

“Ian,” he called over, “you’re looking good.” Ian instantly looked up, a semi-puzzled look on his face. “You working out?” He was obviously doing something.

Ian shrugged, seemingly a little surprised by the question. “Yeah,” he answered, a small crack of a smile appearing, “that and I’m taking some stuff to get bigger.”

“You mean, like creatine?” Billy piped up. Nick grinned; he knew Billy had been taking supplements and no doubt that helped him be as huge as he was. Plus, the guy ate nearly everything he could get his hands on. “That’s what I do!” he said proudly.

“Yeah,” Ian nodded, suddenly back to his former jovial self. “I’ll be big like you soon,” he joked, flexing his biceps. A small round bump popped out from under his skin. Nick had to admit it looked pretty good, though nowhere near as impressive as his.

“That looks awesome,” Billy commented, “but check this out.” And then, he showed off his own arms. He still had a considerable amount of fat on them, but beneath that was definitely muscle. His arms shifted heavily as he flexed; those muscles were strong enough to move that fat out of the way.

“Yeah, but you haven’t seen anything,” Nick butted in and expertly stripped his shirt off, joining in the show. All the boys in the locker room gasped in awe as Nick displayed his ripped – no, shredded – torso for everyone to see. At 5’6” and 129 pounds, he hadn’t added that much size in the last two months, but he had certainly added definition. Every single muscle fiber and tendon twitched at the slightest move he made. And the veins in his forearms were like a roadmap, even when he wasn’t pumped! Nick looked like a page out of an anatomy book. JP had told him he had fabulous genetics and sure enough, muscles he didn’t even know he had were starting to show themselves. Plus, with his tiny waist – only 25 inches! – his shape looked amazing. That new weight bench was working wonders! He couldn’t wait to work out on it and get bigger.

“Whoa, Nick!” Billy said, “Look at your abs! They’re sick!”

“You think so?” he replied. “Check this out.” He tightened his stomach. Instantly, the six perfect sections become even deeper and more condensed. Billy’s eyes practically flew out of his head. He didn’t have to look closely to see them anymore; they were right there, whether you wanted to see them or not. Simply put, Nick’s torso was flawless; his obliques slashed sharply down toward his crotch, his serratus muscles were clearly etched as if out of stone and even his lats – a new discovery to Nick – were visible from behind his slender, striated pecs.

“Man, look at his legs,” one boy squeaked from behind Billy. Nick glanced down at his thighs. Yeah, they were starting to get ripped, too. JP had started him on a few leg exercises and already the results were showing. The ridges of his thighs were increasingly becoming more noticeable and even faint teardrops were appearing on his quads.

“Yeah, but if you really want to see a pair of wheels, check out Billy’s,” he returned, pointing toward his larger classmate. Billy dropped his shorts to a chorus of whoas. Indeed, his legs were mammoth, almost twice the size of anyone else’s, including Nick’s. Of course, they had none of his definition, but they were just as thick as the rest of him. Nick could only shake his head at what he was seeing, but there was something else that none of the other guys had noticed, or at least dared to mention. Between those gigantic gams – and hidden underneath his briefs – was a prominent bulge. Nick gulped as he stared at it. Shit, he said to himself, I thought I was hung. It was fully covered, but sure enough, Billy’s manhood seemed to be even bigger than Nick’s…and his was six and a half inches!

“Dude,” someone commented, “you could probably beat up any eighth grader who challenged you.” Billy blushed at the thought of doing such a thing.

“Nah,” Nick answered for him, “he’s too nice. He would never do that. Would you?” He clapped Billy on his wide back. The boy nodded. Yeah, he wasn’t one to get into fights.

Suddenly remembering him, Nick looked over at Ian to see his reaction to all of this, but he had already gone. He shrugged and grabbed his gym shirt to put on. It was the same one he had been wearing since September and it fit snugly across his torso. Damn, it felt awesome! He liked how he was able to see the outline of his pecs through the material and how the sleeves rode up on his arms, showing off the horseshoe cuts of his triceps perfectly. It reminded him a bit of a wrestling singlet – leaving almost nothing to the imagination.

Billy shoved his own gym shirt on, struggling to get it over his large chest. He almost couldn’t. It pulled tightly against his pecs and upper back. And the sleeves barely contained his huge shoulders.

“Uh, Billy,” Nick chuckled, “I think you might need a new one.”

“No, its ok,” he smiled. “I like how it feels.” Nick grinned, knowing exactly what he meant. “Let’s go,” Billy grunted, reaching over to his locker to close it. RRRIP! Suddenly, a loud ripping sound echoed through the room. Nick looked up to see a large tear around the back of Billy’s shoulder – right along the seam – exposing his skin beneath.

“Oh, snap!” Nick shouted. Billy had literally burst out of his gym shirt; he was too big for it! Billy seemed a little embarrassed at first, but the other boys, including Nick, found it hilarious. “Billy,” he cried, stifling hysterical laughter, “you really are becoming a hulk!”

Then, Billy smiled and flexed his arms and upper back. RRRRIP! RIP! His other sleeve tore completely in two – making it more like an armband than a sleeve – and small holes suddenly appeared along the neckline in back. The class erupted in laughter, Billy among them. RRIP! The first tear spread even further.

“Darn,” he chuckled, “I must have grown since the last time we had gym.” Then, without thinking, he twisted his body...RRRRRRIP!...causing one of the holes in his back to split down his spine.

“Dude,” Nick gasped, “let me get the coach before you tear that thing to shreds!” And he ran toward the coach’s office.

“Coach, you wanted to see me?” Ryan stuck his head in the football coach’s office doorway. Was he gonna finally move him up to the starting line next season?

“Come in and sit down, Maloney,” he answered, not even bothering to look up from the paperwork on his desk. Ryan obeyed and aloofly took his seat in the chair across from the man. After a brief moment, the coach put down the paper and looked at Ryan seriously.

“We’re going to have to let you off the team.”

WHAT!?! Ryan blinked, not sure if he had heard him correctly. Then, he started smiling. “Coach, April’s Fools was almost two months ago,” he joked, maybe a tad condescendingly.

“No, I’m being serious.” Ryan immediately stopped smiling. “I don’t know how else to tell you this, except to tell you bluntly.” He sighed. “We found some ecstasy and coke among your football equipment.” Ryan’s eyes shot up to the coach’s. But that stuff wasn’t mine, he thought, how did it get in there? “Son, I understand you want to have fun while in college, but there has to be separation between that and football.”

“But that stuff—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” the coach stopped him. “You know the NCAA has a zero-tolerance policy on illegal substances found on collegiate athletes. They’ve already cracked down on two schools in our conference alone. The university simply can’t afford that kind of publicity.” Ryan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. There had to be some kind of explanation. “Now listen,” the coach continued, “I’ve spoken with the president and the athletic director and we’ve decided to make you a deal.” He shifted uneasily in his seat, obviously not happy with what he had to say. “We are willing to drop any and all drug charges against you…if you agree to leave the team citing poor academic performance…” the coach looked away for a second “…which apparently is true anyway.”

“Coach,” Ryan protested, “you can’t do this to me!”

“Maloney,” the man stared at him sternly, “I would take this deal if I were you. You’re getting out easy. It’s the lesser of two evils.” Ryan laid his head against his fingers and closed his eyes. What the fuck?

“Fine,” he stated. The coach looked almost as disappointed as Ryan felt.

“Ok,” he said, “turn your uniform and your equipment in by the end of the week.” He stood up and went over to a filing cabinet. “You may go,” he uttered, not even looking at Ryan anymore.

Ryan got up and slowly headed for the door. As soon as it was closed behind him, he leaned against the wall. How the hell did that just happened? How did those drugs get in my stuff? Who would have…wait…no, that’s impossible.

Erin stepped in front of her bedroom mirror, checking for any folds in her dress. It was the night of the eighth grade dance, the biggest night of her social career and she had to look perfect. Chrissy had helped her pick out this black skirt a month ago and now it was feeling a tad tight – but only around the bust. Her breasts must have grown a little. Well, better that than her hips or waistline.

Erin knew that at 14, she was a knockout. Kim kept telling her how jealous she was that she never had to deal with acne or fat rolls or anything. Obviously, she didn’t have the genes that Erin had. I mean, with brothers as gorgeous as Ryan and JP, that had to be what it was.

Heading to the bathroom, she walked stiffly. She hated wearing tight dresses, but she had to uphold her reputation among the eighth graders as the most popular girl at Lincoln Middle School…and that meant showing off why. But of course with that territory came the seemingly constant heckling from boys. That’s why she decided to go stag; none of the guys her age were worth spending any amount of time with, much less an entire night. God, how she longed to find her man like JP apparently had.

Erin smiled at her reflection. Every time she thought of her brother as being gay, it made her want to laugh. He certainly didn’t fit the stereotype…which was probably better. She couldn’t imagine going to him for makeup tips. Speaking of which…

Erin opened up her medicine cabinet and picked out several cosmetics. Looking at herself again in the mirror, she wondered which shade of eye shadow fit best with the dress she was wearing. Damn, she hated wearing makeup almost as much as she hated wearing tight skirts. Putting the eye shadows down on the vanity, she walked back out into the hall. Where was Chrissy? Probably in the basement where JP and Matt were working out, she answered herself. Quickly, but carefully so as not to ruin the dress, she went downstairs. As she approached the gym, she heard voices. It sounded like they were talking about Danny Tranh, Chrissy’s new boyfriend.

“Chrissy?” she piped up, making sure to stand outside of the gym. She knew how much it was her brother’s domain.

“What is it, hon?” she answered, looking suddenly over at her as if just out of a daze.

“I need you to tell me which color eye shadow will go best with this dress,” she said, ogling Matt fondly. He was shirtless and had obviously been working out, sweat glistening angelically off his body. Fuck, he was hot! And he looked bigger than in those pictures Erin had discovered on JP’s computer. He had big, broad shoulders, bulging arms, sexy abs, and those eyes…wow! Of course, he had to be gay, right?

“Ok, I’ll be right up,” Chrissy chimed sweetly. Erin turned on her heels – but not before stealing one more glance at a topless Matt Andersson – and headed back upstairs. Behind her, she heard Chrissy flirt, “I’ll catch up with you two hunks later.”

Oh, if only she knew…

Ryan stormed up the stairs to his dorm, pushing past anyone in his way. He wasn’t in the mood for any sex in the hallway tonight. He burst into his room, practically breaking the door jamb in the process. Dave, sitting at his computer, nearly jumped out of his seat, a look of complete fear on his face.

“Why the fuck did you do that?” Ryan yelled as beads of sweat already started pouring down Dave’s forehead.

“Why the fuck did I do what?” he trembled. Ryan grabbed him out of his chair with one muscled arm and shoved him hard up against the closet. Dave winced.

“Why the fuck did you put that shit in my football stuff?” he hissed.

“What shit?”

“Don’t fuckin’ play with me,” Ryan screamed, giving his roommate another shove for emphasis. Dave was almost at the point of crying.

“I…I mean…”

“WHY!?!”

“I didn’t—”

“Don’t give me that shit!” Ryan went on, ignoring his pleas. “I’ve seen you at parties all high and shit. I know you have the stuff. It could’ve only been you!”

“No—”

“You were jealous, weren’t you?” Ryan roared, smirking disgustedly. “You couldn’t stand seeing me get all that pussy and you getting nothing. Is that it?” Dave couldn’t answer; he was too scared. “Just being around me wasn’t enough. You had to be like me!” He shot him his look of death. Dave tried to turn his head, but Ryan just clutched his jaw tightly, forcing him to take it full on.

“Uhhh—”

“Fuck, I know you’ve been screwing Brionna, as if you were me.” Ryan leaned in even closer. “But that still wasn’t good enough, was it?” Dave looked like he could barely breathe. “WAS IT!?!”

“Mmmph—”

“So you decided to get me kicked off the football team! You thought that would fuck me up!” Then, he lowered his voice to a piercing whisper. “But you forgot one thing…I can still fuck you up even worse.” And with that, he began beating the crap out of his roommate.

“Mr. Jansen?” Brionna sauntered glibly into the office. Mr. Jansen looked up expectantly.

“Did you do it?” he asked, grinning diabolically.

“Of course,” Brionna replied, flicking her hair over her shoulder.

“Great, here’s the money,” and he handed her an envelope. “How did you do it?”

Tapping the envelope against her fingers, Brionna shrugged. “It was easy. I just planted some stuff in Ryan’s football bag and let university politics play itself out.” She made it sound like the simplest thing in the world.

“And he would never suspect you, right?”

She nodded. “He thinks his roommate did it.”

Mr. Jansen chuckled. “I owe you one, Brionna,” he crooned, raising his eyebrows alluringly.

“No problem,” she replied, casually turning her back to head toward the door. “By the way,” she turned back, “why did you want Ryan kicked off the team?”

Mr. Jansen smiled. “The boy’s my biggest asset at this agency. He lost a lot of jobs during football season because he wasn’t staying cut.” He shrugged innocently. “I’m just trying to make a profit here.”

Brionna shook her head in mock rebuke. “You’re so bad,” she teased and slunk silently out the door. •