Sami has always had a nice figure. Trim waist, perfect bone structure. Not to mention a very beautiful face. And, not to take anything away from her overall appearance, but her breasts were always a little bit on the small side. It was one reasons why, although she was a cheerleader, she was one of the lowest-ranking ones in your school.

Growing up, the two of you were good friends, always hanging out and doing things together. Over the years, you developed a crush on her. You don't think she ever picked up on it, but in the back of your mind, you desperately wanted to tell her how you felt.

As she sits down, she gives you a smile. You smile back, watching as she takes her seat. The two of you haven't been able to spend much time together lately, mostly because she's a cheerleader now and you're...well, let's just say you're not one of the popular kids.

She always calls you a few times a week, just to see how you're doing. You think it's a sweet gesture. Whenever she calls, it reminds you that she hasn't devolved into the snobby, stuck-up personality the other cheerleaders at your school seem to display on a daily basis. She's still one of your true friends.

As class goes by and the teacher drones on about American History, you find your mind drifting and your eyes drifting, as well. You try to peer over your friend's shoulders, to see what she's writing.

"And if you'll compare both the post Revolutionary War-era to the post Civil War-era, I think you'll see..." the teacher said, unenthusiastically.

A few seconds later, Sami holds up the sheet of paper she was writing on. It shows a stick figure holding a gun up to his head, ready to blow his brains out. While in big letters beside the drawing, Sami wrote: "This class is SO boring. Somebody shoot me."

She looks back at you and laughs silently, trying not to get noticed by the teacher. You do the same. Ah, writing notes. The only real form of communication the two of you had during school hours.

Sami puts the paper back down on her desk and starts taking notes about whatever it is the teacher was talking about. Your mind wanders over the fact that Sami is one of the lowest-ranking cheerleaders in school. It's because of her small breasts, you figure. They were only B cups, though full B's. Some of the top girls were close to DD's.

You decided to help your friend out. Using your newfound powers, you concentrate on making Sami's breasts grow a few cup sizes. You close your eyes and imagine them growing at least to a full D size.

Seconds later, you hear Sami gasp and you look up to see what was happening. She has her hand over her chest and watches in amazement as the fleshy mounds fill out her shirt. She's wearing a regular t-shirt and as the seconds go by, the fabric of the shirt begins to stretch, making her breasts stand out even more prominently.

About thirty seconds later, you notice Sami remove her hand. Apparently, the process was over. She experimentily shrugs her shoulders a few times, watching the now massive orbs bob up and down. She looks around and sees her other classmates busy taking notes. Luckily, no one saw what happened.

Sami turns back to you, a shocked expression on her face. "My breasts just grew!" she whispers frantically.

What do you do?