chapter 3

I visited Kaylee at least once a week. Her family had long since given up on her, and her other friends were all tweakers and didn't care about her. So, I could see her whenever her visiting hours and my schedule permitted.
A few weeks into her confinement, she said something that nearly caused me to ejaculate in my pants. I was staring into those bright brown eyes through the glass separating us. She kept telling me how thankful she was for me being there when she had lost everything. I reassured her that everything would be alright, and that she will only be rehabilitated.
"Ian, I will never be the same!" she cried. "Do you realize what they feed us in here? It's all carbs and fats. Beans for breakfast, bread with every meal, potatoes and some meat I can't even bare to eat for lunch, and chicken nuggets with bread, beans, and potatoes for dinner! It's the same every fucking day. And I can't even move because of these stupid casts... and even if I could, what would I do? Run around my cell? It's so hot and stuffy in there anyways, I don't know how anybody can keep up their figure in here. My cellmates all told me the same thing. They said almost every woman gains a lot of weight when they get locked up. I can't stand to think about that... I've never been fat ever."
I was speechless. My eyes wide, I stammered out, "Well.... when you get to prison, you will have a gym and be able to work out more... and besides, you could use a... little weight on you."
"A little weight, fine. But how long will I even be here? My trial isn't scheduled for six months. Six more fucking months of not being able to move at ALL. And fed this bullshit. I may have killed someone because I did some stupid shit, but does that mean I need to be fat?!" Kaylee began to cry.
"No, no. This doesn't mean you'll get fat. You have a good metabolism." My words only expressed my worst fear: that her months of sheer confinement would not cause her to gain any weight at all.

Not even a month after this conversation, I began to notice a double chin forming. Her cheeks were no longer sunk in, either. They had even surpassed the firmness they had back in high school- now they were starting to look a bit chubby. I could only imagine her body was beginning to look like.
"So, how long will you have those casts on for?" I asked.
"I saw the doctor a few days ago, and he said another two months. He said I'm not healing right because I haven't been getting adequate nutrition. So, I started actually eating all of the meals they give us."
"Oh, good! Yeah, that way you can get back to being active sooner!"
"Ian, what are you trying to say? Have you noticed that I've gained weight too?"
"What? No! You look the same to me, you just seem healthier," I replied.
She smiled and reached out to touch my hands. We each touched the glass and imagined that we were holding each other. I thought about how her back must be developing squishy layers of chub, and how lovely it would be to run my fingers all throughout her softening body.