chapter 2

It became a daily ritual for Joseph to stop by PB's lunch table and torment him. It would last how long it took him to eat all of PB's lunches, which seemed to be getting larger and higher in fatty foods. PB was no fool. If Joseph wanted to eat like a big fat ape, he'd end up looking like one.

After a few weeks of this Vick and Johnny Davis had had enough. PB wasn't actually all that bad and they saw Joe's vendetta against him as something he'd have to take care of himself.

The banter between the two was still rude and pointed, but was becoming more conversational. PB began pointing out how soft Joseph was getting. "I am not getting soft you ***ing pansy." Joseph momentarily stopped eating one of three sloppy joes. That day PB had also gotten a double serving of tater tots, two colas, and a banana.

"You eat your own lunch every day and then work your way over here to eat all of my food," PB said with a knowing smirk. "If I didn't know any better I'd say you had a big gay crush on me and was using this as an excuse to sit with me."

"Yeah, right," Joseph said as his face reddened.

Joseph was 6'2", taller than PB, and weighed in during summer training for football at 200 pounds. That number was likely going up, however. He lifted weights with the guys every day, and his muscles were large and beefy, but he did lack definition like the great Schwarzenegger. He had a poster of Mr. Olympia in his bedroom as something to aspire to.

Joe had masturbated once or twice to the poster but he chalked it up to the admiration he had for Arnold's body, not to being a homosexual.

PB was about 5'11" and 165 pounds. He did enjoy dressing fashionably and was a shoo-in for best dressed in the yearbook. He'd also probably win best smile and most likely to succeed. PB was hardworking and strived to do his best at whatever he participated in. His mother was one of the few black women in their town of Melville. She had married his father at 18 years old.

PB's dad was an Irish immigrant who was currently overseas at his ailing mother's bedside. PB knew he was attractive but tried his best not to be conceded. He was in fact gay, but he had no intention of revealing that to anyone. He couldn't imagine the torment he'd get for being half-black and gay in the south.

"Joseph, really, it's been over a month," PB said as he watched his lunch demolished in front of him. "I get you don't like me, but this is getting kind of ridiculous."

"Ah, you can't handle it, huh?" Joe replied shoving a cookie into his mouth. His hand rubbed his full belly.

"I can't handle how expensive it is feeding you--," PB mumbled.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, don't worry about it." This particular lunch period PB had purchased a double order of fries, two chocolate milks, three cheeseburgers, and a package of cookies. He was blowing through all the money he had saved from his summer job.

Joseph would eat the hearty lunch his mother packed for him every morning and then all the food PB provided. He liked feeling full. He liked it because it made him feel heavy, and the heavier he was the more mass he held. He assumed he was becoming more and more like Mr. Olympia. At night he had thirds, and more recently, fourths at supper. His mother always made a lot of food, as a homemaker with a hungry husband and three boys, but it was becoming harder and harder to keep up with Joseph's appetite.