chapter 3

And summer break finally arrived. I graduated on the first weekend of June, and along with all my friends and family, we celebrated until the sun rose.
Mom got back on track with the pampering. The day I was a graduated high school student was the day she resumed her previous endeavors, for the day I would leave was steadily approaching.
Every day, I'd once again be given an enormous sum of food, and combined with my sudden drop in exercise, I began to pack on some weight. Sometime in June, I was just eating another box of doughnuts, when suddenly... POP! I saw my pants button flying, and my belly was unleashed from my shirt, slowly poking itself out. A year back, if something like this would happen, I'd probably be mortified, but now, for some odd reason, all I did was stare at my belly and patted it. I had fun eating, and if gaining weight happened to be a result from it, then I guess I'd have to like gaining weight too!
I hadn't swapped out for a new wardrobe ever since I got accepted to U MIchigan. We were going to go shopping a month before just in case I grew taller. Thankfully we waited, because I actually grew wider. Slowly, my wardrobe began to malfunction one article of clothing at a time. First it was my jeans, then it was another pair of jeans that tore when I bent down to pick up trash, and even a my t-shirt stretched, tearing the seams. I was delighted with each malfunction, and my parents didn't seem to care. I was growing up, after all.

I was eating a bowl of pasta, watching TV, until my younger brother, Cameron, interrupted me. He was in the tenth grade and looked a lot like me before March, but admittedly a bit chubbier.
"Looks like someone's having fun eating," he said, obviously annoyed.
"It's called the Freshman 15. It happens to everyone," I said trying to brush him off so I could finish my pasta, only to be offered desert moments later.
"Usually, you suffer from the Freshman 15 when you START college."
"It's different for everyone."
"No, it's-" Cameron paused, let out a sigh, and just said, "Forget it." And he left. I caught him eyeing my pasta throughout the entire conversation.