chapter 3

The first week at home seemed to just drip away in a haze of laziness. Colin wore the same pair of sweat pants every day. By the following Friday, he had instituted a few rules for himself:

- No booze until 2pm.
- Try to stick to three meals a day, and snacks only after dinner.
- No belts.

Colin was doing a really good job with the third rule - the first two were failing. He felt bloated and sluggish all the time, pounding back beers and whatever wine his parents had stocked up in the basement. The weather in Lane County at Christmas time was for sure beautiful, but Colin was only leaving to go stock up on booze and grab takeout.

He had been flirtatiously texting Stacey, hoping to lock her down for some sort of easy holiday hookup. His courage certainly was higher when he was drunk and full of food, and he managed to sneak a few dirty pictures out of the trim waitress.

"When can I finally get to have some one-on-one time with those in person??" he had drunkenly sent off the night before. Stacey's work schedule was constant, as she was saving up for a car after the holidays. It seemed every day leading up to the Christmas break was booked for her. Colin didn't mind waiting - in fact, he looked forward to her dirty pics and his nights alone, talking to her over the phone.

As he sat slumped forward on his bed, Colin noticed perhaps Stacey wasn't the only one sporting an impressive chest these days. His own pecs hung full and fat on his gut, with thick rolls bunching up at his sides. The man had not stopped eating and drinking since he got home, and refused to participate in any exercise. He had figured out how to hook up his old Xbox and was firing through old games from his childhood. The Cheeto dust on his controllers were admittedly getting out of hand.

"Colin! Your dad and I are going for a walk! Will you join us?"

Colin sighed as he slopped out of his bed and rumbled toward the door. "Nah, think I'm gonna hit a nap!"

There was a pause. Then, Rita's voice again:

"I'd like you to come with us, please. It's the holidays, and some family time and fresh air would be nice."

He pressed his head against the door frame. He knew he should go, he just ... didn't want to.

Then, his dad's voice: "We'll walk to that cafe and grab a coffee and a pastry. It'll be nice!"

Colin agreed, and started sliding on his socks - something that felt surprisingly difficult. Throwing on a sweater that sat almost too short on his belly, he lumbered downstairs and grabbed his coat.

The red puff winter jacket he had brought along zipped up, but constricted his chest and gut in such a way that he could hear the gears popping as he forced the winterwear over his bloated belly. Damn, he thought, have I really overdone it that much in the last week?

The family moved out into the cold and walked along the pretty neighbourhood streets. Rita insisted on taking the long way, and by the time they had arrived at the bakery, Colin's stomach was screaming for sustenance.

"I'll get this, you guys! What do you want?" Colin popped forward in the queue and took his parents' orders. "Go get us a seat somewhere."

His mom noted his kind tone and shivered off towards a booth in the back.

Colin sidled up to the cash.

"Hey. Two Americanos, black; a cherry danish and a slice of the baklava."

"Is that everything?" The nasal voiced barista chimed cheerfully.

Colin sniffed and started again. "Can I get a caramel frappucino, whole milk, and then two of the eclairs please. Oh, and that turkey club."

The barista loaded up Colin's tray. Then he spotted it: a thick, tiered red velvet cake. It was only 6" around, but it looked heavenly.

"How much for the whole cake?" He blurted.

"$25.99. You want it?"

"Yeah. It's my mom's birthday and I think I should get something."

The barista smiled kindly at Colin, and eyed him up and down quickly. The bundled up boy noticed the thin man check him out, spotting his sweat pants and trunk legs. He slid the cake box and bags of pastries over to him.

"Take this number and we'll bring your drinks over shortly."

Colin thanked him and stuffed the eclairs into his jacket pocket. He carried the sweets and sandwich over to the table where his parents sat.

"Gotta hit the head, I'm bursting!" Colin left his parents and snuck into the single use handicap bathroom. He locked the door.

With a great sigh and groan he undid his coat. His belly pushed out, and he rubbed his sore red marks caused by the zipper. Hastily, he dug into his pockets and immediately began shoving eclair into his mouth. He was so hungry, and the near hour long walk and pushed through his lunch time. Well, first lunch time of the day.

The thick pastry and cream slid down his throat with little effort. His jaw worked hard to chomp and chew as fast as possible. He wanted to be done so as not to be suspicious, but his ravenous hunger also sped him along.

He moaned and caught his breath as he finished the second eclair. He knew the sandwich was waiting for him outside. Cleaning up his face, and flushing the toilet so as to stick to his story, he left the bathroom belly-first.

They sat and had lunch with ease, talking about work and neighbours and Colin's new apartment and how he would decorate it. His parents took no note to his sandwich, and his mom seemed sold on the cake.

"It's the holidays. I lied and said it was your birthday - it'll last us the week for dessert!"

Rita didn't agree with her son's timeline.

As they got up to head back, Colin patted his gut and drained his coffee. He left his jacket unzipped for the amble back - he had learned his lesson.

In the corner, two girls sat close together. They were about Colin's age, dressed in matching jeans and turtleneck outfits. One eyed up the large lad as he moved like a bull through the main aisle and towards the door.

"Is that...is that Colin Manning?"

The other turned. "Fuck, I hope not."

"It totally is. Look at the size of him."

"Happens to guys at his age. No one is immune."

"Yeah, but he has a BELLY. It's not even a dad bod."

"Shame. He was cute in high school."

"This is just the way things go for guys like him. Beer and wings and a steady job...and they just balloon."

They eyed his fat ass as he shuffled out of the coffee shop.

"What has he done to himself?"

"More like what is he ~doing~ to himself?"

"Ugh. What a waste."