chapter xii

Walking home, Philbert felt both tired and thrilled. The shift had gone more than well - Gertrude had even complimented him on learning how to use the cash register right away, something that had gotten her to fire most of her employees over the years.
Chewing on a donut the size of his face, Phil listened to his favorite '80s tunes while chatting with Scott. After a few minutes, however, he noticed a strange sensation between his thighs, a burning sensation he'd never experienced in his life.
He made it all the way to the stationery store next to his house before realizing (looking in the window) that his thighs, albeit slightly, were touching. Even though he was standing, even though he was wearing tight half-off jeans, Philbert's thighs were rubbing together. He observed the half-eaten donut in his hand and the crumbs that surrounded his mouth. He found himself tender.
He finished the rest of the donut in one bite and headed inside the house.
It was a special day: not only had he slayed his computer science test and had his first shift at work, but it was Ivy Day. His application to the University of Pennsylvania would be answered in a couple of minutes. As soon as he realized this, he felt the need to vomit. Gertrude had no problem making him taste every delicious dessert that came out of her magic oven, Phil even went so far as to hide in the bathroom after every couple of customers to destroy "the scraps", that is, the food that had dried out (by Gertrude's standards, a woman fixated on quality, even what was only remotely flawed deserved to be thrown away, and Phil definitely took advantage of that to get free stuff).
Between donuts, croissants and cakes, Phil had just realized how much he had eaten and especially how stupid he had been to have done so just before a panic-inducing event like an Ivy League response. Philbert was convinced he wasn't going to get admitted, he would have cheered even for a waitlist, but that still didn't allow him to calm down.
He trudged up the stairs, still full from the binge. He had to lean against the wall with his arm, feeling the sweat on his forehead and his breath getting shorter and shorter. Once inside the house, he absent-mindedly greeted his mother and headed for his room.
He had never turned on the computer so quickly. He sat down in front of the desk and opened the drawer. He pulled out a white chocolate bar and began to eat it as he logged into his profile on the UPenn portal. His heart was pounding so much it was about to disfigure his chest. His eyes fixed on the page he was uploading, the sweat that was soaking his armpits. And again, the chocolate exploding in his mouth making the moment even more vivid.
"Dear Philbert Beese," he started reading by himself, "the selection committee has completed its deliberations."
He took just a few seconds to understand where the message was going, but in Phil's head, it was much longer. He devoured the entire chocolate bar by the time he got to the last paragraph: "we hope this decision will allow you to consider the other opportunities that await you.”
With his hand resting on his bloated belly, it hit him that his application to UPenn wasn't the only thing stretching. As he looked down, he saw a little pot belly forming over the trousers. They were way too tight for him now, the waistband was cutting his body in half.
Sure, Philbert was sad, but he already knew he would be rejected. A sense of futility began to cover him like a soft blanket, so he decided to continue doing one of the few things he felt talented at: binge-eating.
He got up from his chair in a huff and walked over to the closet as he launched Pigler on his cell phone. He opened the wardrobe’s doors and bowed to grab the armored briefcase he had been hiding under his shirts for days. Just enough time to enter the combination and grab the first few snacks that the sound of the notification made him gasp like a madman.

"I heard you had an encounter with Carl."
Surfellah

As he read his encourager's name, Philbert moaned. He put two chocolate sticks in his mouth without thinking he could have choked to death. The Piggy brought himself to his knees and started oinking while shoving down other junk food.

"It was great".
PhilB

"I'm sure it was. Wanna come to mine?"
Surfellah

Philbert was so into his head that he didn't even check the guy's profile. He was this slim surfer who lived in Miami, even if the location shown in his profile was Indianapolis.

"I checked on Maps and from your town it's like forty minutes to get here."
Surfellah

Phil was torn. The man was alright, nothing that made him scream from pleasure... but he kind of needed some encouragement after that bad news. At the same time, it felt sketchy for him to take a train just to meet with a feeder who he has never spoken to before. He had his first shift, he didn’t have all his energy. At the same time, he felt like being a pig in front of an encourager would have made the day end in the best way
While downing a can of coke, he made up his mind.