chapter 4

Claire hadn’t said a word about what she had seen in the bathroom as Rory continued to eat, hastily stuffing down cold leftovers from the fridge, his nose halfway in a styrofoam container of orange chicken when she had greeted him again. He looked at his phone and made some sort of comment about what time it was, before they gathered their things and headed back to the truck.

The drive out to the access road was fairly brief, but a few minutes into the drive Rory’s stomach grumbled, sending vibrations through his body that Claire, still pinned, felt clearly. He placed a hand on his midsection and whined instinctively, then blushed, looking embarrassed.

“Sorry, I just, uh…”

“You want me to grab you something?”

Claire lifted one of the plastic bags full of snacks that had been packed at Rory’s apartment and placed it on her lap. The pile of junk food felt heavier than she anticipated. Rory looked relieved and, glancing down from the road, pointed at a package of chocolate bars, which she promptly gave up. With one hand on the wheel, he tore open the wrapper with his teeth and, in the fifteen minutes between there and the access road, had devoured half-a-dozen of them, flakes of chocolate and peanut butter and caramel sticking to his chin and bouncing across his chest. He barely chewed while he ate, rather, opting to swallow them two bites at a time, as if the quality of the food mattered much less than having as much of it inside of him as physically possible.

Out on the access road, the lights of the city receded into a low spread of glistening dots, shining upwards into the atmosphere. Rory pulled the truck up onto a shrub-covered side lane, and they got out into the darkness. All around were rolling waves of tall grass, hushing and rustling in the cool breeze that sailed up from the lake, and overhead, the sky was full of stars. A mile or so away was the waterpark, its towers brightly illuminated and still crowded with people.

Rory made his way around to the back of the truck and pulled the tailgate down with a thud, then tossed a couple cushions from the vehicle’s cabin into the bed. Wordlessly, he took the plastic bags out of Claire’s arms and started to unload the snacks. With some effort, Claire lifted herself up onto the truck and scooted back a bit, giving Rory space. He turned and leaned against the tailgate, then slowly and carefully hoisted himself onto it. The vehicle groaned and tilted in response, and once again Claire was forced to steady herself. He scooted back, breathing heavily and causing his belly to sway with each movement, then exhaled as he made himself comfortable.

“This - huff - alright? I got some pillows there.”

Claire flashed a friendly smile. “Pillows would be great, thanks.”

Rory leaned forward and, grunting, reached for a box of Mallomars, struggling against the mass of his mountainous belly. Chuckling, Claire pushed them towards him, and gathered the snacks so they’d be in arm’s reach. “Thanfth”, he said, unwrapping his treat with one swift movement of his fingers before cramming the marshmallow into his mouth.

For a moment they simply sat in the silence, broken only by Rory’s frequent chewing and swallowing. Claire looked up at the sky, at the stars, and tried to figure out if she could recall any constellations besides the Big Dipper. The truck rocked a bit as Rory reached for a box of donuts, and he wasted no time tucking in, feasting on them as if he hadn’t eaten in days. He clutched them in his icing-covered hands two at a time, taking alternating bites of jam-filled and chocolate-dipped, each bite bulging his neck ever so slightly as his throat muscles worked the calories down. His lack of hesitation fascinated Claire; he seemed to eat with so much pleasure, so much need. Every mouthful of food was necessary, every gulp to be treasured.

It wasn’t until the sixth donut that Claire realized that she was both entirely captivated and obviously staring. Rory caught her gaze and faltered, a sticky paw halfway in the box, unwrapping itself from an apple fritter. He looked at the donuts, and then back up at Claire, embarrassed.

“I, uh…” Sinking back, he started to close the lid of the box.

There was suddenly a rushing in Claire’s ears, and before she could stop herself, before she even knew what she was saying, the words came out – “Keep going.”
Rory stared at her, and Claire stared back. Her body was completely stiff. Time seemed to slow down. The grass would rustle endlessly, the night stars would burn forever, and the fireworks would never come. She would simply be stuck here, in this moment of torturous suspense, until the universe collapsed.

Slowly, illuminated by the lights in the distance, Rory smiled. He opened the box, picked out the apple fritter, and took a bite. Claire grinned.

“I knew you were over six hundred.”

Rory chewed his first bite for only a moment before opening his mouth for another. “You saw that? I’m kinda proud, actually.”

“You should be.”

He stuffed the rest of the donut in his maw, chewing forcefully. “I -mrfh- work hard for it.”

“I can see that, big guy,” Claire said, glancing down at Rory’s belly. His face beamed in response. “It shows.”

“Hand me that six-pack there.”

Claire passed him the pack of beer. Rory pulled one out and cracked it open, and leaned back on his hand, chugging with the other. He hesitated for a moment and then belched, deeply and unabashedly, crushing the can and tossing it aside, before looking back over at the girl sitting next to him. He put his arm out and patted the floor. Claire instinctively scooted over and Rory held her against him, cracking open another beer. She’d been pressed up against his side before, but never with his strong, bulky arm around her. Again, she was stuck, and again, she rested her hand on Rory’s belly, fingering the taut fabric of the jersey. Rory finished his beer and burped again, low and rolling and bassy, crinkling up the can and lobbing it over his shoulder.

“D’you want something to eat, by the way?” he asked, brushing crumbs from his jersey. “Just realized that it’s kinda rude of me not to offer.”

Claire giggled and looked up at Rory’s face. It was hard to make out in the darkness, but she could still see the plumpness of his cheeks, the way that little tuft of hair lay unkempt atop his head.

“I’m good, honestly,” she responded, twirling her finger atop his jersey. “I… I’d rather watch you eat, if… if that’s alright.”

“Suit yourself,” Rory grunted, shrugging his shoulders. “I won’t complain. More for me.”

A moment of silence fell between them, and Claire realized for the first time that she could hear crickets chirping in the distance.

“You know… I was kinda nervous,” Rory said.

Claire looked up at him, incredulous. “You were nervous?”

He laughed. “Well, I mean… you never know, right? I mean, you never know for sure, if somebody’s going to be into this kind of thing.”

“What made you think you might be right?”

“Well… I dunno.” He scratched the stubble on his chins. “You did stare in class, sometimes. I didn’t know exactly why, but you were pretty cool with the whole, you know, lack of space at the bus stop, so I kinda figured, maybe… What about you?”

Claire lifted her hand and rested it on the swell of Rory’s chest, close to his heart. “Nobody gets as huge as you do on accident.”

“Uh, they definitely do.”

“But you seemed so okay with it.”

Rory chuckled. “You could say so.”

“How did you do it, anyways?”

“Do what? I eat.”

“Yeah, but…” Claire gestured at the pile of snacks at their feet, easily enough food to feed a family for several days. “On a college budget… that can’t be cheap.”

He grinned at her. “It’s… kind of bad of me, really.”

“What is?”

Rory cleared his throat. “Okay, so. I’ve got a college fund, right? An inheritance thingy, from my grandparents. And it figures over two thousand bucks a month for rent.” He shrugged, the fat on his neck bulging. “So I figured, you know, I could spend that on better things, right? Do I really need a two thousand dollar apartment?”

“How much do you pay?” Claire asked.

“Less than half that. And,” he continued, “I get another thousand on top for expenses.”

He belched again, this one seemingly slipping past his lips by surprise. Claire did the math in her head. Two thousand a month for food was a number almost too high to contemplate; it was nearly ten times her own budget. Rory’s hand squeezed her waist gently as if in response.

“Hand me those cookies, cutie.”