Chapter 5

When Avery arrived at the diner, breathless, clad in her rugby uniform, there was something about her that stood out from the other two chubbettes who were squished into the booth. When she shook Melissa’s hand and gave Kennedy a cutesie wave, she easily fit into the booth without issue at all – a far gone memory for the fat best friends.
“I am so sorry, our I was on cleanup duty today.” Avery smiled. She was a short but broad-shouldered Latina lady of 20. Her shirt was speckled with mud and streaked with grass stains, but her warm eyes and shockingly bright teeth distracted from that. She had tiny freckles that spattered her nose and her bob-cut pulled back over her head in a tight but twisted pin-up.
“Before we start, can I just run and pee?”
“Of course!” Melissa said, her heart beating steadily at this kind girls inquiry. Watching her walk away, the two girls noticed for the first time Avery’s thick muscular frame. She had strong legs, a stocky backside and a very strong looking back.
“Jesus look at those calves!” Kennedy breathed as they watched the athlete tiptoe away. Something about her strong appearance completely contrasted her bubbly vibe. Mel’s heart was fluttering in a way she couldn’t quite read. There was a deep pulsing in her stomach tissue, and her mouth was suddenly quite dry. For a moment, she felt ashamed of her gluttony and obvious obese appearance. Kennedy ruptured this by clattering the empty pie tin across the table to the waitress and saying, “I didn’t like it.”
When Avery sashayed back over, she sat down and sighed. “Have you two eaten yet?”
“Not really –” Kennedy started.
“We have.” Mel corrected.
Avery grinned. “Do you mind if I get something then? I usually need to fill the tank after practice.”
“Be our guest!” Kennedy said in a shitty French accent.
They chatted while they waited for service; Avery was on rugby scholarship at a very impressive local school. She had moved out of residence and back with her family for the summer, but couldn’t keep up with the commute and needed somewhere local to land for the school year.
“So, what kind of stuff do you guys like to do?” Avery said, the hunger manifesting in her fingers drumming on the table.
Kennedy finally called across to their waitress. “Oh, Beatrice darling!”
Flustered and tired, she slopped over: “I swear, I’ve made this run a thousand times today girlies…”
“It’s for me this time.” Avery said decisively, producing a menu. “I’ll have the chicken fried steak, gravy and fries on the side, and then the large Caesar salad platter to start. Can I then get two double stacks of the waffles, as well as a side of sausages and … umm …” She slid her finger along the laminated menu. “Frick. What do you two think? Chocolate, strawberry, or vanilla shake? Actually, what am I thinking. Can you combine them? A Neapolitan shake? Just bring the blender with it over and I’ll pour myself as I go. How big are the kids burgers?”
In scribbling shock and awe, Beatrice showed Avery the size of her palm.
“Okay, two of those and an order of the kids’ chicken nuggets with mac ’n ’cheese.”
Beatrice nodded, running back to the kitchen in a frenzy to get things going.
Avery sheepishly raised her shoulders. She was very cutesie, in a childish way, like if someone put Dora the Explorer into an Iron Man competition.
“I know it’s piggish, but I gotta refuel after practice. Is it bad that I’ll probably have something later before bed too?”
Kennedy was still staring dumbly. She leaned forward. “No shot a someone your size can put away that much.”
Avery blinks, seemingly embarrassed or confused at the stupidity of the question. “I mean, I work up an appetite.”
Kennedy shifted her titanic weight on the seats and leaned her pillowcase forearms on the table. “If you can finish all that, I’ll knock $50/month off your portion of the rent, and you can move in Saturday.”
Melissa was getting a bad feeling. She recognized this look in her fat friend’s eye.
“I think we should talk about this first –” Mel began to interject, but Kennedy placed a hand on her fat forearm.
Avery smiled, a spark of competition lighting up mischievously within her. “Deal."