Chapter 5

Unfortunately, on that night two weeks before the end of that deviance class, I was stumbling home a little too buzzed, and Alana (aka Big Fat Cramming Pig) saw me. One of her fat hands was clutching a large and greasy bag of what I assumed was filled with burgers that she absolutely didn't need. As always, Alana's outfit choice was offensive. First of all, she was wearing pink yoga pants. I don't know when it was that fat girls thought it okay to start wearing yoga pants, but whoever gave them permission had committed a heinous crime against humanity. Yoga pants were for hot yoga butts, like the one my f*ck buddy Alisson had. Yoga pants were not for sea cows like Alana.

In addition to the pants, I noticed she was wearing what appeared to be a far too form-fitting white t-shirt that didn't hide the outline of her horrendously large stomach. It had some Japanese letters and weird-looking cartoons on the front of it, which I knew to be from one of those nerdy animes. Though admittedly, Alana had unknowingly turned me onto a manga about soccer that I later checked out, I didn't delve into the nerdisphere of Japanese culture beyond that.

What I wouldn't even call a redeeming quality about Alana's top was how low-cut it was, giving Alana's fat tits what seemed like an overcramed way to present themselves. I'd seen Alana wear shirts like this to class all the time freshman year, but given how poorly it fit, the fatty had clearly gotten fatter since she'd bought this particular shirt. In fact, it was hard to tell with someone that fat, but Alana looked even fatter now than she had at the start of this year's spring semester. To be fair, the last time I'd given Alana's disgusting body more than a few seconds of my attention had probably been around that time. If I had to guess, she looked at least 20 pounds heavier since then.

The entirety of Alana's presence was a gluttonous sight of obesity mixed with hoggishness that made me immediately cringe with disgust. The happy smile on her face as she waddled out of the burger joint was off-putting, given the context. The way her fat hands clung to those bags of calorie bombs she didn't deserve to be within several hundred miles of was sickening. It was no wonder this tubbo hadn't lost any weight in four years of college, no less put on even more. What a pathetic, fat f*cking mess.

I tried to pretend I didn't see her, but Alana called out my name. Given her fat hippo body was blocking half the sidewalk, I couldn't ignore her, so I smiled and waved. I thought the casual greeting should've been enough, but Alana couldn't help but waddle her porkster of a body towards me as her ponytail bounced with each step. I wasn't sure what I had done to give Alana the impression that I wanted to be friendly with her, but she started talking to me all the same.

"It's good to see you!" She chirped in a heavyset and friendly voice.

"Uh-huh." I curtly responded, nodding, hoping that was the end of the conversation, already looking past her to where I was in the middle of walking to.

Unfortunately for me, Alana kept talking. "It's so awesome that we got to be in the same class again this year, right?"

"Yeah." I said, trying to mask a sigh as I stopped in my tracks to engage. "It's been a while, hasn't it? Macroeconomics?"

"That's right!" She gleefully exclaimed. "Gee, and here I was thinking you forgot all about me."

"Well, I've got a good memory." Already over this pointless conversation, I started checking my phone, uninterested in even making eye contact with Alana.

"That's a relief. I really wanted to work with you on the final project this semester, ya know." Alana said eagerly, taking a step towards me and warmly smiling. I was too preoccupied with scowling at the fast food bag in her hand to notice her smile.

"Sorry about that." I lied. It was clear this girl wanted me or had a pathetic crush on me. Sadly, she had to know I was way out of her league. "Alison had already asked me to partner with her." I lied again. I remember waving off this hamplanet that first week of classes to snag Alison as a partner.

"Oh.. right, yeah. Alison. She's a cutie. I don't blame you for partnering with her." Alana said, with an awkward and nervous-sounding laugh at the end.

"Right, yeah." I responded dismissively. I couldn't help but notice something deeply unappealing that caught my eye for the first time. A few inches of pale flesh was hanging out the bottom of Alana's shirt. Alana was so fat that her stomach didn't fit into her oversized shirt. How anyone could be so clueless and shameless out in public frustrated me, probably to the point where I probably looked annoyed. Even more disgusting were the few silver and pink lines streaking over the curve of her lower stomach. Congratulations on the stretch marks, Fata*s.

"Well, I definitely miss talking to you. Maybe we can catch up sometime?"

"Uh...Maybe." I half-scoffed, not sure what exactly a girl like her and me would need to catch up on. I could tell she had ulterior motives and was probably making a last-ditch effort to secure a date with a guy she'd been crushing on since freshman year. Keep dreaming.

Unable to pick up on my heavy hints that I didn't want to engage further, Alana stubbornly pushed on. "If you're not too busy after class on Monday... do you like coffee? There is a doughnut place near campus that..."

I'd had enough. "Look, Alana, I really have to go." Honestly, my friendliness could only go so far. I was done talking to this fat loser and was more interested in texting Alison to see what she was doing.

"What?" Alana said with a quizzical inflection.

"I said I have to go." I said, losing more of my patience, already shuffling to the right to move past the blob.

"No... I mean.. you called me... Alana." Alana said slowly. Her voice had fallen a bit from the over-excitement I'd heard from her earlier, as if something was off.

"Yeah... I got that pronunciation, right, didn't I?" Even though I hadn't pushed past Alana, I was already looking at my phone. This girl had gotten enough of my charity by me talking to her, and pronouncing her name 'a-lane-a' or 'a-lan-a' wasn't my problem.

There was a long pause. "Umm... this is awkward... I'm not Alana." The girl said tepidly.

"Excuse me?" I said, caught off guard, looking up from my phone.

There was another long pause before Alana spoke again. "It's me... Cam."