Piggy

Chapter 1 - College

The restaurant buzzed around them, but the tension at the table felt almost tangible. Haley sat stiffly, tugging at the hem of her too-tight shirt, trying to shift in her seat without drawing attention to herself. Her size 18 pants dug cruelly into her stomach, the rolls pressing against the waistband and making every breath a reminder of the discomfort she had brought on herself.

“Did you see the new yoga class opening up downtown?” Lily said, her voice bright and casual, speaking to Sara but glancing briefly at Haley.

Sara smirked, not bothering to include Haley in the conversation. “Yeah, it looks fun. We should check it out.”

Haley shifted again, pretending to be interested but focused entirely on the painful pressure of her bra digging into her back fat. They’re not even talking to me, she thought bitterly. Why would they? Look at me. I’m disgusting.

When the food arrived, Haley didn’t wait for the others. She picked up her burger and began eating quickly, taking large bites and swallowing without fully chewing. She could feel the food hit her stomach, the brief satisfaction of eating momentarily dulling her shame.

Lily glanced at Haley out of the corner of her eye, watching her chew aggressively. Does she even taste it? Lily thought. She’s going to finish before we’ve even started. She took a delicate sip of her drink and looked at Sara, who was carefully cutting her salad into smaller bites. Haley had already moved on to her fries.

Sara’s jaw tightened as she watched Haley eat. It’s disgusting, honestly. How can someone let themselves go this much? And that shirt—does she not feel it riding up? She could see Haley’s rolls spilling over the top of her pants, her belly exposed as she leaned forward, completely unaware.

Haley finished her meal first, as always, and sat back with a soft sigh, her hands resting on her stomach. The waistband of her pants bit into her skin, and she felt the fabric stretching under the strain. I look like a cow, she thought bitterly. They must think I’m disgusting.

Lily broke the silence with a polite laugh. “You were hungry, huh, Haley?” she said, trying to keep her tone light but unable to hide the slight edge in her voice.

Haley’s face flushed. “Yeah, I guess so,” she mumbled, reaching for her water and avoiding eye contact. She could feel her stomach pressing against her shirt, the rolls exposed, and for a moment she wondered if they noticed. But she quickly pushed the thought away. If they don’t say anything, maybe they don’t see it.

Sara arched an eyebrow at Lily and smirked, leaning closer to her plate. “So, anyway, we should sign up for that yoga class. It’ll be fun.”

Lily nodded, glancing at Haley’s stomach again but saying nothing. She’ll figure it out eventually, she thought smugly. Or maybe she won’t. Either way, it’s not my problem.

Haley squirmed in her seat, painfully aware of how out of place she felt. They’re thin. They fit in here. I don’t. I’ll never be like them. She reached for her drink, her hands trembling slightly, and focused on the condensation on the glass to avoid the reality of the conversation happening without her.

Across the table, Sara’s lip curled slightly. She doesn’t even try. Look at her, sitting there with her shirt riding up like that. It’s embarrassing. She stabbed a forkful of salad and exchanged a glance with Lily, both of them silently agreeing: This is why she doesn’t belong.

Lily’s apartment smelled faintly of vanilla candles, the kind of cozy, effortlessly chic atmosphere that matched her personality. She and Sara were flitting between Lily’s bedroom and the living room, holding up tiny crop tops and size 2 designer jeans, laughing as they debated what to wear. The energy was light and carefree—for them, at least.

Haley sat stiffly on the sofa, her stomach pressing painfully against the waistband of her Walmart size 18 jeans, which had no hope of stretching further. The bloated feeling from dinner hadn’t gone away, and now it felt worse under the tight fabric. She shifted uncomfortably, trying to tug her shirt down over the exposed sliver of her belly that kept threatening to peek out. Her face burned as she glanced at her friends, both of whom seemed oblivious to her discomfort.

“What about this one?” Lily asked, holding up a lacy bralette that looked like it might fit a doll compared to Haley’s oversized chest. Sara nodded approvingly.

“Totally. That with the high-waisted black jeans? Perfect.”

Haley glanced down at her own outfit—a plain, oversized top that didn’t quite cover her rolls and the unflattering jeans that made her thighs feel like they were suffocating. She didn’t belong here.

“Yeah, and I could pair it with those heels,” Lily said, grabbing them from her closet. She handed Sara a tiny crop top. “This would look so good on you.”

“Thanks!” Sara slipped it on over her tank top, spinning in front of the mirror. The crop top barely reached her waist, and yet it looked perfect—smooth, flat, and effortless.

Haley tried to sink further into the couch, feeling every inch of her bloated stomach pushing against her jeans. She could feel the fabric pinching into her waist, the rolls spilling over like they were mocking her. Her shirt rode up slightly, but she didn’t have the energy to fix it anymore. What would be the point?

“Haley, what are you wearing to the bar?” Lily asked suddenly, barely glancing her way as she rummaged through another pile of clothes.

“Oh, um…” Haley hesitated, looking down at her outfit and immediately regretting coming along. “I’ll probably just wear this,” she mumbled, gesturing vaguely at her ill-fitting clothes.

Lily raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond. She didn’t have to. The silence was louder than any comment could be.

Sara smirked as she slid on a pair of Lily’s size 2 jeans. “I mean, we could try to find something for you, but…” She trailed off, glancing at Haley and then at the piles of tiny clothes scattered across the room. The unspoken message hung in the air: Nothing here would even come close to fitting you.

Haley forced a laugh, but it came out hollow. “No, no, I’m good. I’m fine,” she said, adjusting her shirt again and wishing she could disappear.

Lily exchanged a quick look with Sara before turning back to the mirror. They weren’t being mean—not outright. But they weren’t trying to include her either.

Haley shifted on the couch, the tightness of her jeans becoming unbearable, and reached for her phone as if she were busy with something. Anything to distract herself from the overwhelming feeling of not belonging. She could hear the laughter and easy chatter between Lily and Sara, and she felt like she was watching a movie instead of being part of the scene.

“Alright, let’s go!” Lily said, grabbing her bag. She didn’t look back at Haley as she headed for the door. “Coming?”

Haley forced herself to her feet, her bloated stomach pressing harder against her jeans, and followed them out. But deep down, she already knew: the night would just be more of the same.

The bar was packed, music pulsing through the air, the dim lights casting a flattering glow on everyone in the room—or at least, everyone but Haley. She followed Lily and Sara inside, her tight size 18 jeans digging into her stomach, making her feel every inch of her body as she shuffled awkwardly behind her friends.

Lily and Sara walked confidently, their perfectly fitting crop tops and designer jeans hugging their slim bodies. Heads turned as they passed, guys elbowing their friends or leaning into conversations that conveniently positioned them closer to the girls. Haley stayed a step behind, feeling invisible, even as she tugged her oversized shirt down to cover her rolls.

At the bar, a tall guy with neatly styled hair leaned over toward Lily, flashing a wide grin. “Hey, can I get you ladies a drink?”

Sara giggled, brushing her hair over her shoulder. “Sure, why not?” she said, already giving her order. The guy motioned to the bartender, completely ignoring Haley, who stood awkwardly next to Sara, shifting her weight uncomfortably as the waistband of her jeans pinched tighter.

Haley tried to smile politely, but the guy didn’t even glance her way. He was too busy laughing at something Lily said, his eyes locked on her toned figure and tiny crop top. Haley glanced down at her own outfit, the plain shirt stretching awkwardly over her belly. I shouldn’t have come, she thought, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.

When the drinks arrived, the guy handed them to Lily and Sara with a charming grin. “Cheers,” he said, lifting his own glass. Haley reached into her purse to pay for her drink, since no one had offered, and sipped it quietly as her friends leaned in closer to him, giggling at his jokes. She wasn’t part of the conversation. She wasn’t even acknowledged.

After a few minutes, two more guys joined them, clearly friends of the first. They immediately zeroed in on Lily and Sara, their eyes darting up and down their slim figures. “You’re too good at this game,” one of them said, pointing to Sara, who laughed and leaned casually against the bar.

Haley stood there, unsure of what to do. She tried to join in, smiling and offering a comment. “It’s a pretty easy game, though, right?” she said, her voice awkward and hesitant.

The guy barely glanced at her. “Yeah, I guess,” he said quickly, turning back to Sara without missing a beat. Haley felt the heat rise in her face, her stomach twisting—not just from the food she had eaten earlier, but from the rejection she felt in the air.

At one point, one of the guys lightly touched Lily’s arm, leaning in closer. “You have such a great laugh,” he said, smiling down at her. Lily giggled, her cheeks flushed from the attention. Haley stood there, watching, her arms crossed over her bloated stomach, trying to make herself smaller.

Sara turned to Haley after a while, a slightly forced smile on her face. “Having fun?” she asked, though her eyes didn’t linger long before shifting back to the guy she’d been flirting with.

Haley nodded quickly, even though it was a lie. “Yeah, totally,” she said, though her voice lacked any conviction. She took another sip of her drink, pretending not to notice the way the guys avoided looking at her, their attention fully consumed by her friends.

As the night wore on, the disparity became impossible to ignore. Lily and Sara were in their element, laughing, flirting, basking in the attention. Haley, meanwhile, felt like a piece of furniture—there, but irrelevant, blending into the background, her bloated stomach and tight jeans a constant reminder of how far removed she was from their world. She didn’t belong, and she knew it. And so did everyone else.

The neon lights of the club flashed in rhythm with the pounding bass, and the line to get inside snaked down the block. Haley followed Lily and Sara to the front, where the bouncer stood with his clipboard and a stern expression. Lily and Sara looked flawless, their slim figures hugged by their tight crop tops and designer jeans. Haley trailed behind, her shirt stretched awkwardly over her bloated stomach, her Walmart jeans digging painfully into her waist. She already felt out of place, but the idea of being turned away hadn’t even crossed her mind—until it happened.

The bouncer gave Lily and Sara a once-over, his expression shifting to mild approval. “You two are good,” he said, unhooking the velvet rope to let them pass.

Then his eyes landed on Haley. His brow furrowed slightly, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Not tonight,” he said flatly, blocking the way with his clipboard.

Haley blinked, the words hitting her like a slap. “What?” she stammered, looking from him to her friends. “What do you mean?”

The bouncer didn’t even bother to explain, just gave her a dismissive glance. “You’re not getting in,” he repeated, his tone cold and final.

Lily and Sara exchanged a quick, uncomfortable glance. Sara hesitated, her mouth opening slightly as if to say something, but Lily spoke first. “Oh,” she said, her voice light but tinged with awkwardness. “That’s… unfortunate.” She gave a half-hearted shrug, glancing back at the entrance.

Haley looked between them, her face burning with humiliation. “You’re still going in?” she asked, her voice cracking slightly.

Lily hesitated for a fraction of a second before smiling apologetically. “We already made plans to meet people inside,” she said, her tone breezy, as if that made it better. “We won’t be long!”

Sara nodded quickly, avoiding Haley’s gaze. “Yeah, we’ll catch up with you later,” she added, already moving toward the entrance.

Haley stood there, frozen, as the velvet rope closed behind her friends. They didn’t look back as they disappeared into the pulsing lights and music, leaving her standing alone on the sidewalk. The bouncer didn’t spare her another glance, already turning to the next group in line.

The humiliation was suffocating. Haley could feel people in the line behind her glancing her way, some smirking, others whispering. She wasn’t good enough. She wasn’t even worth a fight from her friends.

She turned and walked away quickly, her stomach churning with shame and anger, the tight waistband of her jeans digging into her rolls with every step. Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them fall, not here, not in front of these people who had just seen her rejection in full view.

Haley ducked into a nearby alley, leaning against the cold brick wall. Her friends were inside, dancing, laughing, being admired, and she was left outside, a stark reminder of what she had let herself become. The night had ended for her long before it began.

As Haley leaned against the cold brick wall of the alley, her stomach still painfully constricted by her too-tight jeans, she felt the humiliation and rejection boiling inside her. Her cheeks burned hot with shame, and her thoughts spiraled into their usual self-critical loop. “Why do I even try? I’m disgusting. They didn’t even care enough to stay. I’m just the fat tagalong they can’t get rid of.”

Instead of confronting the feelings or trying to process them, Haley turned to her most familiar coping mechanism: food. She dug into her bag, her hands fumbling for the granola bar she always kept there. She ripped it open and began to eat quickly, the chewy texture barely registering as she shoved it into her mouth, piece after piece. The granola bar was gone in seconds, but it didn’t matter—it wasn’t about hunger. It was about numbing the pain with something immediate, something that felt good for a fleeting moment.

Haley wiped her hands on her jeans, her stomach twisting from both the emotional blow and the food she had just eaten. It wasn’t enough. She needed more. More food, more distraction. Anything to silence the thoughts screaming in her head.

She checked her phone for nearby convenience stores. A 24-hour shop was just a block away. She walked briskly, her thighs chafing painfully, and tried to avoid making eye contact with anyone on the street. The fluorescent lights of the store greeted her as she entered, and she headed straight for the snacks aisle. Her eyes darted over the shelves, landing on a pint of ice cream, a package of cookies, and a bag of chips. Without hesitation, she grabbed all three, justifying it to herself as a treat she deserved after such a horrible night.

By the time she returned to her car, her hands were already tearing into the bag of chips. She ate mindlessly, the salty crunch temporarily drowning out her shame. When she reached the bottom of the bag, she moved on to the cookies, then the ice cream, the spoon scraping the bottom of the pint within minutes. The fullness in her stomach grew to be unbearable, but the act of eating had temporarily numbed the ache in her chest.

Sitting in her car, surrounded by empty wrappers and the lingering smell of junk food, Haley’s coping mechanism completed its cruel cycle: the brief comfort of eating was gone, replaced by an even deeper shame. Her bloated stomach pressed harder against her jeans, her shirt riding up to expose her rolls once again.

“I deserve this,” she thought bitterly. “I deserve to feel disgusting. This is who I am.” Instead of confronting her feelings, Haley had buried them in food, as she always did, and now she was left with nothing but the hollow aftermath.