The munchies: part 3 (finale)

chapter 4

4.


There was one night in May when I brought home a new bag of sativa weed after meeting my dealer as I came home from uni. It had been a dry spell for us, so the high was fresh, and we got crazy fun ideas after only the second hit of the bong. With some unused cake mix, chocolate syrup, flour, eggs, milk, and everything else you need, we mixed baked a stupidly sugary cake. We lathered it with icing that was too thick, so we poured chocolate mix into the bowl and put in crushed chocolate and peanut butter and whipped cream and ice cream and some starbursts, and then realized it was overkill, but stirred it anyway, and lathered it on the cake again, and it worked. By that time it was eleven o'clock, and we'd missed dinner completely, so we gorged on the entire 13x13" cake between ourselves. I don't remember any discomfort, but our stomachs were huge. I remember how we laughed at the size of us. Then we went back to the bong and put in fresh bud, and took hits, and I sat back as I felt my brain suck out the back of my skull again.


In the morning when I woke up, Sarah was already walking around the kitchen in her underwear and one of my loose sweaters for the cold. I was fine. I asked if she wanted help cleaning the dishes, and she said no, so I sat on a stool at the kitchen bench in my boxers only and watched, admired, her as she went. Slapping the tap off, she came out the kitchen and went down the hallway to my room. I unplugged her iPad from the charger in the wall and scrolled through facebook. She came back into the kitchen. She'd taken the sweater off and put on a dark grey shirt instead that stuck to the shape of her waist. Her hips curved over her underwear and her thighs jiggled as she stepped around. When she saw me looking, she smiled, and came around the kitchen bench to me, and stood in front of me. We made out.


I felt her hands brush down my sides, then she pulled away suddenly. 'What's this?' she said.


I looked into her blue eyes, but she was looking down at my lower half.


She pulled back a little further, as if to get a clear view of something. She gaped a little. 'Oh my god,' she giggled. 'What's this?' Sarah's hand was cold on my stomach. She pinched it. Wait, she pinched it?


'Look at this,' she said again. I looked at myself.


Sarah's hand slapped the side of my stomach. There was a tiny, almost invisible jiggle. It was pooching out a bit.


My heart stopped. 'Oh fuck.'


She pinched it, and I went to slap her hand away, but didn't follow through. I gaped. 'How the hell-'


Sarah kissed me deeply. She pulled away, forehead resting against mine. 'Looks like someone's catching on.'


I turned in my seat to look at my sides. They'd lost some shape. My belly button looked a bit darker. I sat there, without words.


She clasped my shoulders and stroked them affectionately. 'Come on honey. You can't seriously have thought all our eating wouldn't cause something?'


'But...' I paused. 'But I've always had such an insane metabolism.'


'You're in your twenties now, fatty.'


I couldn't respond.


She must have seen how stunned I was, because she went and said, 'Well hey, you're not fat at least. Not like me, anyway.' Her hands went away and she lifted her shirt with one hand to slap her flaccid belly with the other. Flesh and navel shivered. 'Well, I'm more chubby. Still a little bit to go before I'm fat. Wouldn't you say?'


With my mind taken off my own state, I said, 'I guess. What do you weigh now? Wait. Have we ever weighed you?'


She thought. 'I don't think so.'


We went to the bathroom and pulled out my scale. Sarah lined herself up before the black square and stood on it. We waited. I leaned over to see the digital numbers. They stopped at 67.04 kgs -- 147.8 lbs. She stepped off hard, legs and hips jiggling. She turned to me, seeming confused. 'I don't look 67 kilos, though...'


'What do you mean?'


'Don't I look a little bigger that 67?'


'You look sexy, that's what.'


She grinned and we put the scale back and went into the kitchen again. While she opened a cupboard to get some cereal, I looked down at myself while she wasn't looking. Standing up, it wasn't so obvious. I didn't know how to feel about that.