Chapter 3 - getting in deeper

For the next month, things were perfect. I went to class, did my homework and spent the rest of my time eating or playing Minecraft. My freezer was filled with microwave burritos, my cabinets with chips and Hostess treats. I felt a sugar rush when eating these foods, I also felt safe, they made me feel comfortable. My waistline was also growing. I now had a soft, albeit small belly and thighs that were getting flabby. My breasts hadn't really grown. I was now 150 lbs, approaching chubby girl territory.

The dream nearly ended when my parents called, they weren't happy with the charges on the credit card. I was going to have to cut back on my reliance on the card but I didn't want things to end yet. I was going to have to get a job.

I applied for tutoring jobs and a research assistant job on campus but I wasn't sure I was going to get those. I mentioned it to Steph, she said her McDonalds was hiring. It would pay way worse than a campus job but it seemed like a decent back-up. Steph put in a good word for me, said I was her cousin.

I got an e-mail saying I got the research assistant job. An hour later, I got a call from the manager saying I was hired at McDonalds. I thought about wearing that uniform, working near all that fattening food. I turned down the research assistant job and became a McDonalds employee.

By my first day on the job, Steph and I looked more like sisters than ever. She was down to 215 pounds, still kinda fat but you could see muscle definition in her arms now. I was an increasingly doughy 155. It used to be 110 pounds separating us, now it was down to 60.

"Alright, Lizzy, you are the new Steph. Watch what she does exactly and follow her lead," said the manager.

Steph and I locked eyes and smiled, the manager had no idea how much I was following that instruction.

Working at McDonalds was exhausting, you are constantly moving around getting out orders. Though, I must admit, it felt nice to just shut my brain off and work. Plus, the mid-shift meal was nice. And the free food at the end of the night.

"You want to take anything home, Steph?" asked the manager.

I nudged her to fill up a bag and give it to me. I wanted extras for breakfast. Between the drive there and back and the shift, I was exhausted when I got home. I ate the first bag of fast food on the drive home. I needed to do homework but I was too tired. I needed a break so I fired up Minecraft and started in on the second bag, the one Steph had packed for me.

This became a regular pattern for me, McDonalds and my lethargic diet sapped all my energy. My grades began to suffer, my parents were not going to be happy when they saw my report card in May. That didn't stop me though.

I was getting fat, 170 pounds. Boys on campus stopped checking me out, I was plain now. I smelled like the fryers. I stopped picking up in my apartment. I was living more like Steph than Lizzy.

Meanwhile, Steph was living more like me. Well, the old me. She was down to 195 pounds, she entered a 10k. Her grades had improved, she had even gotten into a summer program at my school with a stipend. Which was neat, I wouldn't need to help her out financially anymore. That last part of important, my parents were pissed at my poor grades and were dramatically reducing the amount of money they were giving me. My dad said something like, "If you are going to piss away your education, you better pay for it."

I needed to pick up more hours for the summer, the manager was happy to say yes as Steph was decreasing her hours to attend the summer program.

"Sucks that we will both be driving to the other person's town more than we will spend time at our own apartments," said Steph.

"What if we exchange apartments for the summer?" I asked. This was my opportunity to live as her for 3 months. Finally get this all out of my system. Then, I can go back to my old life. Lose some of this weight, get back on track.

"Ugh, I don't want to move all my stuff..." said Steph.

"Don't," I said, "Keep all your stuff there, take all my stuff."

"It kind of makes sense," she said, "Soon you'll be wearing my old fat clothes anyway, I can probably start wearing your old skinny clothes."

That got me excited. We quickly shook on the deal.

On the day we exchanged keys in my new crappy, efficiency apartment, we both hopped on the scale. It said 182 pounds. For both of us. From 110 pounds separating us, now we were the same weight. In fact, I looked fatter than her. She still kept her nice big breasts while I carried more weight in my belly. My flabby belly that now hung over my pants. I was getting flabby everywhere, she had muscle tone while I was all gush. Oh, god, I am the fatter one now.