Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Double Date
Perspective: Poppy

I took a couple of steps back from our full-length mirror and inspected my curves in my new date night outfit. Maybe I actually *could* pull off tightening the belt on my mini skirt another notch. I might still be the "fat friend" tonight, but the gym does appear to be paying off. If things were still going the way they were a couple of months back, this mesh long-sleeve, cropped corset, and tiny mini skirt would be on the rack at a charity shop by now.

The whole thing is still tight as hell on me, though. My upper arms feel like they’re swelling underneath the narrow mesh sleeves, and I can feel a tickle on my skin where the soft flesh of my stomach pushes against the denim, brushing the outside of the skirt now and then while the waistband plays around with my navel ring. It may not be tiny, but this pudgy tummy still signifies a victory against my previously impending overhang… Anyway, what really matters, is that I look fucking hot. Had I not switched up my routine, I bet I’d be rocking a belly at least the size of a volleyball. The gut I had going would have had me struggling to get my skirt’s front zipper’s teeth around the bulge of flesh that had been swelling up so quickly- up until April of course, when I put a stop to it.

At 5'1", I haven’t found it easy to keep weight off. In college I basically turned itp into my brand: Poppy, the porky, pink-haired party girl. My sorority sisters loved it. When I was a Junior I started to beat back that reputation a little— by losing about 60 pounds. I busted my ass to get down to 160, and that’s the lightest I’ve been since high school. Then, in my senior year, I met Malcolm, my date for this evening.

That boy can cook up a storm, and he expects his girl to be a member of the Clean Plate Club. With skills like his I doubt there’s a girl in the world who’d refuse to oblige, but after 7 months of that princess treatment, I had to start. I regained half the weight I lost in a little under half the time. I was back up 190 with the needle on my scale flying back toward the 200 mark by the time I was wearing my cap and gown.

My graduation photos signaled it was time to hit the gym, and quit the stress-filled late nights where an adoring boyfriend and homecooked treat were my only sources of comfort. Needless to say, I think putting off grad school might be the main thing saving my waistline. After 2 months of solemn dedication, I’ve knocked my weight back down 20 pounds to 170. It feels like a win, especially now that my belly has shrunk down enough to let me squeeze into some of my pre-Malcolm favorites. I know 170 doesn’t sound skinny, especially on a small frame, but 50 pounds below my heaviest is something of a victory for me. It might not sound fat to you either, but if you saw the company I keep, you would understand how I feel.

With tonight’s outfit taken care of, I made my way over to my vanity and started applying some thick graphic liner. While deep in concentration, I hear a quick-paced shuffling sound of slippers starting in the hallway and and trailing into the room before stopping behind me. After setting down my liner, I turn behind me to find my best friend Astrid, fresh from the shower in her bra and panties, her dark curls clinging to the dampness of her skin as she dried her hair. Her dress was draped over her other arm.

“Hey girl heyy” I said before turning back toward the vanity to dust some pink blush onto my cheeks to complement my hair.

“Hey darlin, WOW- well aren’t you a fuckin knockout!” Astrid replied, taking stock of my outfit for the evening. I smiled in response, but didn’t take my eyes off my eyeliner application.

Astrid was the real knockout. She's got this adorable indie darling vibe going on, with big green eyes, pale olive skin and dark hair tumbling down to her voluptuous hips. She had perky D-cup breasts that sat pretty at the top of a long, contoured torso with a waist that could make a Barbie doll jealous.

“Oh, this old thing?” I joked as I capped my eyeliner and searched the vanity counter for my next step. While I was shuffling things around looking for my blush, I detected some odd movement at the edges of my vision. I couldn’t help but look up into the mirror, and when I did, I saw something I didn’t expect to see.

My supermodel Barbie best friend stood slightly bent, with her green silk dress clinging under the mass of her hips and ass as she quickly wriggled them from side to side in an attempt to coax the fabric over. I was unable to take my eyes away immediately, because something about her was different.

Her hips and thighs had always looked remarkably voluptuous in contrast to her sharp waistline, but today they were looking a little meatier than before, as evidenced by the gathering of emerald green fabric pushing up against the newly expanded flesh. I quickly scanned her in bewilderment and began to notice what I thought could be other changes. The faint, familiar contours of her ribs and abdominals appeared to have gone missing, making the sharp contours of her torso the slightest bit softer. Our eyes met for a split second before the wriggling effort was successful. I felt a pang of guilt as I realized I turned my critical eyes onto the body of my dear friend. Once the fabric made it over her haunches she was home free.

“Could you zip me up, babes?”

“Sure.” I said, leaving the vanity to come behind her.

I was surprised that attempt, while almost immediately successful, was not met without resistance. In fact, I’m surprised it even needed to be made. Once the dress was zipped, she turned around to face me with a cheerful expression. Since I knew tonight was this dress’ debut, she gave an excited little twirl, and with it I realized my eyes had not deceived me.

I recognized this dress from a girls’ shopping trip that Astrid’s boyfriend, Eren, had graciously sponsored about a month ago. The fit, however was not exactly what I had remembered. I wouldn’t go so far as to say it was tight, at least not around anywhere but her hips, but the space beneath her curves, where the silk once draped as though there was nothing behind it, now looked, I don’t know… occupied?

Her waist, still enviably narrow, no longer looked impossibly small, and while the silk pressed against the sides of her hips and thighs, it positively clung to her ass, giving it definition like I’d never seen before. She moved to pull the skirt down as she finished her twirl, and with that slight bend came the most damning discovery. As the dress tightened around her midsection, a never-before-seen fleshiness pressed up against the silk. I couldn’t believe it. At 23 years old, could Astrid Lami finally be filling out?

“So, whaddya think?” She asked while her fingers lightly brushed the place on her abdomen I had just been inspecting, making me worry it was one inspection too many. I watched a sweet but thoughtful look creep in her eyes while she detected, as I had, the tightened fabric and the presence of her flesh beneath it. I felt a bit of guilt at taking inventory in all the minutiae of her slight gain, and I wasn’t replying fast enough. The thoughtful look flashed off her face and was replaced with a grin.

“I remember you were with me when I got this dress, Pop. Wasn’t that just like a month ago? It seems to have developed a closer relationship with my body than I remember. ” She said it with a smirk, like she was in on some joke I didn't get, then took one of her hands off her hips and patted that softened space near her belly button, confirming the flesh beneath was not nearly as far from touching the fabric as it used to be. Astrid never really acknowledges the topic of weight, so I was surprised when she approached it so directly.

Then was even more surprised when she reached for her midsection with her thumb and index finger before pinching the roll of flesh I had been zeroing in on and giving it a quick shake. She grinned wider. “Looks like I’ve started carrying some souvenirs home with me, from all of Eren’s dinner-and-dessert dates.” She slapped both her hands on her own buttocks, allowing her palms to make a thick sound as they struck against the silk before saying. “I can’t say I didn’t think it would catch up to me eventually. But damn,” she continued, looking down at the nascent roll and attempting to jiggle it again “only a month after I bought my first Small and I’ll have to start switching over to Mediums.”

"You look hot as fuck Astrid" I reassured to which she basically replied “no you.” Part of me wished she could really understand the whole self-image battle. In all the time I’ve known her, she’s never really seemed to get it. Her comment hit me harder than I expected, and I didn’t feel quite so bad about picking apart her bodily changes in my own mind.. I mean, here I was, feeling good about fitting into an outfit I'd outgrown, and she's joking about maybe needing a medium. But it also felt good to know that even someone with a body like Astrid's could put on a little relationship weight.

"You know…” Astrid began, again thoughtfully grazing the lightly protruding flesh with her fingers, “growing up in a food restrictive household can make you appreciate being able to enjoy food without guilt." This caused some of my guilt to flow back as i nodded knowingly.

"I know that was tough," I murmured, having zoned out watching her half heartedly caress her midsection before abruptly snapping back into reality. "But hey, I've actually been losing some weight recently. I wasn’t able to fit in any of this for a while after I started seeing Malcolm. Now look at me." I said, posing with my arms raised to highlight my body.

Astrid's face lit up. "Poppy, that's fantastic! I know you mentioned that was important to you."

A warmth spread through me, a mix of gratitude and a touch of vulnerability. "Thanks, Astrid. It's been... quite the journey, you know?" I said, my eyes meeting hers in the mirror. "Having you by my side, cheering me on, it's made all the difference. I guess I'm learning to find a balance, to love myself a bit more through it all."

Astrid's smile widened, her eyes sparkling with unspoken understanding. "That's what friends are for, right? To lift each other up, especially through the tough times." She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "And to share the vanity without fighting for mirror space."

I caught Astrid's gaze in the mirror, a playful smirk tugging at my lips. "You know, Astrid, if I didn't know any better, I'd say those dessert dates with Eren are doing wonders for your curves."

She rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of amusement in her voice. "Oh, please. I've just embraced the art of strategic eating. A little extra here," she gestured to her hips, "means more to love, right?"

I chuckled, my tone light but with a hint of self-reflection. "I guess I'm still learning that art. Been hitting the gym like it owes me money. But seeing you rock that dress makes me think I should maybe focus more on the 'strategic' part of eating."

Astrid turned, her dress hugging her figure perfectly, and winked at me. "It's all about balance, Pop. You've been killing it at the gym, and it shows. But remember, life's too short to skip dessert—especially when it's as good as Eren's cooking."

I nodded, a genuine smile spreading across my face. "True. Malcolm's been trying to get me to relax a bit with the diet. Says he loves me just the way I am, but you know how it is. I want to feel good in my skin, too."

Astrid stepped closer, her voice softening. "And you look amazing, Pop. Don't forget, it's not just about the number on the scale. It's how you feel. And right now, you're glowing."

We shared a moment of understanding, our reflections side by side in the mirror—a contrast of body types, yet both radiating confidence.

I broke the silence, my tone playful again. "So, what's the plan? Continue our 'strategic' approach at the beer garden tonight?"

Astrid laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Absolutely. But let's make a pact—no counting calories tonight. We're celebrating our fabulous selves, no holds barred."

"Deal," I agreed, raising an imaginary glass. "To fabulous selves and dessert dates that double as workout motivation."

As we finished getting ready, our laughter and light-hearted banter filled the room, a testament to our enduring friendship and mutual support, regardless of our differing paths to self-acceptance and body positivity.

As the front door opened, Malcolm and Eren stepped into the room, their presence immediately shifting the atmosphere. Eren's eyes found Astrid first, a teasing glint in his gaze as he took in her figure in the green silk dress.

"Wow, Astrid, that dress looks even better than I remember," Eren said, his voice carrying a playful note. "It hugs your hips so tightly. I think the crème brûlée and tarte tatin have been treating you well."

Astrid shot him a mock glare, but her eyes danced with amusement. "Maybe," she replied, stepping into his open arms for a brief, affectionate hug. "But I think it's just the dress's way of hugging me back."

Malcolm, meanwhile, approached me with a warm smile, his eyes sweeping over my outfit appreciatively. "Poppy, you look incredible," he said, his hand finding the small of my back in a gentle touch that sent a ripple of warmth through me. "That skirt is definitely a winner."

I couldn't help but beam at the compliment, feeling a mix of pride and relief. "Thanks, Malcolm. I was a bit worried it might be too much, but I'm glad you like it," I said, leaning into his touch just a bit, enjoying the closeness.

The room was filled with an easy camaraderie, the kind that comes from shared history and mutual affection. As we all chatted and laughed, the small touches and glances between us spoke volumes of the supportive and loving relationships we shared.

Malcolm's hand remained on my back, a silent promise of his support, while Eren's arm stayed casually draped over Astrid's shoulder, a testament to their playful yet deep connection. It was clear that, despite our different ways, we were all comfortable and secure in the bonds we had formed.

Just as we were about to head out, I patted my pockets. "Oh no, my wallet!" I exclaimed, rummaging through my purse in vain.

Eren raised an eyebrow. "Why do you need your wallet? Dinner's on me tonight, remember?"

"Well, a girl needs her ID to drink, doesn't she? Plus, I never leave home without it. It's like my security blanket," I replied, meeting his gaze.

Malcolm nodded, understanding. "I'll stay back and help you look for it. Go ahead, you two. We'll catch up."

Astrid squeezed my shoulder reassuringly before she and Eren headed out, leaving Malcolm and me to search for the elusive wallet.