Chapter 1 - meeting carly

I told her I didn't need one, but Mom was not in the mood to argue. It was now six months since Dad left, and she'd just started her first job in, well, ever I think. Anyway she was going in to get some extra hours and was nervous about leaving me alone for an evening, which doesn't make any sense considering how big she's always telling me I am.

I actually tried that argument. She just smirked and poked my belly, "You know that's not what I mean. And thirteen is not too old to have a sitter."

Maybe. Thirteen is the perfect age, however, to have a crush on your sitter - and when I first saw Carly I started crushing hard. She appeared in my room while I was playing video games, too caught up in Halo and snacking to hear the doorbell ring downstairs. When Mom brought her in I said hello politely, and as Mom dashed off to work Carly gave me a friendly smile. She was sunny and lithe, with an athletic glow. I recognized her; she ran track at the high school.

"Dinner in half an hour?"

I nodded, "Sounds good."

"I'll give you a shout." She turned and was out the door. I realized my mouth was dry, and finished my chocolate milk. I also realized my belly was peeking out of my t-shirt, and probably had been this whole time.

"Oh, great," I muttered. I pulled my shirt down, which was futile, and then went to my dresser for a different one. They were all of them in the same condition: inadequate. How long have my shirts been riding up? Had I just been eating tons this afternoon, or was this real growth? Were my pants also too small?

I lifted some pudge and spotted red marks at my waist, especially where my belt buckle hit my soft middle. How had I not seen this before? Or has this all just suddenly appeared? How much have I been eating?

How much? Well, I thought to myself, two pb&j's, chocolate milk, doritos, a couple of candy bars, a banana, a coke, and swiss rolls. All since lunch; that's how much. The candy and cakes I kept stashed in my room, something I started doing after a couple of leery glances from Mom. I also started hiding the spent wrappers in my backpack and dumping them at school the next day. I'd rather hide food than have a conversation about every bite I want to eat. But whatever; she can see how tight my clothes are anyway. Everyone can, I thought as I looked at my belly's snug outline in my biggest shirt.

Mom had of course laid out instructions for a sensible dinner, and Carly made it as asked. It was fine, but Carly could tell I wasn't satisfied. I'm not sure how - I mean I wasn't complaining or anything. No way was I about to act the hungry fat kid in front of her.

"Did you get enough to eat?" She asked. Her eyes were crystal green.

"Yeah I'm fine. It was good."

"Hm. It wasn't a lot, and your mom didn't say anything about dessert." Her mouth curled in half a sneer. A really cute sneer.

"She and I don't have dessert every night."

"Oh. Well I do. I like to eat, don't you? Especially dessert."

"Sure." But you're an athlete, I thought. You can do things like that. I outgrow pants.

"I guess she did say you could have a snack later. Okay. I'm going to clean this up, then I've got some reading to do. You want to watch TV or play games?"

I opted for games, and settled back into my beanbag chair up in my room. Twenty minutes later she popped her head in.

"I'm not finding anything other than string cheese and Goldfish. You want string cheese?" She asked grimly, clearly thinking it merely the less lousy snack choice.

"Nah, I'm okay." She left, and then I thought I heard the front door. Carly returned a few minutes later with a small canvas tote.

"All right," she dropped down next to me, and held open the tote so I could see inside. It was a food stash: chocolate bars, bags of chips, big bakery cookies. My eyes popped wide, and she giggled. "My boyfriend's a snacker; I keep this stock in my car. He's on vacation with his fam, so have at it."

"Wow -- Okay, thanks!" I pulled out a king-size Butterfinger.

"Good choice." She nestled the goodie bag next to me. She smelled like oranges and soap. "Now you eat all you like, okay? Heck, eat everything. They're not my kind of snacks, so it's just going to sit around. Might as well go to a good cause," she winked at me.

"O-okay."

She then produced three sticks of string cheese. "And eat some string cheese so I can tell your mom you ate string cheese."

"Will do." I was loving this. Who was this girl?

"See you in a bit," she smiled and left, and O My God I tore into that candy. The Butterfinger really was a good choice, and got my hunger up again. I noshed and gamed happily the rest of the evening until she returned a couple of hours later with a much-appreciated glass of milk. I had totally demolished the snacks.

"Nice work! You're just like my guy. I knew you would eat it all. I'll take care of these" She started gathering up the trash. She was really close; close enough for her hair to brush across my arm. Close enough to drop her voice like a co-conspirator, "You have any other wrappers you need disappeared, hungry man?"

"Huh," I chuckled. Wow. Then I thought, well yeah actually I do. I tore away from her eyes and dug out the stowed remnants of my day's snacking. They were mixed in with yesterday's which I hadn't thrown out yet, so I ended up handing her quite a lot. She was easy and accepting with the evidence of my overeating, as if she'd expected no less. I wasn't even embarrassed.

"Is that everything?" She asked. I nodded and she tucked the tote into her bag as I finished the milk. I let out a burp as she took the empty glass from my hand. "Done and done," she giggled.

"'Scuse me--" Downstairs the front door opened; Mom was home.

Carly smiled, "Thanks for being a good kid tonight. You made my job easy!" And then she and her green eyes were off.

I waved sleepily but stayed put, kind of too full to move. There was a lot of food in that little bag.