Whether she was proud of it or not, Amanda spent a lot of time worrying about what would happen if she got fat again. She had pretty much always been heavy—even at her slimmest she was still far more than thicc. She wore it well and she did her best to maintain her confidence at any size, but an uncomfortable amount of her anxieties were tied directly to the idea of blowing back up again. Breaking her sister’s bed way back when had been a wakeup call, and it had been just the kick in the pants that she needed to get her life under control. She started eating better, exercising at the gym, and actively broke a bunch of bad habits that were still really, really hard to deal with sometimes… In fact, the only thing that seemed to help keep all of this anxiety under control was spending time with her best friend Riley. Amanda had met her back when she was peak skinny—feeling confident about her size, cool and collected in her own skin, even sexy on her better days. Riley had been
(USSBBW, immobility. Dour.) Bess has a concerning look in her eyes, a far-off gaze that was different from the glazed expression she usually had when she ate. Which she was still doing, of course. I watch her dig into her current heaping plateful of food, her forearms jiggling as she scoops up a double forkful of fettuccine. I watch her quadruple chins, smeared with Alfredo sauce, wobble as she noisily slurps the noodles. She notices me staring; I do it plenty when she eats, but I must have a weird looks on my face as well. “What… BORP! Are you looking at?” “Just how pretty you are,” I answer reflexively. She rolls her eyes and chuckles her throaty chuckle, but it’s a little off. Hollow. She gobbles more pasta and smacks her lips. There are a few blobs of sauce in her brown hair; I'll have to give it a wash before bed. She finishes the plate and puts it on the stack next to her; the dishwasher is already full and but I've got enough clean ones on hand before I need to start hand
