Unlike some of her teammates Trixie never wanted diva power, dominating and controlling others. She just wanted recognition. A latchkey kid living with a weight conscious aunt absorbed with a civil service career, recognition in her mind equated to keeping a tight belly with constant workouts and eating as little as possible. This and a big bust, she thought, was the best way to get guys. And getting guys was the real reason she was on the cheerleading squad.
Only it hadn’t worked out that way. She’d seen Kimberly bounce Ashley as Captain, only to have Ashley acquire a boyfriend and about twenty pounds as she uncovered Kimberly's deception and bounced back on top. Amber had gained even more and had a nice guy too. And the deposed Kimberly was gaining so much that rumor had it she wasn’t even coming back, but she still had a boyfriend as well.
Trixie had no one, and rather than exercising so obsessively she secretly wished she could eat like her more porky teammates. . But instead of eating burritos or lasagna for lunch she stuck to her salads and squelched her envy. After all, no one was keeping her from having a cheeseburger if she wanted to. She was just better than that.
Or was she? Could she give herself permission to go against her aut’s injunctions and have some ice cream?
One afternoon in early November she caved in and bought a pint of Ben and Jerry’s, devouring it in the park before discarding the evidence in a public waste basket. It had been divine.
“So that’s what its like,” she thought.
The next day she skipped over the salads and bought a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches. Again she enjoyed the flavors. Nervously that afternoon she explored her belly, then got on a scale to explore the damage. She couldn’t find any.
“Wow,” she thought” Ie been depriving myself for nothing. My metabolism apparently can handle this.”
That weekend at a Saturday night party she allowed herself to have here pieces of pizza for the first time in her life, and it felt good. The next day she had a grande burrito and taco bell. Feeling guilty, she again checked the scale. Still no damage.
And so as Thanksgiving approached Trixie relaxed her guard, trusting her metabolism to let her eat like she wished. It took nearly two months and the Xmas holidays before she really began to notice the slow changes in her body. A pair of her jeans seemed tighter and there was a softness in her midriff.
“Whoa, am I developing a pot belly?” she asked herself, resolving to exercise and cut back. But of course it didn’t happen. She knew her aunt wasn’t really watching, the Cheerleading squad didn’t care, and she was getting now attention from guys that she hadn’t had before. Had she been more discerning she would have been able to see that it wasn’t her relaxed attitude towards food that was actually drawing the guys. What she had was a more happy disposition. But such nuances of understanding weren’t in her mental computer and her lifestyle change continued.
As the cheerleading session ended so did Trixie’s workouts. This left more time for socializing and eating and by March a doughiness was developing around her midriff but she didn’t care. She knew she’d gained. Her pink and green tube tops were tight in the tummy and by April were requiring her to wear an overblouse to hide budding love handles. She’d also had to stop wearing both of her pencil skirts and her panties and bra were leaving red marks.
In class she was aware that her tummy was ballooning over her waistband and she needed to be sure to keep it covered. By May she was enjoying snacks with her homework and buttery muffins for breakfast in he morning. Other things were starting her day as well. Everything told her that indulging in starchy breakfasts of waffles with strawberries and whipped cream along with snacks for six months had added some weight. She was finding the tightness of her clothes secretly exciting – and was amazed that her aunt wasn’t even noticing. When she looked in the mirror she saw not a fat girl but one who actually had a shape.
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