After the novelty of meeting Sam’s roommate had worn off, over the next few days Alice’s focus returned to her school studies and hanging out with her core group of friends. She didn’t run into Sam’s pierced compatriot in that time. Sam had said Paul was a sophomore like Megan and the boobalicious girl didn’t maintain much of a social life as she got more addicted to the boob tube, so she had no input either.
There were plenty of other things for Alice to focus on, even excusing herself early from movie night once because of a project she’d started in her Clothing Construction class. Alice was deep in the reverie of her sewing when the buzz of her cell phone brought her out of the zone. She jumped, not expecting a call so soon after just speaking with her mother the other day (and having to fudge the amount of pudge she’d gotten at Buttercombe). Only it wasn’t a call or a voice mail, it was a text. This bewildered Alice, unless it was her big (big big big) sister Mel that was contacting her?
She opened up the text:
Tomorrow @ 3:50, meet me @ outer quad of the Culinary Building
--P
Alice was unnerved by the message, dropping the phone onto her desk in fright when it buzzed again, another message from the same unknown number.
Tell no one else
And that was what Alice was just about to do, asking one of her friends about the message. Was it a prank? Were there sinister intentions? Oh no, she’d seen too many films during movie nights where mysterious texts like this always led to something bad.
But, could something bad like that really happen at a sweet place like Buttercombe? The quad in front of the culinary building was a public place, wide open where people went to and fro from classes. It would have been much worse had the text asked Alice to come somewhere isolated like the ill-used gym equipment shed or something.
And who was P? The thought plagued Alice over the next night and morning, lingering in the back of her mind during her other classes. But as 3:45 approached she ultimately decided to head out to where the text indicated.
Besides the old architecture Buttercombe kept fantastic landscaping. The grass was always trim and the trees were bordered by little flower beds. The sidewalks were nice and wide both to allow for faculty golf carts and the more hefty students to pass by each other. And in places like the quad there was exquisite wrought iron outdoor furniture, chairs and tables. In all honesty Alice had never seen anyone use these features, most like herself hung out with friends indoors. The early November wind was quite chilly as well, only mitigated by the amount of sun that had warmed the grounds this late into the day.
As Alice paced the quad she saw someone sitting at one of the patio tables, which had to have been her mysterious contact. And as she walked closer, lugging her textbooks she recognized--”Paul?”
Sam’s quiet but intense roommate looked up from her own textbook sitting between a half drunk gallon of milk and a jar of peanut butter. “Good you came, Alice.” She offered a seat.
Alice wearily sat down, still a little freaked out from meeting Sam’s roommate last week. “What’s this about? An-And could you not text me,” she added, struggling to find courage, “I don’t have a texting plan.” And how did you even get my phone number, though that question was left unsaid.
“Oh. Sorry.” Paul was scraping the sides of the peanut butter jar with a fork. “I skipped breakfast.” After getting a gob of peanut butter she slowly licked at it, leaving Alice to stew in silence for a few moments as she had no idea what to say next.
After Paul drank right from the milk jug she wiped her mouth off with her sleeve. “I’m not one to sugar coat things so I’m just going to say it: Sam is fat.”
Alice gulped, ears burning. Yet again Paul had managed to knock Sam for a loop with whatever she said. Alice was very aware of Sam’s further weight gain given the tailoring she had done on Sam’s uniform. Still Alice could never say that to her friend’s face.
Paul continued to speak. “I know she doesn’t show it but Sam is quite worried about how fat she’s getting. She doesn’t have an easy time confiding in others. I know it’s not a guess because I’m sure she invited you to our room to talk to you about it.”
“What?” Alice said.
Paul’s voice never changed tone. “Haven’t you ever noticed a time Sam was struggling to find words.” It wasn’t posed as a question.
As Alice thought back this revelation brought some clarity to the last times she had been alone with Sam. Right when Alice hd Sam trussed up in the middle of measurements she had sounded so despondent looking at herself in the mirror. And when she’d been trying to start a conversation on the spur of the moment invitation to her room. Things that in retrospect seemed obvious that there was something Sam was trying to get off her (recently up a size) chest.
“I know she eats a lot, and, yeah.” Alice was still beriff of words to say. She’d been noticing the weight increase in all of her friends, though Sam’s was worst of all. She looked ready to pass both Megan and Ronnie any day now.
“I’m going to tell you something Sam wouldn’t admit to,” Paul said, waving her peanut butter fork around. “Sam got here on scholarship. Her family wouldn’t have been able to pay tuition for Buttercombe otherwise. They’re poor. Really really poor. There were plenty of times their food stamps wouldn’t hold out for the full month so they mostly went hungry.”
Alice felt a pang in her chest as she thought about the first time she’d met Sam, stuffing tacos into her face. Of course to someone that never had a full three squares a day coming to a place like Buttercombe with its elaborate cafeteria must have seemed like heaven.
“And don’t get me wrong. It’s good that Sam has a healthy appetite. And that she’s no longer malnourished.” Paul screwed the cap back on her peanut butter. “But she never thought the weight would catchup up to her like this. Her mind was so conditioned to being in a starvation mode that now that having a stable source of food is no longer a problem she can’t stop eating everything she sees. And she’s afraid of going soft. Girls like Sam, girls like us,” Paul shrugged, adding herself to her terms, “had to survive the streets by staying tough and active. Gaining too much weight makes it hard for Sam to move and it's a loss of an advantage we have over the majority of Buttercombe.”
“But why contact me?” Alice asked, still not seeing how she factored into the whole equation. “You’re her roommate, why don’t you just tell her?”
Paul shook her head. “It doesn’t work like that. Sam and I share stuff because we’re chill, we each do our own thing. She’ll tell me about being on food stamps but not her friends. And on the flipside me commenting on her weight isn’t going to help her, it’s just going to be the same as her own perspective. You follow?”
Alice bit her lip in defeat.
“Her friends she will listen to. She really likes hanging out with you guys and it's a good thing for her. Sam was trying but failing to try and reach out to you, Alice.” The blondes face still indicated confusion so Paul sighed. “You’ve gained the least amount of weight out of all of your friends. Sam thinks that’s a sign of your strong willpower, especially when you resized her uniform the other day.”
“W-W-Willpower?!” For the timid doormat that was Alice, being told she had any scrap of willpower sounded out of character. What she had were many anxities about doing well in school and not trying to gain weight. She was ashamed of the pudge she now sported around her middle after her mother’s ceasley warnings about watching her figure at Buttercombe, her ginormous older sister being the most prominent warning.
“Come on, wouldn’t you help out a friend in need?” Paul yacked as if she hated resorting to cliche.
Alice gulped. “N-No, I w-w-will.” This concern Paul had for Sam was quite surprising. Alice would have never guessed the chilly girl she’d met last week had a caring side.
“Good,” Paul said. “You can’t outright tell Sam you’re going to help her that way, she still has trouble with accepting help from people. So you’re going to have to be discreet. Play your cards right and Sam will subconsciously pick up on your aid and get back to her old self. Specifically, you’ll have to focus on a key thing…”
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