What the hell, right? I couldn't exactly blow all of Mom's money, but maybe ten bucks for a lottery ticket plus a few snacks would be enough to whet my appetite for revenge. I was already making her pay dealer mark-up on milk. I'm pretty sure if I went any higher, she'd kick me out.
"This and the most expensive lottery ticket you have." I said confidently to the cashier, "Here's my ID."
The Mel in the photo was a good seventy pounds lighter than me, but that was alright. I really, really don't think she actually checked to make sure my fat ass was nineteen anyway. I grabbed my treasure trove of goodies (and milk) and waddled out to the car, where I saw Alice expertly and appreciatively chowing down on the extra hashbrown I'd ordered for her.
"Did you get milk?" Alice asked with her mouth full
"A lot more than that." I grunted as I plopped down, my poor car's suspension groaning in agony, "I scored us a few snacks too."
"Won't Mother be mad?" Alice wiped her mouth of all the crumbs she'd accumulated throughout the course of her breakfast, wiping it on her shirt as it rose with the drastic swell of her chunky pot, "I thought that card was only supposed to be used in an emergency...?"
"Yeah, but she's always mad at me." I tossed my chubby sister a bag of Cheeto's Puffs, "Besides, I'm just comfort shopping. She knows I'll pay her back."
I think Alice expected me to crank the car and get home, but I was too focused on my Slim Jim to really care about getting back to the place where I was constantly nagged at for my eating habits. And for influencing Alice's eating habits. And for being alive, basically. The more I thought about it, the more I ate. I swallowed my Slim Jim in half a minute, flat, and moved on to the EL Fudge cookies I'd also purchased. And then to the mini bag of sour cream and onion chips.
She made me so mad. Just, constantly, all the time. I was really glad she finally got a job when Dad left, because that meant she'd be out of the house for at least a few hours every day of the week and I wouldn't have to put up with her bitching at me at literally every hour of the day to lose weight.
Stop eating! Munch. You're such a pig! Chomp. You're such a brat! Chew.
As I felt around for the last bit of snack food I'd bought (a double-pack of donut sticks, which I didn't realize Alice was already going to town on) I felt something else in the bag. Something I'd forgotten about...
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