"It's a relief that you moved in here. I'm bored out of my mind but my Dad makes me stay here while he's at work. Want a soda?"
Bill settles you into a lounge chair.
"Maybe you want to get some rays. I'll be right back."
"What the heck," you think. Bill seems fine so you might as well show him all you've got. You take off your sweater and plop down on the lounger.
By the time Bill is back with diet soda's and carrot sticks you are comfortable, gut spilling over your shorts. Bill looks over your spillage and grins.
"Nice gut." he says. "I've been trying to grow one myself but it's not so easy when your Mom is a dietician and your Dad's a newcaster. Dad's got a contract that gets him canned if he gets over 200 pounds. He's always on a diet and all my Mom ever buys is health food."
Bill rubs the small belly he's managed to grow ruefully.
"I stayed with my Grams over the Summer. Packed on 25 pounds. Mom had a fit. Now I have to lose the gut or stay grounded. I'm guessing you don't have that kind of problem."
"It's just me and Dad." You answer with a chuckle. "My Dad's pretty big and nobody has ever told him to slim down. He pretty much lets me do what I want- so long as I keep up my schoolwork. You might be guessing that mostly what I want to do is eat. You have to eat diet sodas and carrot sticks? That's downright torture."
"I know, Pete. I know."
You exchange history with Bill. He shared an interest in video games and confesses that he was a hardcore jock in high school, almost getting a free ride at state until his high school coach pulled strings to get his second string son the scholarship.
"Some how after that, muscles didn't seem so important. My chest got flabby and my sixpack swelled. I was pissed at first, hated the comments but one day I began to like it- had fantasies about being your size. Then my Mom started ragging on me and making me diet."
You like Bill and would be fine spending the afternoon with him but diet soad and carrot sticks are going to ruin your sunny disposition.
"Gotta go." you tell him. "I'd love to stay but a big guy's got to eat. I'd probably start chewing on your arm in another 15 minutes."
"Yeah," Bill mumbled. "I understand."
"But hey." you say. "Why don't you ask your Dad if you can come over to my house. It's just next door. You can keep an eye on things. I won't starve. Heck there's always food at our house. You can chow down too. What do you say?"
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