Amber 5

Amber rustled under the soft sheets of her bed as she heard her alarm clock go off next to her. She felt a distinctly cold and unwelcome draft on her back and rear, covered only by a bra strap and a too-small pair of underwear. This happened almost everyday; Sally had never gotten her larger sheets to accompany Amber’s growing body, so they tended to bunch up around her belly rolls. Not that she minded too much.

After lifting herself off the bed with some effort, she surveyed the bedroom in search of an outfit to wear for class. Amber recognized early on in her college years that she was never willing to look for clothes early in the morning that were farther than a three foot radius from her bed; whether this was a result of her getting progressively heavier or just sheer laziness, she hadn’t decided. Amber began taking to throwing all of her perfectly clean clothes and undergarments into random piles on chairs and tables, and just choosing from them. Sally thought this was weird, and jumped on the opportunity to claim all of the closet space for herself. Amber sighted a pair of size 28 capris and a pink sweater and waddled her way over to the bathroom to change.

As she opened the door, she heard Sally’s voice coming from the small kitchenette that adjoined the main room of their apartment. “C’mon, chubbikens, your breakfast is getting cold!” she called out in a sing-songy tone. “I buy this pancake mix in bulk for your fat butt, not mine!”

Amber giggled at this. “I’ll be out in a second, just gotta make myself presentable,” she said as she opened the bathroom door. Her first instinct was to step on the sleek, enticing scale in the corner. Amber had realized during her stay at the fat camp a few weeks earlier that the livestock scale they’d bought had been extremely inaccurate (perhaps she should have been tipped off by the fact that the seller was a semi-literate middle-aged man with a glass eye who kept mumbling to himself). The new model, more conventional but whose digital readout made it that much more alluring, beckoned to Amber for her to find her number. She knew Sally wouldn’t be pleased (she always looked forward to Wednesday weigh-ins), but Amber couldn’t resist. She inched closer to the scale, her whole body jiggling with every step. Amber had to feel around for it once she got next to it, as her belly blocked it from her view. She stepped on, and held her stomach in so she could see the numbers. The number spiraled around, finally settling on 3-6-5. It wasn’t a nice round number like 450, but she would take it.

Amber finally took the time to look in the mirror, something she hadn’t really had time for since the new semester. Her face, which previously hadn’t changed all that much from her high school years, had recently become much rounder and chubbier, and her double chin was now very noticeable. Amber appreciated this; she just wanted her high school years to wash away completely, and now she didn’t have her 17 year-old self’s visage looking back at her. She looked down, and recognized how much her boobs had grown, now clearly past Sally’s infamous knockers. Her belly, one huge paunch, now completely covered her front, and her wide, soft hips bulged over her waistband. Amber could feel her wide butt brushing one of the towels hanging behind her, and turned around to see it for herself. Each huge cheek was threatening to rip apart the fabric of her underwear, which reminded her that is was finally time to change. After having some minor trouble zipping up the capris, she was finally ready for the world.

“What were you doing in there?” Sally asked with an arched eyebrow.

“Just being a little vain,” Amber replied, smiling. Just then, she caught a look at the watch on Sally’s wrist. “8:25? Damn it!” Amber yelled. “I’m gonna be late.”

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” Sally asked with a pout.

Amber groaned as she picked her backpack up off the couch. “I can’t be late to Mr. Gerard’s class again; he’s already mad at me for the last couple of times as it is.”

“Fine,” Sally replied, disappointedly. “Remember, you said you’d do my French paper for me today. I need to turn it in by 3 or they’ll put me on academic probation?”

“I’m not going to have the time—“ Amber started.

“You promised.” Sally retorted, in a adolescent tone.

Amber sighed. “Alright,” she said, annoyed, as she walked out the door. “Bye.”

“Bye,” Sally said under her breath, arms crossed.

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By the time Amber arrived at the classroom a mere seven minutes later, she was flat-out exhausted. She had tried jogging a short distance, and then remembered why she hadn’t attempted that in months. Every part of her huge body jiggled furiously, and she knew how silly she must have looked. By the time she flung open the doors to the classroom, she was just ready to find her desk and have this little ordeal over with. This is when she realized everybody, including the teacher, was staring right at her.

“Ms. Jensen, the class has already started. Would you please take your seat?” Mr. Gerard gestured toward Amber’s desk.

“R-right,” Amber stammered. She maneuvered her way through the various rows of students, accidentally brushing against several people with her rear, until she finally found her seat. She had to suck in her stomach just to be able to fit between the chair and the desk, and when she breathed out, the top roll of her stomach spilled onto her desk. Her wide bottom hung over the edges of the chair to such an extent that it was almost hard for anyone else to even see the chair itself. Amber was normally turned on by stuff like this, but at the moment, she was too stressed to care. She hated acting all antsy and stupid like this, it was so…high school. She told herself to stop and get to work.

She took out a few sheets of paper and a French-English dictionary and began writing Sally’s paper. Over the next hour, she worked diligently, tuning out the voices around her. At the end of class, after everyone else had left, Mr. Gerard called her up to the front of the room.

“What were you doing during class?”

“I was taking, um, notes.”

Mr. Gerard wasn’t convinced. “Then what were we talking about?”

“French Revolution, right?”

“Amber, that was last week.” Mr. Gerard sighed. “You were working on a paper for Mrs. DuBois’ French class, I recognize the book.”

Amber started blushing with nervousness. “It isn’t for me, it’s for a friend.” ,P> “And that’s supposed to make it better? You need to concentrate on yourself and your own work, and not be carrying somebody else.”

Amber had no answer, and just walked out quietly, with her head down.

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Sally was watching TV when Amber came through the door in a huff.

“What’s wrong?” Sally asked, looking away from the screen.

Amber threw her things down angrily on the couch. “I got in trouble today in class for doing your stupid paper. And I like Mr. Gerard’s class! I can’t believe you got me into that situation.”

Sally got up from her chair. “Got you into it? You said you’d help me out!”

“Help you out? You haven’t even looked at any of your books this year. If it weren’t for me, you’d have gotten kicked out of school.”

“So? I thought you wanted me here.”

“Well, not if you’re just going to be taking advantage of me!” replied Amber, angrily.

Sally was stung. “If we’re going to talk about taking advantage of people, I help you get fat, spending all my money on food for you, and you can’t even do a stupid paper for me?”

Amber walked over to her backpack and ripped out the pieces of paper. “I wrote it, okay? God.” Amber paused for a little. “If you can’t take a little bit of responsibility for anything in your life, then…I don’t know if we can be together anymore.”

“Wh-what?” Sally couldn’t believe this was happening.

Amber picked up her bag and walked out the door, mumbling something about picking up her stuff some other time. Sally stood in the hallway with tears in her eyes, watching Amber walk out of her life. What she couldn’t see was that Amber was crying too.

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Tired and weary after having walked across campus, Amber settled herself under the overhang of a bus stop and fumbled through her bag for her cell phone. She dialed a few numbers, and waited for an answer. “Hey, Megan? I-it’s Amber, from Newspaper last year? Yeah. Um…could I stop by your place? I need help.”