The Straight and (not so) Narrow: Part 3
Added 2025-12-18 00:26:25 +0000 UTCThe next day Shane awoke before his alarm, even an order from Can’t Sleep Cookies not enough to make him sleep through the day he’d been preparing for for weeks, and sped through his morning routine, rushing so much as he got ready that his hands trembled as he fastened the cream colored buttons of his collared shirt. He’d made his first few Sunday morning appearances in a full suit and was embarrassed to discover that the congregation generally leaned far more casual. Instead, he’d settled for button up shirts and black slacks, a compromise he felt to be an appropriate middle ground, and had assembled quite a collection over the past few months.
He left half an hour earlier than he’d planned, sitting nervously in the church parking lot until he saw other parishioners arrive, and sat nervously in a back pew for the length of the message, attempting to focus but mentally scouring his notes and re-rehearsing his speech. The benediction was given, service ended, and Shane all but bolted for the chapel doors, eager to get to the room his small group was scheduled to meet in and begin writing his notes on the white board.
“Hey,” a cheery voice called behind him as Shane felt a gentle hand on his back. “Shane!”
He turned, already fighting the smile that was tugging at the corners of his lips.
“Hi Lydia,” he responded before turning around, positive he would recognize that chipper, bubbly voice anywhere.
He took in the bright, open face of Lydia, a longtime member of the congregation who’d been integral in welcoming him to the church when he’d first wandered through the doors with a lost expression. Lydia was heavily involved in the church's many ministries and was also leading a small group beginning that day, meaning she and Shane had been in close proximity for the last several weeks of preparations and meetings.
While Shane was committed to the lifestyle he’d promised to uphold, Lydia was a temptation even more alluring than the idea of a cold beer or a late night cigarette. She was beautiful, exactly his type, and her sweet, demure personality only contributed to his attraction. She was a short, petite woman with cornsilk blond hair and expressive hazel eyes so hypnotic one glance made Shane feel like he was floating through another galaxy. Her style, which typically consisted of long skirts, flowy tops, ballerina flats, and simple, barely nautical gold jewelry, was the antithesis of what Shane typically searched for before turning his life around, but he now found her simple, modest way of dressing another point of endearment.
He often caught himself staring wistfully at her wisps of blond hair, wishing he could spend more time with her. He was serious about what he'd said to Ron however, and no matter how badly he wanted to invite Lydia for an after church brunch, he was committed to remaining single and focusing on his improvement.
“Are you ready?” she asked earnestly, snapping him out of his longing thoughts. “I’m so nervous.”
“Me too,” Shane admitted, gripping his binder full of notes more tightly. “I was actually gonna head to the room to set up, are you guys-”
“There you are,” another voice cried from across the now bustling fellowship room. “You’re not gonna get away that easy.”
Shane sighed, shaking his head and holding back a chuckle as his accuser approached.
“Hi Emily,” he greeted with mock annoyance.
“This guy,” Emily began, already hugging a giggling Lydia in greeting. “This guy sneaks away from fellowship every Sunday and thinks we don’t notice, not this time!”
She shoved a napkin wrapped bundle in Shane's hands and he opened it to find one of the store bought chocolate chip cookies that the church set out as part of the fellowship hour refreshments.
“You're gonna eat a cookie and chit chat just like the rest of us,” Emily informed him with a grin.
Emily was one of Shane's oldest friends and a huge part of the reason he’d begun attending church in the first place. She had been a faithful attendee since childhood, and when he revealed to her that he was thinking of transforming his life she became his number one supporter, helping him stay accountable and inviting him to church constantly until he finally accepted.
He and Emily had only grown closer in the last few months of his attendance, and he felt incredibly lucky to have a piece of his old life in his new life, despite the way their relationship had changed. He’d always flirted with Emily harmlessly enough, halfway hoping that the raven haired, dark eyed beauty would take him seriously one day, but after she’d helped him turn his life around he saw her as a sister and nothing more.
“I can’t leave anyway,” Shane informed her, unwrapping the cookie and taking a bite. “I have small group.”
“Oh, that's today?” Emily asked. “I thought those were starting next week,” she said, glancing over her shoulder to where Assistant Pastor Morgan stood holding court with a group of families. “Well, good luck you two!”
She paused, as if reading the tension in Shane's smile.
“It's gonna go great Shane,” she promised. “Everybody there wants to be there, they’re all rooting for you. Alright? Actually, we’re all rooting for you,” she corrected, slinging her arms around Lydia’s shoulders. “Right?”
“Right,” Lydia confirmed, her voice a wave of reassurance Shane hadn't been expecting. “The kids are gonna love you.”
“Kids?” Shane asked, anxiety daggering his chest. “I thought-”
“Not kids,” Emily corrected. “They’re in college.”
“They’re kids to me,” Lydia clarified with a laugh. “Half of them hadn't even graduated high school by the time I finished my bachelors, it makes me feel old,” she laughed. “Makes us feel old, actually,” she joked, indicating playfully to Shane, Emily, and herself. “If I'm old, you guys are old too.”
Emily stuck out her tongue and Lydia giggled further, turning back to Shane.
“They’re the hardest audience, is all. You're young at heart, so if you can get them, you’ve got the room.”
Shane nodded, well aware of the potential challenge of enticing social media addicted college students with a spoken lecture.
“Oh!” Emily said with a start, grabbing Shane's wrist. “You have to come meet the Colemans, they’re the nicest couple.”
Shane allowed himself to be dragged from one member of the congregation to the next as Emily made introductions, now regretting his choice to avoid fellowship every week as it meant meeting a roomful of strangers at once, and finally slipped away to his group's room to prepare.
He wrote out his talking points, reorganized his index cards, and checked his watch nervously every few minutes, nearly jumping out of his skin when the first attendee opened the door.
He smiled and squeaked out a hello to the middle aged man who took a seat at the front of the room, and a few seconds later the door opened again, ushering in more students. The room filled quickly, a decent mix of both age and gender, and Shane felt his heart pounding in his ears as he greeted each person.
Once every seat was filled, he stood and turned to address the room.
“Hi everyone,” he began, willing his voice to remain steady. “I hope everyone enjoyed the service this morning,” he said, leading to nods, smiles, and a chorus of affirmative murmuring from the group, easing his nerves slightly.
“In this course we’ll be discussing the book of John,” he began, his overpreparation allowing him to slip into autopilot mode.
Before he knew it, as if he’d blinked and entered some sort of time warp, the class was over. He’d introduced the course, gotten through the first lesson, answered follow up questions, and explained the take home workbook without a hitch, and he was so relieved he could've shed a tear.
“Thanks so much for coming,” he called as the church members filed out, chatting. “See you all next week!”
Following an uneventful first day of lessons, Shane was even more committed to the level of preparation that he felt led to his success, which meant doubling down on his daily lecture practice and his nightly sleep hack. As with any repetitive actions in his life, Shane quickly became accustomed to the habits he’d developed over the last week, and found that thoughts of the gym and meal preps were easily replaced by constant food deliveries and lazing about on the couch rereading his notes.
His constant stuffings, massive increase in calories, and decrease in physical activity was taking a toll on him that he barely recognized, and while the thought of getting back in the gym often nagged at the back of his mind, his performance in the classroom felt far more pressing than his performance on the weight bench.
His second class went as well as his first and Shane was beginning to grow a tad more confident in his ability to lead, all while increasing the frequency and intensity of his studies. The members of the class often had great questions that Shane hardly felt equipped to answer, and he was currently knee deep in three different theologian’s writings in order to best explain the intricacies of the text. That entirely sedentary activity was a lot less boring with a mouthful of food, and Shane had taken to ordering a snack before and after his study sessions to reward himself.
He’d gotten groceries delivered for the first time after being offered a Deliveri-Bee coupon, and he took full advantage of the promised 35% off. He’d ordered packages of cookies in a futile attempt to cut back on his nightly Can't Sleep delivery, he’d ordered chips and pretzels because crunchy snacks helped him focus, he’d even ordered bags of sour candy to help him avoid the urge to smoke. Notably absent from his order were the vegetables and protein that typically characterized his diet, but he told himself that he had no time to cook with his new responsibilities. He felt very connected to what he was now certain was his purpose, and didn’t mind making more sacrifices from his old lifestyle to achieve it.
The Saturday night before his third class Shane was reclined on the couch, eyes flying over his laptop screen as he pushed another oreo into his mouth. While the pre-packaged alternative didn’t hold a candle to the options offered at Can't Sleep Cookies and therefore did nothing to reduce the size of his order, he did find the creme filled treats to be an excellent studying snack, and often found himself working through the package in a matter of hours.
Entirely unbenounced to him, his frame was beginning to reflect his new eating habits, and his recent calorie glut left him looking softer all over, bloated with a layer of new fat he hadn't been carrying less than a month before. His abs had quickly grown soft and disappeared, a change that Shane noted, but considering that a sculpted six pack was a very recent development on his body in the first place, hardly cared enough to miss.
He’d yet to notice however, the quickly developing roundness of his ever softening middle, nor the way thighs, arms, and chest were bulking out with new mass. Due to the baggy clothes he’d been sporting because of his discomfort with his formerly svelte figure, Shane had yet to notice the weight piling up, and the more he overfed himself, the hungrier he became.
His typical nightly order at Can’t Sleep now included 7 cookies and three large glasses of milk, a startling escalation from just a few weeks ago. He finished this final meal of the night so stuffed that he often found it too taxing to stagger off to bed and instead lay beached on the couch as sleep overtook him. The massive increase in sodium and sudden weight gain seemed to be affecting his face nearly as much as his gut, and while he failed to attribute the issue to his diet, even he noticed how bloated and puffy he was appearing each morning. He’d decided that his newly swollen features were a result of insufficient sleep, leading to the addition of the third glass of milk to his nightly order.
He reached for another cookie, frowning as he realized he’d polished off the package, and grabbed for the half eaten bag of salt and vinegar chips next to instead, stuffing down a handful so absently he hardly seemed to realize it. Eating, or more accurately, overeating, had become his default, and between deliveries and constant snack consumption there was hardly a moment out of the day when his mouth wasn't full.
He finished his nightly feast of cookies and the three servings of Can’t Sleep’s addictively creamy milk and closed his eyes contentedly, satisfied with more than just his final meal of the day. He was headed into his third class tomorrow and he finally felt semi confident, finally wasn't dreading the sound of his alarm the next morning.
Shane scarfed down the last of the three breakfast burritos he’d had delivered as he got ready that morning, already running a bit late due to his body's recent necessity for an early morning breakfast. He brushed his hands off on each other to rid them of any crumbs and grabbed a random pair of slacks hanging in his closet, his usual Sunday attire. He stepped into each leg and tugged the pants towards his waist, confused to meet more resistance than he was used to, and grabbed the pants button flaps only to be stopped in his tracks.
They didn't quite close.
His gut, protruding with a roundness he’d assured himself was nothing more than bloat from his increased dairy consumption, pushed between the two flaps and prevented them from meeting, and Shane held a hand to his middle in irritation, never once considering the annoyance as anything more than an inability to properly digest lactose.
He grabbed each side and tugged, grunting a little, and found the pants still refused to close, if only by a few centimeters. He took a deep breath, sucked in, and finally fastened his slacks, breathing out in relief as the button slid into place. The waistband immediately cut into him with a tightness he’d never experienced in any piece of clothing before and he shifted uncomfortably, tugging at it as if there were an inch of free room.
I don't have time for this, he thought, turning away from his closet and letting the experience of struggling to button his pants for the first time slip from his mind as quickly as it had happened.
“Hey!” A voice called from down the hall as Shane was locking his classroom after a successful third lesson. “Shane!”
He turned to see Assistant Pastor Morgan striding towards him with a wide smile.
“I’ll walk you out?” she offered as she neared.
Shane nodded.
“I’ve been hearing great things,” Pastor Morgan all but sang. “I told you you would be great.”
Shane grinned.
“Really? People have been…Wow. Yea. I feel like it's going well. I feel like I'm really connecting, you know?”
Pastor Morgan nodded.
“I can tell. You’ve been chatting with people during fellowship, you don't sit in the back pew anymore in service, you’re really making an effort to become part of the community. It's such a joy to see.”
Shane beamed, almost embarrassed at how thrilled he was to receive her compliments. Validation from someone he reported that much was something he didn't realize he was missing in his formerly structureless life, and Pastor Morgan’s praise touched a long dormant emotion, the same triggered when he’d agreed to lead a small group in the first place.
“Oh,” Pastor Morgan exclaimed, stopping in her tracks. “I completely forgot about the leftovers, just one sec,” she said, turning away from the parking lot and back towards the fellowship hall.
“Leftovers?” Shane asked.
“Yea,” Pastor Morgan explained over her shoulder. “The New Testament had loaves and fishes, but we have cookies and brownies. Come on, help me with the boxes and you can take a few home.”
Shane left that day with 2 boxes worth of nearly expired chocolate chip cookies and demolished them over the course of a few days, eating so much and so frequently with the goal of finishing the cookies before they expired that he felt his jaw growing tired. In order to help him through the cookies he’d purchased several more gallons of milk through grocery delivery, but he found it so lacking compared to the sweet, silky texture of the milk from his midnight snacks that he’d begun to mix heavy cream into his glasses, creating a concoction he found lacking, but passable.
That kind of gluttony was becoming commonplace so quickly, and the more Shane ate, the hungrier he felt. As the weeks went on his days blended into one meal after another, one delivery after the next, and the only times he was forced out of his ever tightening gym clothes to face the effects that his overconsumption was having on his body were on Sundays.
Otherwise, he sat beached on his couch in boxers so tight the puffy fat begging to encircle his waist bulged outwards even more dramatically than it otherwise would, quivering with Shane's every movement. Beyond the love handles, the gut he was developing had become a permanently rounded, firm ball of fat that was growing heavy and more bloated by the day, and the ever swelling orb was now bulging into Shane's lap whenever he was sitting down, which was 90% of his day. His thighs were straining the boxers underequipped for the size he’d become, and his fattening face was just begging to sprout a double chin.
As vehemently as he attempted to ignore his expansion, the impact that his growing body was having on his day to day life was growing more difficult for Shane to ignore. By his second month as a small group leader he’d been forced to replace his church wardrobe, even the baggy fit of his clothes not enough to keep them from constantly tearing or bursting open, occurrences that Shane thanked god had only happened in private as he’d attempted to get ready. The changes to his body were becoming more and more obvious but Shane couldn't stop himself, couldn't break his new pattern of overfilling his now hefty gut every available second.
He glutted himself whenever he could and attempted to convince himself that he couldn’t feel his frame getting thicker and flabbier, couldn't feel the weight piling on at breakneck speed while stretch marks crawled their way across his impressively gelatinous love handles. He could feel his body in motion as he walked now, feel the uncontrollable oscillations of the fat bulging off of him jiggling in separate directions, and the stress of the situation only made him hungrier, only convinced him he needed to increase the size of his nightly snack to get more rest.
Can't Sleep Cookies had introduced a line of ice cream, and a pint was now included on each of Shane's pre bedtime orders. He’d taken to melting the carton in the microwave and drinking it straight down, a method he utilized to both save time and avoid brain freeze, leaving him sucking down 1500 calories of butterfat vanilla in ever-decreasing timespans. The old Shane would never chug melted ice cream while his belly peeked out of the bottom of an xl t-shirt, but Shane didn't identify with the old Shane anymore. His habits were so different, his mentality was so different, his entire life was so different that Shane somehow found it easier to justify the insatiable pig he’d become, to somehow separate it from himself and who he truly was.
