Campus Pigs-Chapter 9

“...And then he like, called me Chloe, and it's like, literally how could we have been making out that long and you didn't realize that I wasn't Chloe? Like, what would even make him think I was Chloe?” Zoey complained, already well into a several-minute rant about a slight from a shaggy-haired engineering major who was clearly playing both twins. 

Lindsey nodded, her mouth full. True to Abigail's instructions she was going into the second challenge full but not packed, a precarious balance intended to ensure that she’d be as heavy as possible for her weigh-in, but still have room for a food-based trial if need be. She was having what was considered a small meal for her these days, a single fast food combo that still consisted of a double-patted burger, a large fries, a large drink, and an additional order of onion rings. This would be two weeks' worth of cheat meals for the girl she was just last week, but after what she’d been through so far in her short time as the Phi Lambda pig, the greasy, caloric fare felt like a healthy respite. 

She took another large bite, barely tasting the salty, ketchup and mayo-drenched beef sandwiched between buttered buns as she fretted about what she was up against. Zoey continued to prattle on, valiantly questioning why her crush would assume she was her twin sister, but inexcusably unable to come to the obvious conclusion. Lindsey stared into space, offering a halfhearted ‘wow’, every few seconds to give the false impression she was listening. 

In reality, she was running Courtney's words over in her mind as she had been for the entirety of the day. Her time spent in class, her time spent eating, nothing was getting even a fraction of her full attention with Courtney's words bouncing relentlessly about her brain. 

A swimsuit competition. Even if it wasn't the challenge that was selected for today, the fact that it had been a challenge in the past meant Lindsey had 6 months of weekends to be worried about stuffing her softening form into a tiny string bikini and parading her jiggling new figure in front of absolutely everyone. In front of Brayden. 

She’d barely allowed herself to think about him for the entire week, instead opting to ignore his texts and pretend as if she were never selected, as if he hadn't already seen her make an absolute pig of herself at the pizza eating contest, but that cognitive dissonance was beginning to wear thin, even for her. There were things she had to address. She had to talk to Brayden, if at least to tell him that it was over, to make him aware that she couldn't deal with the pressure of trying to keep a guy as popular as he was while she blimped into an unrecognizable tub of lard. That her concerns over her waning attractiveness would drive her crazy, even if he were to actually commit. Brayden already wasn't the type to commit in the first place, so the idea that he’d lock things down with her right as she was being forced to pile on at least a hundred pounds was laughable, even in her state of denial. 

Worse than that, she still needed to talk to her coach. Those were emails she couldn't ignore, and she knew that if she didn't have a response for the intense former soccer capitan turned even more intense coach by Monday, she’d get an unexpected and unwelcome visit to one of her classes. The thought made her stomach turn, but pushing it down and moving past it was getting more difficult as more time elapsed.  

All of these thoughts were secondary in the moment to the fear of the second challenge that was rising in her like the tide, and each ebb and advance of the icy waters of her untenable emotions left her feeling eroded as the beaten upon shore. She hadn't realized just how much she’d been relying on Courtney and her seemingly never-ending well of knowledge about the contest, much less how much she’d been relying on the power of the Phi Lambda win streak, to make this whole process slightly easier on her. She was going to have to gain the weight regardless, that was unavoidable, but at least being on the winning team meant the advantage of preparation. Now, Abigail's beef with other house presidents and the contest's administrative staff meant that Lindsey was forced to go in blind, and that lack of accommodation was making the true weight of what she was going to have to do settle in on her for the first time. 

She knew she should still be grateful for the Phi Lambda perks, for the fact that at the end of this she’d win prize money, her sorority would win prize money, and Abigail might actually be pleased with her for the first time in her life, but it still didn't feel like enough. She needed the privileges they’d always received. She needed a heads-up about the kinds of things she was going to be forced to do. 

She mulled over the other possible options, trying her best to remember what Courtney had listed as Zoey droned on beside her. 

The contest was usually to display and gauge capacity, the goal being the determination of the strongest bets. She blushed at the unspoken thought, realizing that people were going to be betting about her. Probably more than the other pigs considering which house she was competing for. Dismissing the idea of a swimsuit competition from her mind due solely to her sheer lack of unwillingness to consider the possibility, she analyzed the other potential choices. 

A buffet or some other kind of public challenge sounded bad, but nowhere near as bad squeezing into a tiny bikini, and the other options that Courtney had presented had all been eating challenges. Lindsey could do another eating challenge. In fact, she could win one. She was sure of that, especially if she had a few drinks as the last week had proven very definitively. She could eat until she was ready to pop and still eat some more, and she knew that none of the other girls in the contest could’ve possibly pushed themselves as far as she had in just a week. 

Even as she ate the burger she didn't want she found herself feeling slightly hungry, or at least, feeling the difference between large but technically normal-sized meals and the feasts she had quickly grown to expect. She shoved a handful of fries in her mouth, wanting to finish up quickly so she could return to her room and think in silence, when Zoey grabbed her arm, her coffin-shaped acrylics digging into Lindsey's skin sharply in her urgent exuberance. 

“Wait,” Zoey breathed, eyes wide. “Do you think Zach is hooking up with Chloe too?”

Lindsey repressed a smile, the girl's naivety almost endearing, and shrugged, widening her eyes as well to mirror Zoey's shock. 

“I don’t know,” Lindsey lied, the story alone enough to make her certain that Zach was likely hooking up with both twins and a litany of other girls. “You should ask Chloe.”

“She's such a hoe,” Zoey griped, sliding back into her seat with a deadly glare plastered to her typically innocent face. “She thinks every guy likes her just because she’s blonde.”

Lindsey raised an eyebrow unconsciously, turning more fully to flick her gaze up to Zoey's bright yellow-blonde hair.

“Blonder,” Zoey explained, clocking the look immediately. 

Lindsey nodded, lips pressed together again to keep from laughing, and shoved down another handful of fries, immediately seeing the futility of trying to convince Zoey that her hair was the exact same shade of blonde as Chloe’s. The two girls were so interchangeably identical that it still took almost every sorority member several seconds to identify which was which, particularly when they were together. Abigail had given up before she even began trying, and addressed the twins as a singular worded ‘Chloe-or-Zoey’ in her more neutral moments, and ‘Thing One and Thing Two’ in her more authoritative. 

Lindsey hurriedly crammed down the rest of the meal, chugging the large coke at the very end, and left the couch burping incessantly and rubbing her gut, wandering to her room for a quick, anxiety-fueled nap before getting dressed. 

The second she slipped beneath her covers she realized she wouldn't be getting a wink of sleep, and instead stared up at the ceiling in the semi-darkened space, the lights off but a bit of sun still seeping through the closed curtains. 

It’s going to be an eating contest, she reassured herself, repeating the phrase as if it were a mantra. Just an eating contest, a simple eating contest. 

She lay in bed stifling more burps until she couldn't take the silence, then sat up, flicked on her lamp, and grabbed her cell phone to text Karina. She needed a friend. 

“I’m sure it’ll just be an eating contest,” Karina said, sitting cross-legged on Lindsey's bed and blessedly giving her the affirmation she’d been desperate to hear. “I mean, what else could it be? Especially with what Courtney told you.”

“Right?” Lindsey agreed, overjoyed to hear Karina’s agreement with her assessment of the situation despite the fact that it had no impact whatsoever on the actual outcome. “I mean, really, what else could it be? I’m just gonna eat like I’ve been doing, it’ll probably be less than I've been eating for a regular meal here, I win the female division, we get the points, we go home.”

“Exactly,” Karina confirmed with a nod. “It's gonna be easy peasy.”

She twisted her mouth, clearly in thought.

“What am I gonna wear?” Karina wondered aloud, her eyes popping open when she realized Lindsey was staring at her with a look of vague disdain. “I mean, what are you gonna wear?” she corrected sheepishly, acknowledging that the reason she’d come down in the first place was to help Lindsey find an outfit. “Ok, ok,” Karina began anew, pressing her hands together in a way that Lindsey knew meant business. “What's your goal? How do you wanna look?”

Lindsey twisted her mouth as well, their thinking faces as similar as their personality were antithetical. 

“Just… “ started, pausing as she realized she still wasn't quite sure what she wanted to say. “I guess I just don't wanna look fat,” she finished, looking down. “I don't know. I mean, I already think I look fat-”

“You don't,” Karina interjected hurriedly. “But go on.”

Lindsey rolled her eyes. 

“I already think I look fat, but after next week it won’t even be debatable, you know? “I guess I wanna look hot one more time. While I still can.”

“Hot,” said Karina, nodding. “We can do hot. I mean, first of all, your tits look great.”

“Do they?” Lindsey asked trepidatiously and a bit self-consciously, looking down to inspect the breasts that were growing both in size and sensitivity by what felt like the minute. 

“Swear,” said Karina with a nod. “I'm legit jealous. So we just pick something that's flowy, low cut, and not too tight around the stomach so you don’t feel bloated.”

“I’m a campus pig,” Lindsey replied dryly. “I’m always gonna feel bloated.”

“Well, you won't look bloated,” Karina went on cheerily, ignoring Lindsey's tone. “Ok, I'm gonna run and grab some stuff and you grab some stuff too. Oh!” she yelped, a sudden burst of inspiration clearly striking. “What about that green dress with the cut-out at the top?”

Lindsey frowned, and Karina, reading her like a book, shooed off her concerns with a wave of her hand. 

“I’m telling you, it makes sense. I have a plan.”

An hour and a half later Karina and Lindsey were both dressed to the nines, Karina's idea to crop and hem the tight green dress into a top and pair it with a wide, flowy skirt that successfully obscured Lindsey’s slightly protruding middle an unmitigated success that had left both parties delighted. 

Karina was sporting a high-cut dress that was modest in construction but still short enough to show off the tops of her thighs, and both girls had taken special care with their makeup and hair, sporting matching swept updos that Karina considered her specialty. Karina was bubbling with excitement and Lindsey with nerves, but the energy manifested itself in the same way: loud talking, nervous pregaming, and lots of fussing over the details of their outfits.

“Do you want another shot?” Karina asked, pushing the bottle of cheap, strawberry-flavored vodka that left both of their mouths with an acrid taste toward Lindsey. 

Lindsey shook her head, the logic she’d applied to her declination taking more than the foul taste of the alcohol into account. She didn't want to arrive at the challenge too drunk, and more than that, she figured that Abigail would kill her if she did. It had managed to work out in her first challenge, allowed her to come from nowhere as a contender to watch regardless of her Phi Lambda status, but cheap tricks and ploys weren’t Abigail's mode of operation, and the desire to win with a polished gameplan was almost as evident as her desire to win overall. 

“Oh c’mon,” Karina pressed, already well past tipsy and stumbling into the realms of drunkenness, a state that Lindsey would’ve shared had they been pregaming for any other event. 

“One more,” Lindsey relented, smiling despite herself at Karina's squeal of glee and taking a swig that likely equated to less than half a shot. 

There was something else that was bothering her, and it had nothing to do with the artificial strawberry taste. Lindsey had always been a lightweight, well able to hold her liquor, but typically incapable of controlling it once it was held. The fact that she never threw up meant going past her limit just got her drunk more quickly and kept her drunk for longer, but for the first time since she’d had her premier sip of alcohol at a house party in high school, three shots wasn’t enough to make her drunk. 

She’d realized almost instantly that it was due to her new habits. Her new, deeply enforced habits. It was why the football players on the defensive line always required at least half a bottle to be sloshed; the bigger the person, the more alcohol it took for them to feel the effects of the inebriation. 

Lindsey was definitely tipsy, she could feel the shots she had warming in her chest, but normally, three shots would have her feeling much looser, would have her far less concerned about the events scheduled to go down later that night. Instead, all she could think about was how much weight she must've gained for her tolerance to be increasing like this right before her eyes. 

It didn't feel like enough time, it was all happening too soon, but she swore as she sat on her bed she could feel the new layer of fat sitting atop her once lithe frame, swore she could feed a marked and noticeable difference. It was like the alcohol did nothing but heighten her awareness of her own form, and the acute knowledge that she had gained weight was making her feel a bit lightheaded. 

There was a rap on the door and Courtney popped her head in, smiling when she saw the two of them sitting on the bed with the bottle between them.

“Oh perfect, you’re already dressed,” she noted with a grin, looking them both up and down. “I was coming to tell you we’re leaving in like, 30, everybody else is still cussing out their straighteners and trying to get their eyeliner even.”

She stopped, cocking her head to the side. 

“Lindsey, is that your green dress?”

“It is her green dress,” Karina all but slurred, the fourth shot she’d slung back taking over. “It's her green dress and I turned it into her green shirt and she looks so hot that Brayden is gonna want to bite her,” she said in one breath, her hands flying and her eyes slightly glazed over. 

Courtney made eye contact with Lindsey and the two of them giggled, sweet Karina's penchant for immediate drunkenness a constant source of amusement for the whole house.

“You do,” Courtney offered, smiling a bit. “Look hot, I mean. The shirt looks great.”

“Yea for now,” Lindsey grumbled, delayed irritation at the mention of Brayden settling upon her. “Next week I'll be too big for it.”

“Nah,” said Courtney, looking around the room as if she’d misplaced something there. “You’d be surprised. You have a great figure, usually a lot of the initial weight will just make you look thick.” 

She laughed, turning back to Lindsey. 

“Like Zoey said last week. She’s a little….well, you know Zoey. But she's right.”

Lindsey sighed. 

“My boobs do feel bigger,” she admitted distractedly for the second time that night, grabbing her chest with both hands as if to gauge their heft. “My bras already feel tight.”

She blushed, realizing that in her slight intoxication she’d forgotten she really didn't know Courtney well enough for these kinds of conversations, and looked up to see Courtney giving her an odd expression. Lindsey blushed more deeply, stammering as she opened her mouth to explain herself, when Courtney’s eyes went wide.

“Oh,” Courtney cried, turning away suddenly. “I forgot I had to do this thing for Abby, shit.”

She was already out the door before her sentence was completed and called “see you in the kitchen” over her shoulder as she all but fled, her fear of Abigail's wrath at a forgotten assignment one that Lindsey both deeply understood and sensibly shared. 

“Where’s she going?” Karina asked with a wide, unfocused grin, and Lindsey grabbed her arm. “

“Let's go get you a snack before we leave.”

“Let's get you a snack before we leave,” Karina repeated, and Lindsey rolled her eyes, horrified at herself to realize that the suggestion wasn't all that unwelcome. 

Challenge day was the only day of the week she’d get to eat like a semi-normal person for at least eight hours, and yet she actually found herself craving a little snack, the speed at which she was growing accustomed to a constant state of side-splitting fullness more than alarming.  

The girls slowly trickled into the kitchen, Abigail the last to enter although it was unclear if that was by design or simply a product of her deeply intricate makeup look, and the high-pitched chatter filling the kitchen quickly quieted as Abigail gave them all the once over. 

“You look good,” she said to Vicky, producing a proud smirk from the girl and directing jealous, hateful glares towards Vicky from at least two other sisters. 

Abigail's compliments were so scarcely dispersed that each one was like an award, and Lindsey knew straight away that Vicky would be brandishing that medal for a good minute. 

“Alright ladies,” Abigail began, addressing the room in her trademark attention-dominating tone. “Tonight is challenge two. We’ve had issues we need to address which we’ll go over at a meeting tomorrow, 8am-”

She paused for a beat as the room began to groan, then silenced the disquietude with a single firm look. 

“8 am,” she continued more sternly. “Mandatory. With everything that's going on, I need every member of this house aware and ready to support Lindsey however necessary. I’ll be speaking with Megan tonight. As many of you already know, she's being a dick.”

An uneasy giggle spread throughout the girls, Abigail's propensity for clean language making the unexpected curse word both humorous and concerning, and Abigail ignored it and continued. 

“But if she thinks that’s going to stop us, she has another thing coming.”

She took two sudden steps forward, startling the group, and Lindsey nearly jumped out of her skin when Abigail unexpectedly grabbed her by the wrist and lofted her arm into the air. 

“Lindsey is the best competitor we’ve had in years,” she announced to the group. “She's going to blow every other house out of the water. Tonight, and for the rest of the competition.”

Karina cheered and the rest of the group followed suit, the lilt and heady interpolation of slightly drunken feminine voices recoloring the room as Lindsey balked at the attention and attempted to shy away from Abigail's uncharacteristic praise. 

“You show up tonight,” Abigail hissed in her ear, drawing close enough for Lindsey to feel her minty breath tickle her ear lobe. “You show up for your sisters, no matter what it costs you.”

Lindsey nodded, wanting to giggle at the laughable dramatics, but too anxious to do anything but pick at her nails and wish for another drink. 

“We didn't get any info,” Abigail went on, her whisper as laden with aggression as the average person’s shout. “We didn't get anything. We’re going in blind, for the first time in a long time. Do not let them trip up the best sorority on this campus with their petty, pedestrian jealousy. That's all it is. They’re jealous of me, they’re jealous of you, they’re jealous of everyone in this room. And you're going to show them exactly why that's the case. Do you understand me?”

Lindsey nodded, the intense pep talk striking more fear in her heart than inspiration but somehow strengthening her resolve. She could do this. The harder she went, the more people would think she was a loyal friend to her sisters. That was it, and that was all. They wouldn't associate her climbing weight or her public displays of gluttony to her. Instead, they would ascribe it solely to her competitiveness, to the competitiveness of her chapter. She steeled herself against the thoughts she’d been fighting all week, knowing full well that one chink in her mental armor would allow a slim arrow of doubt to pierce her and draw blood she couldn't afford to lose.