Campus Pigs- Chapter 8, Part 2 (Now Available for all Fiction Tiers)

She plodded slowly into the kitchen, stifling burps from the unwelcome jostling of her overfull stomach as usual, to find Courtney, Abigail, and Ellie sitting at the kitchen counter, all three huddled around a laptop Lindsey immediately recognized as Courtney's. Courtney and Ellie looked up when Lindsey walked in but Abigail's eyes didn’t shift from the screen, no frown present on her face but her displeasure still plain as day. 

“Did you finish breakfast?” Abigail asked curtly, acknowledging Lindsey's presence with her eyes still glued to the screen. 

Lindsey nodded, realizing even as she began the silent affirmation that Abigail wasn't paying attention. 

“Yes,” she instead murmured quietly, sidling around to the island to join them on the high, partially backed stools that lined the central slab of granite. 

“Ellie, get her a snack,” Abigail instructed. 

“The cupcakes are almost ready,” Courtney offered, and Abigail somehow rolled her eyes without breaking the screen's gaze. 

“But are they ready now?” Abigail led condescending, causing Courtney to snap her mouth shut, face reddening slightly. “No?” Abigail pressed in the silence. “Ok then.”

Ellie shifted in her seat uncomfortably, clearly anxious at her precious president’s disquietude while simultaneously fearful of catching the seemingly never-ending wave of quiet wrath for herself. Abigail was pissed about something and everyone there knew it, although their knowledge of exactly what had birthed her annoyance clearly varied significantly, Lindsey being most in the dark. 

“Ellie,” Abigail barked, and Ellie jumped up as if burned, running to the cabinet and producing a family-sized bag of Lays that she opened and set in front of Lindsey. 

Lindsey, so tired of the constant onslaughts of sodium that she could’ve cried, grabbed a single chip and took a small, miserable bite, chewing it more thoroughly than necessary in an effort to prolong the process and reduce her intake. 

Courtney and Ellie continued to watch Abigail, clearly waiting for her verdict on some issue or another, and finally Abigail sighed, snapping Courtney's laptop shut with just a bit too much force. 

“We need to have a little talk with this year's admin council, I mean this is absolutely ridiculous,” she finally spat, heavy vitriol in her voice as if she were speaking to whatever council member had offended her instead of her own sisters. “There are rules, obviously I understand there are rules, but Phi Lambda has always received special considerations. Always. I swear to god, that bitch Megan is just trying to undermine my last year. I don't know what the hell she’s planning but…” 

A true frown crossed Abigail's face and she went silent, clearly stewing in her own thoughts. 

Lindsey ate a chip in the ensuing silence, then another, her own discomfort building. 

“What happened?” she finally asked in a voice barely above a whisper, as if it would be her volume and not her words that would irritate Abigail further.

“They won't, uh. They won’t really tell us much about the challenges this year," Courtney finally answered hesitantly after shooting a look to Ellie. “Usually there's someone in admin willing to give a lot of info, the whole schedule most of the time. But for some reason, nobody…well, nobody will talk to Abby. It makes no sense. And then Megan emailed her this morning with a reminder about rules violation, she didn't actually give us a strike, but… it's just odd. It’s -” she paused, searching for the word. “It’s very abnormal for what we’ve come to expect,” she finally finished, now looking to Abigail as if seeking approval for the statement. 

“Bullshit. It's not what we’ve come to deserve,” Abigail contradicted, pressing two hands to her temples. “It’s not what we work so fucking hard for, for this kind of disrespect.”

“But, if they aren't telling us, doesn't that mean no one else knows?” asked Lindsey.

Abigail scoffed. 

“It doesn't mean that at all. It means Megan’s been jealous of me since we rushed together freshman year and she’d been waiting for an opportunity to undermine me ever since. In fact, it probably means she is telling other people, just to try and give them a better chance over us.

Her face darkened further. 

“If that bitch actually thinks-”

“We just work harder,” Courtney interjected. “We work harder, and we prepare for more eventualities. That's all.”

She gestured for the laptop and Abigail begrudgingly slid it over, Courtney opening it and scrolling for several beats before stopping on the intended document. 

“These challenges are really similar and really cyclical,” she began, turning the laptop to face the other three girls. “I’ve logged every weekly weigh-in challenge since I pledged and talked to alumni to determine what challenges took place before I showed up, so I think we have a fairly decent chance of predicting exactly what we’ll be up against based on previous years. It just means a little more preparation. We still have the edge on the rest of these girls, Abby, we always do.”

Abigail grumbled a less than enthusiastic acknowledgment and Courtney went on, speaking to Lindsey more specifically now. 

“The first challenge is always the pizza eating contest, as you know. And the 8th challenge is always about old clothes, I know you know not to get rid of anything.”

Lindsey nodded, unconsciously eating the chips more steadily now. 

“The second contest varies, but from what I've recorded and researched, it seems to be a challenge right up your particular alley.”

Lindsey crinkled her eyebrows in confusion. 

“Capacity,” Courtney replied, answering Lindsey’s unasked question. “The second contest is usually all about capacity, it helps the people that place bets.”

“People place bets?” Lindsey asked, causing all three girls to turn to her in disbelief. 

“You didn't know people place bets?” Ellie asked, uncharacteristically speaking out of turn in her obvious shock.

“Place bets on what?” Lindsey asked incredulously, swiping chip crumbs off her lips with the back of her hand. “We always win, what's there to bet about?” 

“Jesus, I mean, everything,” Courtney breathed. “What's there not to bet on is a better question.”

“How much weight an individual contestant will gain, highest gaining guy, highest gaining girl, multi-leg parlays on whether certain constant will do things like rip their clothes in public or get a double chin, the ranking order of the rest of the contestants, they take all action,” Abagail reported with a degree of boredom. “Phi Lambda doesn't worry about that kind of thing, because we don't bet. We win.”

Courtney and Ellie nodded, Ellie more enthusiastically than Courtney, and Lindsey pressed another few chips in her mouth and nodded in tandem, the information still a surprise, but not one she could bring herself to care about enough to question further in the moment. 

“So, the second contest is designed to help people place those bets. Obviously, everyone knows Phi Lambda will be into it, we’ll try as hard as possible, but some of the other sororities sometimes struggle with getting their girls to put in the effort, and that changes year to year. When I was a sophomore there was a pig who actually lost weight, basically just refused to participate, and that performance came from a sorority that was in the top five the year before. If the whole group isn't committed like us, there's really no telling how things will turn out. Admin likes the second challenge to show off who’s in it to win it, basically.”

“It being second place,” Abigail added, as if anyone in the room assumed anything different. 

“Right,” Courtney confirmed. “Four years ago it was another eating contest, three years ago it was a public buffet type challenge, basically seeing who was too embarrassed to pig out in public off school grounds, two years ago it was another eating contest, and last year it was a swimsuit competition.”

“Swimsuit competition?” Lindsey blurted, nearly spewing crumbs in her sudden urgency for more information.

“Yea,” Courtney confirmed, almost sheepishly. “To see who’d put on the most in the first week. It actually ended up being pretty accurate betting-wise. The ranking for the second challenge ended up being almost the exact final ranking.”

“But, how is that any different than a weigh-in?” Lindsey protested, acutely aware she was arguing with the wrong people.

“It just depends,” Courtney answered. “I mean, look at you. You weighed more than we thought you did at the onset because you have a semi-decent amount of muscle, so even though your number may not jump like crazy in the first week, a contest like that will show off your declined muscle tone better than a number on a scale ever could.”

Lindsey groaned without thinking, eliciting a sharp look from Abigail that caused her to shove another handful of chips in her mouth as appeasement. 

“It probably won't be another swimsuit competition,” Courtney assured. “I mean, contest admin is historically uncreative, but they’ve never repeated the exact same challenge two years in a row.”

“Probably isn't definitely,” Abigail snarked. “And now we really don't know, do we?”

“Abby, we got this,” Courtney reassured. “We never lose. Since you took over, we’ve never even come close. You never lose. 

The obvious flattery seemed to reduce the edge, and Abigail smiled, albeit a bit tightly. 

“I just like being prepared,” she finally said, unwilling to let the matter go entirely. 

Courtney nodded. 

“Of course. And we’re still prepared. More prepared than anyone else. Remember, this year we’ve got Lindsey. She’s already doing things no pigs have done before, she’s amazing.”

Lindsey frowned, the words that were meant to be complimentary cutting through the top few layers of exposed skin like the unexpectedly sharp edge of a sheet of paper. 

“We can't rest on our laurels,” Abigail said, argumentation clearly still her goal. 

“You’re right, you're absolutely right,” Courtney agreed, and Abigail frowned, clearly wanting more to push back against. 

Ellie, who always watched Abigail's face for the quick emotional 180’s that required an immediate response, read the situation well enough to provide Abigail with the conflict she wanted, chiming in with “Abby, do you think we should talk to Megan?”

Abigail smiled, haughtily this time. 

“I’ll talk to Megan. I’ll handle her.”

“She's scared of you,” Courtney offered, widening Abigail's smile.

“Good,” said Abigail, standing. “She should be."

She turned, looking Lindsey up and down with narrowed eyes.

“Prep her for tonight and make sure she goes in full, but not stuffed. We’ll get instructions later tonight for anything we should do or bring, and I want you to call me the second you get the email Courtney, the absolute second. Now, take her to class. I have to go.”

Abigail stalked out of the room and the three girls relaxed into the reliving silence for a moment, settling back in their chairs as the tension caused by Abigail's presence dissipated. 

“Oh my god,” Courtney cried, breaking the silence. “The cupcakes.”

She jumped up, grabbing an oven mitt and removing a tray of 24 perfectly golden brown mounds of vanilla cake outfitted with pink and blue cupcake wrappers, setting them atop the oven to cool, and turning for the fridge where she produced a bowl of icing she’d clearly whipped before Lindsey had been called into the kitchen.

“Here,” said Courtney, holding up the bowl. “You wanna taste? It's just vanilla buttercream, but if you don't like it, I can add lemon.”

Before Lindsey could answer she grabbed a spoon and dunked it into the bowl, handing it to Lindsey with a generous spoonful piled high. 

Lindsey accepted the spoon without protest and gave the icing a lick, perturbed as usual to find it was delicious. She licked the spoon clean in a matter of seconds, then handed it back to Courtney with a sheepish smile, still feeling apprehensive to display her growing greed in front of girls like Ellie. 

“It's really good,” she complimented, and Courtney's face lit up as she dunked the spoon back into the icing and handed it to Lindsey once more. 

“Don't worry about double dipping,” she said, a proud grin still plastered on her face. “It's all for you.”

Lindsey sighed and it was her turn to give a tight, insincere smile, her pre-ingrained propensity for politeness forcing her to feign gratitude for the effort Courtney took to make all this eating a bit easier on her. Lindsey and Audrey had discussed past pigs at length, and Lindsey was horrified to learn that one year, the winning Phi Lambda pig had subsisted on a diet comprised of nothing but bulking protein shakes intended for bodybuilders. The knowledge had made her so glad to have delicious, Courtney-prepared fare that she almost forgot she didn't want to be doing this in the first place. 

Almost.