High School WG Chronicles: The Cheer Coach Part 2

On Monday morning, Koleen ignored her alarm clock once, hitting the previously unused snooze button and remaining in bed for ten minutes longer, finally rising from rest at five ten. Typically, on every school day besides Friday, but today, staring at the nicer clothes in her closet, she felt as though she couldn’t be bothered to go through the effort to assemble that proper of an outfit. It was a monday after all.

She took out a pair of dark blue jeans and tugged them up her thicker legs, then to her wider waist. She managed to button them, neglecting the struggle completely. Following that, the heavier coach wrapped a woven brown belt around her waist to fasten herself in, creating about an inch of muffin top around the lips of her struggling jeans. Next, she pulled on a red t-shirt bearing the school logo of a Native American with a fully drawn bow, giving the students and staff the moniker “Archers”. Said logo was distorted slightly by the increased size of her bosom, and the hem barely covered the bottom of her new gut.

She examined herself in the mirror and was slightly disappointed by the image that stared back at her.

“Hmm.. Something’s off… Ah!”

She reached in the closet and retrieved an olive green jacket, and pulled it over her plumper arms.

“There! Perfect!” She smiled and walked out to her kitchen.

She examined her cabinet full of cereal boxes and read every label before shutting it and moving over to the one adjacent, still packed with granola bars. She smiled and took out ten, unwrapped them all, ground them up, put them in a bowl, added low fat milk, and went to town on her breakfast creation.

Eating took slightly longer than usual, plus she forgoed putting the finished tests in her backpack in favor of stuffing in as many delicious bars as would fit in the bag. All of this amounted to her making it to school at seven eleven, six minutes past her usual arrival time. This bothered her, but not as much as it did the last time she was behind schedule: three years prior.

She walked through the school to her classroom, getting second looks from both students and staff. Of course, she failed to notice any of it and went straight into her room, then ate two bars quickly, feeling drained from the walk.

After replenishing her energy, she noticed a stack of four boxes against the wall, all the same size and shape as the ones delivered to her door. She wheeled her chair over excitedly and cut the tape on the first box with a pair of scissors, then pulled the top open. Inside were t-shirts, and a lot of them, all the same crimson red.

She pulled the top one out and held it up, the front reading “Archers Cheer” in sparkly silver varsity font. She turned it around to the other side and saw the word coach at the top of the back with the logos of their two sponsors below it.

She set her shirt aside and packed up the rest to be handed out at today’s practice. The other two boxes contained fresh supplies of granola bars, which she tucked away to keep at school so she wouldn’t have to pull from her supply at home.

Throughout the day, as she continued her eight year long tradition of barely teaching, her students silently giggled and joked about her noticeable plumpness. Continuing with the tradition of the day, she neglected to notice the disrespect, her attention focused on the tasty bars for most of the day.

By the time the dismissal bell rang, thirty bars plus her lunch (purchased from the school cafeteria) had been delivered to her growing midsection. On the walk to the gymnasium, the bottom half of her belly button was exposed, but she attributed it to her shirt having shrunk in the wash. She hauled the boxes inside as her girls filed in like Roman legionnaires ever careful to be perfect for their coach.

Once all the rows were in place, with Captain Sarah up front, Coach Madison began to speak to them with a half-eaten bar in her hand.

“Alright, girls, welcome back. First of all, our wonderful new sponsors at Soul Food, a new supermarket in town, have been gracious enough to donate t-shirts for everyone. So, as I call your name, come up to get yours.” She opened up a box and started pulling out shirts. “Simms, Annis, Atherton, Hastings, Perez, Rocha, Grant, Martinez……”

Every girl on the roster received a shirt, which they promptly went to the locker room to change into. The garments fit every girl’s figure perfectly, being flattering while still appropriate for school.

The week progressed on, with Koleen’s binges on granola bars getting increasingly higher in quantity consumed, reaching up to fifty bars per day by Thursday.

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That same Thursday, Captain Sarah Simms got home to her home in a fairly higher middle class neighborhood, finding a box on the stoop addressed to her. She hefted it up and into the house, dumped her light backpack (she had virtually no real classes due to her prodigious position), then opened it up with her sharp index fingernail, revealing what must have been hundreds of granola bars, the same ones her recently chubby coach had been eating at practices.

“Huh. One can’t hurt, I guess.” She brushed her completely straight black hair behind her shoulders before tearing open a package and sticking it in her mouth.

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Koleen’s alarm clock went off at five AM on Friday morning, as it usually did. She lifted her arm up and slapped her arm on the snooze button, promptly returning to her slumber as soon as the sound ceased.

Ten minutes later, the alarm resumed its tone and was met with the same fate it received the last time it dared wake her. This was repeated twice more before she finally began to heave herself out of bed.

Her feet landed on the hard wood of her floors and her hands pushed her up from her bed, her twin pale rolls of belly fat laid against each other and weighing her down like sand bags. She had gained over seventy pounds in only a week, and she had barely noticed the fact that her jeans had ceased to fit. Once on her feet, she walked her body over to her closet on cellulite-ridden thighs that rubbed together with each step.

She pulled her brand new cheer t-shirt out and pulled it over her plump breasts and thick belly, the deceptively stretchy fabric changing its form to fit perfectly. To cover up her flabby legs, she donned a pair of grey sweatpants with the Victoria’s Secret Pink logo on the behind, stretched out by her wide posterior. She slipped her feet into a pair of white converse sneakers and slowly walked to her kitchen, not even having the capacity to put her bars into a bowl, instead eating them three at once.

She and her apartment began to have more in common with each other. The kitchen was packed with granola bars; each one of her cabinets emptied to allow for more storage of the delicious food. Her den was home to countless crumbs and discarded wrappers, while her bedroom was littered with the same as well as the week’s clothing.

As soon as she had consumed enough bars to sate her belly’s demands, she heaved herself out of her chair and grabbed her backpack, which was completely devoid of any papers or anything to do with school.

She approached the door to leave, her pace slow and heavy due to the fruits of her binging. With her hair messy and her face spotted with a couple of pimples, Coach Madison set out for another day of teaching.