THE CHEERLEADER BY MATT L.
Elena Spur had just arrived home from school and casually drifted into the kitchen for a piece of fruit. Still attired in her cheerleader uniform, due to the pep rally that had transpired that afternoon, Elena’s appearance was more captivating then most of the girls on the squad. Her wavy blond hair glided over her shoulders, framing her beauteous features and her trim figure was practically flawless. All was going right for Elena. Popular and cute, she was the co-captain of the squad, her social calendar was booked solid and one of the most admired guys on campus invited her to the home coming dance.
Frozen in her spot, daydreaming while munching on a pear, Elena’s concentration was broken by her mother’s noisy intrusion. Elena eyed her mom with not quite contempt but rather unadulterated embarrassment. Home from grocery shopping, Elena’s mom juggled a few bags while clumsily hobbling to the kitchen table. Elena observed the scene in silence, not moving from her spot or volunteering her aid. Mrs. Spur was a pleasant, ample bodied woman, looking heftier than usual in a powder blue pantsuit.
Mrs. Spur adjusted the bags upon settling them on the table, “You could have given me a hand?” Elena took a modest bite out of the pear, gaping at her mom’s wardrobe and the big curlers strewn through her hair. “Something the matter?” Mrs. Spur asked.
Elena dramatically replied, “Ah yeah! How could you leave the house looking like that?”
“Looking like what, dear?” Mrs. Spur inquired in almost comical fashion.
Elena brought the pear to the waistline of her skirt, “You look absolutely dumpy in that outfit and those curlers! People will see you and it reflects on me!”
Mrs. Spur rolled her eyes and sighed, “Damn, you’re in one of your moods.”
Elena swung the pear to her lips, snaring a voracious bite, chewing as she spoke, “I have a huge reputation, I needn’t it spoiled.”
Mrs. Spur diligently went about putting away the groceries, “Now babe, I have another bomb to drop on you, since you’re already in a foul mood, what difference will it make?”
Elena folded her arms over her generously proportion breasts, “What is it?”
Mrs. Spur adamantly informed her daughter, “Your cousin Sue will be spending a few days with us, I expect you to be on your best behavior and be civil to her.”
“What the hell?” Elena cringed, “Then I’ll just stay over at Stacy’s until she’s gone.”
Mrs. Spur replied with a melodious hum, “Nope, you’re staying home and make friends with your cousin.”
The vexed vixen crowed her complaints, “But we share nothing in common, she’s a complete nerd!”
Mrs. Spur sarcastically snickered, “What? No criticism in regards to her weight?”
Elena insidiously grinned, “I was just about to bring that up.”
“Still,” Mrs. Spur happily blathered, “You used to get along so well with Sue until a few years ago, why not just try to get along for peace in the family?”
Elena brushed back a wandering strand of hair, “Ms. Jumbo thighs and I are like, two diverse species of female, it’s impossible for us to get along.”
Mrs. Spur approached her daughter, “Maybe if you weren’t so vain and snotty, you’d realize Sue is a highly admirable young lady.”
Elena smirked, “Admirable? She’s clueless in fashion, isn’t into sports and watches lame TV shows and movies. Though I assume her appetite is unsurpassed; that chick can eat her weight!”
“Hold on there!” Mrs. Spur snapped at her toffee nosed daughter. “Haven’t you noticed that the females on my side of the family are thick? Susan’s size is not so much a matter of her appetite but her genes.”
Elena’s hand slithered downward, aligning with her delicate waist, her eyes callously burning while a smug grin dashed over her attractive face. “And how do you account for me?”
Mrs. Spur boldly scrutinized Elena’s hourglass figure, she couldn’t possibly weigh more than the upper one twenties? Clearing her throat, Mrs. Spur contemplated before replying, “You shouldn’t be so narcissistic, Elena. You’re predisposed too fattening, it’s only a matter of time until you’re just as chubby as me.”
Elena’s arrogant smirk disintegrated, “Think whatever you wish, but you’re wrong.”
Mrs. Spar answered back, “Really?” You think dieting will keep you trim? All you’re doing is postponing the inevitable.”
Elena backed away from her mom, “Stop it, mom. I won’t let you upset me.” Elena could usually maintain her self-control, though under stress her appetite went up for grabs.
Mrs. Spar was aware of this fact, and acknowledged her daughter with an ingenious smirk. However, Mrs. Spar heaved a disgruntle sighed and changed streams, “Then let’s stop quarreling. I‘m only asking you to be nice to your cousin.”
Elena gestured with an adequate expression, then announced, “I’m going to take a shower.” In the bathroom, Elena leisurely removed her cheerleader outfit and then her undergarments. Her spectacular 36-C’s nimbly bobbling while released from the confines of the bra, subsequently dropping the hip hugging panties to the floor. She posed at her reflection like a world class model, admiring her cute face and stunning cleavage. Elena’s high cheekbones and narrow nose bestowed the aspect of elegance too her facial appearance and her skin remained flawless due too a defined amount of posh facial cream.
The firm tissue of her breasts kept the wilting to a minimum, though it was the tummy control panties that smoothed out her stomach. Elena’s tummy was of a puffy consistency, soft and redundantly squishy, especially the small pouch below the navel region. The minor bulge was scarcely noticeable but made her feel thoroughly self-conscious. She placed her hands over her hips, the child baring variety that endowed her hourglass shape, and gazed over her reflection. Elena’s waist was authentically trim and her marginally thick thighs were athletic in appearance.
Swerving to capture a side view glance of her figure, she contently smiled at the roundness of her adequately proportioned derriere. Elena straightened her posture, and yet her tummy still managed to jut outward. Not quite an official potbelly, but there was a trivial bulge that impaired her figure. Elena’s hand slithered over the rubbery bulbous patch, her fingertips inspecting the mushy tissue.
Elena cupped the lower portion of her tummy, her sour expression revved up a notch, “I can’t be getting heavier?” Elena motioned toward the shower but paused in deliberation. Biting her lip, she urgently boarded the scale, her posture deflating as she read the number aloud, “129-pounds.”
Elena crinkled her nose; somehow in the course of a couple of days she had put on four pounds. Elena puffed up her cheeks and released a disenchanted sigh. Elena veered her vision toward the discarded cheerleader uniform. All too obvious to the superficial beauty; if she couldn’t maintain her weight, if she continued to fatten, she’d be off the squad and her popularity would likewise falter.
Elena took an unusually long shower that afternoon to calm her nerves, then afterward looked through her family album for motivation in handling her weight.