Bellified
By Czolgolz
For Phantom Rochelle
I have never, in all my seventeen years, hated another human being as much as I hate Rochelle Snow right now.
Just the sight of her walking down the hall of my high school fills me with rage. The way she twitches her hips. That coquettish smile. The way all…and I mean ALL…the boys in school simp after her.
But the worst part is…how undeniably beautiful she is. The long, auburn hair. The huge boobs. The cute little freckled face. Top all that off with an English accent, and it’s no wonder she was voted most popular this year.
That should have been me. That WAS me, before this English rose moved here and dethroned me. How I’d like to snip her buds…
“Tuck that lip in before you trip over it, Sarah,” says a voice at my elbow.
With great effort, I try to remove the rage from my face. And it’s not easy, with Rochelle running her hand over Steve Jacob’s shoulder. Steve, who was just about to invite me to junior prom, before you know who showed up and he lost interest.
Not that I would have gone with him, but it would have been nice to be asked.
“C’mon, I think steam’s starting to shoot out of your ears.”
I force myself to turn away. Alyx Smyth smirks at my elbow. At 4’11”, she’s still one of the most intimidating presences at school. Maybe it’s the shaved head, the pentagram neck tattoo, or her Goth princess wardrobe.
I pretend I wasn’t spying on Rochelle. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Alyx snorts. “Please. Rochelle took over as queen bee last year and it’s killing you.”
I can’t deny it. “What does she have?” I ask, maybe a little too loudly. “Seriously?”
Alyx begins ticking points off on her black nailed fingers. “Tits the size of cantaloupes? Six foot long legs? A face like…whoa, is it hot in here? Damn, I wish that girl wouldn’t waste her time with the boys.”
Sarah’s not being silly. I think she was already wearing ‘I kissed a girl’ shirts in fifth grade. She regards men as aberrations of evolution.
“C’mon, Alyx, Rochelle is kind of pretty but…”
And then Rochelle looks in my direction. She couldn’t possibly have heard me from down the hall, but she still spears me with those green eyes. And I freeze.
And just for a moment, I want o grab her. Hold her. Beg her to pay attention to me. To tell her I’d do anything for her approval. For her…love.
The warning bell rings and the moment passes. Rochelle, her arms linked with Steve on one side and Darius Johnson on the other, traipses off down the hall.
Alyx punches me on the arm. “Cheer up, Sarah. Actually…” she seems to mentally debate something. “Come by my house after school tomorrow. I want to show you something.”
I consider ignoring Alyx’s invitation. A few months ago, I would have. It wouldn’t have done my reputation good, hanging out with this weird, bald, lesbo girl. But with Rochelle supplanting me, I don’t have much else to do.
Alyx’s bedroom is in her basement. About what you’d expect. Dank, dark, with all kinds of cheesecake posters of bikini girls on the walls. I don’t think they’re there for her pleasure. Probably to remind her parents that they’ll never have grandkids.
She’s flossing her teeth as I walk in. I almost leave. The girl is so gross. And yet, before Rochelle showed up, she wasn’t that far behind me in terms of being a sexual fantasy to most of the boys at school.
“Ah, Sarah, you came,” she says, dropping her floss near the trashcan. “I need to show you something.” She brings up a photo on her laptop.
It’s a girl, a teenager. Reddish hair, freckles, gangly and awkward. Nose too big, ears too big, not much of a chin. Cute, but not beautiful. Seven, seven and a half on a good day.
“Well?” asks Alyx.
“Well what?”
She snorts. “Don’t you recognize her?”
I shake my head and she laughs again.
“That’s Rochelle.”
I do a double take. Is it? There are similarities. I’d believe this was Rochelle’s cousin, maybe even a sister, but not the girl that caused three basketball players to get suspended last week when they had a brawl over who’d get to drive her home after school.
“Is that really her? What, was this back in England? Did she have some work done?”
“Sarah, this was from our school’s security camera. It was taken two days ago.”
I look at the background behind her. That’s definitely the science hall. But that can’t be…I mean, there are hundreds of girls in our school, but…my God, it is her.
“I guess it’s a bad photograph,” I say, knowing that’s not the reason.
Alyx pulls up a series of other pictures. It’s Rochelle, all right. I remember some of her outfits. But…she’s just a regular girl in these pictures. Guys might notice her, sure, but not go crazy over her. Not like they used to do around me.
“What’s going on, Alyx?”
She snorts. “Ever notice that Rochelle has no social media presence? That she never lets anyone take her picture? This is how she really looks.”
“It is not!” I argue. Rochelle turns heads…boys’ heads, girls’ heads, even teachers’ heads…even I notice her.
“It took me a while to figure it out, but I think I know what’s going on.” Alyx opens a cabinet built into the wall. I’m assaulted by the odor of herbs and plants. The interior of the door is carved with arcane symbols and the shelves are filled with bottles and tubes. Alyx selects one and uncaps it.
“Take a gentle whiff.”
Annoyed, I take a snort. Suddenly, my knees buckle. I’m overcome with an intense feeling of longing, of desire, of lust. I’m sweating. I’m breathing heavily. I’m getting wet. I turn to Alyx. I swear, I almost jump her right there.
Alyx looks a little panicked. She corks the bottle, then grabs a pinch of something and throws it in the air. Pepper. I sneeze for about a minute, and when my head clears, the bizarre feeling is gone.
“What…what was that?”
She snorts. “They always laughed at witches. But you’re not laughing now, are you?” She fingers the bottle. “I won’t bore you with the details. I guess you’d call it a love potion. A little dab behind your ears and even an ugly girl would have the guys eating out of her hands. Rochelle must be marinating herself in this shit.”
“Where…where did she get it?”
Alyx shrugs. “It’s available, if you have the money. Dangerous as hell, she’s going to end up getting someone killed the way she’s overusing it. But now, everyone who’s breathed her air considers her to be the epitome of female—no, of human beauty. That’s why she won’t let her picture be taken. They show her true form.”
I can feel my fists clenching. For half a year, I’ve been competing with that English bitch, and she’s using some chemical? Some potion? Oh, hell no.
“Sell me that,” I command Alyx, pointing to the vial.
“No.”
I swipe at the bottle, but she easily dodges. Then she makes a big show of laying her hand on a heavy, iron paperweight.
“Be reasonable, Alyx. I’ll give you fifty bucks.”
She shake her head.
“A hundred. Two hundred.”
“It’s not for sale.”
“A thousand!”
Alyx prods me away. “Calm down, Sarah. That’s not the answer to your problem.”
“The hell it isn’t!”
I die a little as she places the bottle back in the cabinet and relocks it. “Rochelle has those guys so high, it’d take you months to get them out of that fog. And then with two girls using this garbage? No thanks. Someone really would get stabbed. Boys are such stupid apes, but I’m not unleashing this.”
I really, truly, am about to cry. “Then why tell me all this? Just to taunt me?”
Alyx smiles, and I get a real glimpse of what the witches they didn’t hang at Salem must have looked like. “There are other ways. I can’t make you more beautiful…” she leaves that hanging, and I get the feeling she’s undressing me with her eyes. “But maybe we can make Rochelle a little…or a LOT less beautiful. Two hundred dollars. I’ll talk to you in a week.”
“But…”
“Next week, Sarah.”
As I leave her house, I feel hopeful for the first time in months.
Six days later, Alyx confronts me at lunch. Last year I would have been surrounded by boys, friends, and hangers on. Now, I eat alone. Across the crowded lunch room, I can see the crowd congregated around Rochelle’s table. God, it makes me want to barf.
Alyx slides in next to me. “You feeling okay, Sarah? You’re looking a little ‘green’ around the gills.”
I ignore the reference to my obvious jealousy. When she realizes I’m not going to take the bait, Alyx pulls something out of her bag. It’s a perfume atomizer, filled with a liquid whose color I cannot describe.
“What…what is it?” I barely whisper.
Alyx smiles, and again, I remember that I’m talking to an actual witch. “Let’s just say that we can alter Rochelle’s appearance enough that no amount of love potion will affect the monkeys around here.”
“This will make her ugly?” Just in time, I remember to keep my voice down. I imagine Rochelle breaking out in warts, growing body hair, her nose spreading, her complexion going rotten…
Alyx chuckles. “What do you think, she’s about 15, 20% body fat? Well, you give her a couple of spritzes of this and it’ll be more like 50 or 60. The morons around here won’t exactly be going for a 400 pound girl, now will they?”
I could kiss Alyx. I almost do, but stop myself, remembering that she’d like that. I reach for the bottle, but she yanks it away.
Oh, right. I pull two hundred dollar bills out of my purse and slide them over. Alyx passes me the bottle, but doesn’t let go at first.
“I’m not doing this because I’m jealous of Rochelle or because I want to make you happy. Rochelle has been playing a dangerous game. Boys aren’t very smart to begin with, and she’s messing with their brain chemistry. Unless we stop her, every boy in this school is going to want her for the rest of their lives. They’ll try to turn every unfortunate girl they date into Rochelle, and still never be satisfied. It’s time we stop this.” She lets go.
The bottle is heavy, and slightly warm to the touch. “So what do I do?”
“Just spray her with it. And only once! The results should be more or less immediate.”
I manage to catch Rochelle alone in the art hall, where her locker is. Lurking in a doorway, I see her glance around the seemingly empty hall, then remove a bottle from her locker and dab something on her neck. Of course. That potion Alyx mentioned. I half want to just bop her on the head and take it, but I decide to be subtle. I’m not sure if I buy Alyx’s explanation of why I can’t use it myself. Maybe once Rochelle realizes that I know her secret, she’d be willing to share.
I clear my throat. Rochelle jumps, startled, then turns toward me.
“Hello, Sarah.”
I had no idea that she knew my name. I want to smile, to giggle, to compliment her on her clothes. Then I remember I’m merely breathing in that shit she spread on herself and I shake my head to clear it.
“Um, hi Rochelle. Listen…”
“Sarah, that is such and…interesting outfit you’re wearing.”
It cost me two weeks allowance. “Thanks, I…”
“And those boots? Did you get them at Goodwill?”
I can feel the bile rising. I finger the perfume bottle in my pocket. “We need to talk.”
“And your hair! If you like, I can give you the number of my salon. Oh, wait, I don’t think you could afford that.” Her simpering English accent claws at my ears.
“And your figure…it’s so nice that people have stopped body shaming, don’t you think? You have just as much right to try to look pretty as anyone else.”
It’s the fat crack that does it to me. My childhood…all those taunts about fat Sarah, wide load Sarah…the miserable three years of dieting and exercising and denying myself to keep the weight off. It all comes back. I pull out the perfume bottle.
‘Remember, Sarah, spray her just once.’
I spray her once. And again. And again.
“What the hell are you doing you psycho…”
For a moment, I think Alyx sold me a vial of colored water and Rochelle is going to tell everyone that I’m crazy. But then she stops talking. Sways. Staggers.
And begins to grow.
She rubs her belly. Tries to pull her top down a little, but it won’t seem to cover her stomach. And her stomach grows bigger. And bigger. In ten seconds it goes from perfectly flat teen to middle aged beer gut. Rochelle opens her mouth but I think she’s too stunned to even scream.
“Sarah…what did you do?”
Her arms are expanding against her sleeves. Her thighs press against her skirt. Her narrow face takes on a round look and she grows a double chin. I can hear fabric ripping.
I grab Rochelle by the arm, pleased at how fat it feels. “I know all about your little love potion. But we’ll see if the guys notice you now, lard ass. Who’s fat now, Rochelle?”
Only…she doesn’t stop growing. The zipper on her skirt snaps, falling to the floor. Her top splits along the front. Rochelle stands there in her straining underwear, rolls and rolls of fat replacing her once svelte body.
“Sarah…help…”
Alyx was right. One squirt would have been enough. And still Rochelle gets fatter. But also, somehow, she’s shrinking. Her arms and legs seems to have contracted into her body (or the fat just enveloped them), leaving her chubby hands and feet emerging from the rolls. She doesn’t appear to have a neck anymore. Her face just seems to sit upon her shoulders.
“Rochelle?” I don’t know whether to run for help or stand here and laugh.
Rochelle’s chest, which logically should be huge by now, seems to have vanished. Her bra slips off, but there are no nipples behind it. Stubs of fingers poke from her side and I can’t see her feet anymore. Her hair and ears are no longer visible.
Before this started, Rochelle was over five feet tall. Now she’s more like three feet…tall? Across? She’s pretty much a sphere now. She has almost no features left except for her face. Well, there goes her nose. Her mouth. All that’s left is her pleading, terrified eyes, which are gone in a blink.
The whole process took less than a minute. I stand there, stunned, trying to process what I’m seeing.
“Hey, Sarah, I’m glad I found you, I…WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?”
Alyx has appeared out of nowhere and we both stare, shocked, at the thing at our feet. A large, featureless, skin colored ball, sitting on the floor on a pile of Rochelle’s ruined clothes.
Not totally featureless. There’s a spray of freckles on the top. And in front…that cute little belly button Rochelle would show off when she wore crop tops.
“How much of that did you use?” barks Alyx. “I said one spray!”
“I…might have gone overboard.” I wish I could say I sounded regretful.
“You think? Sarah, this was supposed to increase her body fat. You’ve…turned her 100% body fat! She’s nothing but a human belly!”
Gently, I reach out and touch the Rochelle belly. The skin is soft. Smooth. Yielding. I pinch it. Knead it. So warm. But I feel no bone, no muscle, nothing but pure belly fat. My hand snatches away when I feel just a slight tremor from the belly.
Alyx bends down near what’s left of Rochelle. “Rochelle? Is that you?’
A pause. Then just a slight jiggle.
“Sarah, you moron! Look what you’ve done!”
I’m trying desperately not to laugh. Not so much the queen bee now, eh, Rochelle?
Alyx grabs me by the shoulder. “We are in so much trouble! When they find out what we did, we could be arrested!”
This brings me back to earth. “Right. Help me cram her into that locker. Or maybe one of the cabinets in that art room.”
Alyx looks horrified. “We can’t just hide her and forget about her!”
Tempting. “I just meant until you can whip up an antidote.”
“Sarah, I’ve never heard of anything like this. It could take me months to figure out how to restore her…if I even can.”
Alyx doesn’t notice, but Rochelle jiggles despondently at that comment.
“Look, Alyx, you’re in as much trouble as I am, so you need to—”
At that moment, a group of about five kids comes loudly barreling down the hall, laughing and talking. We don’t have time to hide Rochelle. When they realize what they’re looking at, they freeze.
“Is that…Rochelle?” one of them asks. I have no idea how she recognized her. Alyx and I don’t say a thing.
The kids stare at her for a moment. I try to slink away.
“Rochelle…you’re gorgeous! I don’t know what you did, but it works girl!”
“I love the new look!”
“Damn, Rochelle, you’re looking hot!”
I think both Alyx and my jaws hit the floor at the same time.
“Rochelle, can I walk you to class?”
“No, let me!”
“Rochelle, can you give me your beauty tips?”
Alyx and I stand there, stunned, as two boys eventually load her onto a rolling cart and wheel her off to class, leaving behind a pile of Rochelle’s discarded clothes and jewelry. I turn to Alyx who shakes her head and walks off, stunned. Alone in the hall, I look around for Rochelle’s bottle of love potion, but all I can find is the shattered bottle. She must have landed on it when she had her, um, accident.
I spend all afternoon waiting to be called to the office, to answer for what I did to Rochelle. But as the hours tick by, I suddenly become aware that nothing is going to happen to me. At least not today.
I hear rumors about Rochelle.
“Did you see Rochelle Snow?”
“God, didn’t thinks she could get any sexier, but that new look?”
“I wish I had a belly like hers. Hey, hand me that Twinkie.”
The next day I almost don’t go to school. I mean, maybe the kids here are dumb enough to accept what happened to Rochelle, but her parents certainly won’t be. In the end, I hang around the front of the school, until I see Rochelle’s mother’s car pull up. Who knows, maybe Rochelle reverted back to her normal bitch form overnight.
Rochelle’s mother, who looks like a hot, older version of her daughter, pulls up to the curb. She opens the back door, and unloads a wheelchair. Then, to my utter shock, she unloads Rochelle.
Still just a belly. Shocked, I step forward. Yep, utterly featureless, except for her navel. Only, now her mother has wrapped a green scarf around her lower part and placed a little hat rakishly on top of the belly. And, if I’m not mistaken, spread a little rouge on her stomach.
I know better than to say anything, but I can’t help myself. “Um, Mrs. Snow? Is Rochelle doing okay?”
Her mother just laughs. “I think Rochelle is doing wonderfully. I never would have thought to try a look like this, but I think you have to admit, it works!”
I stare at the lump that used to be her daughter. “And you don’t find this…odd?”
She tosses her head with a chuckle. “All I can think of is how much money we’ll save on clothes.” She leans over and plants a kiss on the belly. “Have a good day, Rochelle.”
I hear a hubbub behind us.
“Hey, it’s Rochelle!”
“Rochelle, you look great!”
“Let me give you a push.”
“No, let me!”
“I was first.”
I stare after Rochelle’s receding ball-like form with wonder.
Alyx joins me at lunch. We stare, not eating, at Rochelle, who someone has set in the middle of a large, round cafeteria table. At least a dozen kids surround her, all trying to get the attention of a girl who no longer has a head. No one, not even the teachers, seems to find this strange.
“Alyx, what the hell is going on?”
She laughs. “When Rochelle transformed, she fell on that bottle of love potion. Absorbed it all. Everyone is in love with her. And if Rochelle is a belly, then a belly woman is the standard of beauty for anyone around her. I thought making her fat would turn people off, but that potion is powerful stuff. Being a belly is now where it’s at.”
I glance around. At least half the girls in the lunchroom have their shirt tied up to expose their stomachs. I see several other girls cramming down junk food in an effort to get as fat as Rochelle.
“Well, what do we do now? I’m in the same situation I was before!” My voice, I admit, sounds whiney.
Alyx shrugs. “There’s not much to do. Chalk it up to a learning experience, Sarah. Rochelle won. You’ll never be as popular as she is.”
I’m trembling. “Listen. Rochelle and I are both juniors, and if you think I’m going to spend another year living in her fat shadow…”
“Hey, you were the one who used too much spray on her. You were the one who transformed her into that belly. She looks like that because of you.”
“YOU DID THIS!” comes a shrieking voice behind us.
I turn to see three girls. Freshmen. Jeanette O’Leary, Lanetra Jackson, and Mackenzie Leonard. Fashionistas. Future homecoming royalty. The up and coming popular girls.
“You did this!” repeats Jeanette. “What were you thinking, making Rochelle even sexier? Like we don’t have enough trouble competing with her!”
“How are we supposed to look like that?” snaps Lanetra. “For months, my boyfriend has been asking me to lose weight. Now he wants me to be rounder! We didn’t need this!”
Mackenzie stares daggers at us. “Even after Rochelle graduates, we’re going to have to put up with her memory. Thanks for nothing!”
I sigh. “This is a private conversation. Go away.”
“We will not go away!” snips Jeanette. “You ruined our lives! We’re never going to be able to look like that! You have to do something!”
“Buzz off!”
“Not until you show me what you did to Rochelle!”
“Sarah…” warns Alyx.
I pull out the perfume spritzer. “You really want to know?”
“Yes…”
I give her a full blast in the face. We stare, amazed, as she expands and then shrinks into pink ball of flesh, similar to Rochelle. Her two friends gape.
“Well?” Lanetra breaks the silence.
“Well what?”
“Um, it’s my turn.”
Ask and ye shall receive. Shortly there’s a brown sphere on the floor, next to Jeanette. I turn to Mackenzie.
“Wait! I don’t want to—“
Too late, A third, very pale belly lands next to Lanetra.
Pink, brown, and white. Three scoops of Neapolitan.
Within half a minute, we’re surrounded.
“Jeanette? Is that you?”
“Lanetra? You’re looking great, girl.”
“Mackenzie? Can I roll you to class?”
Soon, the trio vanishes in a cloud of admirers.
Alyx and I meet in the school library after school. We sit on bean bag chairs in the periodical section.
“So…now that Rochelle is the standard of beauty, everyone wants to be Rochelle. Even if it means giving up their arms and legs and head and most of their torso?”
Alyx nods. “That about sums it up. Girls keep badgering me to transform them. Guys keep asking me to transform their girlfriends. You really messed up everyone’s minds here, Sarah.
Who cares. I’m not about to become a belly, and until we can straighten this out, I’m never going to have a date.
“Can’t you—”
“You have to help me!” Tina Santos appears out of nowhere. Like me, she used to be one of the most popular girls in school. That is, of course, until Rochelle showed up.
“You guys turned Rochelle Snow into that sexy belly, right? Can you do it for me?”
“Go away.”
“Please! You have to! I can’t live with everyone ignoring me! I can’t make myself that fat! You have to help me.”
“Girl, this is a library, keep your voice down.”
“I’ll give you money! Fifty dollars! A hundred!”
“Pipe down!”
Tears stream down her face. “I’ll sell my car! I can give you thousands! You have to help me!”
I’m so over her. Barely looking in her direction, I take out the perfume bottle and spritz her, not even glancing over as I hear the familiar sound of a belly hitting the floor.
Alyx seems amused. She rolls Tina’s brown form over toward her and sits on her, spreading her legs around Tina’s soft bulk. Alyx’s skirt rides up.
Something occurs to me. “Alyx, can you brew up more of that bellification potion?”
Alyx is tickling Tina, who begins to vibrate. “Sure,” she answers distractedly. “But why?”
“If I can’t be popular again, at least I can make some money off of this.”
Tina is really vibrating between Alyx’s legs. “Uh huh.”
“I’m serious, Alyx. Brew up a gallon of that stuff. I bet we could sell it for $200 a pop! Fifty fifty. What do you say?”
Alyx leans back, her eyes closed. “Sure.”
“When do you think you could have it ready?”
“Maybe tomorroooo….Sarah, could you leave me alone for now…oh, god.”
Next Monday, Alyx and I sit in the cafeteria counting the day’s earnings. It’s nearly a thousand dollars for each of us (Cash only. Despite no authority figures giving us problems, I still don’t want to leave any sort of electronic trail).
Alyx shakes her head as she looks around us. At nearly every table, there’s at least one human belly, strapped into a chair, crammed onto a bench, or balanced on a cart. Each one has a boy jealously guarding her, taking care of her every need.
“Is that Rebecca Reyes over there?” asks Alyx.
“I think so. I converted her yesterday.” Actually, it was getting harder and harder to tell the belly girls apart. Aside from skin tones and the occasional birthmark or tattoo, they all are pretty identical. Some parents had taken to taping their daughter’s student ID to their skin, or simply writing their name on them with permanent marker.
Alyx cranes her neck. “There must be twenty belly girls in here.”
“Twenty-one,” I answer, recounting my cash. “I think that’s Angie Miller stuffed in the lost and found.”
Alyx leans into me. “Don’t you think this is gone on far enough? I mean, what’s going to happen to these girls after high school?”
I shrug. “The way the boys are drooling over them, they shouldn’t have any trouble finding a husband.”
“I dunno, Sarah. It seems cruel. They can’t really be happier like this.”
“Who says they’re not? Patty Jacobs doesn’t need those leg braces anymore. And look over at Jasmine Clark.” Jasmine is easy to pick out, with the countless self-harm scars running across her skin. “She can’t cut herself anymore. And it looks like Dylan Sambark is going to take care of her.”
Alyx is not convinced. “We’ve made some money, and you got revenge on Rochelle. Can we call it quits?”
I almost agree. But then I see her. Rochelle. The theater kids have made her a fancy platform—one might even call it a throne—and half the football players surround her, rolling her flabby belly down the hall. And even though she no longer has a face, I can just picture her smirking at me. Even though I’ve taken everything from her, she’s still on top.
“One more week. After the homecoming game, we quit.”
“You promise?”
I’m about to answer, when Chyanne Bertrand shyly approaches our table and hands a stack of twenties to Alyx. She sighs and pulls out the perfume bottle.
It’s a drizzly cold day for the homecoming game, but the bleachers are packed. The crowd is less raucous than last year, what with the visitors already leading 21 – 0 at the half. That, and a good third of the female spectators are now voiceless bellies.
I sit at the back of the stands, watching the audience. Dozens and dozens of boys snuggle with their circular dates, wrapping coats around them, whispering in their…whatevers, pinching their love handles when no one is looking. It’s quite the sight.
I look over at Jamie Henderson, who has his arm wrapped around a goose bump covered stomach. Last week, she was a regular teen girl, with limbs and organs and everything. Now, she’s a shapeless blob. And Jamie can’t get enough of her. Every few seconds he pauses to plant his lips on her bare flesh.
“Hey, Jamie, having a good time?” I ask.
He looks up, embarrassed. I spot a hickey or two on his date’s skin. “Oh, great time.”
“How about your friend?”
He leans into her. “You doing okay, sweetie? Want me to find you a blanket?”
Predictably, she doesn’t answer.
“Who is that, anyway?”
Jamie shrugs. “Um, either Stacy O’Hara or Stephanie Plumb.”
Jamie wasn’t the only one who lost track of who he was with. There were at least a dozen bellies floating around that no one could identify. Not that it really mattered to their boyfriends. Or anyone, I suppose. Even the school administration hadn’t reacted to this odd turn of events. They even loosened the dress code for the newly spherical students (who were, technically, coming to school naked) and arranged for alternative seating. The poor girls would just ooze out of traditional desks and onto the floor.
Alyx joins me. Quite frankly, I’m surprised she hasn’t selected a belly girl for herself. Heck, she could have her pick.
“Sarah, we need to talk.”
“Shh.”
It’s time for the cheerleaders’ routine. It’s a more subdued affair than usual, as the entire squad opted to be bellified. All ten of them lay inert on the Astroturf, as male cheerleaders roll them around, stack them, and basically use them as props in time to the music. The audience laughs as our mascot pretends to eat one of them.
“C’mon, Sarah, listen to me.”
“One second.”
The highlight of the act is the pyramid. The guys stack four bellies in a square, then balance one final stomach on top. And I’d know that navel anywhere. Rochelle. I’ve taken everything from her. Even her head. And yet, as she sits there, a wobbly pile of fat, the class STILL cheers and hollers. She’s still the head cheerleader. Still the most popular girl in school. It kills me.
“Sarah!”
“What?”
“Here’s your final share of the money.”
“Thanks. Hey, what do you mean, final?” I’m half distracted, watching the guys load the cheerleaders into a large cart that is normally used to transport sports equipment.
“I mean, this is it. We’ve turned almost half the girls in this school into blobs. I guess I got a little greedy, but we have to stop.”
“Stop? Alyx, the dance is next week. I have ten appointments tomorrow alone. I’m not going to quit.”
Alyx looks at me angrily. “I thought it was funny at first. But we’re condemning these girls to a life as their future husbands’ footrests. And I mean that literally. I shouldn’t have let you do this. No more.”
I face my partner. “If you want out, fine. But this is too profitable, and too much fun to stop.”
Alyx doesn’t look away. “If you won’t stop, then I’ll stop you. I’ll alert the press. The police. Someone is eventually going to realize this isn’t normal. Besides, you’re out of the potion. You’ve had your fun. You’ve gotten your revenge, now…Sarah, what are you doing?”
Sarah thought I’d run out of the bellification liquid. But I’d snatched a vial when she wasn’t looking.
“Sarah?”
Five minutes later, I’m done rifling through her purse, reclaiming her share of the money. There’s also another vial of the liquid, and a strange notebook which I hope might have the ingredients for the potion. I glance back at Alyx. She’s much more well rounded now, but I still recognize her tattoos. As I walk away, it begins to rain harder.
After the game, Kate Hemshaw walks along the bleachers alone. She had hoped someone would offer to let her sit with them, but none of the girls talked to her, and most of the guys were busy with their exciting new, round dates. Once again, Kate ended up alone.
At 6’2” she always felt gangly and unattractive. She never knew what to wear, never knew how to talk to people. Twice last week she’d thought about approaching Sarah to buy her beautification procedure, but she’d balked in the end. Not that she would have minded becoming a human belly; that would be a small price to pay for popularity. But she knew if she underwent the treatment, some guy would claim her. And, as she’d finally admitted to herself last year, she didn’t want to end up with a guy. She’d rather be with a…
Kate gasps when she realizes she’d not alone on the bleachers. A single belly slumps on a seat, wet and cold and forgotten.
My God, it’s Alyx smith. The girl with the amazing tattoos and shaved head and who’d turn Kate’s knees to jelly every time she was in the same room.
“Oh, hi, Alyx,” says Kate, uncharacteristically chatty. “I didn’t see you…oh, you poor thing, you’re so cold and wet! Who left you here?”
Alyx doesn’t object as Kate wraps her sweater awkwardly around her fat. “Is that better? Oh, sweetie, you’re chilled. Um, can I give you a ride home?”
Kate is thrilled when Alyx doesn’t say no. Loading her onto an abandoned beverage cart, Kate wheels the belly down the ramp.
“Um, Alyx, I know this is forward, but the dance is next week, and if you’re not going with anyone…”
The homecoming dance should have been the best night of my life. It wasn’t.
Here I am, with the perfect dress, the perfect hair, the perfect makeup…and no date.
I glance around the crowded country club. All the guys, looking so cute and awkward in their tuxes and suits…and not one of them asked me. Instead, each of them is accompanied by a stylish round belly.
I feel sorry for the local salons and clothing stores. Some of the girls are wearing wraps and scarves. Others opted for nothing but belly button rings. The local medical supply company must have sold out of wheelchairs, though others are rolled around on the dance floor in decorated chairs, carts, or other devices. Some of the larger guys simply hold their dates in their arms, snuggling them close.
It’s not hard to imagine what’s going to happen to most of these bellies tonight, in the back seats of cars, in someone’s lake cabin, or in hotel rooms.
I sigh. No one even asks me to dance out of pity. Last year I was the most popular girl in school, and now, no one even looks at me.
And I’m the only girl left who has legs and a mouth. Seriously. Over four hundred girls at this school, and I’ve transformed every one.
Well, not every one. Kate Hemshaw never asked. I can see her in the back of the room, slow dancing with the belly that used to be Alyx, her head leaning onto the flesh, a dreamy look on her face.
I feel kind of bad about what I did to my ex partner, so I’m glad Kate is looking out for her.
Maybe things aren’t so bad. I’ve made over ten thousand dollars, and heck, they’ll be a whole new crop of freshmen to convert next year, not to mention transfer students. And I’m already expanding to other schools. When the girls’ softball team played our rivals the other day, everyone thought the bellies would go down in defeat. But the opposing pitcher could never find any of our players’ strike zones, and ended up walking so many players in that they forfeited. By the time the game was over, I had five new customers from the other school.
I wonder how this will affect girls’ basketball. I don’t have a lot of school spirit, but I feel I owe it to the team to even the playing field. A little of the potion in their locker room…I picture ten bellies sitting inert on the hardwood court.
And of course I’ll start college in a couple of years. It was a stroke of luck that I managed to piece together Alyx’s notes and can brew as much bellification formula as I need. I could end up a very rich woman if people keep clamoring for this.
The future is bright. Who cares if no one asked me to some stupid dance. Who cares…
They’re announcing the homecoming court now. Three round and beautiful bellies, with tiny crowns balanced on their apex. But when they announce the queen…
Yep, it’s Rochelle. Riding on a flowered chair, wrapped in a sheath of taffeta, escorted by the captain of the football team. One hundred percent body fat. Nothing but a belly. And she still beat me.
I don’t want to stay here while her date wheels her around in the spotlight and kisses her belly button with the whole school watching. I storm off into the lobby. I’m so furious that I kick a potted plant.
“Young lady!” barks an adult voice. I turn. It’s Ms. Meriwether, my language arts teacher.
“Oh, uh…”
“This is a school sponsored event, and if you cannot control yourself, I suggest you go home at once.”
“I’m sorry.” And I’m so not in the mood for this.
“You need to show a little respect. We haven’t had a single problem with any of the other girls here, not so much as a cigarette. I think you could take a lesson from that nice girl Rochelle…”
I pull out my spritzer and watch as my teacher dissolves into a belly on the floor, her clothes flopping around her.
Huh. Wouldn’t have taken her for the leopard skin underwear type. I head out the door into the night, bumping into Mr. Spires, the young wrestling coach, who’s coming in.
“Ms. Meriwether wants to talk to you,” I tell him as we pass. As the door closes, I just catch his surprised and pleased gasp.
I sit on a bench, utterly alone. This is all Rochelle’s fault. But the year isn’t over, and I found other interesting spells in Alyx’s book. I’ll get my revenge yet. And for now, there are plenty of other girls to bellify. I hold the spritzer tight in my hand…
Tight. I accidentally sprayed it, didn’t I?
And the nozzle was facing me.
I can feel my belly expand and my limbs begin to shorten. The spritzer falls from my shortening fingers and shatters on the ground. I let out a sigh, my last ever.
“I guess I deserve this.”
I NO LONGER HAVE EYES…BUT I CAN STILL SENSE EVERYTHING AROUND ME. I NO LONGER HAVE EARS, BUT I’M SOMEHOW AWARD OF THE SOUND. IT’S COLD OUT, BUT I FEEL WARM. THIS ISN’T THAT UNPLEASANT. A SORT OF RETURN TO THE WOMB. I’M NOT SCARED.
I JUST HOPE SOMEONE TAKES CARE OF ME.
Timothy Chang emigrated from Hong Kong last year with his family. He was a handsome boy of seventeen, with black hair, a charming face, and a lean frame. But he was a shy kid, and very self conscious about his poor English. He had a hard enough time talking to girls in China. But these American girls with their perfect skin and lack of body parts were even more intimidating. His friends had convinced him to go stag to the dance, but now he was outside, all alone.
No he wasn’t. A girl was sitting on a bench. Sarah, her name was. She’d always struck him as aloof, but something told him he’d always regret not talking to her tonight.
“Sarah? Hey. Do you mind if I join you?”
She doesn’t object. They sit there in silence for a while, but it’s not awkward. She doesn’t speak, which takes away the pressure for him to have to say something, to confuse his words. It was nice, sitting her like this. And when he puts his arm around her, she doesn’t complain.
“Sarah? I see you did that beautification procedure on yourself. It works. You look good.”
Did he imagine it, or did her belly blush slightly? Emboldened, he asks her if she’d like to go inside and dance.
Sarah doesn’t say no. Timothy gently picks her up and carries her inside, back to the dance.