Part XIX

"Are you ever going to get up?"

Xander mumbled wordlessly, rolling onto his side.

"Come on, it's really late."

He ignored her.

Suddenly his pillow was unceremoniously yanked out from beneath his head, causing his skull to bounce off the mattress.  "Ow."

"If you don't get up, next thing that's getting pulled off is your blanket," Cee warned him.

"Don't you dare," he replied, reaching for the edges of his comforter in terror.  He could feel that his entire belly was bare, his shirt having crept up over it as he'd tossed and turned last night.

"Then get up!"

He opened his eyes.  Cee was standing in front of his bed, hands on her hips, already clad in her leathery black attire, he noted with some disappointment.  "What time is it?"

"It's late."

"Okay, what time is 'late?'"

"It's already after ten."

"After ten?  Why are you awake?"

"I've been up since eight.  You should be up, too," she admonished him.

"It's still too early..."  He closed his eyes again.

"I will rip that blanket right off of you."

"Fine."  He reached down beneath the comforter and adjusted his shirt as best as he could before tossing the covers back and sitting up.  "Why do I have to get up again?"

"Because we have a lot to do today," she sang.  "We have to get you some breakfast - well, brunch, I guess - and we have to go to the house so we can get you started on training."

"Training?" he asked timidly.  He yawned widely and stretched, his arms reaching high above his head, before he realized that that only pulled his shirt up and exposed his gut to Cee's view.  He quickly put his arms down, stifling the rest of his yawn behind his palm.

She grinned devilishly.  "Yup.  Weapons," she told him.  

"You're not serious."

"I'm completely serious," she said.  "Darshan will want to start you right away, probably on swords or staff, so that you can defend yourself if one of us can't be there with you.  Although I'm more than happy to be on Xander detail."

"Great," he replied weakly.  He could just imagine himself stumbling about with a sword in hand.  Someone would probably be injured, and it would most likely be him.

"So come on, let's go!"

He ran his fingers through his hair nervously.  "Could you, uh, leave for a few minutes so I can get dressed?"

"You ain't got nothin' I haven't seen before, Pudge.  I have three older brothers."

Xander blushed.  "Well, despite what you have or haven't seen, I'm not moving until you go out into the hall."

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, obviously exasperated at his refusal to allow her to witness his stripping down to his skivvies, but walked over to the door and let herself out.  Not wanting a repeat of the night before, Xander followed her over and locked the door behind her.

"Seriously?  You're locking it?" her muffled voice came through the door.

He ignored her and began to pull clothes from his dresser, trying to find the newest, biggest sizes.  He chose a pair of roomy cargo pants and a short-sleeved blue button-down that had a bit of stretch to it.  He quickly slipped out of his tight pajamas and, with a look of disgust, tossed them into his laundry basket.  "I need to buy new pajamas," he muttered to himself as he stepped out of his boxers and threw them in the laundry basket, as well.  "And new boxers."  He caught a glimpse of the deep red line in his soft hip that the elastic of his undergarments had created.  They shouldn't be that tight, he told himself, they're four exes.  Yeah, but your new pants are fifty sixes, lardass.  He sighed as he pulled a fresh pair of boxers on, feeling the waistband settle underneath the overhang of his huge belly and the fabric tighten over his ass.  He wriggled into his pants and shirt without too much difficulty, and surveyed the results in the mirror.  "Yup, you still look like a whale," he told himself.

Just then, Cee banged on the door.  "Stop that!"

He jumped guiltily, then tore his gaze away from the mirror to grab his sneakers from their resting place by the door.  He gingerly sat in his desk chair, not wanting to cause the whole thing to collapse, and pulled his shoes on.  He then got to his feet and unlocked and opened the door.

Cee stood in the hallway, arms still crossed, glaring at him.  "You need to stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Calling yourself names."

"I..."

"No excuses," she told him.  "It's terrible for your self esteem."

"What self esteem?" he muttered.

Cee let out an irritated noise.  "Come on, let's go get you some brunch."

Xander let them out of his room and locked the door behind them.  Cee bounded down the steps, all the while chattering away.  "You really shouldn't put yourself down like that, Pudge," she told him.  "There is absolutely nothing wrong with you just the way you are."

They made their way down the hill to Xander's car and got in.  To avoid having Cee lecture him about self esteem any more, Xander turned the CD player on and dialed up the volume.  His favorite band, Velvet Sky, pounded out of the speakers.

"This is pretty good, Pudge," Cee yelled over the thumping bass.  "I like it."

"It's Velvet Sky," he replied.

"Ooh, cool name.  I like it," she reaffirmed.

He pulled into the parking lot of the union building and just sat there for a few moments, trying to psych himself up to go inside.  He knew that Sheriece was working the late shift today, so she wouldn't be there now to serve him breakfast.  He wondered who would be there: Jason, the young pothead who'd never left his alma mater, or Sue, the miserable old woman who took great pleasure in yelling at her customers.

"What's wrong, Pudge?"

"Nothing."

"Sheriece isn't here yet?  That's no big deal.  Do you want to wait?"

He sighed.  "No, we can go in."

Xander hefted himself out of the car and made his way up to the front doors, Cee close at his heels.  It looked like the counter was empty, and he experienced a moment of relief - it was probably Jason who was there this morning, in the back, trying to sleep off whatever partying he'd done the night before.  Jason was rarely aware enough to give him a hard time about what he ordered.

Cee patted him on the arm and told him that she was going to go get some cereal and get them a seat.  He just nodded as he stepped up to the counter, his stomach already grumbling in anticipation.  But his excitement was dashed as a tall, thin woman with greying hair and a sour expression stepped into view.

She gave him a long, thorough look that he shrank under.  "What'll it be?" she barked at him, practically daring him with her eyes to order his usual size breakfast.

"Um...four w-waffles...with cream cheese...and...three scrambled eggs..." he told her shyly.

She grimaced at him.  "Digging his grave with a fork and knife," she muttered as she turned to begin preparing his food.

He blinked, shocked.  He'd only ordered about a third of what he normally ate for breakfast, and she still thought that was too much?

It is too much, you fucking pig, he told himself.  You shouldn't be having anything more than a bowl of cereal, if that.

He stood there awkwardly, his face burning red as he waited for his food.  Finally, Sue emerged from the kitchen with two foam containers and dropped them on the counter in front of him.  She wordlessly held out her hand for his card, and, fumbling a bit, he handed it to her.  She swiped it, all the while muttering under her breath.  "Disgusting, fat pig," he caught her mumble as she handed his card back to him.  He swallowed hard and quickly gathered up his breakfast and left the food court.

Cee waved him over from a booth in the back corner of the seating area.  She'd thoughtfully pushed the table all the way over to one side so he could fit at the booth, and was sitting on a chair that she'd pulled up to the end of the table.  "Is this okay?"

He sighed a little.  "Yeah.  Thank you," he told her gratefully.  He sat down and opened his containers, gazing at the food forlornly.

"That's all you're having?" she asked him, sounding concerned.

He didn't reply.

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Why didn't you get more?  Who cares about that old bat?"

"I didn't want more."

"You're a terrible liar, Pudge, y'know that?"

"Would you stay out of my head?"

"You make it too easy."

"How's that?"

"You just do," she told him, as if it should have been obvious.

He sighed heavily and dug into his eggs.  He polished off his food on a matter of minutes and sat there, sipping his orange juice glumly.

"Why don't you go get some more?" Cee asked him as she slurped up the last of the milk in her bowl.

Xander just gave her a look.

"Seriously," she said.  "You're still hungry.  Do you want me to get it for you?"

"Knock it off," he told her.  "That was more than enough for a normal person.  I'm fine."

She gave him an exasperated look.  "I thought you were done with this shit.  Just eat what you're hungry for and stop trying to starve yourself, because you know that it doesn't work.  All it does is make you miserable."

Xander blushed furiously.  "Just...stop it, alright?  I'm not going up there again to order what I really want and have her tell me what a pig I am."

"You're not a pig, and you know it.  You're a human being."

He rolled his eyes in disgust.   "I am a pig," he muttered viciously.  "A huge, corpulent, repulsive pig."

Cee was silent for a moment.  "Please don't talk about yourself like that," she said quietly a few seconds later.

"Why not?" he sighed.  "It's true."

Cee exploded.  "No, it's not," she insisted, pounding her fist into the table.  "You are none of those things.  Sure, you're bigger than the average guy, but that doesn't mean you're a horrible person.  All it means is that you're big.  And in addition to being big, you're also intelligent, sweet, caring, and handsome.  Those are the things that matter.  And what the hell is 'average,' anyway?  Nobody's average.  We're all messed up in one way or another.  So stop putting yourself down, right now."

He just stared at her.  Handsome?  What the hell? he thought, genuinely confused.  He'd never thought he was ugly, exactly, but handsome?

She stared back at him, a look of pure determination on her face as she willed him to believe her.

Somehow he couldn't brush off her seriousness.  "Sorry," he said meekly.

"Don't apologize to me," she told him, "apologize to yourself.  Now are you going to go get some more to eat?"

He gulped, but shook his head.

Cee sighed.  "Fine.  Let's get going; Darshan will be wondering where we are."