Giavanna sent Natalie to class with two 'slices' of garlic bread. By slices, I mean halves of loaves. And by loaves, I mean a foot-long, 3-inch thick cut of focaccia. And by garlic bread, I mean deep-fried bread dunked in olive oil. At least, that's what it looked like to Natalie. In reality, it was much worse than that, but words only describe so much. Natalie was torn. The food smelled so good, but Natalie knew that it would be one step closer to overweight on the BMI scale. She couldn't increase calorie intake without increasing her calorie burning, but what sport was there for such a slim and frail girl? She didn't have the strength for cheerleading.
Whoa. Cross-country.
It was brilliant. Eat carbs. Carry a small body for a long time. Burn carbs. Stay thin. Natalie actually scratched her head. Was it really that simple? Natalie put it in the back of her mind to find out. In the meantime, since she had no money on her, and was hungry, ate the the oil-drenched bread.
After a long, boring writing class (no student wants to listen to an old white guy talk for two hours regarding how to write better), Natalie decided that she was going to come back to the sorority later, and instead went to the front office, to be created by a chubby and pleasant brunette behind a broad mahogany desk. "Hi, may I help you?"
Ugh, Natalie thought. Why can't we just have a few enormous people instead of a bunch of chubby people? "Could you tell me the name of the cross country coach and his probable current location?"
"Yeah sure… just give me a minute." The woman spun a perfect 90 degrees to her right, slid a couple feet, and pulled out a binder. Man, Natalie thought. I totally have to get Giavanna one of those. Maybe Claire too. "All right, Mr. Ron is probably in S-1, his classroom right now."
Natalie found her way to Mr. Ron's room, and joined the recreational cross-country team by putting her name on a bit of lined paper. Coach, her tiny rear end. Each day, their exercises were put on the board, and the team went and did them. The combination of the complete lack of body fat and body muscle made her want to throw up, but she did it anyway, since it seemed to help her build up a good reputation. It didn't help that the exercises were so long, like, a 90 minute run? Seriously? But it seemed like it would keep the weight off, so she did the exercises anyway.

Meanwhile, Giavanna had just gotten on the StairMaster. Exercising for Giavanna had three benefits; weight gain postponement, muscle strengthening, and thought enhancement. Of course, it made her… more sweaty, and sensitive to her ever-expanding body, but those were short term. Giavanna grabbed firmly onto the metal handles, and began moving her legs, causing her double apron belly to shake back and forth, left and right, like a sandbag being knocked around by children, but bigger and less random, and mer massive breasts to jump up and down like water balloons. Her bottom wobbled frantically at many angles, as if it was uncontrollably vibrating, and she was barely making a step every 3 seconds. Giavanna had to stop wearing underwear when she exercised; it would always burst from the shaking about. As a result, she exercised, yes, naked, allowing increased movement in her bottom, breasts, and gut.
Good God, I've gotten fat..ter. I really hope I didn't get fatter than my mother; that would just be embarrassing. Oh, and I wouldn't fit in her clothes. I can't believe I actually exceed the weight capacity on this thing. At least I'm not too heavy for Natalie. Actually, I'm not heavy enough for her. I can't believe she actually wants me a lot fatter. (Giavanna grabbed the top roll of her belly with one hand, and gently shook it. Rather, she tried to; her hand failed to encompass the circumference of the roll.) I'm already freaking huge... Being fat isn't so bad I guess. At least I can eat as much of whatever I want. Getting fatter is still the main problem; I still want to be able to move, for crying out loud. (Giavanna burst into laughter here and pauses the machine as her next thought entered her mind, causing her body to undulate like a badly folded curtain in the wind. It quickly became a coughing fit, causing her to double over, allowing all of the fat to hang out. Giavanna shortly regained her composure, and resumed her exercise.) Heh, I'm better off than that bitch Claire now. I'm still a lot bigger than her, but she's having a harder time getting around. But she's still a problem; a lot of Natalie's free time still goes to her. Wait, she's having a harder time getting around? Hmm... She never eats with us...
Giavanna cackled. She had trouble in store for Claire. Big trouble. Literally. Giavanna logged into Natalie's Mac Pro (after all, she had been her tutor at one point; why shouldn't she have her own account) and made a VoIP call to a friend in the BioChemistry department. She had a debt to call in. See, Giavanna was the test subject for a weight loss formula 2 years back. It worked… by removing more water than what was healthy. To make a long story shorter, it took Giavanna a week to recover. And she gained all of the weight right back. And then some.
"Hey. Dan?"
"Oh… hey Giavanna… how've you been? Still no hard feelings about the incident, right?"
"Sure, sure, whatever. Hey, we never finished talking about that."
"Uh-oh."
"No, no, I'm not going to do anything drastic. I just wondered if you had a formula that did the opposite."
"You mean, a weight gain formula?"
"Yeah."
"Aren't there like, a couple hundred on the market?"
"No, no, not muscle. Fat."
"Fat?"
"What, do you not understand? Do I need to say adipose?"
There was an audible face palm. From both sides. "No, I was just surprised. First you hate being fat, now you want to be fatter?"
Giavanna almost answered yes. "Y… no! A friend's severely underweight."
"Ahh, okay… well, come to think of it, our first prototype caused severe weight gain in a mouse."
"Ummm, how severe?"
"Well, we fed it and another mouse the same diet. One mouse maintained body weight. The other one doubled its body weight."
Giavanna began sweating bullets and tensed up… well, as much as someone of her corpulence could tense up;  If this went wrong, Claire could die. And that wouldn't be good. "How long did it take?"
"Well, 6 months. We've been trying for a while. So it's perfect for your little friend."
Giavanna relaxed. "And after that?"
"It's a daily administration. Half of an ounce. Oral. So we could've gone longer if we wanted to."
"When can I get it?"
"I still share a class with Sasha, so she can give it to you tomorrow. But you need to promise me something."
"Yeah?"
"Don't use this on anyone else."
"Got it."
"And don't exceed the half ounce dosage."
"Why not?"
"You'll permanently damage the metabolism. Or worse. Oh, one more thing."
"Yeah?"
"Please don't use this on anyone else. We don't want to go to jail or anything."
"All right." Yeah. Sure.
"Thanks." With that, there was an ominous digital click of a phone hitting its stand.
Giavanna grinned, trying to imagine Claire several times heavier and bedridden, completely unable to move due to her imaginary massive size, with her gut covering the rest of her body completely and rising in the air 2 feet above her as she wheezed, while her globe-sized breasts hung to the side under her formless arms. It'll be better when it happens, she thought.