For all of the shit-talking that Uma did about how strong she was or how much she worked out, the last thing that Reagan needed was to run the risk of helping her bulk up and get buff or something. It wasn't about the mass as much as it was about the attitude, and a 'roided up Uma was the last thing that anyone needed. Especially Reagan. Doubly so if Uma ever found out about it.
No, those purple-capped bottles were exactly what the doctor ordered. Of all the growth hormones out there, bovine was best in this situation. Weight gain, lethargy, and an increased appetite were all things that needed to happen if Reagan was gonna help nudge Uma back onto the chubby wagon. And all in pill form, too!
"She said that it'd take longer, though..." Reagan scowled into the little tablet dissolving into Uma's smoothie, "...good thing I bought the big bottle."
These things were supposed to be odorless. Twisting the top off of the bottle had told Reagan that that was a lie. The pills weren't especially pungent on their own, but they were certainly bigger than Reagan was expecting. This wouldn't be as easy as dropping it into a cup of water or her coffee or something—whatever Uma was going to drink this from was gonna have to be kind of chunky and flavorful to begin with. That was the only way she was going to be able to mask the taste. It helped that Uma had started making these the nights before—she just put them in the fridge three at a time, allowing Reagan to do much the same.
The redhead's big ass swayed back and forth like a contented house cat as she dosed Uma's drinks. Her cheeks squished against the fridge's frame as she swished her chunky thighs back and forth, her flabby tummy inching closer and closer to a waist-level shelf in the fridge. After she had screwed the tops back onto Uma's smoothie cups, Reagan Durant hip-checked the refrigerator door shut with her fleshy right hip.
"Now that the hard part's taken care of..."
Reagan subconsciously gripped the little baggie of weed that Rachel had sold her a little tighter. She didn't have classes in the morning, and she'd been dying to do this since before Uma had even started cutting weight. A couple of puffs off of the Devil's grass clippings were just what the doctor ordered right about now...
***
"Does this taste funny to you?"
Uma looked down the barrel of her plastic straw skeptically before passing it off to Phoebe, who was happy to take a little slurp for herself. Smacking her full lips and thinking about it for a moment, Phoebe finally had her answer.
"Kind of. Does it have kiwi in it?"
"Phoebe we're following the same diet. Does yours have kiwi in it?"
"No."
"Then why would mine?"
The two months that Uma had spent cutting those fifteen pounds had been hard. Like hard hard. After getting so used to going home and plopping down on the couch, motivating herself to keep going at the gym had been an uphill battle. But after two months of being a gym rat with Phoebe, Uma was really beginning to feel herself again. Getting up and moving again had helped the pounds melt off pretty quickly! Chiseling off that gut she'd grown was going to take time, but Uma was slowly working on snacking less and moving more.
Y'know, most of the time.
But there were some days that she just didn't really feel it, and today was one of them. She'd been having them a lot lately—like she'd been pushing herself too hard at work. Maybe it was just her getting back into the swing of things? Either way, Uma was positive that she'd snap out of it eventually.
"I'll add more strawberries to it next time, I guess." Uma shrugged as she took a thirsty sip, "You wanna get something on our way back from the gym? I'm kinda hungry today."
And in another life Uma might have been able to snap out of it eventually, but not if Reagan had anything to say about it...
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