What would college-boy-Jason think of those probiotic sodas, like Ollipop? I found that the flavors are really good (and where else can you get banana soda?) but if I have more than one, the extra fiber messes with me in some... fun... ways.
Oh my gosh, I'd never even heard of these... they sound hardcore! Are they popular with college kids now? ( Oh god, I sound so old... I've only been off-campus for two years, I'm not such a grandma! ) I can totally imagine him trying these out; maybe one of his guy friends gives it to him, maybe they're using them to bulk up and convince Jason to try them out. ( Jason has no interest in bulking, but these sodas look really yummy... he can never resist Banana Cream! )
So, for the next two weeks, Jason is living off these sodas. He always has one on-hand, always sipping one in between classes... he doesn't pay attention to how much he's drinking, but it's like... 2-3 sodas a day. And... yeah, it's definitely having an effect.
He's going much easier. More frequently, too, if he's being honest. Sometimes, he's just gaming or sitting in class, and all of a sudden, his stomach gives a deep grumble... it's contents turn over and begin to stir, and urgent pressure building in his gut. Very urgent. The next gurgle (loud enough to turn his classmates' heads) tells him, oh shit, it's time to go.
He's never actually shit his pants before, but for some reason, it's become a real concern lately. He's spending... a lot more time on the toilet. And his jeans are starting to feel really tight...
"You're bloated," Jenna murmurs, curled up beside him in bed. Jason's shirt is pulled up to expose his round, plush belly; his pants are unbuttoned. As she slowly massages his gut, it ushers up a series of soft hiccup-belches... jolting him, rattling his chest. Jason doesn't bother stifling them --- Jenna likes to know her work is having an effect.
"Don't know why," he mutters. "Haven't been eating big lately."
Her keen gaze flickers over to him.
Jason flushes. "I mean... too big. Haven't been stuffing myself. I've actually been sane at the dining hall lately... no third helpings."
"Mmm. That's a shame," Jenna murmurs, and gives his soft hip a pinch. Jason squeaks, then snorts a laugh. She can tease him all she likes, but he's not going to be embarrassed about his weight. It's very comfortable.
The bloating, though, is getting annoying. His stomach feels heavy and taut; it's getting hard to button his pants, and it's constantly gurgling. Loud enough to distract people in class, and leave him flushed as he makes his way across camps. Some days, he feels like there's a lead balloon in his belly, and it's just slowly blowing up, getting rounder and heavier...
Jenna massages the bottom of his round tummy, right where the gurgling is strongest. Jason isn't expecting it. A massive belch takes him completely by surprise, rolling up his gullet with a thick gurgling sound. He follows it up with a few smaller belches, mouth hanging open in shock. God, he needed that. He really--- aaauUUURP-- needed that.
By the time he's on Week Three of drinking Olipops, there's no denying the bloating. He's running for the toilet at inopportune moments... and when he raises his hand during a lecture to answer a question, a thick belch slips out instead. Jason's eyes widen; around him, people snicker and stare. His stomach gives a loud, insistent groan... and he has to adjust his sitting position. Stupid fucking gas. He's plagued by it. There's no escape, no moment he can forget what his stomach is brewing. The constant gurgles are proof of that.
Sanaa is the one to finally snap, snatching the can out of Jason's hand and dumping the rest into the sink. Jason springs up to protest... but his belly is huge and round, taut at a drum, and he can't move quickly. "Hey!" he gasps, and burps in distress. "I need that!"
"You," Sanaa declares, "have a problem. If you don't drop these awful sodas soon, you won't even be able to get out of bed. Look at your stomach, Jason! Does that seem normal to you?"
Reluctantly, Jason lowers his eyes to his belly. God, it's huge. Hidden beneath heavy winter clothing, it's not so noticeable, but now that his belly is out in the open... there's no hiding it. Although softened by a layer of chub, his stomach is a round dome, with very little give. When he presses a tentative hand into it, his guts rumble... and he has to clench against a burst of gas. Jesus, he's filled with it.
When he opens his mouth to reply, a wet hicc-UUrp escapes instead. His cheeks flush. It would be nice to control his gas, that's for sure.
"It's not a problem," he asserts. "I'm just crazy about that Banana Cream flavor. Tastes like heaven in a can. I mean..." The longer she stares at him, the more flustered he becomes. "C'mon, it's protein! It's healthy for you!"
"In moderation," Sanaa replies, the silky folds of her hijab rustling as she crosses her arms. "How many have you had today?"
Jason doesn't answer. He's already on his second--- and man, if he doesn't get to a bathroom soon, he's gonna have a problem.
Sanaa's gaze is crisp and cool; she stares him down, almost tranquil in her disappointment. It's a weird feeling, being seen straight through. Her eyes are a deep amber brown, with a hint of green when the sunlight hits just right; her expression is tranquil, like she could do this all day.
Finally, Jason gives in. "Alright," he says, holding up his empty hands. "Okay. Maybe I have... an issue. I'll work on it."
"No, Jason, you have to quit."
"But... but I've got... a whole pack at home..." He gestures weakly to an invisible case of protein soda. Not like the stuff's cheap.
"Give it to a friend," she sighs. "Or... drink it all in one night and blow your guts out. One last hurrah."
This thought actually makes Jason shudder (which is probably a good sign). If he drank the entire case, he wouldn't leave the toilet for a week. He'd have to set up shop there. Move his desk in, bring a pillow, change his damn zipcode. 18700-BATHROOM.
How gut gives a deep, low rumble... and that decides the problem for him.
"Okay," he sighs, "I'll quit. But... ugh, sorry San, I've gotta go. Like, now."
Wordlessly, Sanaa steps aside, allowing Jason to hasten towards the bathroom. His bloated belly makes it impossible for him to run; it's more like a very determined waddle. Watching him go, Sanaa slowly crushes the empty soda can in her hand.
