Until I Met You (America x Chubby!Reader x Yandere!2P!America)

Found You

It was a Sunday, not just any Sunday though. It was Super Bowl Sunday, which meant that the majority of Blackwell's student body were at the Prescotts, to watch the game or grab as much free food as they could, or both.

As usual, Alfred arrived late. Almost everyone gathered around his red pickup truck when it rolled down in the front yard. He got out, the girls practically drooling at his plaid shirt and dark jeans.

Ethan Prescott tumbled out the house, "Dude! So glad you could make it"

"You know I wouldn't miss this for the world." Alfred replied, giving him a brofist "How's the game?"

Ethan snaked an arm around Alfred's neck, "Come on in and find out for yourself. The ladies and the TV have been waiting"

"Have you been drinking?" It was a stupid question, Alfred knew, but he still couldn't believe how a eighteen-year-old could drink more beer than his own dad.

His parents were all right; a sip or two was okay so long as he knew when to stop, but drugs were a no-no. Not that Alfred ever tried or was ever interested. He already had enough problems to deal with.

He pinched his nose and shoved Ethan's face away, "Let's just go inside before you pass out."

On their way inside, Ethan lost balance and pulled on Alfred's jacket.

"Dammit, Ethan!" He reached out to something for support, but instead caught hold of someone.

A girl, nobody he knows personally but most likely someone from school, hissed when he and Ethan dragged her down by accident. To add insult to injury, they landed on her.

Alfred was quick to get up and remove his classmate off the girl.

"Hey, whaddaya know, I don't feel a thing. Oh!" Ethan waved his red cup at their victim, "Good thing you're a big girl, eh?"

He wasn't wrong. Alfred wasn't going to lie; with her full thighs obvious in those skinny jeans and a gut bulging out her t-shirt, the girl definitely weighed on the heavier side of the scale. She almost reminded him of his mom, though his mother wasn't shy of her figure and always dressed to the nines; even when at home she wore makeup and wore a silk robe.

Alfred clenched his fist and delivered a smack on Ethan's head. His mom also told him to always stand up to bullies, even if he wasn't the target.

"Hey, what the fuck, man?" Ethan rubbed the sore area on his skull.

Alfred ignored him and held out his arm to the girl, already opening his mouth to apologize. However, as she reached for his open hand, the entire house shook in uproar.

"Oh my God, did you see that? His spine has to be broken!"

"What? No way!"

A player from their team had collapsed onto the ground and was now being rolled away from the field on a gurney.

"Alfred, come on, we gotta see this!" Ethan, apparently now sober, left his cup on the ground and then grabbed Alfred's collar.

Alfred didn't have time to protest or even say goodbye as a blonde had already dashed to the girl's side and practically dragged her to the opposite direction.

Several hours have already passed but Alfred still couldn't shake the guilt off his chest, nor had he encountered the girl for a second time.

Alfred downed the rest of his soda in one big gulp before letting out a bigger burp, much to the displeasure of a guy sitting next to him.

Guilt equates to stress, and Alfred didn't do well against stress.

While he hasn't even tasted the beer or ale or gin his friends desperately fought each other for, Alfred had consumed three hot dogs, three hamburgers, two big bags of potato chips and one large soda. He was a guy so nobody noticed when he ate so much.

However, he knew, and now the contents of his stomach were boiling. He had to go.

Tori, an aspiring photographer and one of his many fangirls, asked if everything was okay when he suddenly got off his seat.

"Yeah, I just need to go use the bathroom real quick." He reassured her with a smile, which was reciprocated with a blush.

Alfred ran off, knowing the house's layout like it was his own place because of the countless parties he's been invited to there. And he of all the rooms, he's probably most acquainted with the bathroom on the second floor.

A lot of the students were too lazy to walk upstairs and preferred the washrooms in the garage and near the kitchen, so Alfred didn't have to worry about anybody walking in on him.

Unfortunately, this time, it was closed. He rattled the door knob for the third time. Definitely locked.

He then heard moaning, followed by a woman shouting Jesus' name.

Alfred threw both hands in the air, "Okay, occupied. Got it."

He jogged outside. He couldn't use the first floor toilets (neither had working locks), and a couple were busy in the second floor rest room, so he had to take a third option.

He went to the Prescotts' miniature garden out back. It wasn't anything extraordinary, just some vegetables and flowers Mr. Prescott grew himself, but it was flat and dull and prone to attracting insects so it dissuaded most teenagers from coming close.

Alfred stopped behind a growing apple tree. He took two fingers and shoved it down his throat. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes as the acid stirred inside him.

He bent over, pulling out his fingers just in time before his dinner poured out his mouth.

Alfred heaved and coughed, forcing it all out his stomach.

"Dammit" He wiped his lips with the back of his hand.

He checked the time—already a quarter past ten. Uh, oh. He promised his parents that he'd be home before 11. His dad wouldn't mind if he arrived a few minutes late; his mom, on the other hand, would flip.

Alfred fixed his hair and collar. He spun on his foot, but much to his surprise, someone was there with him.

It was the girl.

Shit.

"There you are" A blonde boy walked towards us. Alfred was worried for a second that he might start asking questions, but it was like the newcomer didn't even see him. His attention was on the girl alone, "I found Arin. Wait 'til grandmother sees her drunk ass now."

The girl nodded and followed her friend back inside the house, she didn't even turn her head back to glance at Alfred.

Once they were gone, Alfred dashed back inside his truck.

If she knew why he was throwing up, then that was the first time that he's ever been caught.