Flash Fiction: Drama Sandwich

Drawing by Allison Tupper, age 6

Flash Fiction

This bit of flash fiction didn’t quite meet the criteria for a challenge I tried this week but it was fun to crawl inside Jade’s head and discuss Jules from her point of view. And who doesn’t like a little extra glimpse inside the Tenderfoot world?

*****

DRAMA SANDWICH

Just this once, I’m doing it – I’m breaking the don’t-eat-your-roommate’s-food rule.

At least I have a good excuse. Cheerleading practice ran late and I missed dinner in the cafeteria. That pissed me off to no end because dad-burn-it, it was Chicken Fried Steak night! Wouldn’t you know, I ran extra laps before practice just so I could smother my dinner in gravy. Now instead of pouring it on, I’m in our dorm room rifling through Jules’ stash. At least she has one. All I have is skunked beer.

On top of her fridge, I find half a loaf of bread. I grab that and open the small black door to her cube-sized fridge. I don’t need to dig much to find something to put on the bread; there’s a pouch of deli meat on top of several bottles of water. There’s also something that looks like cheese but it’s not the right color of orange. Hastily, I put it back, next to a jar of something called lingonberry jam. Jules is always eating weird-looking cheese. For an American, she eats some seriously strange stuff. I guess that’s what happens when you grow up some place else. I rummage around and move some deli packages to the side. There’s no mayo.

Butter it is then. I grab it and shut the door. I carry everything in my arms over to my desk. I push some stuff out of the way and drop the ingredients on it. Now I need a knife. There’s a clean one in a plastic cup on top of Jules’ fridge but if I use it, I know I’m going to have to clean it. It’s one thing to eat her food, it’s another to leave her a dirty knife. In my catch-all basket, I locate a plastic one in a mess of napkins. After a quick swipe on my pants, it’s good.

You can tell Jules grew up somewhere else just by looking at her clothes. For instance, half of them are black. And the other half? They’re running clothes! Jules doesn’t look bad, she just doesn’t wear the right ones. This is a competitive campus. She’s got to kick it up a notch.

I untwist the tie from bag and take out two slices of bread. I frown. It’s whole wheat bread. I really wish it was white but I guess beggars can’t be choosers. My uncaring stomach growls.

One day I took Jules shopping at the mall and she tried on a heap of clothes. She was a good sport, and even bought a few of them, but I knew she was uncomfortable. She got that look of hers, the one where she’s smiling yet her eyes are telling ya something different. To be honest, Jules did look kind of odd in most of them. I think her style is just as different as she is.

I unwrap the cold chunk of butter. I realize it is in no way softened when I try to spread some on the knife. I struggle but eventually I have an ungainly hunk carved off and on the bread. By the time I give up, there’s bits and pieces not only on the bread but on my desk and the floor. I smooth the bread out to hide the hole where the bread tore. Still, a bit o’ butter is better than none.

And yet. This roommate of mine landed herself a total hottie – and then dumped him! I didn’t even know for the longest time that they’d broken up. Like seriously, right? I reach for the meat and open the pouch. It’s roast beef. I shake my head. It sucked that she didn’t tell me. It sucked that I didn’t even know they were fighting or whatever. And she’s my roommate! She’s supposed to tell me this shit! Worst of all, it continues to suck because she’s obviously still in love with him. For reals, on Halloween they kissed in the middle of the street like nobody else even existed. I should have known something was up when she started studying all the time. I pull several shaved slices out. It’s way more than I intended at first, but the smell of it is so good, I drop what I have onto my sort-of-buttered bread except for one, which I stuff in my watering mouth. I chew. “Studying” my ass. I saw her eyes. Jules was crying them out wherever the hell it was she was hiding.

I wrap the meat and butter up but I can’t find the twist tie for the bread bag. I turn around to check the floor and my eyes light on the flowers Andrew sent Jules. They are gorgeous, just gorgeous. He clearly wants her back. God, what is her deal? She likes him, he likes her, why the heck aren’t they together? I find the twist tie on the floor near her bed.

I like Jules. She puts up with my mess, listens to my boy problems, and we rock out together at concerts for her “friend” Nick’s band. He’s just dying to get into her pants, I don’t understand why she doesn’t see that. She’s just so different. And sometimes, a little creepy. I would swear she knows when I’m lying, and I’ve caught her watching me. I’m not sure why she does that but it makes me feel like a bug. She’s my friend but I just don’t know where I stand with her.

I slap the bread together, pick the sandwich up, and take the biggest bite ever. It’s delicious. I chew, ravenous. After another bite, I take it with me in one hand as I put everything back with the other.

I realize Jules is like this sandwich. At first glance, it’s exactly what you expect it to be but like her, it turns out to be something different. Something a little damaged.

I take another huge bite. The door to the dorm room opens.

*****

One thought on “Flash Fiction: Drama Sandwich

  1. A good mayo is a sandwich’s best friend…
    I even tried some “unimaginable” combination’s with it. 🙂

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