The Runner-up of 2014 Flash Fiction Competition

2nd Prize

Kerry Chiron:

Cartoon Me

I always arrive at the bus stop at the last minute; even if I was first in the queue I wouldn’t be first on the bus. I see Darren elbow an old lady out of the way as he charges down the aisle; the bus driver yells something but it’s half hearted and lost in the general shouting and name calling. Cartoon me imagines grabbing Darren by his over gelled hair and pulling him to the floor where he apologizes to the old woman. Instead, I slip into a seat near the front and try to disappear.

I’m out of luck, the back seat is full, so Darren and his friends squash themselves into the seats to my left. They turn their pasty faces to the passengers. I feel my stomach muscles clench as if an invisible claw has my intestines in its grip.

“Hey Rachel! Rachel!” shouts a boy with a pit-bull face.

Rachel is a tiny girl who puberty seems to have forgotten, her chest resembles a breadboard. Rachel is sitting directly in front of me; she hangs her head so that her red curls cover her face.

“Hey Rachel, is it true you wear beer mats for a bra?” asks Darren.

It’s an old joke, but they all snigger. Cartoon me is forcing Darren to eat a beer mat. Whole.

“Rachel, when are you going to get your kit off?” says another, his half broken voice making him sound like a bad female impersonator.

“Pack it in, I’ve just eaten!” groans Aiden. Aiden is the best looking boy in the school. I steal a glance at him, his beautiful lips are curled in contempt. Rachel’s hand comes up to wipe her cheek, and her shoulders slump a little lower. Cartoon me whispers ‘don’t listen,’ in her ear. Darren lances a screwed up paper bag at Rachel’s head, it bounces off and lands in an old man’s lap. He opens his mouth and is about to say something, but thinks better of it. He closes his mouth and looks straight ahead like everyone else on the bus, except Cartoon me, of course, who glares at Darren.

“Rachel! That’s one sad hair cut.”

Her shoulders are trembling ever so slightly and I know she’s crying now. My hand darts forward; I want to squeeze her shoulder, comfort her. I really do. But I feel Aiden’s eyes on me and my hand stops in mid air. Suddenly my fingers are in my mouth fishing out my chewing gum; I push it into Rachel’s hair. She doesn’t flinch. Laughter explodes to my left. I turn my head towards them and Aiden is smiling at me; I’ve just become visible. A rush of adrenaline sets my heart thumping like some mad techno beat. The bus stops and there is the usual scramble for the doors. Cartoon me is getting off the bus too; I can’t see her face but her shoulders are trembling as her hand comes up to wipe her cheek.