I Disclaimer: Daria
and Tom are the property of MTV and Viacom (or whichever large media
conglomerate owns them all this week.) I am using them without permission, but
not for profit. I hope no one is overly
offended.
I never thought I'd do this, and certainly not after I'd
pretty much sworn off writing fics, but the CINCGREEN challenge was too cool to
resist. Besides, four bucks can buy
lunch and what the hey? The challenge
is to write a fic where Daria and Jane don't become friends. How would that be? What would happen? So
here's my effort. I'll probably win by
default! Taco Bell, here I come!
Jane Muyo (No Need for Jane)
Ruthless Bunny
Daria contemplated her outfit options. Begin as you mean to go on, she
thought as she shuffled through her closet.
When they lived in Highland, it didn't really matter what she wore, it
wasn't that kind of place. People in
Highland didn't dress; they got un-naked.
But here in Lawndale, things were different. In the few days they had been here, Daria could see that it was
going to be a completely different ballgame.
On the various errands around their new neighborhood
subsequent to their move, Daria had seen the change, and was puzzled about what
to make of it. In their prefabricated
affluent suburb, The Gap had a strong hold on the young people. Daria hated
outfits from The Gap, they were just one step away from a school uniform, and
she rebelled against uniformity. So
here she stood on her first day at the new school, and not only was she
deciding what to wear, she was choosing her whole status in the high school
pecking order. Disaffected Outsider,
she decided, and selected the Army jacket, black pleated skirt and of course,
the boots. They were hot, uncomfortable
and nearly didn't fit, but the boots were the single outward indicator of her
outsider status. Nothing would signal
to the other outcasts that she was one of them. She pulled them on and clomped downstairs.
Helen took a look at her eldest and sighed inwardly. She had hoped that with the move, that
Daria would choose to take the opportunity to come out of her chrysalis, but it
appeared that she preferred to go deeper into what was becoming an annoying
display of teenage rebellion. She
didn't know what was worse, Daria's conformity with the latest in Gen-X angst,
or Quinn's apparent absorption into the collective unconscious that was teenage
suburbia. Helen had come of age in
turbulent times; she had helped save the world. When she was in school the world had significant social issues,
things to be protested or supported or boycotted. She looked at her girls and saw those issues replaced by body
glitter and depressing, unintelligible music.
She choked down her disappointment in her progeny and buttered some more
toast.
Jake drove the girls to school, and gave some advice to
Daria about fitting in. He had learned,
the hard way, that you have to go along to get along, and he had hoped to pave
an easier road for Daria than he had for himself. Quinn didn't seem to have the kind of problems fitting in that
Daria had. Of course it didn't help
that Daria didn't want to fit in, at least not with the kind of kids
that Quinn hung around with. The people
Daria liked, scared Jake. Those two
jag-offs from Highland for example, he shuddered inwardly at the
recollection. He prayed that she never
let them…he shuddered again. Well,
maybe this time, things would be different.
As Jake drove off, Daria surveyed the terrain. Typical.
Stoners alongside the library, spirit bunnies hanging out in front with
the jocks, Goth's looking miserable by the flagpole and Junior Achievement
gathered at the picnic tables ironing out details of some program or dance or
election/popularity contest. Well,
she'd see which of these groups most fit her mood, later, once she had a chance
to check them out.
New student orientation went as well as could be expected,
the principal Ms. Li was apparently on some strong anti-psychotic drugs. The tests given by the school psychologist
were laughably easy to answer. Some
days Daria felt like a smart ass, but today she didn't feel like being branded
a misfit, so she answered 'normally;' at least this way, she might get to lunch
quicker. The IQ test was an old friend
to her. Daria had a genius for taking
IQ tests, a large vocabulary and a facility with numbers always rendered her
scores high. Not that it mattered. Even if they did have a gifted class, which
they didn't, Lawndale High wasn't really prepared for dealing with someone
capable of independent thought and action.
Instead, they decided to try to get her to participate in Student
Government and to assign her more homework.
A recipe guaranteed to engender resentment and insurgence.
Daria was unaware of the back scene machinations she had
instigated. Instead she concentrated on
opening her new locker and figuring out where this History class was. The rest of her first day in school was
spent trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. She had learned that she should notice people before they noticed
her. A couple of guys had given her the
eye, starting at her boots and working their way up, but she didn't encourage
them. Plenty of time for that stuff,
once she found her niche. One thing she
learned at Highland, the guys you hang out with can make or break you.
The one extra-curricular activity she knew she wanted to be
a part of was the newspaper. She got
stuck being the fashion editor in Texas, she hoped that she could do better
here. There were a few kids in the
newspaper room, and Mr. O'Neill her strange and sensitive English teacher was
also the newspaper advisor. Again,
Daria remained quiet while the group discussed the details of publication. Once a week. Four pages. Different
departments. When it came time for
assignments, Daria, with her bohemian look, seemed a natural for Arts and
Entertainment. She was to have a review
of some cultural activity ready for publication at the next meeting. She smiled. Cool. Criticism. She was good at that, and now she'd get
praise and recognition for it. Jodie,
the editor gave her some leads for different events going on around town. She offered to go with Daria to a couple, if
it would make her feel more comfortable, considering that she was new in
town. They exchanged telephone numbers
and agreed to try to get to something over the weekend.
Daria arrived at home close to four in the afternoon. Quinn was already monopolizing the phone
with all of her new friends. Daria went
upstairs and cranked out the homework assignments for the rest of the week, and
crashed on her bed with a book. A bit of J.D. Salinger was just what she
needed. Daria liked to think that she
identified with Seymour Glass, but in reality, she wasn't depressed, she just
liked how it looked on her.
School started to feel more comfortable. Daria had taken to sitting with Jodie and
her friends at lunch. She wasn't really
part of the crowd, but at least she wasn't a scary loner. She was at the edge of the cell, slowly
being absorbed into it by osmosis. Daria and Jodie had a couple of classes
together, so it was natural that they would compare notes and study
together. Jodie was nice, but she had
lots of activities and obligations, so she wasn't really the kind of person one
became close friends with. Jodie was a
good social foundation upon which to build.
Her boyfriend Mack was smart, even if he did hang out with lunkhead
jocks. Daria cultivated a friendship
with him as well. That led to attending
football games, which put Daria in a small social whirl. It wasn't the social tornado that Quinn was
in, but at least she got out of the house.
Daria regularly contributed to the Lawndale Lowdown, she
reviewed plays, movies, art exhibits and music acts. There were only a few places to see live music in Lawndale, and
Daria had started to become known.
Sure, she was only a high school student, but she was the coolest high
schooler everyone knew, so it had its cachet.
Everyone got used to Daria's sitting at the bar, with her soda and
notebook, taking it all down for the record.
She expanded her franchise and started to do in-depth articles and
interviews for the local "underground" paper.
It was hardly underground, although it had started out that way in the
seventies. It now was self-supported by
advertising, and was found free on Wednesdays at fine bars and head shops
everywhere.
Daria had her persona.
Cool, talented, aloof writer.
She thanked God every night that she hadn't been labeled a Brain. It was much better to be Cool than it was to
be Smart. Quinn still made fun of her
outfits, and they ran in completely different groups, but when they did
intersect, it wasn't like Quinn was ashamed to know her. Everything was okay.
There was something missing though. Something that Daria had always wanted. A best friend. There was no one at school that was Daria's peer. Sure there were her 'friends,' but they were
just people she knew. It was all
surface, no depth. She needed someone
to talk to about books, movies, her hopes and dreams. The people she knew didn't seem to be interested in her that
way. She was just a chick they
knew.
Daria floated around in her world. Good grades, writing and enough participation in social
activities to keep her parents off her back.
Helen and Jake didn't have high expectations for Daria. They just hoped that they wouldn't be on the
six o'clock news sometime in the future, trying to explain what it was that
caused her to go up into the bell tower to pick people off with a high powered
rifle. At this point, it seemed a safe
bet that they wouldn't need a statement for the press.
It happened one night that Daria found herself at The
Zon. A grungy place filled with poseurs
and townies. It smelled like the
interior of a keg and feet, but they did have live music, so Daria had to check
it out. She sat in the back, in jeans
and her signature Army jacket, absorbing atmosphere and cigarette smoke the
night that Mystik Spiral played. They
had been around for a while, but everything that Daria had heard about them
made her steer clear of them. But here
she was, and here they were. At first
Daria giggled, the songs were unintentionally hilarious, but there was
something about them, something compelling.
They were totally serious about being musicians, and they weren't
letting their lack of talent stand in their way. Daria respected that. It
didn't hurt that the lead singer made her knees weak. That was a bonus.
Daria didn't write a review of them. Instead she became a regular at their
shows. Even traveling to some out of
town dates. She told herself that she
was documenting their development, but in truth, she was becoming a fan. She hated herself for it.
Nearly a year after she first heard them, she was back at
The Zon, at her usual station, head rocking slightly to the beat. She didn't hear the stranger approach. It took a tap on the shoulder to get her out
of her reverie.
"Excuse me, aren't you Daria Morgendorffer?" She asked.
She had an arty look to her.
Asymmetrical haircut, black tights, boots, the usual.
Daria looked up. "Yeah. Hi, don't we know each other from
school?"
"Well 'know' is a strong way of putting it. I'm Jane Lane, we have art together." She sat down in the stool next to Daria, and
indicated to the bartender that she'd like a soda.
"Okay, don't we recognize each other from school then?" Daria amended.
"I think I'm beginning to recognize you more from being a
permanent fixture at Spiral gigs. I
thought you had taste. At least judging
by your reviews."
"Yeah, but it's all in my mouth. I don't know why, but for some reason, I really like these
guys." Daria looked back to the stage,
and primarily at the lead singer.
"How come you've never written about them?" Jane asked, swilling her soda.
"Like I said, I like them.
It wouldn't be right to review them.
I mean, objectively, they are terrible." Daria averted her gaze in
shame.
Jane laughed. "Oh I
get it, you LIKE them. Yeah, they are
pretty. Which one is your
favorite?"
"Oh God." Daria buried her head in her hands. "Justin
Timberlake."
"Come on, you can tell me.
Who am I going to tell?" Jane
said reasonably.
Daria was having fun.
This girl was nice, and she seemed to be on the same wavelength. "Okay, but you have to take it to the grave,
this could ruin my reputation. The
singer. Trent Lane." Then she
realized. Oh, shit. Horror crossed her face.
Jane really laughed.
"Don't worry, there's a support group.
Your secret is safe with me.
Besides, although he's my brother, and I love him dearly, he's a real
flake. Once you got to know him, those
stars would disappear from your eyes."
"Yeah, practically everything is like that. Once you scratch the surface, there's a big
void."
"That's actually a great description of Trent. A void. Avoid.
But that doesn't mean that we can't be friends."
"True enough.
Besides, you know my darkest secret, I need to keep an eye on you, make
sure you don't spill the beans." Daria
ordered them each another soda.
"Yeah, that could get messy. So you going to Alternapalooza?"
"Sure, got my press pass and everything. You?"
"Yeah, we're going up in The Tank, we could use some extra
gas money, want to come with us?"
Daria considered it for a moment. She did know Jane from school.
She could get up close and personal with Trent; perhaps even get to know
him. She wouldn't have to cajole the
car keys from her folks. Besides, there
was something she liked about Jane, and she wanted to get to know her better. "Sure.
I've got money. Why not?"
"Okay, I've got to help the band pack up now. Hang out, we'll take you for eggs
after." She hoisted herself off the
stool. "This could be the start of a
beautiful friendship."
Daria smiled a bit at that, Jane knew Casablanca. Perhaps…
