Daria looked at herself in the mirror as she brushed her auburn hair. She really couldn't see much without her glasses. She could tell that her face was oval and that those two dark areas were her brown eyes. She really couldn't see the brown, but she knew her eye color from experience. She felt the brush strokes one by one. When she was done she put on her round wire-rimmed glasses and looked at herself. She decided that she was ready to go to Pizza King. She had pulled on a black t-shirt, her black leather skirt, and a pair of black sandals.
Walking over to her computer, she checked the weather forecast. The day had been hot, hazy, and humid. Now it was a very warm and humid early August evening. She had been right choosing sandals for tonight. Sandals were clearly the option rather than her preferred boots. Actually, it had been that way most of the summer.
Daria walked out of her room, past Quinn's room, and then down the stairs. She was lost in thought. It was always nice meeting Tom for pizza. She had agreed to talk to him occasionally after she broke up with him just before high school graduation. Tom was a good guy, but a long distance relationship was not something that she had wanted to take to college with her. She felt it was best for both of them to go off to college with no strings attached. Still, Tom actually called her every month to 6 weeks while they were in school. In the summer or on breaks they would get together a couple of times for pizza. Daria was always up for pizza with a friend. She wondered whether or not they would still be having pizza together next summer, after they both graduated from college.
Quinn was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. "You're not wearing that are you?" Daria's flame haired sister nearly shouted in her shrill voice.
Quinn's question shook Daria back to reality as she stepped off the bottom stair. She responded, "What are you talking about Quinn? It's all black. It matches. What's the problem?"
Quinn was a couple of inches (about 5 cm) taller than Daria and so was able to peer down at her sister with a condescending look. "Daria, if you are going on a date you need to have color in your outfit and for goodness sake wear some makeup. That outfit is just so dead!"
"Quinn, first of all this is not a date. I am going to meet Tom for pizza. We're friends. We haven't dated in over three years. Why does my outfit matter? It is not like I am trying to impress him. Besides, he doesn't care what I wear. This is comfortable."
Quinn gave her sister a look along the lines of 'you are the dumbest person I have ever seen.' Then she said, "Look, Daria, even if you aren't dating the guy you need to look good for him. Show him what he doesn't have. Make him aspire to having you!"
"Is that how you put the leash on Tyler?" Daria said.
Looking up and flicking her hair back Quinn responded, "He wouldn't have been attracted to me if I wasn't wearing something cute. Now he is like a puppy dog, but I still show him respect by dressing nicely for him. He loves to be seen with me. I am cuter than any of the other football players' girlfriends. You're not ugly, Daria. Now go back upstairs and at least put a colored top on and a little makeup. You will make Tom happy. Now get back up there missy!"
"Fine," Daria said. "If I do, then at least I don't have to hear you gripe about what I wore tonight for the next two days." She stomped back up the stairs to her room. Opening her closet she picked out another t-shirt and slipped that on. A quick trip to the bathroom provided the mirror. Some of Quinn's rouge was sitting out, so Daria highlighted her cheeks. She also borrowed some lip gloss that was sitting there. Then she went back downstairs. At the bottom of the stairs Daria turned in a complete circle in front of Quinn and asked, "How is this?"
"Well," Quinn responded, "At least that is newer and looks better. Even though it is still t-shirt material it looks more like a top. I still don't know that orange is the best choice with your hair color, but the top is at least acceptable. The rouge and lip gloss work. All in all I pronounce you at least minimally acceptable."
In total deadpan Daria said to her sister, "Thank you so much Quinn. Now I need to get going. I am walking over to Pizza King after all."
Quinn remarked, "OK, but don't work up a sweat. You don't want to be showing stains when you get there."
Again in total deadpan Daria commented, "I don't sweat that much Quinn. It will be fine. Besides, this is Tom and it is not a date."
"Whatever you say, Daria," Quinn responded. With an air of authority she added, "Just remember: women glow, men perspire, and pigs sweat. Make sure you don't go beyond a glow!"
With a distinct sound of annoyance in her voice Daria responded, "Yes ma'am. No healthy glow staining my t-shirt under the arms. Got it. See you."
Just as she was about to open the door and leave Daria heard her mother say, "Oh Daria! Daria! Don't leave just yet. I want to talk to you."
With her hand on the doorknob Daria let out an exasperated sigh, released the knob, and turned around. "What is it Mom?" She asked. Daria could detect a little slurring in her mother's speech. This meant that she had not escaped before her mother had downed a couple of drinks for 'happy hour.'
"Come over here and sit down," her mother said.
Daria walked over and sat down on the couch facing the TV. Her mother was sitting on the couch to her right.
Helen Morgendorffer had an open bottle of wine sitting in front of her and a nearly empty glass. The bottle was three quarters empty. Helen was above average height and still trim with curves in all the right places and a round face. Her light brown hair was just starting to show some gray. She was glad that she had at least made it over 50 before showing any gray. Now she was torn over whether to dye that wisp of gray to make her look younger or leave it to make her look more distinguished and wiser. "I wanted to ask you about how you were feeling. You seem a little more down lately than usual. Is anything wrong? Is the job OK at the library? Is there anything you want to tell me?"
Looking directly into her mother's brown eyes Daria responded, "Really Mom I am fine. Maybe just a little tired. Everything is fine at the library. It is a great summer job. Very few people bother me, except Kristen my boss. She is just always coming up with things for me to do. Of course, that is her job."
"OK, but I was concerned that maybe you were a little sad because Quinn had Tyler and you don't have anyone right now."
Daria rubbed her forehead. "Why should now be any different than the rest of the time I have spent in college? I'm concentrating on my studies so that I have a chance at getting employment when I graduate from Raft – and I don't mean employment asking 'Do you want fries with that!' No, I want to write professionally. I don't need a boyfriend. A boyfriend would just be a distraction." Daria saw her mother toss back the remaining wine in her glass. Then she reached over, grabbed the bottle and refilled her glass emptying the bottle. Daria momentarily wondered about the whereabouts of her father.
"Your devotion to your studies is admirable, but I am concerned that if you don't meet someone in college then you will be all alone."
"Two things, Mom. First, I don't mind being alone. I have always preferred that. You know that I prefer books to people. Second, my generation is different. We are waiting longer for serious relationships. So don't worry."
In her voice of dead earnest Helen said, "I always worry about you, Daria. You are my special child. You're brilliant and yet so alone in this world. I don't want to see you unhappy."
In complete deadpan Daria responded, "If nothing else I will find happiness in my work and a dozen or so cats in a small apartment." She couldn't help herself but to yank her mother's chain a little bit.
Helen continued in her serious tone, "Don't be so sarcastic Daria. You really need to think about what will make you happy. You are about to have a major transition in your life."
"Alright Mom I will think about it. I promise. Now you will have to excuse me. There is a pizza with my name on it waiting for me."
"Are you meeting Jane?" Helen asked.
"No," Daria replied. With that she got up and headed out the door. She wanted to get out before her mother came up with any more questions. Daria started walking toward Pizza King.
…..
While Daria was verbally sparring with Quinn, Tom was standing in front of the mirror at the Sloanes' home giving himself a final check. Kay walked up behind him.
"Now that's a good looking young man if I have ever seen one," Kay remarked as she too looked at Tom in the mirror. She thought that his sandy hair, gray eyes, and angled face made him truly handsome. Of course as his mother she might be a bit prejudiced. "I am guessing the way you are fussing about yourself and actually paying attention to what you wear that you are meeting Daria."
"That's right," Tom replied.
Kay turned and actually looked at Tom. "I just don't understand what you see in that girl. She goes to college in a different city. She is even kind of anti-social. I guess she is OK looking, but seems to have no sense of style. She doesn't even wear contacts for goodness sake! Surely there are better girls at Bromwell to catch and hold your interest. Besides, she broke up with you at the end of high school. Daria broke your heart. I saw that when you walked in the door that night. I wouldn't give her a second chance."
"Mom, it is just pizza. Daria broke up with me because we were going off to college in different cities. It hurt both of us, but it was a very rational decision. Long distance relationships are tough and we were both headed for new experiences and new people. I have to admit that she made the right decision, but sometimes the right decision hurts too. Daria and I are friends because we are each other's intellectual equals. Daria is very smart and witty. We have different talents, but it is always interesting to talk to each other."
"I don't know if I would call snark and sarcasm wit, but that is up to you Tom. I still think you could find a pretty and intelligent girl at Bromwell – not to mention one that could be more of an asset in your career. You haven't talked about any girls you have met there even when I have asked directly. Now you only have a year left. What will you do if you don't meet a girl at school?"
"Leave that to me, OK? I can always join one of those dating websites. They'd match me up with someone based on compatibility criteria. Just because you and Dad met at Bromwell doesn't mean that I will meet 'the one' there."
"I don't understand your generation, Tom. And I don't think I understand you. Take it from your mother. You need to meet someone to be your partner through life. The best place to do that is in college where you will have shared memories of youth and fun, but you will also be of the same intelligence level and social class. Daria fits one but not the other. Remember that."
"I'll remember," Tom said. His thoughts, however, turned more to an angry, 'That is one of the most elitist things I have ever heard come out of your mouth. No wonder I'm not looking for a girl like you.'
Kay turned walked off toward her study.
Tom turned back toward the mirror. His thoughts turned to pizza and Daria and the hopes and plans he had for the evening. The knot in his stomach did not bode well for the pizza, though. Anyway, Tom grabbed the car keys and headed out.