Fall. School starting. Leaves falling. The crash of bodies on the football field. The ritual enacted yearly across the country. Coaches bark orders, and the troops form up in precise patterns. The whistle blows, and young men hurl themselves at each other. The jolt of contact, the sound of the hit, the graceful arc the ball describes as it sails to the waiting arms of an open receiver. All of these and more are what football is about. It's a game, but it's more than that, and less. In school, the jocks are the aristocracy, and the football players are royal blood. The quarterback is king, and the power and adulation are addictive. Eventually, though, the addict must face withdrawal when the cheers stop…
Chapter 1: Illegal Contact
Daria Morgendorffer hurried across the quad, her arms for once empty of books. Her customary green jacket was still in place, but underneath it was a heavy beige sweater. It was the last week in November and the Midwest was already sinking into winter cold, with a light dusting of snow still covering the ground from two days ago. Her first semester at Notre Dame had flown by, and now she was confronted with the looming specter of finals. She'd allowed herself the luxury of ignoring them until after Thanksgiving. Well, that excuse is gone, so I'd better put the boot in if I want to do well.
Thanksgiving had been Daria's first trip home, and much as it pained her to admit it, she'd had a really nice time. For the first time she could remember, seeing her family had been a pleasure and not a chore. She'd even managed to have a heart-to-heart with Quinn, and Quinn had surprised and pleased her big sister by continuing the academic improvement and broadening horizons that had characterized her junior year.
Daria had also missed her friends. She'd never expected to feel that way: before Lawndale, she'd never been close enough to anyone to feel the pain of separation. True, after Highland she would occasionally wonder about Beavis and Butthead—had McVicker or Anderson finally snapped and killed them or had they managed to do it themselves though their usual combination of stupidity and recklessness? It was interest of a sort, but it wasn't anything like her pleasure at seeing Jodie and Mack, who were both doing well at their respective schools in New Jersey—he at Rutgers, she at Princeton—much less the intense joy she'd felt at seeing Jane.
The partners in crime had kept in touch via e-mail and telephone, but such distant connections couldn't compare to actually being together after three months. Being around Jane again had been wonderful, as had been seeing Jodie and Mack. Even her visit with Brittany had been a joy. Daria was planning to cling to that happiness through the haze of finals and papers over the next month.
"Daria, wait!" A familiar, unwelcome voice broke her reverie, and Kevin Thompson hurried along to catch up with her. There's a face I didn't miss seeing back in Lawndale, she thought.
She had thoroughly researched Notre Dame's superior academic facilities, but she'd somehow ignored, or overlooked, its other major claim to fame, its status as a football factory. Finding out that Kevin was once again a fellow classmate had been a horrible shock, even worse than learning that South Bend, Indiana, was duller than Lawndale. Fortunately, he'd mostly avoided her, being consumed with all things football and few things scholastic. She'd been relieved to hear from Brittany that he hadn't even come home for Thanksgiving. But now I'm paying the piper for my good luck.
"Daria's not home. Leave your name and number at the beep and she'll get back to you three days after Armageddon." She hurried on without turning, hoping he would stop to puzzle out her statement so she could make her escape.
Kevin chuckled halfheartedly. "Uh, yeah. That's funny, Daria." With his long legs, he paced her easily. "I need to talk to you."
She spared him a tired glance. "Just because you play for the Irish doesn't mean they'll kick you off the team for being American. I thought we discussed this." At least he's not still wearing his uniform or carrying a football wherever he goes.
Kevin was instead wearing jeans and a heavy sweatshirt with the Fighting Irish logo. He gave Daria a relieved nod. "Yeah. The coaches told me it was okay, too."
"Then why do you want to talk to me? It's not like we have any more in common than we did in Lawndale." They were approaching the dining hall. She hoped he'd take the hint and go away without ruining her lunch.
No such luck. "Daria," Kevin said a small, frightened voice, a voice she hadn't heard since Tommy Sherman died, "I uh, I need your help."
She stopped in the middle of reaching for the door handle and turned to stare at him in open-mouthed shock. Before she could collect herself, her sarcasm gland took over. "What could the great Kevin Thompson possibly need from plain little Daria Morgendorffer?"
Before Kevin could reply, the door behind Daria swung open, knocking her forward into him. He caught her out of pure reflex, holding her for a heartbeat while she got her balance. He let her go just before she could pull away, noting with surprise how light she was.
He gave her the smile that had melted so many hearts at Lawndale High. "How about I take you to lunch, and I'll tell you about it?"
If he'd hoped to put her at ease, her challenging glare let him know that he'd failed. "I'll have you know that I am meeting people for lunch," she said, "but since you're here anyway, and offering to pay, you can join us." As she turned from him, she muttered, "At least it gets me out of the damn doorway."
He followed her through the door and into the main hall, which contained the cafeteria counter. Joining the line of students, they each took an oversized tray and placed it on the counter in front of them. Moving with the line, they reached the spot where surly work-study kids dispensed materials that were only vaguely identifiable as food.
Daria was economical in her choices, getting a garden salad that was for once more green than brown, and a grilled cheese sandwich that had at least been toasted on one side. Kevin, on the other hand, got a huge helping a drippy brown substance that in a happier life would have been beef and a bowl of what looked for all the world like microwave lasagna. Seeing his second choice, Daria gave a Mona Lisa smile. "Better than Lawndale High or my mom's cooking," he said and shrugged.
As they reached the cashier—another bored student—Daria gave Kevin an expectant look. He reached into his pocket, and a look of alarm filled his face. After frantically patting himself down, he gave Daria an apologetic look. "I, uh, don't have my meal card." Sighing, she reached into her pocket and handed hers over. "You're not getting off to a good start here, Thompson," she growled as she took her card back.
Kevin followed Daria across the floor to one of the smaller rooms that adjoined the main dining area. Though it was cramped, with two columns of long tables covering nearly every inch of floor space, the room's wall-length windows allowed in enough sun to make it seem more spacious, and it was lit well enough for reading even when the sun wasn't out, which is why Daria and her friends liked it. Those friends hadn't arrived yet, so Daria took a seat at her accustomed table in the corner. Kevin joined her and for a while, they ate in silence.
"You have atrocious table manners," Daria said as she picked at her salad. "Were you raised by wolves?" Kevin was shoveling himself full, ignoring both the need to chew and the streams of gravy tracking down his chin. Looking up, he gave her another apologetic look. "We ate mostly burgers and things growing up. My mom isn't much of a cook, and my dad only likes to barbecue."
"Never mind," she said, placing her napkin over the crusts of the sandwich. "Since my friends are obviously not showing," she allowed herself evil thoughts about the perfidy of supposedly trustworthy people, "we can get this over with. What do you need my help with?"
"Well, I uh…." He rubbed his neck, food forgotten. "I'm a little worried about, uh, why I'm here."
Daria sighed. "I can't help you with football, Kevin."
"No way. Football's fine," Kevin said quickly. "After all, I'm the QB!" He gave her a vacant smile.
Daria rolled her eyes and glanced upward. "I hope you're not looking to discuss philosophy with me, then. Because I don't think I could take that."
"Uh, yeah. Whatever, Daria." He paused, uncomfortable under her steady gaze. "Look, it's about my schoolwork."
Daria blinked, but before she could reply, Kevin said, "Look, I've got all these classes, and I really don't understand any of this stuff. Coach says not to worry, but no one tells me what I'm supposed to do. It's not like it was at Lawndale. I never had to worry."
"Uh huh," Daria said, nonplussed. "And what does this have to do with me?"
"Well, some of the guys told me that coach can't help with the grades, like they did back in Lawndale, but…" He trailed off.
"But what? Say it, Kevin."
"Well, they told me that the coaches won't fix things for you, but they won't look too hard if you can get someone else to do the work."
"I see," Daria said, keeping her voice level. "And what made you think of me? I was never the most charitable person back in Lawndale."
"Well, you're the smartest person I know. And you probably have a lot of free time, what with not being involved with the team." Her expression darkened. "And you probably don't have to spend lots of time on schoolwork, because you're so smart," he added lamely.
"Let me see if I get this straight, Kevin. You're attending one of the top schools in the country, despite the fact that you can't count to twenty even with your shoes off, and you're falling behind, because the only thing you learned at Lawndale was how to spit milk through your nose. The professors aren't corrupt enough to keep passing you along on football skills, but they're hypocritical enough to look the other way if you can find some patsy to do all your work for you on top of an already heavy courseload. And the lucky person you've selected to help you perpetuate the whole sordid system is me."
"Well, yeah. I think." Kevin shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not actually sure what you said."
"Pardon me for confusing you." Daria let anger touch her voice. "I'll put my answer in simple terms so you understand me. No."
"Huh?"
"No, I will not do your work for you, Kevin. It's all I can do to keep up in my own classes. There's no way I'm taking yours, too."
Kevin gave her a shocked look. "But you have to…"
"Why do I have to? Explain this to me, Kevin." This ought to be good.
"Well, uh, it's that thing, where you help people from your old school. Solidity."
"Solidarity?"
"Yeah, that. And it'll help the team. And, uh," Kevin, running out of ideas, started babbling. "And we're old friends, and friends help each other, right? I mean, I've done a lot for you—"
"You've done a lot for me?" Daria's voice rose in shock. "Like what? Ignoring and belittling me for three years in Lawndale, and then, when I finally think I'm free of you at one of the best schools in the country, there you are with your idiot grin and your idiot football, getting the same free ride you always have! And when your gravy train's in danger, you buy me lunch that I have to pay for and expect me to fall all over myself to bail you out! Are you out of your mind!?"
"But Daria, I, uh…" Kevin tried to go on, but Daria's cold, unflinching glare bored into him. He was never comfortable with her even at the best of times, but the rage he saw reflected in her eyes now froze him to the core.
Daria let him wilt under her glare for a long moment before saying, "I think you'd better go now, Kevin. I think it would be better for both of us." Her voice was frightening, utterly emotionless.
"Daria, I…"
"Just go, Kevin."
He fled as quickly as his ego would allow him, not even noticing the pretty red-haired girl he passed in the doorway. Daria, meanwhile, buried her head in her hands, letting the anger drain out of her. "I don't believe this," she said into the table, not noticing the red-haired girl setting a tray down and taking a seat next to her.
"So, what's the matter?" The redhead gave Daria a friendly smile. "You look like you've been kicked in the head. Well, more than usual."
Daria's head jerked up, but she ignored her friend's remarks. "Where were you, Colleen? You were supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago."
Colleen shrugged, red hair bouncing. "I got cornered by my advisor. Geena and Jerry asked me to give you their apologies. They're stuck in chem lab and likely will be all day. The experiment went kablooey, and the prof wants them to stay and get it back on track." She looked down at her tray, prodding the contents suspiciously. "So. What's the deal?
Daria sighed. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Suit yourself," Colleen said, swallowing a forkful of something and grimacing. "But I'm here to listen if you want. Beats eating this stuff." She spared her plate another suspicious glance before adding, "Was that Kevin Thompson I passed on the way out? The jocks don't usually use this cafeteria, not even the scout-teamers."
At the mention of Kevin's name, Daria had half-risen, but at her friend's words, she stopped. "Did you say scout team? I thought Kevin was the starter."
Colleen laughed. "I keep forgetting how little you know about sports. Freshmen never start at quarterback. This is Notre Dame, not some podunk junior college. There's way too much money depending on the football team to trust it to a freshman."
Daria sank back into her seat, looking thoughtful. "So, Kevin's not the QB."
"Since when do you care about Kevin Thompson?" Colleen asked. "You're the one who didn't know Notre Dame had a football team."
The silence hung for a minute, before Daria spoke. "We went to the same high school. It's a long story if you've got the time…."
Chapter 2: Roughing the Passer
The next two weeks were not pleasant for Daria. Kevin seemed to be lurking behind every tree, begging her to help. It had bothered her that he managed to make her lose her cool so quickly, so she resolved after her first outburst to remain polite. Kevin's constant onslaught, however, was playing on nerves already frayed by the pressure of papers and finals, so a blowup was inevitable. The amazing thing, Daria later told Colleen, was that she lasted as long as she did.
Kevin had found her in the library, where she was finishing the last of her research on her history paper. She'd just re-shelved a dull tome on trade patterns in Yorkist England—sparing a muttered "Feh" for London merchant concerns and the Hanseatic Freakin' League—when she turned to find Kevin looming over her. He did not, however, get very far into his plea this time.
"I am not doing your work for you, Kevin. I am not doing anything for you. Why the fuck can't you get that through your thick skull and leave me the hell alone?!" Daria barely noticed that she was shrieking by the time she finished.
Kevin noticed, though, if his shocked expression was any indication. "Uh, Daria? This is a library, right? Aren't we supposed to be quiet in here?"
About to launch into another full-throated tirade, Daria noted the hostile looks of other students, and kept her voice down. "How the fuck would you know? You've never been in one."
"That's not fair, Daria. I—"
"Make-out time with Brittany doesn't count. Look," she continued, "I've tried to be polite. I've tried to be subtle. Now I'm telling you to stay the hell away from me."
Kevin's shoulders sagged. "If that's the way you want it…"
Daria sighed, anger draining from her. He was too damn pathetic to hate. "What do you need with me anyway? There have to be loads of people who'd be better suited to help you than I am. After all, you're a football star, and football stars don't interact with people like me."
"We did in Lawndale." Kevin gave her a faintly accusing look.
"Lawndale was a tiny school, Kevin. We had to associate. Besides," she added with faint malice, "it's not like we were the best of friends or anything."
"We talked."
"You'd say something stupid, and Jane and I would insult you, but you'd never get it. This hardly counts as close bonding."
"Yeah, but…" Kevin looked away, and Daria was surprised at the pain in his voice. "At least you know me. And you can help me. No one else will."
Daria blinked. "No one?"
Kevin nodded miserably. "I'm fourth string, Daria. No one cares about some stupid freshman who's the backup on the scout team. I wish I'd never come to this crappy place." He kicked at the shelves in frustration, eliciting a solid thunk and more glares from nearby students.
"Um, Kevin? Maybe we should go someplace else and talk."
"Okay. But where?"
"How about the dining hall." She gave him a Mona Lisa smile. "You still owe me lunch, remember?"
He laughed. "Uh, yeah. I guess I do."
Fifteen minutes later found them in the very spot they'd occupied for their first conversation. Kevin had remembered his meal card and the purchase of an ominously cloudy chicken noodle soup for Daria and an altogether unpleasant Sloppy Joe for Kevin had gone off without a hitch. They ate in silence for a while, Daria waiting for Kevin to work up the nerve to speak. She ignored his table manners, which had not noticeably improved.
"I know I'm not the brightest guy on the planet," Kevin started, and Daria clamped her mouth tightly shut, "but I'm not as dumb as everyone thinks."
Of course not, Daria didn't say. How could you be and still be breathing?
Kevin sighed. "You might as well just say it, Daria."
She gave a guilty start. "I wasn't going to say anything."
"Not to my face, anyway."
Daria felt shamed into speaking. "If you must know, I was thinking that it would be impossible for anyone to be as stupid as everyone thinks you are."
Kevin, surprisingly, laughed. "That's a good one, Daria." After a moment's pause, he continued. "I didn't mean to end up stupid, but no one ever encouraged me to be anything else. My Dad only cares about me making the NFL. If he had his way, I wouldn't even know how to read, 'cos it would take too much time from football. My mom wants me to do well, but Dad had her convinced that my only way to college was throwing a football." He sighed. "He's probably right, too."
"And none of your teachers did anything to help you." It wasn't a question.
"Well, in elementary school, they had some remedial classes for me, so I kept up, but then I hit junior high and school sports. The coach had seen me in Pop Warner, and he made me the starter without even trying me out. All of a sudden, I didn't have time for extra help, so my grades dropped. But everyone saw the next Tommy Sherman, so no one worried. Especially not me. Same thing happened in High School. I was the starter from Day One. Not even Tommy could say that. And we did win the state championship again, so everyone got what they wanted."
Daria listened intently, hearing what Kevin didn't say. "And now you're here and you're lost."
Kevin nodded. "Yeah. The coaches keep telling me everything is going to be fine, but I'm behind three other guys, and one's a sophomore, so I might not get to play until I'm a senior. That's if I can hold off the new guys coming in. And if I can't win a college job, how am I gonna make the pros?"
"And if you don't…"
"It's hanging drywall with my dad, or some other loser job. I won't get a degree the way I'm going, but maybe I'll get to sell cars or insurance or some other shit. Unless…"
"You pull it together?"
"I pull it together," Kevin nodded. "I thought about what you said, Daria. Even if I got you to do my work and you managed to get me a diploma, I still wouldn't have shit. All I'm good for right now is football. I want to be good for something else by the time I get out of here."
"So you want me to tutor you."
"Yes, I want you to tutor me. Look, I know I'm in over my head, but if I try, I think I can at least pull off a C-minus. And I'll know something besides how to check off to my hot read on a corner blitz."
Daria sighed. "Much as I badly want to laugh in your face, that inconvenient conscience I keep forgetting I have is nagging me to help you."
"So you'll do it?" Kevin tried to keep the hope out of his voice.
Daria nodded gravely, "I'll do it on one condition. You have teach me about football." She gave him another Mona Lisa smile. "I don't want to be the only miracle worker around here."
It took Kevin a moment before he started to laugh.
"…so that's it," Daria said mournfully. "I'm bonding with Quinn, and now I'm going to tutor Kevin Thompson. Are you sure you didn't hit me in the head while I was asleep?"
Colleen laughed. "How would I get in? The blunt head trauma theory is a good one though. Maybe you got a concussion and don't remember it."
It was finals week, and the two girls were sitting across from each other, one on each bed, in Daria's room. Colleen had originally expressed some reservation about using someone else's bed in such a fashion without permission, but Daria had reassured her. In Daria's opinion, her was entirely theoretical. The bed was sometimes unmade, and Daria would occasionally see a female figure asleep there or be woken by the sounds of another person in the room, which led her to deduce that she in fact did have a roommate. If the two girls had exchanged five words the whole semester, though, Daria would've had to be reminded of three of them. She didn't feel the lack, though; Colleen ably filled the role of friend and confidant that some other people swore their roommates did.
"You could knock me unconscious now," Daria said, "and get me out of this."
"I might," Colleen replied, "if you can explain to me why you agreed to do it in the first place."
Daria shrugged. "I don't know. Partly shock, I suppose. Hearing Kevin express interest in schoolwork is a unique experience. We're talking about someone who wrote his senior English paper on Ratboy comics."
"You've told me the stories." Colleen leaned back. "I just don't believe them."
"They're all true. You can ask him when he gets here if you want."
"He won't deny them?"
"This is Kevin," Daria chuckled. "He might not remember them, but he won't deny them. Apparently being the QB made him immune to embarrassment."
Just then, a shrill beep came from the wall intercom, and Daria stood. "That's probably him. Do you want to stay for the carnage?"
Colleen smiled as she stood. "Nah, I'll allow you your privacy—if only to be able to say that Daria Morgendorffer had a football player alone in her room all day."
Daria gave her friend a steely glare. "This is a big campus, you know, Colleen. It'll probably take them weeks to find your body."
Colleen laughed as they headed out the door. They chatted as they walked down two flights of stairs and came out into the main lobby. Kevin was standing at the security desk, three-ring binder under one arm, looking uncomfortable. As he noticed the two girls, his face lit up. "Hey," he said, "introduce me to your hot friend, Daria."
Daria rolled her eyes, "Kevin, this is Colleen O'Leary, a gifted and accomplished student. Colleen, this is Kevin Thompson, who isn't."
Colleen offered her hand. "Daria's told me a lot about you, Kevin."
Kevin stared blankly at the proffered hand for a moment before taking it. "She has? I mean, uh, of course she has. I'm the QB."
"Of course," Colleen gave Kevin a winsome smile, even as she pulled her hand back. "I have to go, but maybe we can get together sometime. I'd love to hear your stories about life at Lawndale."
Kevin beamed at this, while Daria gave her friend a quizzical look, which Colleen met with sparkling eyes. "Looks like you were right, Daria. Have fun studying."
Sighing, Daria led Kevin back upstairs, once again wondering what had possessed her to take on this impossible task.
"So, Daria," Kevin said, compounding her misgivings, "I never would have thought that you'd be friends with someone that hot."
Daria nearly closed the door in his face. "Didn't you say the same thing about Quinn, when you found out she was my sister?"
"Oh yeah." Kevin followed her in. "Cool room, Daria."
The room in question was just a normal dorm room, with twin beds on opposite sides of the room and two desks next to each other on one wall. Doors for closets and a bathroom were visible, while two bookshelves and her Kafka poster were the sole indications that Daria was a resident.
Kevin, without asking, took a seat on the same bed Colleen had occupied before. Daria let him get comfortable before asking, "Did you bring the syllabus for each of your courses like I asked you?" He looked at her blankly.
"The lists of books and assignments that your professors gave you on the first day of class?"
"Oh, yeah." Kevin retrieved several rumpled sheets from within the binder and handed them to Daria, who grabbed a pen from the desk and sat down. Looking over each in turn, she made little 'hmm' noises to herself and marked the pages every so often. After a few minutes, she finished. "Okay, here's what we're going to do."
Kevin, who'd been smiling as he watched Daria review the pages, nodded.
"In two of your classes, the main component of the grade is the paper, so you need to ask for incompletes. If you'd like, I'll go with you for those, since my classes don't conflict with the office hours of either professor. The writing class you've either passed or failed already, and there's nothing we can do about it." Daria sounded very businesslike as she laid out her plans, and Kevin didn't interrupt. "The last two classes are fairly simple. You just need to do well on the final to pass, so we'll concentrate on those classes for now, and worry about the others over winter break."
At this, Kevin's face fell. "I've gotta do schoolwork over winter break?"
"If you want to come back for next semester, you do." Daria said flatly. "There's no way you can get up to speed in all four classes in ten days."
Kevin nodded. "I know. It's just…"
Daria cut him off. "I'm sorry, Kevin, but if you're serious, that's the way it's going to be. You're going to spend the break working. There's no way around it."
No one spoke for a long moment, though Daria swore she could here Kevin muttering "drywall" and "used cars" under his breath. Finally, Kevin grabbed a book. "Let's do this thing," he said in a firm voice. His eyes, though, reflected stark terror.
Daria expression was neutral as always, but she had to admit that she was more than a little nervous herself as she gently removed the telephone book from Kevin's hands and replaced it with his Modern History textbook. "All right. Modern History. Professor Murchison's a veteran, so we'll concentrate on Vietnam for now…"
The middle of finals week found an exhausted Daria at her usual table in the dining hall, face down over what might have been a bowl of soup. A cheerful voice said, "Hey, stranger! Haven't seen you in a while." Daria looked up to see Colleen's freckled face take on a worried expression.
"Finals," Daria grunted. "You know how it is."
"Oh yeah." Colleen gave her plate a brief glare. "Is it me, or is the food getting worse? It shouldn't be possible."
Daria smiled briefly, using her spoon to stir the sewage-colored liquid in her bowl. "I wouldn't know. I never actually eat it."
"No time, right? What with your extra credit project and all." Colleen's mouth quirked up.
"I'd hardly count Kevin as extra credit, except maybe on my karma."
"Bad?"
"You have no idea." Daria put her head in her hands. "It's absolutely amazing what that boy doesn't know. I asked him what he knew about the Cuban Missile Crisis, and he asked what team the Cuban Missile played for and if drugs were involved."
Colleen chuckled, and Daria continued. "But I've successfully taught him to construct complete English sentences, so he stands a chance of passing, if he can remember anything else we went over. Of course, I'm not holding my breath, since it took me an hour to explain to him that Vietnam is in Asia."
"Let me guess…" Colleen was rapidly dissolving into giggles. "It took the first half-hour to explain where Asia was."
"Bingo." Daria frowned at her friend's mirth. Her frown deepened when a familiar voice sounded behind her. "Daria! There you are!" She turned to see Kevin standing over her, holding a plain white box.
"Here I are," Daria said, still frowning. "Aren't we done for the semester? Your last final was today."
Kevin nodded. "And both my incompletes were accepted. So I'm all set. Here." He handed Daria the box.
She took it with some misgivings. "Uh… thanks. What is it?"
"My end of the bargain." Kevin smiled. "I don't really have time to teach you about football, but you're a brain, so I figured you could just read up on it." He gave Colleen a, "Hey, babe," which Colleen was unwilling or unable to answer, preoccupied as she was with shoving her fist into her mouth.
Daria opened the box with some misgivings. She lifted out a pair of books and a glossy, shrink-wrapped box. "Hmmm… A biography of Vince Lombardi, a copy of Football Made Easy, and Madden 2000 for the PC." Nonplussed, she looked at Kevin. "Kevin, I have a Mac. You've seen it."
This was too much for Colleen, who dissolved into shrieks of laughter. Daria glared at her friend, disgust written on her face.
"Uh, Daria…" Kevin looked uncomfortably at Colleen, whose laughter had diminished in sound, but not in force. "I'm sorry. You don't like them, do you?"
Daria sighed. "No. They're fine, Kevin. Thank you. Now remember to read the books on the list I gave you, and I'll see you in Lawndale after Christmas."
"Right. I won't forget. I'll call when I'm ready. And I better get packed. My dad's driving out to pick me up, and he'll be here tomorrow." Kevin turned to go with a wave. "See you in Lawndale, Daria. Later, babe," he added for Colleen's benefit.
With the source of her humor attack gone, Colleen was able to get herself under control fairly quickly. Smothering a last burst of giggles, she looked over to the door through which Kevin had departed and then back to Daria. "He's not all there, is he?"
"He's not there at all, Colleen." What am I going to do with a computer football game that doesn't work on my computer?"
"Level your desk?" Colleen gave Daria a considering look. "That was really very nice of him, though, to give you a Christmas gift. He really seems to like you."
"Oh, please," Daria snorted. "Kevin Thompson never liked anyone who wasn't on the football team or the cheerleading squad. The only time he bothers with those of us outside his rarefied circle is when he needs something. Like now."
Colleen shrugged. "You'd know better than I would." She quickly changed the subject, and the two friends chatted amiably until Daria left for the library. She had her own finals to worry about.
Chapter 3: Neutral Zone Infraction
"You're what?" Jane Lane gasped out her question before dissolving into shocked laughter.
Daria gave her friend a flat look. "Thank you, Jane. It's nice to know I can still count on my close friends to be supportive."
Daria had been back in Lawndale for nearly a week before she managed to find some time to spend with Jane. After a torturous trip home on the 22nd, Daria felt she needed to be well rested before bracing the Barksdale family nightmare on Christmas Day. The visit with Grandma Ruth went no better.
So far, her day with Jane wasn't off to a flying start either. Pizza King was fairly empty, what with Lawndale High off for the week. Jane's laughter actually seemed to echo in the empty pizzeria, and Daria was beginning to get annoyed.
"Jane, is this some strange new definition of the word sympathy that I've never heard before?"
The subtle changes in Daria's voice weren't easy to spot, but Jane had years of experience. She could easily tell that Daria's irritation was verging on real anger. With a major of effort, she got herself under control and regarded Daria with a serious expression. "One question, Daria. Why?"
"That's the thing, Jane. I'm not exactly sure." Daria sighed. "I mean, it's Kevin; if there's anyone who deserves to twist in the wind more, I can't think of them. But whenever I see that earnest, goofy face, I give in. Letting him down would be like kicking a puppy."
"How cute," Jane gushed. "You've got a crush on Kevin."
"I will kill you, Jane, and be out of town before they find the body."
"But what will Tom think?"
"Don't go there." Daria's voice was cold and flat.
"I thought you were over that."
"Doesn't mean I want it brought up again."
Jane raised a warding hand. "Sorry. I didn't realize it would still bother you."
Daria sighed, "It's just not the way I wanted my first relationship to end."
"Think how I felt," Jane said, and Daria's face contorted with horror. Before she could apologize, Jane forestalled her with a raised hand. "It's long in the past. I just don't know why you both thought a long distance relationship would work, with him at Yale and you at Notre Dame."
Daria's gave her friend a pensive look. "I don't know. I think I felt like we should break up, but I let him talk me into staying together. And then the week before I'm supposed to fly out to see him, I get an email telling me not to come."
"Hey," Jane said, "Could have been worse. You could have flown out there and found him with another girl."
"So I should be grateful to him for sparing me a weekend of teen drama hell?" Daria's voice held a trace of anger, but it quickly drained. "I suppose I should. At least I was able to change the ticket to Lawndale for Thanksgiving. Only cost me $75 more, instead of the price of the whole ticket."
Jane smiled. "That's the Morgendorffer mercenary streak we all know and love." After a bite of pizza, she added, "So tell me more about the Kevin thing. Has he said anything stupid?"
Daria's look spoke volumes.
"Okay," Jane laughed. "What stupid things has he said?"
"Jane," Daria sighed, "I don't even know where to begin."
Between them, they put away a pie. After a couple of examples of Kevin's…Kevinness, Daria changed the subject. She and Jane swapped stories about college life and were pleased to see that time and distance hadn't yet dulled their bond. For most of the afternoon, Daria was able to forget the Sisyphean task she'd set herself, until they were ready to go, when Jane asked, "So when do you see him again?"
With a sigh, Daria heaved herself out of the booth. "Tomorrow," she said. "And I don't think it's going to get any easier. Pray for me, Jane."
Jane grinned. "Can I start calling you Daria Dolittle?" She ducked the breadstick Daria tossed at her and headed out the door. "Need a ride?" she asked over her shoulder.
"It's not too cold, so I'll walk."
"See you in a couple of days, then," Jane said and was gone. Daria pondered the Pizza King for a moment more, thinking how much time had passed since she'd first come here with Jane. Shaking her head to dismiss the reverie, she headed home.
The next day, Daria faced the Thompsons' door with some trepidation. It took her a full two minutes to ring the doorbell, and even then she was ready to flee. What am I getting myself into? She hadn't even wanted to meet Tom's family, and she'd dated him. Yet here she was, frozen, as the door swung open and a balding, chunky man in a track suit regarded her blearily.
"Uh," Daria said, voice cracking slightly. "I'm Daria Morgendorffer. I'm here to tutor Kevin."
"Kevin?" He was a big man and his thinning hair was still brown, but he'd clearly run to fat and his face was florid. "Prob'ly in his room." He ambled off unsteadily, leaving a confused Daria in the doorway.
Before she could move, a woman hurried up to the door. Her track suit matched the man's and her brown hair was up in a ponytail. "Hello. You must be Daria. I'm Kevin's mother."
Still confused, Daria managed, "Um…hello, Mrs. Thompson."
"Please, call me Charlene." She smiled uncertainly. "I'm sorry about my husband. He's—" she trailed off for a moment, "on some pretty strong medication. " Or drunk off his ass at 5 in the afternoon , Daria thought but didn't say.
Before Mrs. Thompson could yell for him, Kevin appeared at the top of the stairs. "Hey, Daria," he said. He wore a faded Ravens jersey over jeans, and a Lawndale Lions baseball cap. "Come on up."
"We're working in your bedroom?" For some reason, the thought of entering his room unsettled her.
"Yeah," Kevin nodded. "I've got plenty of space up here, and well," he paused, awkwardly, "we don't want to get in Mom and Dad's way."
"Sure thing, Kevin." Daria hefted her knapsack and made her way up the stairs. She noticed he made no offer to help, even though she was clearly struggling with the weight.
The top floor of the house had been given over as a shrine to Kevin. An enormous case, filled with Kevin's trophies, covered one wall, and a huge entertainment center with television, stereo, and DVD player covered another. The rest of the walls were covered with posters and newspapers. Some of were Kevin, and some looked like professional football players, doubtless Kevin's favorites. The bed and several dressers sat below the posters, and the middle of the space was dominated by a large table with what looked like a green felt top.
Kevin watched Daria take it all in. "What do you think?" he asked artlessly.
"It," Daria groped for something, anything, to say, "well, it's definitely something." It's like being on another planet. Is there even a single book in this room?
Kevin smiled hugely. "Thanks, Daria. You can set up on the table."
As Daria began setting her books on the table, she noticed there was a row of knobs on each side. Wordlessly, she pointed.
Kevin looked sheepish. "It's actually a foosball table," he said. "But I borrowed the board my dad uses for poker. I figured we needed a place to work."
Daria rolled her eyes. "Sure, Kevin. Let's just get started." She'd prepared carefully for today, since they would likely be delving into territory she was unfamiliar with, but she wanted to start on firm ground. "Okay," she said, opening a notebook. "I want you to take a couple of tests for me."
"Tests?" he said, his face falling. "That's not cool, Daria. You didn't give me time to study."
She gave him a long look. "They're diagnostic, Kevin."
"But I'm not sick," he broke in.
With a heavy sigh, she continued. "I want to know what you already know and how you learn. We would have done this at school, but we had to get you through your finals."
"Oh." At his blank stare, Daria sighed again.
"Alright," she said finally. "I'm going to ask you a series of questions about American history that a high school graduate should know. Based on how you do, we'll decide what to do next."
After twenty minutes, she called a halt. Kevin, it was clear, didn't know much about history. He knew some basic things, like what the Constitution was, the first President, and the three branches of government, but he was shaky on details, had no understanding of underlying causes, and was utterly hopeless when confronted with dates. She wasn't surprised that he couldn't answer, "In what year did the War of 1812 begin?" She was slightly disappointed that his answer, "1966," wasn't even in the right century.
Next, she did some cognitive tests to see what his preferred style of learning was. The results were surprising. She'd expected him to be a visual learner, or maybe tactile, given his success as an athlete. His results were below average in all three areas, though, and his auditory learning with pretty much on a par with the other two.
"Looks like the backup plan," she said. She'd known all along this was a possibility, but she'd hoped against hope that it wouldn't be necessary. Reluctantly, she reached into the knapsack and pulled out a massive tome with a number of post-its marking pages throughout.
"Is that—" Kevin paused, excitement and shock growing.
"Football Encyclopedia, yes." Daria said, matter-of-fact as ever. She thumbed through it for a moment until she found an appropriate page. "Now, I'm going to ask you some questions from this."
"Sure, Daria, but you don't need to teach me about football." Kevin, if possible, looked more puzzled than usual.
"Never mind, Kevin. Who was the MVP of Super Bowl XXI, and what team did he play for?"
Kevin smiled, on sure ground. "Phil Simms from the Giants. He had one of the best games ever in a Super Bowl. He really should be in the Hall of Fame, you know. His receivers—"
"Thank you, Kevin." Daria cut him off, not really interested in the debate. "Who holds the all-time record for rushing yards?"
"Walter Payton. But Barry Sanders probably would have—"
"Right again, Kevin, but you can spare me the details. I don't need to know that much about football."
"Then why are you asking?"
Daria gritted her teeth. "I'm testing something." She flipped a page. "Where did the Rams play before St. Louis?"
"Los Angeles, and before that, Cleveland. The Cleveland Rams sounds weird…" Seeing Daria's expression, he trailed off, and she asked the next question, which he got right. The questions got progressively harder and more complex. To Daria's astonishment, Kevin didn't miss one. Details that had taken her a solid week of research to understand on even the most basic of levels tripped easily from Kevin's mouth. With a sigh, she finally stood.
Kevin looked alarmed. "I didn't do something wrong, did I, Daria?"
"No, Kevin," Daria said, deadpan expression in place. "In fact, I think we may be on the verge of a breakthrough."
Kevin jumped up from the table, narrowly missing banging his knee. "All right!" He raised his hand for a high five, but Daria didn't move or change expression. Puzzlement replaced excitement. "If we're doing well, why do you look so gloomy?"
"I'm Daria, remember? I always look this way." She gathered up her stuff. To her surprise, he gave her a hand with the heavy encyclopedia. "Take a few days off, Kevin. I'll call when we're ready to start again."
"All right! Thanks, Daria." She headed for the door, leaving him thinking what a shame it was that she never smiled.
"…so it turns out, he's a football genius." Daria sat with Jane the next day in their usual booth at Pizza King. Half a large cheese pie still sat between them. "It's only everything else that he's a moron about."
"So all you have to do is relate everything to football and he can be taught." Jane grinned at her friend.
"I feel like I've wandered into a freakin' sitcom." Daria complained. "All I need is Potsy to start singing a doo-wop song about blood circulation and we'll be set."
Jane laughed. "Nick at Nite meets Sick, Sad World."
Daria didn't join her. "I thought my life was sick and sad enough, thanks."
"C'mon, Daria," Jane said as she nabbed another slice. "Look on the bright side."
Daria raised an eyebrow. "Bright side? The only bright side I can see involves wraparound coats and heavy sedation."
"Overstate things much?" Jane took a big bite of her pizza.
Daria looked down at her empty plate. "Yeah, I know. It's just that I spent so much time talking Kevin into shooting his break to hell that I failed to realize I'd be shooting my break to hell, too."
"You could always change your mind."
"That would feel too much like giving up," Daria said. After a moment she added. "Besides, I know it's only Kevin, but he needs me. I have to see this through." She lifted a piece of pizza, but didn't take a bite. Instead she seemed to ponder it, lost in thought.
Jane gave her friend a long, searching look, before resorting to sarcasm. "Usually, you put the pizza in your mouth. Unless you think you've found another use for it."
"Sorry, Jane," Daria reddened slightly. "It's just that I'm worried. In a way, I'm Kevin's only hope."
"Until he starts to grasp the playbook better," Jane snorted. "Kevin's fate doesn't rest totally on your shoulders. He won the state championship here, so if he's any good, he'll end up the starter there. And then he won't care about schoolwork anymore." She steamrolled over Daria's attempts to interrupt. "So don't let Kevin's fate weigh so heavily on your shoulders. He'll get through. That kind always does."
"So you're saying I should drop this, that it won't do Kevin any good anyway?" Daria's tone was flat, hostile.
"No," Jane said patiently. "I'm saying that you shouldn't worry about it. I know you, and I know you're not going to give up. But don't beat yourself up when Kevin loses interest. Just pat yourself on the back for doing your best and move on. Kevin will."
Silence fell. Several times it looked as if Daria was about to say something, but each time, she would pause on the point of speaking, look down at her pizza, and remain wordless. Meanwhile, Jane chewed contentedly. Finally, Daria rose, half her pizza still uneaten. "Thanks for the advice, Jane," she said, voice toneless, but not hostile.
"Worth what you paid for it," Jane shrugged and appropriated Daria's leftover pizza.
Chapter 4: Pass Interference
Though she'd given Kevin time off, Daria had little to herself. She had to at least begin to organize some basic education around Kevin's football-centric mindset, a task that only grew more daunting as she worked on it. By the time New Year's Eve rolled around, Daria was ready to chuck the whole project forever, or at least for a night.
She was invited to Jodie's Millennium New Years' party, and she'd agreed to go. Jane wanted to, and Daria knew that with both Jane and Jodie on the case, she'd have little chance of getting out of it. Besides, she'd enjoyed seeing Jodie and Mack over Thanksgiving, and she figured it would be nice to see them again.
It was reasonably warm for New Years'—after frigid Indiana, an Elysian paradise for Daria—so she and Jane decided not to bother scaring up a car. They strolled along companionably enough, though mostly silent. As they turned on to the access road to Crewe Neck, Daria said, "So, who else do you think will be there?"
"Jodie and Mack," Jane shrugged.
"I never would have guessed," Daria returned with a sour smile. "Quinn said Sandi's throwing a big party for the Lawndale seniors, so we won't see any of the Fashion Fiends."
Jane nodded. "I heard from Trent."
"Trent?" Daria raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me Mystik Spiral is playing there."
Jane grinned. "It wouldn't surprise me, but no. It was Jesse's brother Danny who was auditioning."
"Isn't he like fourteen?" Daria asked.
"Sixteen," Jane said. "From what Trent says, his band is even worse than the Spiral was at that age, but Danny's got a thing for older girls, and he thinks being in a band is the best way to get near them."
Daria had only met Danny a couple of times, and he seemed immature for his age. The idea of him coming on to seniors was oddly disturbing. "I could happily have gone my entire life without knowing that." Jane laughed.
Soon after, they arrived at the Landon's imposing McMansion. They were greeted at the door with an affable wave by Mr. Landon, who let them know that the party was around back. As they passed through the gate, they were immediately assaulted with a welcoming squeak. "Daria! Jane! It's so good to see you!"
"Hi, Brittany," Daria said with a rueful smile. The bouncy blonde looked much as she had during high school, except that instead of her cheerleader uniform, she wore tight denim jeans and a bulky red sweater.
"How are you?" Brittany asked, enthusiastic as ever. "It's so good to be home again."
"Where are you again?" Jane asked.
"Eastern Kentucky University. Go-o-o-o, Colonels!" For a second it looked like Brittany was going to burst into a full-fledged routine, but she quickly got control of herself. "I'm only on the pep squad now, but coach says I have a good chance to make varsity cheerleading next year if I keep working hard."
"Good to hear," Jane said, nodding wisely. "I stayed pretty local. Maryland Institute of Art. It's a good school, though. Very prestigious."
Brittany nodded, clearly clueless about Jane's school. "And you're at Notre Dame, right Daria? With, you know," she lowered her voice, as if afraid to summon him by naming him, "Kevin."
Daria had heard some of the details of Brittany and Kevin's breakup over Thanksgiving. They weren't pretty. But before she could change the subject, Jane jumped in. "Indeed she is, Brittany. In fact," she grinned maliciously, "Daria's actually tutoring our little star quarterback."
"Thank you, Jane," Daria said, acid in her voice. "I so wanted everyone in Lawndale to hear about that."
Brittany's face took on a look of horror. "Daria," she breathed, "you're not…interested in Kevin, are you?"
"As a science project, yes; as a human being, maybe; as a potential romance, not in a million years."
"Good," Brittany nodded." Her relief was palpable. Daria wasn't sure if the relief was because Brittany didn't think Kevin was good enough for Daria or because she still harbored feelings for the big mook. She and Jane chatted with Brittany for s few more minutes before heading off in search of Jodie and Mack.
Before they got very far, a rough female voice said, "The Misery Chick tutoring ol' Cubie. That's pretty funny."
Daria whirled to find Andrea, an enigmatic smile on her face. "And how the hell do you know? Did someone put up fliers?"
Andrea gestured toward Jane. "It's not like Lane whispers." Jane gave a mocking bow.
"And why do you care, anyway?"
"For one thing, I'd love to watch. I mean, he could barely write his name when he graduated. You must want to kill him."
"You have no idea," Daria sighed, as Andrea and Jane both chuckled. "And I'd really rather try to forget about Kevin this week, if you don't mind?"
"What about Kevin?" Mack said as he came up behind Jane. "I thought you said you hadn't seen him, Daria."
"Don't," Daria growled at Jane, but Jane, of course, ignored her.
"She ran across Kevin about a week after Thanksgiving," Jane said. "And now she's tutoring him. Isn't it sweet?"
"Mack," Daria said, as he stared in slack-jawed shock, "can you ask Jodie how deep her parents' basement is and if they'd mind storing a body for awhile?"
Jane laughed again as Daria glared. Finally, Mack got his expression under control. "Wow. I can't even picture that."
"And you shouldn't have had to," Daria said, giving Jane another look.
"This time," Jane said, "I plead noble intentions. I told Brittany to see what would happen, but Mack has practical experience with Kevin-wrangling."
Daria looked thoughtful. "That's true. You're off the hook, Lane. For now." She turned to Mack. "Do you have any advice for dealing with Kevin?"
"Run the other way," Mack said, reducing Jane and Andrea to further giggles.
"Thank you oh so much for that helpful advice, Mr. Mackenzie." Sarcasm dripped from Daria's words. "Got any advice that I couldn't figure out on my own?"
"But if you could figure it out," Mack asked with an innocent look, "why didn't you follow it?"
Overcome, Daria threw up her hands, gave a wordless snarl, and stalked off. Andrea followed shortly after, looking for other entertainment. Jodie, walked over and put her hand on her boyfriend's shoulder. "Was that just Daria I saw? She looks upset."
"Nothing to worry about, Jodie," Jane said. "Just having a little fun with her to celebrate the New Year."
Jodie looked over her shoulder. "Are you sure?
"Give her a minute to cool off. She'll be back." Jane grinned. "By the way, my compliments to your boyfriend for true evil delivered with a straight face." Turning to Mack she added. "I had no idea you had it in you."
Mack took a bow. "Well, that's what college is for. Learning. OW!" He rubbed his shoulder where Jodie had given him a not-so-playful punch. "That was terrible to do to poor Daria, what with all the pressure she's under."
"What do you mean?" Jane asked.
"C'mon, Jane. I know she told you she's tutoring Kevin."
Jane blinked. "Well, yeah, but how did you know?"
Jodie shrugged. "Ms. Li sometimes forgets we're not still at Lawndale. She asked Mrs. Thompson to keep her informed about Kevin. She told Li, and Li told my father." She made a face, "Like there's anything I can or want to do about it. Getting myself though Princeton is more than enough for me."
"Poor Daria," Mack said. "So much for her secret."
"Poor me, you mean," Jane shot back. "There are dozens of people I won't be able to tell now."
"Dozens?" Jodie raised an eyebrow. "You didn't talk to dozens of people in four years of High School."
"Okay, I didn't get to tell you. Happy?" Jane grinned. "Anyway, here's everyone's favorite tutor now," she added as Daria stomped back around the house toward her friend. "Whaddaya know, Morgendorffer?"
"I know you hate me, Lane, and you've turned Mackenzie against me," Daria growled. "So, Jodie, you're my only hope for decent conversation."
"Sorry, Daria," Jodie said with a smile. "I know, too."
"Jane tell you?"
Jodie shook her head. "Li's proud of Kevin for making Notre Dame, so now she's proud of you for keeping him there."
Daria slapped a hand to her forehead. "You're kidding me, right?" At Jodie's level look, she groaned. "You're not kidding. This is ridiculous! Do you think Li'll put a billboard on the Giant Strawberry?"
"Relax," Jane smirked. "She'll probably only come up with some sort of honor society for Lawndale graduates, and make you a charter member."
"Only if Jodie gets in, too." Daria mock-glared at the darker girl.
"That's an honor I'm going to have to decline," Jodie said, and all four of them laughed.
After she calmed down, Daria and Jane mingled a little. They exchanged pleasantries with some of the other cheerleaders and had longer conversations with some of the other bright kids from her graduating class. Jane was kind enough not to bring up Kevin anymore, so Daria started to relax and enjoy herself. By the end of the night, she was feeling something close to affection for her former fellow students.
Those positive feelings vanished as she and Jane left the back yard. Parked in the street in front of the Landon house was Kevin's red jeep. Its owner was engaged in a clearly heated conversation with Brittany. "But, Babe—" Kevin's voice, though pitched low, carried to Daria and Jane.
"Don't call me babe," Brittany snapped. "You lost that right when you dumped me in September."
"But we've broken up tons of times. We always get back together."
Daria and Jane exchanged glances. "It's dark, so maybe they won't see us if we move slowly," Daria whispered.
"Right," Jane whispered back. "Wouldn't want to get caught in the crossfire."
Just then, Kevin's fell on them. "Hey, it's Daria! Daria's smart, she can fix this!" He started to wave. "Daria! Daria!"
"Keep walking, Daria," Jane said. "Pretend you didn't hear him." But Daria had already stopped. "Crap," Jane sighed.
"Kevin," Daria said, "there is very little about you I can fix. So why are you bothering me?"
As usual, her attempt to discourage him failed. "I need to you to come talk to Brit!" The object of this statement stood with her hands on her hips, looking nonplussed as Daria began to walk over. Jane followed, unnoticed.
"I've already had a nice conversation with Brittany tonight," Daria said, giving Kevin a glare. "But," she added to the other girl, "you've always been kind to me, which is more than I can say, so I'll be happy to have another one if you'd like." At Brittany's puzzled expression, she gave a Mona Lisa smile. "What would you like to talk about?"
"Hey, wait a minute—" Kevin started to say, but Brittany overrode him. "I'd like to talk about why I will never lower myself to date, or even be in the same room with, Kevin Thompson again. It's not that we broke up," she drew herself up, rage in her eyes, "but what he said to me was unforgivable."
"Ah," Daria said. "May I handle this, Brittany?"
"Sure," the blonde said, with a kind of quiet dignity. "I'll talk to Jane." At these words, a horrified expression crept across Jane's face.
"Now, Kevin. I'm assuming you want Brittany to be your 'babe' again," Daria said the word babe with some disgust.
"Of course," Kevin said. "She's so hot."
"Well, did you or did you not use the words 'trading up' when you broke up before you left for Notre Dame?"
"She said she didn't want me anymore!"
"Forget that," Daria's eyes bored into his. "Did you or did you not say tell her you were trading up?"
"Yes," he finally said, a hangdog expression on his face.
"And would you take a starting QB job if the coach only came back to you because his new free agent got hurt?"
"If I had to!" Kevin said. "They're not handing out too many starting jobs in the NFL!"
"Ah," Daria waved a finger at him. "Brittany doesn't have to. She's got a whole school of guys to choose from, and you don't even go to that school. Why should she come back to you?"
Kevin said nothing and looked sad as Daria continued. "It's not like there isn't a whole school of girls for you to choose from, Kevin. And for reasons that I still don't understand after more than three years now, many members of my gender continue to find you attractive."
Kevin nodded slowly, an unusually thoughtful expression on his face. He regarded Daria for a long moment before hopping into his car and heading off.
"You owe me," Daria said to Brittany, and walked off down the street.
"How does she do that?" Brittany asked, looking confused.
"You got me," Jane returned, her expression matching Brittany's. "Hey, wait up," she added to Daria's retreating form. When she caught up to her friend, she was surprised to see unshed tears standing in Daria's eyes.
"Hey, hey," she said. "This time Kevin won't abandon you and the baby,"
"Not Kevin," Daria choked out. "Tom?"
Illumination filled Jane. After Tom's email, Daria had called him, hoping to talk things out. From what Daria said, Tom had been pretty brutal in cutting the strings. Jane had thought Daria was finally okay about it, but she didn't need to be a mind-reader to know she was wrong. Stopping, she put a hand on Daria's shoulder, and when the other girl turned, engulfed her in a hug. Daria stiffened for a moment, but then sagged against Jane.
"I'm tired of having to be strong," she whispered.
"I know," Jane said, patting her back. "But you're stuck with it. It's who you are."
Daria laughed, an ugly sound, but still a laugh. "Too true." Straightening, her eyes no longer filled, she added. "Thanks, Jane. I don't deserve you."
"This is news, amiga?" Jane tore down the street, avoiding Daria's playful slap.
Chapter 5: Offsides
Tutoring was scheduled to begin anew on Monday the third, so Daria dutifully trekked over to the Thompsons' at one in the afternoon. Helen had offered to come back to Glen Oaks Lane during lunch hour to give Daria a ride, but Daria, worried about sudden parental enthusiasm, had declined. "I'm already in college, Mom," she said out loud after hanging up on Helen. "You don't have to push me into extracurriculars anymore."
This time, when she knocked on the door, she was greeted not by a parent, but by an angry Kevin. "I can't believe you did that, Daria," he said before she could even say hello. "That was so not cool."
For a moment, Daria considered playing dumb, but she didn't think even Kevin would be fooled. So she confronted him instead. "What was so not cool about what I did?"
"I thought you were going to help me," he said. "Now I don't think I can trust you."
"With what? Your love life? Getting involved in your love life has as much appeal to me as another trip on the Fairy Princess."
"So why did you get involved last night?" he retorted.
"Because you asked me to. You said, 'fix it,' so I fixed it. You are free not to worry about Brittany anymore, and she doesn't have to waste time telling you off." She smirked, "Something for everyone."
"And what did you get, Daria?"
His sudden sharpness made her a bit uncomfortable. She had no doubt he was on the wrong track, whatever he was thinking, but the fact that he was on any track at all surprised her. Still, she soldiered on, smirk in place. "I got to shorten my night. If I let you two talk, we'd all still be there."
"C'mon, Daria." Kevin smiled knowingly. "I heard what you said last night. It's just like when Brit wouldn't go to the dance with me Junior Year."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"You don't have to deny it." He grinned like he was doing her a favor. "I won't say anything. But it would be really inappropriate. After all, you're basically like my teacher, right?"
"Kevin," Daria's eyes flashed. "If you're talking about what I think you're talking about, you can stop now. I don't know how many times I have to tell you, but I'm not interested in you. I don't find you attractive in any way. I like guys with brains, who can hold up their end of a conversation, and even thought you've proved to me over the last couple of weeks that you're smarter than a houseplant, you still don't qualify and never will." She huffed out an angry breath. "Now are we going to do this or are you going to keep wasting my time?"
"Whatever, Daria," Kevin said, taking a step back. Daria couldn't tell if he was making room or getting away from her, but she crossed the threshold anyway. "Your room again?" He nodded and led her upstairs. They were soon hard at work.
Several hours later, they'd made some progress. One of his papers was for Literature 101. She sketched out some of the basics of literary theory, in terms he could sort of understand. "Everyone sees a novel differently, just like every quarterback seems the field differently," she said. "You know how most pass plays are designed to give the quarterback as many options as possible?"
"Like the flea flicker in Super Bowl III, when the Colts sent two receivers into the pattern. But Morrall threw to the wrong one and got picked off." His face lit with sudden insight. "Are you saying you have to be careful which way you look at the book because you can be wrong?"
"Sort of," she said, silently wishing she could go back to a previous, comfortable existence where she didn't know the names of losing Super Bowl quarterbacks. "It's hard to be wrong about your interpretation, as long as you stay in bounds. You can't focus on something you wanted to happen in the book, just what did. But you can read what happened any way you want to, as long as you can prove it makes sense."
"Like it made no sense to throw a pick when Jimmy Orr was wide open."
Daria nodded, and they moved to discussing the specifics about the book, which was Great Expectations. Daria was no fan of Dickens, but she muddled through. When they finished at five, Daria had something like a sense of accomplishment. Too bad I've got to teach him grammar tomorrow.
Over the course of the next two weeks, she tried to give Kevin the tools he would need to complete his papers. Happily, he didn't bring up Brittany or Daria's supposed infatuation with him, which reduced the temptation to kill him. Somehow, they both made it to Friday the fourteenth.
"That's it, she said, closing her book and looking across the green felt at Kevin. "We've covered everything you need to write your papers. You're on your own until we get back to Indiana."
Kevin nodded. "I'll start this weekend. They're not due until the first, so I should be able to finish them. Uh," a nervous look crossed his face. "You'll look them over before I hand them in, right?"
"Yes," Daria knew this was important to Kevin, but she couldn't help sighing a little. "I'll help you fix the grammar and spelling. And now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to try and enjoy the rest of the break." Grabbing her backpack, she headed for the door, not noticing Kevin's eyes follow her.
Outside, a surprise waited for her: her mother's blue Lexus. The window rolled down as she approached, and she heard Quinn's voice. "Get in, Daria," her sister said. "We're going to dinner."
Daria gave her a suspicious look. "No shopping I hope?"
Quinn laughed. "Get in the car."
"So what's up, Quinn?" Daria said, as she buckled up. "Not that I mind the company, but I thought you'd be out on a Friday night."
"Well, I've hardly seen you since you got back, between you tutoring Kevin and my own schoolwork." She smiled to take the sting from her words. "So I decided we should spend some time together. Sushi OK?"
"Not if it's Tokyo Toby's."
"Relax," Quinn said. "The Board of Health finally closed it down. There's a new place over by Chez Pierre."
"Sounds good, then."
Quinn navigated the side streets in relative silence. When she successfully merged onto the highway, she finally spoke again. "So, tell me about your afternoon," she said, in a teasing tone. "I'm dying to know what you and Kevin got up to alone in his room."
"I can reach your throat from here," Daria said in a flat tone, "and I'm willing to chance an accident if it means you can't get away."
Happy to score off her sister, Quinn chuckled and changed the subject. The sisters chatted amiably for the next few minutes and arrived at the restaurant in good humor.
"I've never really developed a taste for sushi," Daria said as she pushed open the door, "but I'm sure there's something on the menu I'll like."
"Too late to change," Quinn said with a smile. The restaurant was long and narrow, with vertical wood paneling on the walls. To Daria's eyes, the place gave an air of neatness and efficiency, nothing like the one time she'd been in Tokyo Toby's. A sushi bar extended halfway down the length of the restaurant along one wall, but it was toward the tables in the back that Quinn headed. "I hate sitting at the sushi bar," she said over her shoulder in a low voice. "Makes me feel like I'm in a crappy diner."
"Or Cluster Burger," Daria added.
"There's a difference?" Quinn deadpanned.
"Point." Daria felt a sudden rush of affection for her sister, something she would never have imagined eighteen months ago. She took a chair, letting Quinn have the seat against the wall. A waitress came by and dropped off menus. For the next few minutes, they occupied themselves with ordering—Quinn chose sashimi, while Daria got a teriyaki chicken dish.
After the menus were cleared, Quinn gave her sister a teasing smile. "Bet this isn't how you planned to spend your first winter break."
"You have no idea," Daria replied. "'Tutor Kevin Thompson' was right down below 'take up firewalking' on my list of things to do over break."
Quinn laughed. "What I don't understand is how he talked you into it. It's not like you were best of friends in High School."
"He was just too pathetic to turn down," Daria deadpanned.
"Be serious, Daria."
"You're asking a lot."
"So what if I am?" There was a challenge in Quinn's eyes.
Daria paused for a moment. When she finally spoke, she chose her words carefully. "I'm not sure, Quinn. Asking me took some nerve, and maybe that's part of the reason. But he also seems to want to learn. That's a big selling point." As Quinn's eyes continued to bore into her, she added, "And he's pretty desperate."
The redhead's serious expression fell away, and she laughed. "I'll say. I heard he showed up at Jodie's on New Years'."
Daria gave her sister a flat, unfriendly stare. "That's not what I'm talking about."
It was Quinn's turn to look thoughtful. "I'm not sure about that. I mean, it all ties together, right? For the first time in years, he's not the football hero, so he's looking for people who knew him when he was. He goes to you for tutoring, he tries to get back with Brittany—"
"Wait?! How do you know that?"
"Puh-leeze, Daria," Quinn said. "I'm a senior now, which means I know everything." She laughed. "I wish I could have seen you take him apart."
Daria half-smiled. "It was sort of fun. The look on his face was priceless."
"I'll bet." Quinn's smile faded. "Anyway, try not to get too pulled into this. Kevin wants you around because you're familiar. Even if he keeps wanting to learn, he might not need you to do it."
"God, I hope so," Daria said. "There's only so much of Kevin I can take, and I think I've exceeded my recommended allowance for this decade already."
Quinn gave her sister a weighing look, but before she could ask another question, the food arrived. For a few minutes they ate in silence, and when conversation restarted, they turned to other topics, as if by mutual agreement. All in all, it was a nice night, and if Quinn had certain misgivings, she kept them to herself.