Slowly
A Trent and Daria love story.
In a city far, far, far, far, far...far away from Lawndale, Daria Morgendorffer sat. At 25 years old, Daria was a college graduate, and sometimes published, semi-successful author. To pay the bills Daria often free-lanced at a newspaper; offering her own cynical opinion of things in the form of an article. The arrangement worked fairly well: Daria got money, and got to bitch about things. Everybody wins. Otherwise Daria worked on pieces of fiction.
Daria flipped effortlessly through the newspaper at her table, searching out her column's responses. Several people had replied to her latest entry, some supportive and others downright furious. Daria smiled her signature smile and sipped her soft drink.
As an adult, Daria had grown up somewhat from her teenage ensemble. Though she still wore the same thing most days, she'd swapped her black skirt for some black jeans tucked into her well worn lace-up boots, and instead of her green jacket and orange shirt, she wore a grey short-sleeved shirt, and opted for a fluffy hoodie when the weather required. Other than that, her appearance was mostly the same. After her original glasses broke, she'd swapped them for a smaller, more rectangular pair which suited her face. Essentially Daria remained short, with thick hair, and her omnipresent air of apathy and a hint of contempt.
It was in the early hours of the afternoon, and Daria literally had nothing to do. There was a fictional story on her computer waiting to be written, but before that could happen, Daria had to wait for some inspiration. Oddly she found herself lacking in the creative juices department. Sure, she was still excellent at complaining, and that was enough to put to paper, but a fantastical story with plot and meaning eluded her.
Daria lived alone. It suited her quiet temperament, though she missed the few people who'd seen through the barrier she'd spent the largest portion of her life building. Jane, also semi-successful in her own respective career, travelled at will, visiting exotic places in random corners of the globe searching for more scenes to depict with her brush. They kept in touch, mostly through sparse mail because often Jane didn't have access to a phone, or a computer, or even basic civilisation. Her art had flourished through, and she made a fairly steady and sufficient living, enough to send her around the world. She also picked up odd jobs here and there for some extra spending money. Tom and Daria had reached somewhat of an impasse in their relationship. They'd so far never rekindled the flame of their relationship, and their attempt at remaining friends persevered awkwardly to this day. Tom still meant a lot to her, but Daria was fairly sure their best days were long behind them. Daria had seen Tom the least out of everyone since she left. Trent had also grown up somewhat. He still fronted Mystik Spiral, but he'd gotten himself a day job and lived somewhat normally now, with some responsibility. Lastly was her family. Somehow despite all their differences and miscommunications over the years, they had levelled out, and now understood each other to some degree. It wasn't much, but it was more than Daria had come to expect and she was pleased. Getting along better with her family severely reduced her feelings of alienation, and softened some of the spikes on her personality.
Speaking of family, it's Quinn's birthday in a few short days, Daria reminded herself. Quinn lived in Lawndale still, taking a community college class in business. Quinn had a sharp brain that was never fully nurtured but she'd been putting it to use these recent years beginning designs for her own brand of clothing while studying business in the hopes of one day owning her own fashion label. Reaching her early twenties had made Quinn realise that she didn't want high school to be the best years of her life and became determined to enjoy the remainder of her youth and beauty. This resulted in extravagant parties every year on her birthday to the point of ridiculousness, and semi-extravagant parties at any other time. Her 23rd birthday in a few days was sure to be no exception. Quinn had grown kinder over the years though, openly introducing Daria as her sister more frequently and with less embarrassment on her face. Quinn even let Daria invite a couple of friends to her party every year, not wanting Daria to be alone. Daria had a sneaking suspicion there was a secondary reason: to kept Daria away from Quinn's friends.
Daria was required to go back to Lawndale the next day and help with the preparations for the party. Daria tried to insist at the time of arranging that she would be unavailable due to an unavoidable need to refine the art of sitting on her couch, but her plan had failed, and her luggage sat packed and ready to go.
The hours on the clock wheedled away while Daria found boring tasks to occupy her. She dreaded the looming trip back to Lawndale, but looked forward to seeing Jane and Trent who'd been invited also. Trent was a sure thing as he still lived in town, but Jane's RSVP kept Daria cautious, knowing that she might suddenly be unable to come, due to being in isolation. At this thought, Daria plodded to her computer and checked her email, hoping against hope she wouldn't have received an email from Jane with her apologies. There was none. Of course, she'd be more likely to receive one in the actual mail, Daria thought to herself.
Daria's sleep that night was uneasy, plagued by memories of Lawndale and its occupants, and the fear of being left alone at a party where she'd be forced to mingle with many of Quinn's vapid friends.
x.x.x
After a long and arduous flight sitting next to a dishevelled and grumpy man who insisted on staring at Daria, while chewing on a mystery substance, the plane touched down at Lawndale's modest airport. Daria sighed and got into one of the taxis waiting to take their sobbing customers (Daria assumed many people arriving in Lawndale would be crying) to their foreboding destination.
The familiar house stared unforgiving at Daria in her taxi. Daria threw the required money to the man and climbed out, dragging her feet. She'd do pretty much anything to avoid going inside. She collected her bags and stood at the beginning of the walk to the house, just watching. After a while Daria hoisted her bags from the ground and opened the door. Inside the house was familiar. Virtually nothing had changed. This was somewhat soothing.
"Daria!" Helen Morgendorffer enthused, popping her head out from the kitchen. How odd, Daria thought, she's had the phone surgically removed. Helen disappeared behind the kitchen doorway again. Daria took this as her cue to follow her. As she walked into the kitchen, her eyes grew wide. Her mother was actually cooking. There were three pots simmering on the barely used stove, and something delicious smelling roasted in the oven. Helen was tossing a salad in between and was smiling up at her eldest daughter congenially.
"How are you, darling?" Helen asked, tossing her salad energetically. Daria chose her words carefully.
"I am somewhat...surprised to find you in the kitchen," admitted Daria. "Pleasantly," she added hastily.
"Oh, well, work isn't everything you know? After I cut back on my hours at the firm," Helen paused to swivel around and stir one of the pots behind her, "I just found that I was so much more relaxed, and now that I have the time to actually I do it, I enjoy cooking!" She returned to her salad and ground some pepper on it. "Besides, I was beginning to get bored of lasagna." At this point, Mr. Jake Morgendorffer also entered the kitchen.
"Hey, kiddo," he cried.
"Hi, Dad," was the monotonous reply. Jake then addressed his wife. Daria took the moment to slip upstairs and to her room, which like the rest of the house, remained unchanged. She flopped onto her bed, rather tired. Something crinkled beneath her. Shifting her weight, Daria pulled out a letter from underneath her. Recognising Jane's handwriting on the envelope, Daria's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Daria tore it open.
Daria, hey!
You're probably wondering why I'm sending this to you at this address.
I'm sorry, but I can't make it to Quinn's party. I knew you'd be here by now, so I thought I'd just send it here. Trent is still going to go, so you've got that to look forward to.
Anyway, it's great down here! I've found lots of...
There was more, but Daria could barely bring herself to read it. The disappointment flooded through her so impressively her semi-happy mood crushed to bordering on slightly depressed. Wishing for conversation from someone other than her parents, Daria snuck out the door under cover of her parents having a mild argument.
The few short blocks to Casa Lane evaporated quickly under Daria's feet and before she knew it she was at the door. She knocked, half expecting not to receive an answer. She didn't. Daria turned and started walking back up the path. It was then that a car that should have been crushed into a cube long ago pulled up to the curb. Daria's heart leapt unexpectedly. Trent. She admitted to herself it had been sometime since she'd seen him and she found herself feeling a little fluttery and nervous, struggling like a butterfly. The car's engine stopped and Trent stepped out.
"Daria, hey," drawled Trent. Trent dressed exactly the same as always, but without the holes. Daria's first crush stood, impressively laid back in front of her. "It's good to see you," he smiled and walked forward. Daria looked up at him meekly in the dark.
"Hi...Trent." How pathetic. Was that really all she could muster? Her eyes shifted to the side, unwilling to keep eye contact at length.
"Let's go inside," suggested Trent. "It's cold out." Trent gestured for Daria to go on ahead. Behind her, Trent's mind swirled with confusion and excitement. She was finally back. A small smile lingered on his face as he followed her up the walk.
Daria cursed herself as she walked. Ridiculous as it was, the feelings she had put on hold for Trent waiting for him to step up and be a man, were leaking out from their hiding spot. Trent closed the door behind them after they entered. He regarded Daria's appearance, and looked bored.
"So..." he said. They both looked at each other a little, and promptly shifted their eyes in opposite directions.
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