"Batshit crazy?" Jane finished. They hadn't talked about the nature of the school on the way to the store, electing to discuss lighter affairs and get to know one another better. "I have no idea. My brother Trent didn't talk about it very much...all I know about his high school days was that he was one of the 'greaser' types that make up most of the student body. I never considered he wore that outfit for a reason until my second day as a freshman, when two of my fellow freshmen made the mistake of offending an upperclassman. He had them rubbed out on the spot." Jane shuddered. "I kept my mouth shut and my bod in old duds ever since."
Daria shook her head, trying to clear her mind of the horrific imagery. "But how the hell could it get this way? Have you noticed any signs of...I dunno, external mob influence?"
Jane shook her head. "I'm not exactly an expert on this kind of thing, Daria, but if they were, don't you think they would be trying to hide it as much as possible? Or at the least, act like Prohibition ended decades ago and ditch the zoot suits?"
Daria nodded once, conceding the point to Jane.
"Besides, that doesn't explain the other schools."
"What other schools?"
"Well, the other schools in this county are all...uh, 'themed', like Lawndale is. There's Oakwood, which is a 'cowboy' school, there's Grove Hills, which is an Ancient Rome school, and there's Fielding, which is a Nazi school." She ticked each of the institutions off on one hand.
"...A Nazi school?"
"Yeah. They all act like it's Germany circa 1939. Just like Grove Hills acts like it's Julius Caesar's heyday, and it's always the OK Corral at Oakwood."
They walked in silence as Daria absorbed the information. "This whole town is fucking nuts," she finally concluded.
Jane laughed. "That's the conclusion I came to as well, amiga. Personally..." She leaned in close to Daria, looking around conspiratorially first to make sure nobody was watching them. "Personally, I think it's magic."
Daria shrugged. "Well, something sure as hell is making the whole county nuts. When I called mom earlier, she thought I was just nervous about being at Lawndale when I told her how many death threats had been made against me."
Jane nodded. "Yeah, I tried telling my mom about it too, but she just thought I was using vivid imagery to express my dissatisfaction with the callous learning institutions of oh God it still gives me a headache just saying it out loud." Jane rubbed her temples in a vain effort to alleviate the pain.
After bullshitting some more about the school and drifting on to other topics, they reached Daria's house. "Well, this is my stop," Daria opined.
"Ah. Trade numbers?" They traded numbers, and Jane wished Daria a good day before walking in the direction of her own home.
As Daria walked up to the front door, she noted her parents' cars were in the driveway. For once, she was pleased that they would be home. She would be able to get them out of Lawndale, and maybe if she was persuasive enough she could convince Helen to bring Jane along.
XXXX
"Don't be silly, Daria," her mother dismissed her claims again. "We've had this talk before, when you said those two boys you used to hang out with were proof of radioactive waste being dumped in the water table."
"Yeah, and didn't we move a thousand miles away from Highland the same week the papers broke that story?"
Helen waved a dismissive hand. "Be that as it may, Daria, I find it hard to believe every one of your teachers is out to kill you."
"How about I wear a wire and a hidden camera? How about some witness testimony from my classmates? How about you come with me to school for five minutes tomorrow and see the HOLES MY TEACHER SHOT INTO THE CEILING OF HIS CLASSROOM?" Daria was uncharacteristically animated, but the threat of being machine-gunned can do wondrous things.
Helen shook her head. "I don't think so, Daria, and there's no need to shout. I won't hear any more of it, and that's that." She turned to Quinn. "Now sweetie, how was your day?"
"It was so great, mom!" Quinn said, bounding with enthusiasm. "Do you have any of your clothes from when you were a teen in the 1950s?"
Helen's voice grew a tad frosty. "I grew up in the 60s, Quinn..." She warmed back up. "I do think mother should have most of my old clothes in storage, though, I'll have to call her..."
"The 60s? Ugh! Muh-ommm, the retro-50s look is totally in." She gestured to her sister. "Even DARIA is fitting in better than I am! At least give me some money so I can buy some new old clothes!"
"While normally I would interject with a snarky comment about Quinn's shallow tastes, mom, in this case you should acquiesce, because if Quinn doesn't fit in, one of the teachers or students might plug her full of lead."
Helen rolled her eyes at Daria's comment, choosing to ignore it. "Very well, Quinn. I'll lend you the gold card, but try not to go over $200, okay?"
XXXX
Later that night after dinner, Daria hit upon the idea of asking Quinn if she noticed anything weird about the school. She knocked on her sister's door. "Oh, it's you," Quinn said with a small measure of distaste once she opened the door. "What do you want?" Her tone was snotty.
"Quinn, did you notice anything...off...about the school?" She had explained absolutely everything wrong with the school to Helen while Quinn had been sitting two feet away, but that was no guarantee Quinn had actually heard any of it.
"Well, duh. All the retro fashions! At least Waif lets you browse their issues from that decade on their website for free, or I'd be helpless! Oh, Daria, can you tell me where you got that dress?" Daria had been wearing the conservative black dress ever since she had bought it at Nathan's - if she had to wear it, she was going to get used to wearing it all the time.
"Quinn, didn't anything else seem off to you? Did you notice anybody get threatened with, say, being shot, or being fitted for cement boots, or anything else along those lines?"
Quinn wrinkled her nose in distaste at what Daria was describing. "Daria, you're being weirder than usual," she commented.
Daria sighed. "Quinn, my life was threatened no less than three times today. A teacher fired off a goddamn machine gun in the middle of one of my classes. I...dontwantyoutogethurt." She muttered the last as quickly as she could.
Quinn looked at Daria funny. "What?"
"Nothing," Daria brushed off the comment. "Um. The store I got this dress at is called Nathan's Boutique, and it's located a block south of Dega Street..." She gave Quinn directions to the store, then walked into her bedroom, laid on the bed, and wondered if she would be able to make it through the next two years of high school alive.