7
When Jane awoke, she was granted a few seconds of peaceful, ignorant bliss. The magnitude of the previous day came rushing back in, twisting into a knot in the center of her chest. She rubbed her eyes, too groggy to properly handle the stress. The phone rang, slightly jolting her out of her sleepy daze.
"Hello?"
"Hey. Don't tell me I woke you up." It was Daria.
"Uh… not quite. Missed it by about half a minute."
"Well the movie is in an hour and a half, so you should start coming by soon." Shit. The movie, Jane thought.
"Alright. Later."
"See ya."
Jane stared into space for a minute or two, letting the blankness of her mind engulf her. Then she brushed her hair out of her eyes, got up, and started getting ready on autopilot.
Ten minutes later, she had brushed her teeth, put her usual ensemble on, and was out the door with a granola bar in her hand and her headphones in her ears. Radiohead filled her head as she lightly jogged to Daria's.
And let's just say you did like girls, her mind began to say, like one of those people who continue conversations hours later. Why would you like Quinn? Of all people!
Jane quickened her pace, hoping to leave the thoughts in the dust. But they were relentless.
Now Daria. There's the kind of person you should like. She's more like you.
Jane started running as fast as she could.
I don't like anyone so SHUT. UP.
She arrived at Daria's slightly out of breath, her forehead slightly glistening with sweat. Thankfully she was in shape enough to not be wheezing by that point. Daria answered the door and beckoned Jane in wordlessly as she munched on a waffle.
Jane felt uneasy as she followed Daria to the kitchen. What if, in light of recent events, she found herself pining for Daria? That would be catastrophic beyond belief.
"Let me just finish what I'm eating, and then we'll head out," Daria said, sitting down at the table.
"Yup." Jane leaned against the counter, crossing her legs and arms, trying to affect a bored, relaxed demeanor. She studied Daria as she ate. Daria was pretty, but that she already knew. It was hard to try to find feelings like that for Daria. It was too weird. She was too close, too familiar.
What if she was sitting there naked? Maybe she looks like Quinn.
Jane groaned at the intrusion of that obnoxious voice in her head.
"What was that?" Daria asked.
"Nothing. Just thinking about an assignment I have to get done."
"Okay… How did it go last night?"
"Oh, uh… college girl. From the local college. She was nice. Went well."
"Damn," said Daria, bringing her plate to the sink. "I was kind of hoping you'd have some crazy story to tell."
"Yeah," said Jane weakly, praying for the conversation to end. She followed Daria as they headed towards the door, when a car started beeping frantically outside. Quinn came rushing down the stairs, followed by Helen.
"I'm going to the mall with Sandi to buy those platforms I wanted!" said Quinn.
"You were just begging for money a week ago! How are you going to pay for them?" asked Helen, raising an eyebrow skeptically.
"Muh-ommm! I told you last night, I volunteered at the nursing home!"
"Quinn, do you know what it even means to volunteer?" asked Daria. Quinn spun around to face Daria, and blanched at the sight of Jane. Jane kept her eyes glued somewhere innocuous, like Quinn's shoes.
"Yes, Daria," she exclaimed, not missing a beat. "But the old people paid me anyway because I did such a good job. You know how they're always stuffing twenties in kid's pockets! Anyway, good bye!" She glanced at Jane once more before rushing out the door. Helen stood still on the stairs, her eyes narrowed.
"And where are you two going?" she asked with a sigh.
"Movie," said Daria.
"New foreign film," added Jane.
"Alright. Well, have fun you two," Helen said, and went back upstairs.
"That was weird," said Daria as they left the house.
"Yeah. Wonder what double life Quinn is leading," said Jane.
"The weird part is she paid me back the ten dollars last night. She must have done something to get the money. And I thought she was just being nice."
"Hey, she could've pocketed your cash anyway." Daria shrugged.
"I guess."
"So… what's this movie about again?" asked Jane, desperate to change the subject.
"It's some kind of twisted romance. This guy is obsessed with this girl, except he's a deadbeat artist, barely making a living, and she's a gorgeous but completely vapid heiress. It's a completely shallow obsession. There's a lot of sex and I'm pretty sure they both die tragically in the end."
Jane gulped. "Wow." You've got to be kidding me.
"Yeah. Sounds like the making of some corny Hollywood movie. But it's supposed to be really good, so we'll see."
Jane sighed. This was going to be a long day.
8
Evening had come along, and Quinn had just finished getting ready for her date. Matt Sanders was picking her up that night, and he was more popular and definitely hotter than many of her recent dates. Quinn pictured his dark hair and chiseled face, which was not unlike Brad Pitt's. This was Stacey's realization; Quinn had never made the connection herself. But he was definitely attractive, and this much she knew. She had to look her best.
She stared at herself in her full-length mirror. Her platform sandals were the perfect, subtle shade of light pink, complimenting her dark, almost black jeans perfectly. A white lacy halter top and small pearl earrings completed her look. Well… almost. She pulled her hair up into a high ponytail, which showed off her slender shoulders, and the delicate slope of her neck.
Perfect, she thought, and smiled with satisfaction. She grabbed her denim jacket and her small purse, and headed for the door, anticipating Matt to be arriving quite soon.
As she came downstairs, the door opened, and Daria and Jane came through, chuckling about something.
"Nice platforms," Daria said. "And you didn't even need my ten to get them." Quinn rolled her eyes.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Daria. And I have a date, so I really don't want to get into it." Her eyes shifted to Jane, who was looking in the farthest possible direction, as if she were totally disinterested in the conversation.
"Get into what?" asked Daria, with mock innocence. There was a sharp knock on the door.
"That's my date. Go away!" hissed Quinn.
"I was going to stay and watch, but if you insist," said Daria.
Quinn opened the door to see Matt standing there with a bouquet of roses, grinning widely.
"Hey."
"Hey," said Quinn, closing the door quickly behind her, and accepting the flowers.
"Ready to go, babe?" he asked, still wearing a toothy grin.
"Of course," said Quinn. "Chez Pierre?"
"Is there anywhere else?" He opened the door to his lime green convertible, gesturing for Quinn to enter. She giggled as she slid into cool, leather exterior of the car seat.
"Of course not," she said.
He hopped into the front seat and gunned the engine, looking over at Quinn to make sure she was thoroughly impressed.
As they drove, he chattered about football, being better than Kevin, and being quarterback next year. Quinn nodded and chimed in at the right moments, saying things like "Oh of course" and "You definitely could do it!" And when she wasn't, she stared at the window, trying hard to follow his rants enough to keep up the commentary.
Maybe someone I know will be there on a date too, she thought. They'll see me with Matt. That'll be exciting.
When they got to Chez Pierre, he had finally stopped talking for a bit, enough to allow them to find a table.
"You look hot," he remarked, ogling her for the first time all night.
"Thanks," she said. "I just got these shoes today, I-"
"That shirt looks so good on you," he interrupted, staring intensely. Quinn shifted in her seat uncomfortably. Most guys were at least a little shy enough to not be so forward. But Matt had more confidence than a lot of the guys at Lawndale High.
"Thanks," she muttered. She grabbed the menu and tried to focus intensely.
"What are you even reading it for?" he asked, and then laughed. "Let me guess, a garden salad?"
"Uh, actually I usually get a Caesar," she said.
"Wow. Careful," he said, trying a little too hard to make it sound like a joke.
"Yeah," Quinn said, awkwardly laughing. She couldn't help but think that if Jane were there, she would have put him in his place.
Jane wouldn't even be on a date with someone like Matt, she thought, and then felt a twinge of guilt immediately after, as if she had insulted a good friend.
As Quinn and Matt ate their food, she couldn't help but notice how viciously he ate his meal. In between each sentence it seemed like, he would stab a hunk of meat ferociously with his fork, as if he were trying to make it bleed before sticking it into his mouth, and he would chew it with such force she could hear his teeth slamming together. It was in rhythm with his diatribes, which he was continuing from the car.
When they left, Matt paid in full, which was a plus one for him. He then reminded Quinn how beautiful she looked, which was another point.
Maybe he's not so bad, she thought. And he really is hot.
"I had a really nice time tonight," she said when they were back on the road.
"Oh, the night's not over yet," he said.
"What do you mean?"
"Quinn, you're too cute," he said, slapping her thigh lightly. Quinn gripped her seat tightly, trying to calm her nerves. They began weaving through silent, residential streets, but none near Quinn's house.
"I should probably get home Matt, I do have a curfew," she said. Matt pulled to the right, parking next to a trail area.
"So we don't have to take long," he said.
"Take long to do what?" she asked. He stretched out his arm and gently stroked Quinn's cheek.
"C'mon…" he said. "Quinn, you're so beautiful." Her breathing quickened and she wasn't sure if she was excited or nervous or both.
"Matt…" She looked at him. So he was a little self-centered, but he had been kind to her, and maybe this wouldn't be so bad?
He unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned in slowly in to kiss her. It was soft at first, and Quinn let herself give in. After a few moments, her heart began to sink.
It was her first kiss, and it was nothing like she expected. Instead, she was acutely aware of the saliva on his lips, and how so much of it was smeared on hers. She almost gagged at the thought.
His kiss deepened, and his tongue slipped into her mouth. His hands were on her back, rubbing and squeezing, and they had found their way to her halter top, ready to untie it. Her skin was crawling under his clammy hands. She broke away, shaking her head.
"No! No. Please… I don't want to do this anymore," she said, her voice barely audible.
"Come on Quinn, you have no reason to be shy." She could hear lust in his voice, gravely and deep, and it made her want to run far away.
He kissed her again, his hands running through her hair. She tried once again to get into the moment, but it felt wrong. She was bristling at his touch. She pulled away again, more roughly than before.
"No," she said, firmly this time. "Matt, I'm serious. Take me home." He pulled back, and stared at her. His lip was slightly curled, and his jaw was clenched, but he seemed calm otherwise.
"Alright," he finally said, holding his hands up. "It's no problem."
"Thanks," she said meekly. They didn't' say anything else till they pulled up in front of his house.
"Thanks again," she said. "I had a, um… good time. Really."
"Don't mention it, babe," he told her. His original grin was plastered back on his face, as if nothing had happened.
Quinn stood on the sidewalk as he drove away, trying to keep the tears from filling her eyes. Instead of going inside, she began to walk, needing the fresh air, and the space. She walked quickly, letting the sound of her heartbeat fill her ears, fighting back tears, until she reached the park, where she collapsed on a swing, and let the tears finally fall.