Daria: The College Years

Episode 11: Make-ups & Do-overs

By: Farren O'Blivion

And she calls me harsh, Daria thought, surveying her friend with amazement.

"Danny and I used to worship our brothers. But I'm sure he felt the same way about his father, too, before he walked out on them," Jane said, glaring at a cream colored bird perched on a bough outside the window. After a moment, she continued. "They used to live down the street from us. Trent and Jesse have been best-friends since birth. But after Hector left... Well, Gloria couldn't afford the house on her own." She sighed and turned away. "It was unexpected, you know? Hector and Gloria Moreno seemed like the 'perfect couple.' Middle-class, two-point-five kids, thirty year mortgage... I wonder what that feels like."

"Having a mortgage?" Daria asked, settling into her desk chair.

"Having a parent leave."

Daria frowned, confused. "Your parents leave all the time."

"No, my parents are already gone." She turned to Daria, a speculative look on her face. "They don't leave; they return."

"That actually makes sense," Daria said. "In a completely dysfunctional way."

Jane chuckled darkly. "Dysfunction is our function." She tossed the bed-pillow at the smaller girl and grinned. "You've met my brother, Wind, right? He thrives on dysfunction."

Daria shuddered. "What marriage is he on?"

"No idea. The twelfth? Twenty-fifth?"

Delaney reentered the room, water-filled coffee pot in hand. She smiled at them in greeting before turning to the coffee-maker, pouring in the water and switching it on. She pulled Pouch from her breast pocket and settled him next to the toaster with a handful of granola from the plastic sack. He munched at it, his whiskers twitching happily.

"Breakfast, Daria? Jane?" Delaney asked without turning, pulling out the bread, eggs and butter from the mini-fridge. She snatched the camp stove from the bottom shelf of the bookcase and settled it on her desk.

"Um... Sure, thanks," Daria said distractedly, her eyes on Jane's suddenly intense expression.

"No problem," Delaney said. She cranked the camping stove to 'High' and threw a dollop of butter into the frying pan.

"Delaney?" Jane said, walking slowly toward her. "You've been... getting to know Trent... right?"

Daria's interest perked up at the quiet, cautious note in her friend's voice.

Delaney half-shrugged and popped a couple of bread slices into the toaster, seemingly oblivious to the sudden tension in the room. "I s'pose."

Jane paused to regard her briefly before continuing. "When you went to wake him up the other day, did he... say anything? In his sleep, I mean?"

Delaney stilled, head cocked to the side as though she were considering something. She suddenly turned to face her querier and Daria almost gasped at the strange expression of the girl's eyes; they appeared glassy and over-bright.

Delaney regarded Jane silently for a few moments, her over-bright eyes never leaving her face. Finally, she said, "Don't ask; don't tell." Abruptly she went back to preparing their breakfasts, leaving both Daria and Jane dumbstruck.

"Food," Jesse observed a minute later, appearing in the doorway and inhaling deeply. "Cool."

"As promised," Delaney said, flipping a neatly fried egg onto a piece of toast and handing it to him. "Unfortunately, I forgot to pick up some cheese. I can only pray that you forgive me."

Jesse smiled and shook his damp hair out of the way. "Thanks, Delaney," he said, devouring nearly half of the meal in one huge bite. He ambled over to the window, perching on one of the dressers as he continued to eat at a more leisurely pace.

Delaney readied another egg-on-toast and held it up just as Nick entered. "Food! Awesome," he said, taking it gratefully.

A few minutes passed in relative silence as Delaney continued cooking for the girls and the boys finished eating. "What in the world is taking Max so long?" she suddenly demanded as she served Daria and Jane their breakfasts. She crouched down to rummage in her sea-bag. "Ah! Here they are," she said, pulling out a handful of blue tin cups. "Coffee, anyone?"

Just then Max traipsed through the door, whistling, a towel wrapped around his head. He stopped just inside the door as Nick snorted and almost choked on the last bite of his toast. Jesse started to perfunctorily pound on his back, pressing his lips together to keep from smiling. Jane's shoulders were shaking with suppressed laughter. Daria's lips twitched, threatening to curl.

"What?" Max demanded. His eyes narrowed as he looked between them. "A man can't enjoy a –"

He was interrupted by a loud collective guffaw. He scowled as Nick collapsed onto the floor, gasping with giggles, quickly followed by Jane and Jesse, their faces red with mirth. "What the hell is so funny?" he snapped, stamping his foot and glaring at them. He turned when Delaney lightly tugged the towel from his bald, freshly scrubbed head.

"Nothing, Max," she soothed, handing him his share of breakfast. She tossed the towel at the trio on the floor and their laughter finally began to subside. Max stomped over to a desk chair, muttering darkly.

Jane sat up, wiping her eyes. "Where – heh – where's Trent?"

Jesse stood and extended a hand to help her up. "Waiting downstairs."

"Could you take this to him, Jesse?" Delaney asked, pointing to another egg-on-toast and a cup of coffee on the edge of her desk. She settled down with her own cup, Pouch perched on her shoulder.

"Sure," Jesse said, reaching for them, but Jane snatched them up first.

"I'll do it," she snapped, stalking from the room in a huff. Jesse and Nick exchanged an anxious glance.

"Something wrong?" Daria spoke up, staring at Jesse.

"Huh? Oh, um, yeah..." he sputtered, looking away. He resumed his seat by the window. "Trent's just in a funk today... He gets like that before auditions..."

This last was a lie and they both knew it. Trent was prone to completely forget about auditions or appointments as he'd demonstrated more times than anyone cared to remember. Daria glanced at Nick and then Max. They know it, too, she thought. They're all on edge now... Just how bad is the 'real' Trent?

Jane tromped down the stairs, grumbling the whole way. "Stupid, sulky men and their stupid, sulky ways!" She kicked open the double doors before marching through. She stopped at the edge of the curb and looked around for her brother.

"Oww... Janey..." A low groan came from behind her. She turned and saw Trent hunched over against the wall, clutching his elbow and the side of his head. "I know I pissed you off but geez!"

Jane very nearly crossed her arms but remembered the cup of hot coffee just in time. So instead she just cocked her head to the side and glared at him. "You've been talking in your sleep again," she accused.

Trent stilled, briefly, before slowly lowering his hands and slipping them into his pockets. "So?"

"So you haven't done that for years, not since you started toking." She could see that her bluntness had thrown him off. He shot a glance at her before looking away. Sweet venom dripped from her words as she scoffed, "You really think I didn't know, O-Baked-Brother-of-Mine?" She shook her head and turned toward the Tank.

Trent caught up to her before she got very far. Jane, knowing his hands weren't free, wordlessly passed him the egg-on-toast in irritation, catching him in the stomach with the side of her hand. She smirked at his 'oof' of surprise. A minute later they stopped beside the Tank and Jane watched her brother pick crumbs and a few bits of egg from his olive green shirt. She managed to cross her arms while still holding the coffee and waited while he ate his crushed egg-on-toast.

"What do you want from me, Janey?" Trent asked when he was finished. He didn't look at her.

"What the hell, Trent! 'What do I want from you?' What makes you – ah, dammit!" Jane hissed in pain as a bit of coffee sloshed onto her wrist. Trent reached out but she turned away, still cursing. She caught a look at him out of the corner of her eye and paused. He was leaning against the Tank's neighboring car, an unlit cigarette between his fingers. His face was turned away from her but she could see the tightness in his jaw, in his shoulders.

What did she want? What did she expect? She sighed as she turned back to him and held out the coffee. "Just... tell me why."

Trent eyed the cup warily. Jane raised her brows and narrowed her eyes, a look that said, Maybe I did poison it but you won't know until you take it! He took it. "It was easy," he said, shrugging and taking a sip. "Everything's easy when you don't care."

"Fair enough," Jane conceded. "But I meant: why have you stopped?"

Trent stared at the steaming liquid in his hand, he studied the blue and white speckled paint. "...Now I care." He finally looked up at her after tucking the cigarette behind an ear. "I'm sorry I gave you such a hard time about BFAC, Janey."

Jane blinked in surprise before waving it off. "You already apologized for that, Trent."

"I know. But I never told you how – how proud I am of you. That you got there... on your own..." His ebony eyes were bright with truth; they shone with pride... and shame.

"Daria made me do it!" Jane blurted, trying to cover that shame with her own fault.

"...Well," he said on a dark chuckle, draining the last of the coffee. "Daria did a better job of looking out for you than I did."

"Trent..." She reached for her brother, hearing, feeling the guilt in his words. She touched his shoulder, almost pulling back when she felt the bunched muscles quivering with suppressed emotion. "You tried."

He arched a brow at her, his mouth curving derisively as he shook his head. The message was clear: No, I really didn't.

Her hold on his shoulder tightened. "Well, you're trying now. And that's all that matters."

For a moment longer, he simply stared at her. The self-derision slowly melted from his features. He placed his own hand over her, his calloused fingers curling around her wrist.

Jane smiled. "You know what I think? I think this is a huggy moment!" She pulled her hand free only to step close and thread her arms around his body. She heard the low rumble of his laugh as he returned the embrace. "I'm glad you're my brother, Trent," she murmured into his chest, the sudden unshed tears in her voice betraying just how serious she was. "I really am."

Trent felt his heart constrict. How long had it been since he'd heard that little-girl voice? How long had she been holding in those tears? Too long, he thought, tightening his hold on her. He pressed a brotherly kiss to her temple and vowed to never stop trying from this point on.

He had a lot of lost time to make up for.

Upstairs, three faces peered out of a second-story window.

"What are they doing?" Jesse asked, raising on tiptoe to get a better look. "Who won?"

"Move your fat head, Max!" Nick snapped. "We can't see from this angle."

"Up yours, Nick! I do not have a – Oh, look!" Max cried, pointing. "They're hugging! Everything's gonna be okay!"

Jesse and Nick high-fived over the drummer's head before turning back to the window. Behind them, Daria and Delaney exchanged amused looks.