No-one recovers from the disease of being born, a deadly wound if ever there was one. - E. M. Cioran
~lalaLAlala~
Daria looked at the book list that had been handed out to every student in the class. They were supposed to pick one of the texts, analyse it, and submit a report on its moral intention. There was not one book on that list she hadn't read before, and while she could have spoken up... she decided to just pick one to re-read. If she told O'Neill she'd read all of those books, there were two likely results. Option one: she'd get to pick a different book that wasn't on the list. Option two: she'd be given a special assignment. Either way, it would draw attention to her, and she'd just as soon avoid that from the man.
In fact, she'd as soon never be in the same room with him at all, but he was one of her teachers, so it was unavoidable to a certain extent.
It had been a while since she'd read Scott's Ivanhoe, and it had all sorts of complex moral undertones – and, for that matter, overtones – so she'd go with that.
~lalaLAlala~
"Daria," Helen called softly as she knocked on her eldest daughter's door.
"Come in."
"I was wondering... well, you've been old enough to for a little while now, and you haven't asked your father or me for driving lessons," Helen said as she moved to sit next to Daria on her bed. "You do intend to go for your licence, don't you?"
"Yeah," Daria answered. "You'll find the bill for the test in the next statement on Dad's Green Card. I'm getting tested on Friday."
"What?!" Helen asked, surprised and confused. "But... Daria?"
"Trent taught me to drive while Jane was proving herself to Ms Morris on the Track Team," Daria explained. "That's where I was all those afternoons."
"But... why didn't you ask us to teach you?" Helen queried.
"Because Trent was determined that, as an apology for not knowing to get me a birthday present for the last two years he's known me, he would teach me," Daria replied matter-of-factly. "I know that most modern cars aren't arranged the same way as the seventy-three Plymouth Satellite, but I can work my way through gear-changes smoothly, I can parallel park and reverse park without damaging anything, and Trent even taught me some of the basic mechanics after the first time his car overheated from having been running too long."
"That... that's wonderful Daria," Helen admitted, "and a very thoughtful thing Trent did for you."
"I know," Daria agreed. "And I can't even pay him back, because it was done under the heading of 'birthday present'. Oh yeah, can I have money for contacts?" Daria requested.
Helen's eyes shot wide open. "You want contacts?"
It was understandable that she'd seek clarification. She'd tried before to get Daria to try contacts, but she'd resisted fiercely. The glasses were part of Daria's identity.
"No," Daria admitted. "But I kind of need them for driving. Much as I like my glasses, I don't see far out to the side too well. The frames kind of block the view. Contacts, much as I dislike the idea of putting anything directly onto my eyeballs, would rectify this."
"Oh, Daria!" Helen exclaimed happily.
"They will only been worn while driving," Daria informed her mother sternly.
"Yes, yes, of course," Helen agreed. "I'll make an appointment with the optician right away. We can make sure your current prescription is up to date at the same time."
"Thank you."
~lalaLAlala~
"I know it's not why you got the contacts," Trent said when Daria climbed into his car and took off her glasses. "But Daria? You look good without the glasses. I mean, you looked good with the glasses, but, you know..."
Daria blushed and adjusted the rear-view mirror so she could actually put said contacts in. An act that was somewhat painful, but the optician had promised that, as long as she was doing it right, it was something she'd get used to within the week. Since she also would only be wearing her contacts for short periods of time (well, unless she was designated driver for a road-trip across the country), she wouldn't have to worry about the lenses being in for so long that they became irritating.
"The glasses are still me though," Daria countered with a small smile.
"Yeah, I know," Trent agreed. "You wear your glasses like I wear my rings and piercings. They're an intrinsic part of your identity, and screw the world if they don't like it, right?"
"Right."
"Doesn't change that by removing the glasses it's easier to see just how pretty your face really is," Trent complimented with a smile.
Daria blushed a little brighter, and her smile grew just a tiny bit. "Thanks," she said softly, and returned the rear-view mirror to its proper angle.
"Well, pedal to the metal, you've got a driving test to pass," Trent declared.
Daria shook her head. "Jane had to get something from her locker," she said.
"Oh, right," Trent agreed with a wince. "I can't believe I forgot about Janey."
"I won't tell," Daria promised with a slight smile.
"Thanks for waiting for me!" Jane called as she hurried up to the old Plymouth. "I managed to get a genuine horse skull, cleaned and bleached, from Andrea for only five bucks!"
"What are you going to do with a horse skull?" Trent asked with an arched eyebrow.
"Esoteric sculpture," Jane answered simply. "Maybe something to base the next Spiral CD cover on, perhaps?" she suggested. "Depending on what songs go onto the album of course."
Trent smiled. "Cool," he said.
"Okay, I'm taking you both to Casa Lane, then borrowing the car for my driver's test," Daria summarised. "Thanks for that, by the way."
"No problem."
"I still can't believe you're getting your licence already," Jane chirped happily. "When did you get in all the driving practice?"
"When you were getting in all that running practice," Daria answered.
Jane winced at the reminder, and turned to Trent. "Thanks for being there bro," she said softly.
Trent nodded. "Daria's cool," he said. "It was fun hanging out."
Jane smiled slightly, gratified that her absence had been suitably taken advantage of by those nearest and dearest to her. Jesse came third. It was a close third, but third all the same. That month of getting to sketch him in various poses and states of 'shirtless' had been both very productive and very trying. Jesse was a great model, he was, Jane just had to remind herself that if she stared overly-long at some part of him, she had to make sure that the corresponding area of her sketch was detailed enough to warrant that amount of staring.
When Daria returned to Casa Lane, it was with her driver's licence, and there was a cake waiting for her to celebrate the occasion. Upon presentation of the little piece of plastic to her parents at the dinner table, Jake and Helen directed conversation what sort of car Daria might want to get. Of course, her wants and wishes were going to be limited by budget and availability. For example, there was no way she was going to be getting a brand new Porsche or Rolls Royce. There was neither the money for such a purchase, nor a local dealership.
~lalaLAlala~
"And so, the democratic party came to be associated with the, quote-unquote, welfare state, and the republican party with a more Darwinian approach," Mr DeMartino said. Teaching high school students history (including political history) was clearly a waste of his history/sociology double major and doctorate. The man was much too passionate to teach the intellectually backward and the truly apathetic.
"Which do you favour?" he demanded of the class, and scanned his eye across the room.
Daria liked Mr DeMartino as a teacher. His notes on the board made sense, he knew his stuff, and while he had some issues (barely restrained temper, and apparently a glutton for punishment as he continued to call on Kevin to give answers), he really was one of the best teachers in the school.
As such, before the man could call on Kevin in the vain hope that, this time, he might have some idea of what was actually being discussed in class, she raised her hand.
"Daria," DeMartino called, a small amount of the tension draining from his shoulders, and his eye mercifully not straining in its socket.
"While I do appreciate certain benefits that come with living in a country that offers welfare, I also believe that if the people who were too stupid to keep themselves employed died off due to lack of government support, then we would have a stronger nation today," she offered.
"Thank you Daria," Mr DeMartino said, and might have continued, but he caught Kevin asking Brittany a question.
"Darwin's the monkey guy, right?"
"I don't think so," Brittany answered softly with a shrug. She hadn't been dating Kevin for a while now, and generally spoke to him in a calm, semi-detached manner when she had to speak to him at all.
"Thank you Brittany," DeMartino said, rounding on the pair of them. "No, Kevin, Darwin is not 'the monkey guy'!"
"Good morning students!" Ms Li called as she entered the room.
"Ah, Ms Li," DeMartino started. "I wonder if I might -"
"Forget it," she said quickly, cutting the man off. "I've already told you, no staff resignations while class is in session."
DeMartino grumbled and ground his teeth, and Ms Li turned to the class.
"Students! Aren't we a bunch of lucky so-and-so's," she said, with a pointed glance at Mr DeMartino. "With all that this great land has given us, should we think about giving back? Just a little?" she asked them. "So, as part of the school district's first annual 'awareness of others' week, I am asking each Lawndale High student to sign up for an extra curricular activity," and it was clearly actually an order, not a request. "To make the world a better place," she finished pleasantly.
Only, she wasn't finished.
"One-hundred percent participation will earn m- us," she caught herself quickly. They were clearly not the first class she'd stepped in to give this speech to. "- special recognition from the superintendent of schools. Now, I want all of you to go out there and make the school look good! Resume learning!" she called, and then walked out the door. No doubt off to give the same speech to the next classroom full of impressionable minds.
"Class," DeMartino said. "Dare I ask if anyone can relate this appeal for volunteer-ism to the political philosophies we've been discussing today? Brittany?" he asked, not hoping for much, but she'd been doing better in his class since she'd stopped dating Kevin, so he hoped for at least a little bit.
"Um..." Brittany frowned as she tried to figure it out. "It's... helping other people for their sakes, rather than your own?" she guessed. "That's, um, the... welfare?"
DeMartino looked ready to believe that there really was a God, and that He did watch over and care about him. "Yes, Brittany," he said. "Well done."
"Because, welfare is putting together the words 'well' and 'fare', and being fair is everybody getting the same chances, and being well is another way of saying that you're not sick!" Brittany chirped.
It seemed DeMartino suddenly became less certain about there being a caring, divine presence, but... "If... if that is how you will be able to remember it," he grit out. "It is not, I suppose wholly inaccurate, and will do for now."
Brittany smiled brightly.
~lalaLAlala~
"I really do think people should volunteer for causes because they believe in them," Daria said as she and Jane headed for the sign-up sheets. "Not because it will make the school look good."
"And yet, we are going straight to the boards, rather than procrastinating the action," Jane noted.
"Yes," Daria agreed. "Because if we get there before the lists are full, we may actually be able to sign up for something we believe in at the same time as being forced to make the school look good."
"That makes sense," Jane allowed. "Hey! An arts and crafts class at the children's ward at the hospital," she said, and pointed to the appropriate sheet.
"Calling Jane Lane," Daria remarked with a smirk.
"Care to go with?" Jane offered as she started looking for a pen. "There's plenty of spots, since we got here early."
Daria took a moment to scan the other options available, and smirked. "There is a total of one position going, playing soothing music in the halls of the mental ward," she declared. "The only people I'd have to interact with are the staff, and they'll just tell me where to sit down, and when I can go."
Jane smirked back. "That is right up your ally," she agreed, and passed over her pen once she'd put her name down for arts and crafts with hospitalised kiddies.
~lalaLAlala~
Jane really got into the arts and crafts with the kids, and Daria quickly became very popular with the nursing staff of the mental ward. Apparently, the mental patients all became much more manageable while she played in the hallways. So much more manageable, in fact, that the staff were reluctant to let her go.
One even went so far as to beg for a recording of the ten minute long lullaby Daria had composed, to play when they were trying to get the patients to settle down in the evenings.
"If you provide a blank CD when I come tomorrow, then I'll have that piece of music on it for you when I come back for day three," Daria answered sympathetically.
Really, these were the nurses that had it the toughest. They had to deal with cleaning up after a grown woman who had emptied her bowels in her bedclothes, and if it was a good day, then that was the worst they had to deal with.
When she left the psyche ward, Daria headed up to the paediatrics ward to see how Jane was going – day one, and they'd already turned the balloon-holding clowns on the walls into mace-wielding Mongol invaders, after having made voodoo dolls of the various staff.