The Last Waltz
By Ruthless Bunny
Daria opened the bag of corn chips and smelled the familiar smell. "Aye, aye, aye iiii, I am the Frito Bandito..."she sang as she spread them on the bottom of the Pyrex casserole. She put a couple in her mouth and continued to cook. Next, the cheese. She layered the ingredients on, just like she remembered.
Quinn came through the back door. "I don't believe it. You're really doing it!" She scooped up Joyce and snatched a couple of cheese curls for her. The cat appreciated the thought, but glanced longingly at the counter in hopes of more.
"Look in the fridge," Daria instructed.
Quinn did as she was told and squealed, "You have it all! Where did you find the bottles?"
Daria finished the dish and put it in the oven to heat. "There's a store by campus that has them. They were a fortune, but worth every penny."
Quinn shook her head, "Frito Pie and Dr. Pepper, it's just like Texas..." her nose wrinkled involuntarily.
"Without idiots, uranium in the water and hot and cold running gun racks. I do miss some stuff though." She wiped the counters carefully.
"Like WHAT? Seriously, it was a dump and I was happy to get out of it." Quinn held the garbage can up to the granite counter for her.
Daria thought for a moment. "Frito Pie and Dr. Pepper. And speaking of dumps, Dump Cake."
"Shut up!" Quinn squealed with pleasure, 'that's quite a feast. So who else is coming to dinner? That was a huge dish." She flipped through her mail.
"Mike, Joe and Jane."
"Mike?" Quinn took a lipstick out of her purse and applied it.
"Yeah. What's the problem?"
"Nothing. Mike's nice." She blotted and reapplied some perfume.
"You like him." Daria challenged her to deny it.
"So? Is there a law against it? I like a lot of guys." She tried to be nonchalant, but it just didn't work for her.
"No you don't. A lot of guys like you. So you like Mike? That's interesting." She smiled to herself.
"Stop it. Stop looking all smug. So I like a guy. The world won't come to an end." She waited a second before adding, "so when does he get here?"
"Six. He doesn't like to eat late. Help me set the table."
Quinn took the plates out of the cabinet, then the flatware out of the drawer. "Paper or cloth napkins?" she asked as she piled everything on the stack of plates.
Daria was washing up at the sink. "Paper, let's not give the boy a swelled head." She pitched a chunk of unshredded cheese at the cat.
Joyce loved cheese, but she refused to perform like a dog. She made a big show of sniffing at the cube, evaluating it and sequencing its DNA. When she was finished, she delicately nibbled at it.
Quinn, finished with setting the table, returned to the kitchen for a glass of water. Mike burst in through the back door. "Oh JU-U-U-NE! I'm home!"
Daria blinked at him. Quinn smiled. His shoulders sank.
"Daria, your line is 'In here Ward!" He dropped his bag and rooted in the cabinets for a glass.
"I didn't realize I had a line," Daria explained, reaching up to the place where glasses had always been kept in the kitchen.
"Well, you do. Didn't you watch old TV shows when you were a kid?" He filled it with tap water while a horrified Quinn watched.
"We have filtered water in the fridge," she offered.
"Nah. This is fine. Been drinking it my whole life." He gulped the glass down, leaving it empty on the counter. "I'll just use that one tonight. No sense in dirtying up two of them. So June, how was your day? Are you worried about the Beaver?" He picked up Joyce, who circled his legs, and stroked her.
"Just mopped the floor in pearls, played bridge with the girls and stifled my creativity. How was your day?"
"Well, I have news. It's official. I'm in the draft. Next year I'll be playing in the NHL." He waited for the sisters to get hysterically happy for him. They smiled pleasantly at him. "I also have a favor to ask. I guess I need to ask a favor of you too Princess," he said to Quinn.
"What's the favor?" Daria asked as she wiped the counter.
"Well, life at the house has become...hectic. I need to get away from the phone, the guys and I need somewhere to..." he tried to finish the sentence.
"Hide?"
"Well, if you insist on putting like that. Yeah, I need to hide. Come on Daria, no funny stuff. I can't go to my house; my brothers can't keep their mouths shut. I can't stay with the guys; they're just acting stupid. Frankly, I need a place where I can focus on finals, and where the phone isn't ringing off the hook with reporters and lawyers and other disreputable types. Quinn, you understand. Right?"
Quinn shrugged, but looked to Daria for her cue. Daria nodded. "Sure. You can stay here. I guess in Trent's room?" Again, Daria was consulted visually, again, a nod. "Just don't tell anyone where you are. I don't want my lawn trampled by some local news van."
"Yeah, and no late night crap. I like it quiet." Daria checked on the casserole, smiling slightly at the bubbling cheese.
"I promise. I get up early to skate, so I need my beauty rest too. You guys are great. I'll get you tickets any time you want them. You're the BEST!" He grabbed them up in a bear hug.
Quinn blushed. "Oh Mike, stop! You're a friend of the family."
"Thanks Princess. That's good to know. So when do we eat? I'm starving!"
"Gee Ward, were you born in a barn? We have to wait for Millie and Jerry to show up. They should be here any minute." The sound of slamming car doors confirmed it. "Take the salad into the dining room please." Daria decided to wait until later to decide how she felt about Mike moving in.
***
Jesse spoke quietly with Sofia in the back of the bus. Nick and Max were watching 'Meatballs' on the VCR. For the third time. 'There's a reason we haven't seen this since the seventh grade,' he thought. He stared out of the bus at the scenery. Trent noticed a few crosses along the road. 'Yeah. That about sums it up.' He had been depressed since the first time the tour had been extended. That was six weeks ago. They kept adding cities, venues, dates. Trent felt like he lived on this bus. He looked out through the front window, decorated not with fringe made of yarn, but with fringe pained directly onto the windows with white paint. This was supposed to be the last stop. Mexico City. The big one. Three dates, then home. Not just home, the US, but home to Daria.
Finally, the farmland gave way to the city. They traveled through the suburbs; streets became populated, dotted with advertising, stores and guys selling ice cream out of small refrigerated carts. They spent an hour in traffic before they finally got to the hotel. Thank goodness it was a good hotel, not some fleabag. But even so, being on the road meant living out of a suitcase, doing laundry in the sink and eating yet another hamburgesa from room service. He had promised Nick that he would share the room with him. Let Jesse deal with Max for a change.
Sofia had gone up to her room and Jesse motioned to Trent that they should go to the lounge. Everyone else went up to shower and unpack.
Jesse asked the bartender to bring beers, "You know Trent, this has been amazing. We're selling out stadiums. Did you ever, really think that we'd be this famous?"
Trent shook his head. "No. Not like this. Remember back when we were kids? We saw ourselves doing this..." how to say this? "We were doing it in English."
"So? What's the difference?" Jesse flicked the lime wedge on the bar and watched it spin.
"I always saw myself out front, singing my songs. Don't take this the wrong way, but it seem weird that you're the one..." Trent shrugged, he looked jealous and petty.
"No, I understand. We've always had it where you're lead. I guess it must be weird having me doing the singing in Spanish. Does it bother you that I'm the one they're focusing on?"
Trent sipped and thought, "I don't really care that you're the star of the group, it's not that. I just feel like the Mystic Spiral sound has been perverted somehow. We're not really doing grunge or alternative, we're just a roughed up version of Menudo. Jesse, now you're the heart of the band. If Nick and Max and I left the group, it wouldn't matter; you could replace us with other guys and it would still be Mystic Spiral. While it's great performing I don't feel like this crowd gets Mystic Spiral. They're just here to see you. I can live without that. I hate being on the road, especially in Mexico. I miss Daria, I miss home."
Jesse nodded. "I feel like every dream I ever had about music has come true. I'm moving to Miami when we get back. There's no point in Boston any more. What are you going to do?"
"Move to Miami? Are you doing that to be closer to Sofia?" Trent couldn't think of any other reason.
Jesse avoided looking at Trent, "no, there's more to it than that. My career is focused here, in Mexico and Latin America. If I'm going to build on this, I've got to be where the industry is. I've got a real estate agent looking for a condo for me on South Beach. Sure, it'll be great to be near Sofia, but right now, I'm concentrating on my music."
Trent shook his head, "Your music? When did this become your music?"
"You knew what we were doing when we signed up. If you didn't want to do it, why did you come along?" Jesse caught the attention of the bartender who brought over two more beers.
"I've been asking myself that question every day and every night for the past three months. I think that it just seemed like the next logical step. When you work as a musician you start to believe that the goal is to be rich and famous. We played clubs and made a living, but there's supposed to more to it than that. So we're grabbing at every opportunity, including this opportunity. If I'm really, really honest, I think I knew that I didn't want to do this even before we all agreed to it. I just kept thinking about Max and his family. Nick wanted a chance to make some money. You really wanted it. Me, I went along because I was expected to. I didn't want to be the one standing in everyone else's way. Jesse, I know that we always promised each other that we'd stay together, but I think that this is as good a time as any for me to bail out. After this gig, I just want to go home." Trent waited to see if his friend understood.
"Wow. So you'd leave Mystic Spiral? After all this time, right when we've got everything?"
"That's just it, we may have everything, except that I don't have anything that I want. What's the point of all this fame when you can't enjoy it? I was a lot happier when I was playing gigs at the pub and coming home to Daria."
"We're not going to be on the road forever. We're going home in less than a week. Then we can relax and spend some of the money we've been earning. I think you should wait until after we get home before you make any big decisions."
"No. Jess, it's been too long. If there was even a part of this that I liked, I'd see what you were saying, but there's nothing. Even the gigs are impersonal. There's no one here who cares about me or what I think or what I want."
"Hey, I care."
"I'm not judging you, but you know me, you know that I don't like this kind of stuff. I know you want what's best for me, and since this is all that we've been talking about since we were kids, it's easy to assume that it's what I want. I've changed. I've been changing, or maybe I never changed. When we talked about being successful, I always imagined us playing for money. That was as far as it got. You were the one with the stadium dreams. Me, I just wanted to sing for a living. My big dream now is to go home, eat a plate of Daria's spaghetti and to try to solve the puzzle on Wheel of Fortune." Trent sighed; it really was all he wanted.
"I wish I could understand that. We worked so hard and we got what we worked for. I guess the guys and I will go on without you. Does it make me a bad person if I ask if we can still use the name Mystic Spiral?"
Trent laughed, "No Man, that's perfect. I never liked the name anyway.
***
Somehow the girls were in the kitchen, talking and wiping up, while the guys were in the living room watching ESPN.
"Daria, why are you letting them off the hook?" Jane asked as she stacked the plates in the dishwasher.
She shrugged, "I guess I just don't care enough to make a big deal. Technically, since you are the guests, I should be here alone and you all should be watching Sports Center."
"Yeah, well, if those are my choices..." Jane rearranged the glasses on the top shelf.
"So Daria, when is Trent coming back? I mean, if Mike is going to be living here, in Trent's room, won't there be a conflict or something?" Quinn asked as she reached into the cabinet.
Jane's head whipped around, "Mike's moving in here?"
"Just temporarily. Something about the draft and how it's really crazy at his house. He just wants peace and quiet." Quinn topped off Joyce's Meow Mix.
"Bullshit." Jane stated emphatically.
"Pardon me?" Daria adjusted her glasses, which had traveled down her nose.
"You heard me. Bullshit. Mike doesn't need sanctuary. What's really going on here?" Jane's arms were akimbo on her hips, clearly challenging Daria.
Daria blushed. She couldn't honestly deny that Mike was trying to get closer to her, but on the surface, the story was that he needed a place to stay.
"Daria?" Quinn stared at her sister. "How could you let me go on like that when you knew...?" Quinn blushed too, but with anger not embarrassment.
"Isn't this typical? Jesus Daria, what do you do, spin a web and wait for them?" Jane picked up a dishtowel, decided not to wipe the counter, and threw it back down, for effect.
"Hey, you're not being fair." Daria honestly didn't expect such a negative reaction. "So he likes me. It's not like it's going to go anywhere. I told him that. He's my friend, what harm is it going to do for him to stay here for a week or so?"
"Fair? You've got a nerve talking to me about fairness." Jane huffed.
"Are you ever going to get over that? Seriously, do I have to apologize for the rest of my life?"
"If you're lucky. Look, boyfriend stealing, or snagging or rebounding or whatever you want to call it, is low rent. Everyone knows that Daria...except you. But I forgave you. I promise Daria, if this goes where I think we all know it's going, and you hurt Trent, I'll not only never forgive you for that, I'll retroactively un-forgive you for going out with Tom. We won't be friends." Jane's face had clouded over; her scowl could be felt like a cold front from Canada.
Quinn explained, with her usual clarity. "Daria, we all thought that maybe you really were too dumb about relationships to know that by dating Tom that you automatically would lose Jane as a friend. We just thought you were the luckiest girl ever born that Jane didn't dump you when you kissed him. But seriously, you don't expect me to believe that you don't know that if Mike likes you and you let him move in here, that you aren't encouraging him."
"Encouraging him? Remember Sis, you were the one who encouraged him. Not me. It's your house." Daria spit the words out angrily.
"Daria, I was encouraging him to spend time with me!" Quinn shook her head sadly, as though Daria had deeply disappointed her.
"Nothing is going on here." Daria rolled her eyes.
"Right. Nothing. That's how you square it with yourself, is it?" Jane paced as she spoke, "that's always your story. You didn't start it. You have the best intentions. Daria, that's shit. You know what's going on. By not actively discouraging them, you give them permission. You got in the car with Tom. You let Trent live with you in the dorm. Give me a break; you couldn't be more clear about what you want if you had it printed on a T-shirt." Jane sighed with exasperation.
"So what are you saying?" Daria waived a wooden spoon wildly.
"I'm saying that you're probably lonely without Trent around and that you like the fact that Mike likes you. I'm saying that one night, you and Mike will be sitting on the sofa, and you'll do that cutesy 'June and Ward' thing, and the next thing you know, you'll be kissing him and wondering how you're going to explain it to Trent. Oh, and if you try to make it into some big drama where you're the injured party, I promise you Daria, I'll come after you with a rusty rake."
"So you have a crystal ball do you? I'll have you know that Trent and I are serious." Daria looked at the floor.
Jane balled up her fists. The volume on the TV in the other room rose. "Right. So you finally slept with him. You think that's going to make a difference? I don't know what's going on in your head, but you are playing with fire here. You know what you're problem is? You are so unpleasant that if anyone likes you, in spite of your shitty attitude, that you are automatically giving them the keys to your kingdom." Jane got down dessert plates and put them next to the cake.
"I'm unpleasant?" Daria blinked, "that's so harsh."
Quinn interrupted. "But hardly a newsflash. Daria, I think we'll acknowledge that you've had an opportunity to really broaden your horizons at Raft, but at heart, you're really nasty. But I think it's just because you want to reject people before they reject you." Quinn tried to soften the blow.
"Et tu, Quinn?"
"Me? You're asking ME? My whole life you've done nothing but try to bring me down. It was like my existence threatened yours. When we were little you tried to give me to the postman. When I asked for your help with my homework you deliberately gave me the wrong answers. If I tried to include you with my friends, you made fun of them and of me. Finally, I get the hint, and I act like we aren't related and even then, you go out of your way to sabotage my friendships. You know, it's only because I know, deep down, that you love me that I kept on trying to get to your level. Finally, I think that we're at that stage where we can be friends, and then..." a tear fell down Quinn's cheek, "I confided in you and you just waited to crush me again."
"Now wait a minute. I did not ever try to crush you. You're the one who was always so successful. You were the stuck up nightmare. You always rubbed my nose in your popularity." Daria too, was close to tears, but from years of practice, she was able to control the impulse.
"A dog can only be kicked so many times before it learns to bite back." Quinn shook her head, her voice lowering in sadness.
Jane shoved Quinn aside. "Oh, all right, that's enough of this pity party. We're not here to resurrect scenes from your sibling rivalry, frankly, you guys are both much easier to take when you're friendly with each other." Jane turned her attention to her friend, "Daria, seriously, if you let Mike stay here you are giving him the green light. There's no other interpretation. So what is it? Are you going to break up with Trent?"
"NO! I'm not breaking up with Trent. I'm not going to go out with Mike. I'm just helping a friend."
Jane was unmoved. "Daria, don't be naive. Mike knows exactly what he's doing. He's a strategist. You're not stupid, so what exactly do you think is happening? What's the story you're telling yourself that makes this all okay?"
Daria thought for a moment. She looked at Jane, whose foot tapped quietly with annoyance. She looked at Quinn, blotting her tears with a paper towel. "You're right. You are one hundred percent right. I know that Mike is trying to move in, and I don't know how to keep him as a friend but to turn him down as a boyfriend. So what do I do?"
Jane smiled her approval. "Okay, now you're being honest. It's not so hard. You know, it's okay to ask for help."
Quinn powdered her face and took a deep breath. "Daria, if you ever find yourself in this kind of situation, you can always come to me."
Daria looked between her sister and her friend. "Okay, so consider yourselves officially consulted."
Jane smiled, "Good, you're in luck. I'll solve your problem right now." She turned her head and screamed, "Joe!" The volume on the television had reached a critical level; she tried again, "JOE!"
Joe poked his head around the corner, "you rang?"
"Yes. Turn down that television and ask Mike to come stay with you for a couple of weeks or until after the draft." She smiled.
Joe seemed confused, but amenable, "Sure. When's dessert?"
Daria held up the empty coffee carafe, "Coffee will be ready in about three minutes."
Joe nodded, "Sounds good. Hey buddy..." He disappeared back into the living room.
Quinn got the coffee out of the fridge, "and I'll take it from here."
Jane smiled, "See, it's so much better when we work together."
***
Trent looked over the bologna on white bread that passed for sandwiches in their dressing room. He decided to wait until he got back to the hotel to eat anything. Sofia was speaking quietly with Jesse; he nodded and smiled.
A group of executives from the record company were in a corner drinking rum and laughing. They were speaking Spanish, and Trent could only make out a few words, novella, Univision, and exitio. Nothing that seemed to have anything to do with Spiral de Mystico.
The rain had made the last three days interminable. Trent was packed and ready to go, even though the first flight out was the next morning. He wanted to wait overnight at the airport, but apparently there was an early morning meeting that he was required to attend. Some documents to sign. He wondered if soldiers felt the same way before being sent home from overseas. It seemed like yesterday that he was with Daria, and yet he thought that he had forgotten what her face looked like. He had to get home.
Nick seemed preoccupied. He strummed quietly. Max absently twirled his drumsticks and scratched his leg. Trent approached them. "I guess this is it. The last show of the tour." He hadn't yet told them that he planned to leave. He didn't want it to be a big deal.
Nick stopped tuning his guitar and smiled. "Last show," he said, almost as though he was trying the concept on for size. He looked away and then seemed to reconsider something. "Trent, I know we haven't talked much about what's going to come next but..."
Trent shook his head. He could not lie to Nick. He couldn't lie to anyone. He'd rather avoid the subject than force the issue, but Nick plowed ahead. "You know, I really don't like this kind of music."
Trent nodded, "Yeah, I hear you." Better not to say too much.
"Do you think it would matter if I left the group? I mean, anyone could master these chords. Besides, I think they've got a whole orchestra behind us on the album anyway." Nick didn't seem upset; he merely seemed tired.
Trent considered. "Do you want to leave the group?"
Nick became intense. "More than anything. I hate this tour. I'm tired, I'm hungry and I haven't seen a proper vegetable in over a month. I just want to get home, make a salad and sleep for a month."
"We're all tired." Trent sidestepped the issue.
"Yeah, but I'm tired to my bones of this crap. Seriously, I've been offered some session work in Nashville and I'm tempted to just go ahead and take it. At least I'll get an opportunity to really play. Not just this teeny-bopper, three-chord progression shit." He riffed a bit, almost to prove that he really could play.
"But I thought you wanted to make it big. This is pretty big." Trent indicated the party that appeared to be taking place around them.
"Yeah, but it's not the kind of big that I can appreciate. I think the time has passed for me to become Jon Bon Jovi. I'm getting too old for this. You know, at least I can say that I did it. But really, I think I could do some really good work in Nashville." He went back to fingering.
Trent laughed a bit, more out of irony than anything else. "I think we all feel that way right now."
A roar of laughter came from the other side of the room. Sofia and Jesse were enjoying a joke that one of the executives had told. Nick shook his head, "I don't think that Jesse feels this way. He's got a pretty sweet deal in all of this."
Trent agreed, "He really is the heart of the group now."
"It's not a group. We're just backing him up. You know that, right Trent?"
"Yes. I know that. I guess I don't need to pretend anymore. I'm not coming back. I'm going home to Daria. For good." Trent sat down. It felt good to say it out loud.
Nick laughed ruefully, "for what it's worth Max plans to buy a motorcycle and see America."
"We'll never see him again," Trent observed.
"Probably not."
A drop of water splattered at Trent's feet. "Rain. Perfect. This place leaks like a sieve. I wonder if we should cancel the show."
"We can't, we have a contract. Just go on and don't stand in a puddle." Nick got up and walked over to the makeshift bar. "Want a coke?"
Trent declined.
They waited in the wings while roadies mopped up the stage. As predicted, the rain pooled on the stage. Trent closed his eyes in frustration. The sooner they started, the sooner it would be over and he would be free. Finally, the moisture was deemed manageable and they took their places. Trent found his center and began to play.
After every song, Trent looked at the list. He mentally subtracted the songs as they played them. First one, then another, as he played he thought about how this would be the last time they would perform this song as a group. For five years Mystic Spiral was his job, his passion and now he was counting the minutes until he would leave it behind forever. He tried to feel melancholy about it, but he couldn't. Every note brought him closer to the end. Closer to going home.
Right after "Behind my Eyelids" the crowd chanted Jesse's name. A beach ball floated around the stadium and although the rain began to soak the audience, they didn't seem to notice. As they waited for the demonstration to die down, Trent reached over to adjust his mike and a blue spark traveled up his forearm to his elbow. He instinctively pulled back. Jesse rushed over to see if he was okay.
Trent assured him that he was, "it's okay Man. I'm fine. Let's just get this over with." He felt that the shock was a metaphor. He couldn't let Mystic Spiral just fall apart. He realized that they needed to go out with a bang. They had reached the last song. The very last song they would perform together as Mystic Spiral. It was 'Icebox Woman.' Trent decided on a last minute change. He indicated to the guys that he needed a huddle.
It only took a minute, but he worked it out with them. The whole experience, in retrospect was bittersweet. They had struggled together and they had eventually succeeded, and now, they were all going their separate ways. It wasn't bad, but it was sad in a way.
The distinctive chords resonated, and Trent found himself momentarily in the basement with the guys, working out their very first set. Covers at the time, but still tight.
I would say I'm sorry If I thought that it would change your mind...
Boys Don't Cry. And now Trent felt that he had said goodbye properly. Not just to Jesse and Nick and Max, but to his dream of rock and roll stardom. He had it, but he found that he didn't want it. There was something else. Something more. And now nothing could keep him from it.
***
Quinn knew that he would be at the campus Food Court. Daria told her that he usually had breakfast at about this time. She worked it into her schedule. She spotted him with a plate of eggs and tomatoes.
"Hi Mike, mind if I join you?" She smiled at him.
"Sure Princess. Take a load off." He indicated the seat opposite him.
Quinn unloaded her tray of oatmeal and tea. "High protein?" she asked, nodding at his meal.
"Yeah, helps me stay in shape. Low fat?" He inquired of her breakfast.
"Everyone's different. It works for me." She stirred sweetener into her cereal. "You know I came looking for you this morning."
Mike looked up from his newspaper. "You did?"
"I did. I know what you want and I think I can help you get it." She continued to eat her cereal, letting him ponder where she was going. It was fun messing with their minds sometimes.
"So you think you know what I want? Princess, I'm awfully complicated." He smiled at her.
Quinn nearly melted, his smile was devastating, but she kept her cool and continued, "I know that you like Daria." She shot him one of her smiles.
"Sure I like Daria." He forked a tomato.
"You know what I mean. Jane's territorial about her brother, and I know what you were trying to do. You want to be near Daria. Well, I want to help. I like you. I think you'd make a good addition to the family."
Mike stopped eating and looked at her. "Princess, this isn't a game. I love your sister and I want to marry her."
Quinn's heart fell a bit, but she knew that anything worth having was worth fighting for, "Okay, even better. But you need an excuse to be near her, and with Trent coming back, it's going to be harder now."
"Trent's coming back?" Mike knew that it was inevitable, but it had been nearly three months.
"He arrives late tonight. So are you interested in my plan?" Quinn speared one of his tomatoes.
"You have a plan?" He decided to indulge her. "Go ahead, I'm listening."
"Well, I need a boyfriend but I don't have time to deal with anyone seriously. So why don't you start taking me out? There's a couple of benefits. First, I don't have to be bothered with guys hitting on me; I've got a boyfriend. Secondly, you now have a reason to be at my house. You're visiting me. We can even all hang out together. Sure, you'll have to take me out alone a few times, to make it look real, but this way we both get what we want." She sipped her tea and tried to look guileless.
He ruminated. "So you want me to be your beard?"
"Beard?" Quinn had never heard the expression.
"Yeah, we pretend to be going out, but we're not really romantically involved." Mike summed up for her.
"Okay, sure. You'll be my beard and I guess I'll be yours." She finished her tea.
"I don't think so. I think I can win Daria over without your help, and I don't really have time to be your boyfriend, not even if it's just for show. You're high maintenance even when you aren't dating anyone." He tried to dismiss her.
Quinn tried not to let her annoyance seep through her voice, "Oh Mike, you're funny. I just seem high maintenance; actually I'm very easy to get along with. But with Trent back in the picture and Jane seriously on to you, I don't think you're going to have a prayer with Daria unless we hook up."
"What do you mean, Jane's 'on to' me?" He seemed alarmed.
"You know that argument we had in the kitchen the other night? Jane practically accused Daria of cheating with you and then she arranged to have Joe invite you to stay with him. Jane is very serious about protecting Trent. And now that Daria is aware of what you are doing, she's going to avoid being alone with you. So, there's a lot of stuff that's happened over the last couple of days. In all the excitement, you might have lost track of where you really stand. I guess you could do this without my help, but you've got to ask yourself, 'do I feel lucky?' Well? Do you...Mike?" Quinn smiled again, this time she meant business.
He thought about it. He quickly went over his plan. He had accounted for Trent's return, but he hadn't accounted for Daria being on guard, and now she was. He considered Quinn. He looked at her. He liked her well enough, but he didn't know if he wanted to take her out. He sighed, sometimes, even the best strategy had to be modified. "Princess, you've got a deal. Let's see if we can't make something happen here. I've got to go to class, but call me at Joe's and I'll take you for a pizza and we can discuss how this is going to work." He wrote his number on a napkin for her.
"Great. I'll call you." She carefully put it in her satchel and drummed her fingers on the table. As he disappeared into the crowd she let the smile fade. "This is going to be serious work."