Okay, this is just plain weird.
I'm staring at blackness, I'm in blackness, and I have no body. I could be a pair of floating eyeballs for all I know. Floating eyeballs? Hmm... gives me an idea for song lyrics... But I can't move my arms to grab a notepad, because I have no body here. Man, this sucks.
Hello, darkness. I am Trent Lane. Where the hell am I?
...Okay, that's creepy. Am I in hell?
I can't really think of how I got into a place like this. I mean, one minute I'm in a place full of light and colour and people, and next I'm suddenly plunged into this darkness. No immediate memory pangs... yet.
Whoa, I think I can feel something happening now, actually-- whoa! Colour! Corridor with lots of doors. Too many doors, but at least there's floor beneath me now. And I've got a body! Hurrah!
...What the hell am I wearing? Weird white shirt. Whatever.
Take a step, Lane. Good. Now take another.
Is this a dream? Funny. I don't get a lot of dreams I can walk around in after telling myself to. Plus, the floor feels pretty solid, and the colours aren't blurred, nor are the lines edgeless. Everything looks real enough. Hmmm. Edgeless... oh yeah, no notepad.
Only something deep inside is telling me that this isn't reality. I mean, how can I just land up from darkness into a place like this? There's something behind these doors that will help answer me, but I'm not entirely sure what I'm even asking. Besides the obvious 'Where am I?' bit.
None of the doors look interesting. They're all dull and boring. Oh, actually, I can see one that's really different. It's covered with vibrant pulsings of purple. Purple for passion, was it? Hmm... I don't know if this situation can get any weirder, now that I've discovered these little plague things with these tiny inscriptions next to each door.
For this purple one, it says, 'When Mystik Spiral Formed'.
Okay, let me take a guess at where I am. I'm in my own head and I'm travelling down memory lane. Literally. With no notebook! Man, that sucks. But it's weird enough, I guess, to be travelling in my own conciousness. Unconciousness. Whatever.
I'm not going into that room. I *know* how the Spiral was formed, and I don't need a recap on that... Brr... Okay, onto the next doors. Boring. Boring. Boring. Bo--... Oooh, here's one coloured in yellow. Nice, sunshine yellow. And the plaque says...?
'Janey'. This must be when I stuck the nickname onto Janey - that's when I started to really love her as a sister, if I can recall properly. That was sometime while I was camped out. I don't want to check that one - it'll be overflowing with sap, and I don't think I need that now... I sort of want to know what I'm doing in my head instead of being 'out there'.
Hey, it's better to believe that and stick to it than think it's all a kooky dream. Uh, who am I talking to, exactly? Myself. That's right. Ugh... whatever. Just keep talking and walking, Trent, and you'll eventually end up somewhere... talking in your head while in your head? Whatever...
Huh. This door's grey. That's kind of weird. The plaque says, 'Thwack'. Thwack? The hell? Okay, this just might be worth opening for the sake of curiousity. No rush, really. Yow! The handle is actually cold! That's so weird. Am't I in my head? Oh well... just open it, Trent, and see what happens...
Pushing the metal down now... the grey edge crawls away from in a long and loud creak, and-- whoa, more blackness.
...Something tells me, I've got to take a step into the dark to see this memory. Well, here goes...
The air-conditioner blasted out cold air, and Trent entered the kitchen humming Icebox Woman. Pulling out the second to last of sodas in the refrigerator, he settled down in a chair by the table, feeling refreshed under the air-con.
Sipping his can of soda, Trent greeted Jane with a wave as she entered the house.
"Back from running so soon?"
He asked.
"Actually, I didn't go running,"
Jane said casually, taking out another can of soda from the refrigerator. The she scowled.
"Now I've emptied the thing. Damn."
"Then where'd you go?"
Trent asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Ate a burger with a friend,"
She said quickly. Trent raised an eyebrow. Another date? But she just broke up with Calvin last month, he thought, his annoyance evident on his face. Jane noticed, and laughed.
"Oh, no, Trent, this is different. It's a girl."
His eyes widened considerably, his jaw dropping open as he set out his drink.
"A g-girl?! Y-you mean--"
He was abruptly cut off by Jane's outburst of laughter.
"No, no, I've got a *friend*, Trent. Just a friend."
He looked relieved for a few seconds, relaxing, before raising an eyebrow again in question.
"You've got a friend now?"
"Yup. She recognises that the depth of Lawndale is about three inches. Perfect partner in crime."
Trent was surprised. Jane sounded genuinely pleased about her friend. In his opinion, Janey was a great person, but she didn't really need friends... but on the other hand, Janey probably had girl-talk she'd never talk to him about...
"This is a good thing, right?"
Trent asked out loud, both to Jane and himself. Jane grinned.
"I think you'll like her. She's a cool girl. Her sarcasm hits the roof, though."
"Like you're not cynical."
Trent retorted, returning to his drink.
"You haven't met Daria Morgendorffer,"
Was Jane's reply as she headed off towards the living room, leaving Trent to think.
This was the first time Jane actually sounded serious about having a friend since fourth grade. He'd always thought that he'd be the only person for his sister; the supportive brother *and* close friend. And now she had another friend...
Hey, stop being selfish, he told himself.
Hmm... He only hoped 'Daria' was truly worthy of being Janey's friend.
As he sauntered out to the living room to join his sister, he was met with the sight of her rolling her eyes as she held a phone to her ear.
"Yeah, but wouldn't Ms. Defoe sort of notice the resemblance between his hair and ice-cream?"
Trent suddenly realised that he had no freaking idea what Jane was talking about... but the person on the other end, most likely 'Daria', did. And they were relating to each in mutual conversation.
The realisation that Jane wouldn't always only be his thwacked Trent harder than any guitar would have over the head.
Yow. That one hurt.
Was that when I first heard about Daria? And now my bum hurts since I've just been sent skidding across the floor.
Okay, so this *is* my own memory lane, and I really am walking around in my sub-conciousness. Unconciousness. Whatever.
What am I doing here?
Hmm... oh, I get it now. That's the whole point - that I have no idea what I'm doing here. Because I have no recollection of any memories immediately before I woke up in blackness. Which would mean... I've been sent to my memory lane to discover what I'm doing here.
I've just realised what a horrible pun it is... 'memory lane', 'Trent Lane'... I guess I could always say it if I wanted to make Daria or Jane groan. Heh.
That is, if I ever get out of my own head. Whatever I'm doing here.
Okay, walk on, Lane. Stop thinking too much.
...Though, I just *have* to think about why the hell I'm hurting at the ass even though I'm in my own head...
Hmm. Another different door that isn't wooden and dull. This one's sort of a pale jade-green. The plaque next to it says 'Inspiration'. Well, I already know what this door leads to.
The only time I've *really* been lifted by inspiration was the time Daria talked to me about my life. I think that was when the Tank broke down on the way to an Alternapalooza. At any rate, Daria really made me look at my life. I'd been going through some pretty harsh self-reality, and I was confirming what a loser I was being by asking Daria.
She's always seemed like a quiet, introspective person who's a good analyst. Which was why I asked her in the first place. But when I asked her, I didn't get the agreement I'd expected. I mean, sure, she agreed with what I said about my life, but she gave a positive approach to it. Plus she actually sounded like she meant it. She wasn't being corny or false in trying to cheer me up. She was serious.
She didn't seem like a high-schooler. She was like a very wise person. And from then on, I'd continued through Mystik Spiral, and I truly appreciated the fact I was able to live the way I was currently. Yeah, it's all coming back now. Daria became the coolest high-schooler I'd ever known from that day on.
Yeah, it's definitely that memory this door probably jogs up. I'll just continue past it... I won't be missing anything. Because it's either that memory, or it's the day Janey showed me her sculpture of peanut-butter and cheese sandwiches....
Oh, I nearly passed a new door. It's a brown door, so I nearly couldn't tell it apart from all the other pine-looking ones, but now that I'm looking closely at it... it's a sort of khaki colour. It's titled, 'Acceptance'.
Acceptance? Now *this* I don't know. Time to open another door.
Heh. Maybe this time, I won't fall on my ass on the way out.
Hearing the door shut with a slam, Trent was startled out of his nap. He looked up at Jane walking briskly up the stairs, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.
"Janey? What's up?"
He asked, his voice a tad sleepier than it should have considering the seriously gloomy expression on her face.
"Nothing. Uh, I'm not feeling really good, so, uhm, if someone asks for me, I'm running."
"So, uh, uhm, okay."
Trent replied, earning a scowl from his little sister before she trudged away to her room and out of sight. He rolled over and sat up on the sofa, wondering what was up with his sister now.
She hadn't been hanging around Daria ever since Tommy had died, or was it the other way round? Either way, Jane was getting seriously depressed and silent about it. He wanted to ask her about it, but he wasn't sure he was the person for it. But was Daria?
He knew Daria was a cool kid, but she did seem the type to have a negative outlook towards Tommy's death. If she had known him, and boy, had Trent known Tommy Sherman - then Daria probably knew that Tommy Sherman was a jerk.
Then did she think he *deserved* to die? But no one *deserves* anything, Trent thought, it isn't right to pass that sort of judgement to someone. Maybe that's why Janey's all depressed - because Daria doesn't give a damn about it when she does. Trent sighed. Janey had always been sort of sensitive to sudden happenings.
Damn, Trent thought, does this mean Daria isn't qualified for Janey? That can't be right... It suddenly occurred to Trent that maybe he was still trying to worm out reasons or excuses for Janey to still be only his special person. A complex? He shuddered at the idea. Guess I don't see Daria as full-fledged friend material, Trent mused. Well, for Janey, by any rate...
The doorbell rang, shaking him out of thought. Trent wondered if he should wait for Jane to get the door, when he remembered he wasn't in the basement (so he couldn't pretend he hadn't heard the bell ring) and that Janey was supposed to be running. Sighing, Trent eased himself up and sauntered to the door. He wasn't really thinking who it could be, so when it opened, he was surprised to see the subject of his thoughts.
"Hey, Daria,"
He greeted. He noted that she looked more tired than usual, her eyes a little more melancholy. Then he remembered who the girl was here to meet, and quickly added,
"Janey went running."
The reaction to this was immediate; Trent could see her totally deflating at his words. Her eyes dropping from his and her shoulders slumping, Daria mumbled,
"Oh. Well, I'll see her another time."
She turned on her heel and started to walk away. An alarm bell rang through Trent's head loudly. This is not a good time to turn away this girl, the warning screamed. She looks in desperate need of talking. Do something about it, quick.
The first thing that popped to Trent's tongue was not about Janey, though. It was the first and only thing he could think of that could possibly be separating Daria from Janey.
"Scary about Tommy Sherman."
Hearing this, Daria stopped walking away and instead stepped back to face him again, her eyebrows raised.
"Yeah. You knew him, right?"
Trent realised he could almost 'test' Daria here. To see what she thought about Tommy Sherman's death. To see how it affected her. How her thoughts had affected Janey.
"We had a couple classes together."
He started, when he remembered that sounded as though he had actually *seen* Tommy more than he actually had. He continued on, amending the intention in his words.
"I mean, we didn't see him much. You know, he didn't show up too often."
Daria looked downright nonchalant as she remarked,
"Not like you, huh."
Trent had to laugh at that one, though it dried up his throat and made him cough. Okay, she caught me there, he thought with a smile.
"I guess I might have missed a few classes, now that you mention it."
Realising what he was admitting so casually, Trent steered the subject back to course.
"Weird thing, freak accident."
He waited to see Daria's reaction to that. She looked thoughtful, and for a moment Trent expected her to come up with a witty wisecrack to gloss over the situation. Then she looked up at him and into his eyes searchingly, an eyebrow arched in question.
"Would you say it really makes you think?"
She asked, her voice slow and deliberate. Her eyes continued to search his. Trent racked his brains, and realised, despite knowing the dude, he didn't really care. He felt bad for Tommy, sure, but to be completely honest, he hadn't been affected by it all. What was there to think about? Other than the fact that everyone dies in the end. Seeing that Daria looked as though his answer really mattered, Trent figured he might as well give an honest one.
"No."
Her eyes widened for a split second in surprise before slipping back to normal. Trent noticed she looked more comfortably relaxed as she said in a quite sincere voice,
"Thank you for that."
Trent was confused.
"Huh?"
Starting to turn around, Daria said in the same sincereity,
"See ya."
It suddenly hit Trent was had just happened.
Daria knew something deep down about the whole Tommy Sherman thing that Janey didn't - probably something Janey didn't want to know herself. But Daria obviously didn't like what she felt. Yet she hadn't been able to ask Janey about it because Janey hadn't wanted to know about it at all. Then again, Janey probably did and should want to know, but was avoiding it for as long as she could. And Daria had been so confused about Janey she had come over, and seeing how she wouldn't be able to get confirmation with Janey, had just confirmed her view with Janey's brother. And having accepted the whole idea, Daria was ready to leave - and prepared to face her friend another time.
Whoa, Trent thought as his mind spun, Daria's really not like any high-schooler. Acceptance is very difficult to do on your own, and Trent knew that Daria must have been going through hell trying to figure it all out. Janey was probably going through the same. All because of the thought of accepting Tommy Sherman's death - not just him in particular but in general; as a whole subject.
Crap, Trent realised, these two need to see each other - real quick. He called out before the girl could turn 180.
"Hey Daria."
She paused in her tracks.
"Yeah?"
"You know... it was a while ago that Janey went running."
Trent said, hoping he sounded somewhat convincing, then ploughed on hesitantly,
"Maybe she came back and I didn't hear her or something."
Stepping back, Trent let Daria in as he suggested,
"Anyway, why don't you check her room. She might be there."
Looking uncertain of herself, Daria walked uptil the bottom of the staircase. She looked dubiously at the stairs before saying,
"I'll yell up the stairs."
"No,"
Trent hastily cut in before she could, certain that even if Janey did hear Daria over the music of hers, she wouldn't reply. Because in that case, he'd have to drag the two together to *force* them to talk, and he didn't believe that forcing ever did any good.
"Uhmm, sometimes,"
He said, his eyes darting about uncertainly as he spoke,
"She's got some music on and she can't hear really well. Why don't you just head on up?"
Daria's eyebrows shot up, and she cast a now surprised look at the steps. Then, looking more determined, she walked up the stairs steadily. As Trent watched her go, he smiled in relief. He waited below for a few minutes, and seeing no Daria or Jane rushing down the stairs, he retired back to his couch to nap. Stretching out lazily, Trent felt more content than he usually did.
It was reassuring to know that Janey had actually chosen a worthwhile friend who was not only smart and mature, but also sort of... wise. Yawning, Trent lay down to have a snooze. Before he drifted off, he realised he felt at ease with Daria now.
He had completely accepted her as Janey's friend.
A/N:: Happy New Year, folks! ^_^*
I'm staring at blackness, I'm in blackness, and I have no body. I could be a pair of floating eyeballs for all I know. Floating eyeballs? Hmm... gives me an idea for song lyrics... But I can't move my arms to grab a notepad, because I have no body here. Man, this sucks.
Hello, darkness. I am Trent Lane. Where the hell am I?
...Okay, that's creepy. Am I in hell?
I can't really think of how I got into a place like this. I mean, one minute I'm in a place full of light and colour and people, and next I'm suddenly plunged into this darkness. No immediate memory pangs... yet.
Whoa, I think I can feel something happening now, actually-- whoa! Colour! Corridor with lots of doors. Too many doors, but at least there's floor beneath me now. And I've got a body! Hurrah!
...What the hell am I wearing? Weird white shirt. Whatever.
Take a step, Lane. Good. Now take another.
Is this a dream? Funny. I don't get a lot of dreams I can walk around in after telling myself to. Plus, the floor feels pretty solid, and the colours aren't blurred, nor are the lines edgeless. Everything looks real enough. Hmmm. Edgeless... oh yeah, no notepad.
Only something deep inside is telling me that this isn't reality. I mean, how can I just land up from darkness into a place like this? There's something behind these doors that will help answer me, but I'm not entirely sure what I'm even asking. Besides the obvious 'Where am I?' bit.
None of the doors look interesting. They're all dull and boring. Oh, actually, I can see one that's really different. It's covered with vibrant pulsings of purple. Purple for passion, was it? Hmm... I don't know if this situation can get any weirder, now that I've discovered these little plague things with these tiny inscriptions next to each door.
For this purple one, it says, 'When Mystik Spiral Formed'.
Okay, let me take a guess at where I am. I'm in my own head and I'm travelling down memory lane. Literally. With no notebook! Man, that sucks. But it's weird enough, I guess, to be travelling in my own conciousness. Unconciousness. Whatever.
I'm not going into that room. I *know* how the Spiral was formed, and I don't need a recap on that... Brr... Okay, onto the next doors. Boring. Boring. Boring. Bo--... Oooh, here's one coloured in yellow. Nice, sunshine yellow. And the plaque says...?
'Janey'. This must be when I stuck the nickname onto Janey - that's when I started to really love her as a sister, if I can recall properly. That was sometime while I was camped out. I don't want to check that one - it'll be overflowing with sap, and I don't think I need that now... I sort of want to know what I'm doing in my head instead of being 'out there'.
Hey, it's better to believe that and stick to it than think it's all a kooky dream. Uh, who am I talking to, exactly? Myself. That's right. Ugh... whatever. Just keep talking and walking, Trent, and you'll eventually end up somewhere... talking in your head while in your head? Whatever...
Huh. This door's grey. That's kind of weird. The plaque says, 'Thwack'. Thwack? The hell? Okay, this just might be worth opening for the sake of curiousity. No rush, really. Yow! The handle is actually cold! That's so weird. Am't I in my head? Oh well... just open it, Trent, and see what happens...
Pushing the metal down now... the grey edge crawls away from in a long and loud creak, and-- whoa, more blackness.
...Something tells me, I've got to take a step into the dark to see this memory. Well, here goes...
The air-conditioner blasted out cold air, and Trent entered the kitchen humming Icebox Woman. Pulling out the second to last of sodas in the refrigerator, he settled down in a chair by the table, feeling refreshed under the air-con.
Sipping his can of soda, Trent greeted Jane with a wave as she entered the house.
"Back from running so soon?"
He asked.
"Actually, I didn't go running,"
Jane said casually, taking out another can of soda from the refrigerator. The she scowled.
"Now I've emptied the thing. Damn."
"Then where'd you go?"
Trent asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Ate a burger with a friend,"
She said quickly. Trent raised an eyebrow. Another date? But she just broke up with Calvin last month, he thought, his annoyance evident on his face. Jane noticed, and laughed.
"Oh, no, Trent, this is different. It's a girl."
His eyes widened considerably, his jaw dropping open as he set out his drink.
"A g-girl?! Y-you mean--"
He was abruptly cut off by Jane's outburst of laughter.
"No, no, I've got a *friend*, Trent. Just a friend."
He looked relieved for a few seconds, relaxing, before raising an eyebrow again in question.
"You've got a friend now?"
"Yup. She recognises that the depth of Lawndale is about three inches. Perfect partner in crime."
Trent was surprised. Jane sounded genuinely pleased about her friend. In his opinion, Janey was a great person, but she didn't really need friends... but on the other hand, Janey probably had girl-talk she'd never talk to him about...
"This is a good thing, right?"
Trent asked out loud, both to Jane and himself. Jane grinned.
"I think you'll like her. She's a cool girl. Her sarcasm hits the roof, though."
"Like you're not cynical."
Trent retorted, returning to his drink.
"You haven't met Daria Morgendorffer,"
Was Jane's reply as she headed off towards the living room, leaving Trent to think.
This was the first time Jane actually sounded serious about having a friend since fourth grade. He'd always thought that he'd be the only person for his sister; the supportive brother *and* close friend. And now she had another friend...
Hey, stop being selfish, he told himself.
Hmm... He only hoped 'Daria' was truly worthy of being Janey's friend.
As he sauntered out to the living room to join his sister, he was met with the sight of her rolling her eyes as she held a phone to her ear.
"Yeah, but wouldn't Ms. Defoe sort of notice the resemblance between his hair and ice-cream?"
Trent suddenly realised that he had no freaking idea what Jane was talking about... but the person on the other end, most likely 'Daria', did. And they were relating to each in mutual conversation.
The realisation that Jane wouldn't always only be his thwacked Trent harder than any guitar would have over the head.
Yow. That one hurt.
Was that when I first heard about Daria? And now my bum hurts since I've just been sent skidding across the floor.
Okay, so this *is* my own memory lane, and I really am walking around in my sub-conciousness. Unconciousness. Whatever.
What am I doing here?
Hmm... oh, I get it now. That's the whole point - that I have no idea what I'm doing here. Because I have no recollection of any memories immediately before I woke up in blackness. Which would mean... I've been sent to my memory lane to discover what I'm doing here.
I've just realised what a horrible pun it is... 'memory lane', 'Trent Lane'... I guess I could always say it if I wanted to make Daria or Jane groan. Heh.
That is, if I ever get out of my own head. Whatever I'm doing here.
Okay, walk on, Lane. Stop thinking too much.
...Though, I just *have* to think about why the hell I'm hurting at the ass even though I'm in my own head...
Hmm. Another different door that isn't wooden and dull. This one's sort of a pale jade-green. The plaque next to it says 'Inspiration'. Well, I already know what this door leads to.
The only time I've *really* been lifted by inspiration was the time Daria talked to me about my life. I think that was when the Tank broke down on the way to an Alternapalooza. At any rate, Daria really made me look at my life. I'd been going through some pretty harsh self-reality, and I was confirming what a loser I was being by asking Daria.
She's always seemed like a quiet, introspective person who's a good analyst. Which was why I asked her in the first place. But when I asked her, I didn't get the agreement I'd expected. I mean, sure, she agreed with what I said about my life, but she gave a positive approach to it. Plus she actually sounded like she meant it. She wasn't being corny or false in trying to cheer me up. She was serious.
She didn't seem like a high-schooler. She was like a very wise person. And from then on, I'd continued through Mystik Spiral, and I truly appreciated the fact I was able to live the way I was currently. Yeah, it's all coming back now. Daria became the coolest high-schooler I'd ever known from that day on.
Yeah, it's definitely that memory this door probably jogs up. I'll just continue past it... I won't be missing anything. Because it's either that memory, or it's the day Janey showed me her sculpture of peanut-butter and cheese sandwiches....
Oh, I nearly passed a new door. It's a brown door, so I nearly couldn't tell it apart from all the other pine-looking ones, but now that I'm looking closely at it... it's a sort of khaki colour. It's titled, 'Acceptance'.
Acceptance? Now *this* I don't know. Time to open another door.
Heh. Maybe this time, I won't fall on my ass on the way out.
Hearing the door shut with a slam, Trent was startled out of his nap. He looked up at Jane walking briskly up the stairs, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.
"Janey? What's up?"
He asked, his voice a tad sleepier than it should have considering the seriously gloomy expression on her face.
"Nothing. Uh, I'm not feeling really good, so, uhm, if someone asks for me, I'm running."
"So, uh, uhm, okay."
Trent replied, earning a scowl from his little sister before she trudged away to her room and out of sight. He rolled over and sat up on the sofa, wondering what was up with his sister now.
She hadn't been hanging around Daria ever since Tommy had died, or was it the other way round? Either way, Jane was getting seriously depressed and silent about it. He wanted to ask her about it, but he wasn't sure he was the person for it. But was Daria?
He knew Daria was a cool kid, but she did seem the type to have a negative outlook towards Tommy's death. If she had known him, and boy, had Trent known Tommy Sherman - then Daria probably knew that Tommy Sherman was a jerk.
Then did she think he *deserved* to die? But no one *deserves* anything, Trent thought, it isn't right to pass that sort of judgement to someone. Maybe that's why Janey's all depressed - because Daria doesn't give a damn about it when she does. Trent sighed. Janey had always been sort of sensitive to sudden happenings.
Damn, Trent thought, does this mean Daria isn't qualified for Janey? That can't be right... It suddenly occurred to Trent that maybe he was still trying to worm out reasons or excuses for Janey to still be only his special person. A complex? He shuddered at the idea. Guess I don't see Daria as full-fledged friend material, Trent mused. Well, for Janey, by any rate...
The doorbell rang, shaking him out of thought. Trent wondered if he should wait for Jane to get the door, when he remembered he wasn't in the basement (so he couldn't pretend he hadn't heard the bell ring) and that Janey was supposed to be running. Sighing, Trent eased himself up and sauntered to the door. He wasn't really thinking who it could be, so when it opened, he was surprised to see the subject of his thoughts.
"Hey, Daria,"
He greeted. He noted that she looked more tired than usual, her eyes a little more melancholy. Then he remembered who the girl was here to meet, and quickly added,
"Janey went running."
The reaction to this was immediate; Trent could see her totally deflating at his words. Her eyes dropping from his and her shoulders slumping, Daria mumbled,
"Oh. Well, I'll see her another time."
She turned on her heel and started to walk away. An alarm bell rang through Trent's head loudly. This is not a good time to turn away this girl, the warning screamed. She looks in desperate need of talking. Do something about it, quick.
The first thing that popped to Trent's tongue was not about Janey, though. It was the first and only thing he could think of that could possibly be separating Daria from Janey.
"Scary about Tommy Sherman."
Hearing this, Daria stopped walking away and instead stepped back to face him again, her eyebrows raised.
"Yeah. You knew him, right?"
Trent realised he could almost 'test' Daria here. To see what she thought about Tommy Sherman's death. To see how it affected her. How her thoughts had affected Janey.
"We had a couple classes together."
He started, when he remembered that sounded as though he had actually *seen* Tommy more than he actually had. He continued on, amending the intention in his words.
"I mean, we didn't see him much. You know, he didn't show up too often."
Daria looked downright nonchalant as she remarked,
"Not like you, huh."
Trent had to laugh at that one, though it dried up his throat and made him cough. Okay, she caught me there, he thought with a smile.
"I guess I might have missed a few classes, now that you mention it."
Realising what he was admitting so casually, Trent steered the subject back to course.
"Weird thing, freak accident."
He waited to see Daria's reaction to that. She looked thoughtful, and for a moment Trent expected her to come up with a witty wisecrack to gloss over the situation. Then she looked up at him and into his eyes searchingly, an eyebrow arched in question.
"Would you say it really makes you think?"
She asked, her voice slow and deliberate. Her eyes continued to search his. Trent racked his brains, and realised, despite knowing the dude, he didn't really care. He felt bad for Tommy, sure, but to be completely honest, he hadn't been affected by it all. What was there to think about? Other than the fact that everyone dies in the end. Seeing that Daria looked as though his answer really mattered, Trent figured he might as well give an honest one.
"No."
Her eyes widened for a split second in surprise before slipping back to normal. Trent noticed she looked more comfortably relaxed as she said in a quite sincere voice,
"Thank you for that."
Trent was confused.
"Huh?"
Starting to turn around, Daria said in the same sincereity,
"See ya."
It suddenly hit Trent was had just happened.
Daria knew something deep down about the whole Tommy Sherman thing that Janey didn't - probably something Janey didn't want to know herself. But Daria obviously didn't like what she felt. Yet she hadn't been able to ask Janey about it because Janey hadn't wanted to know about it at all. Then again, Janey probably did and should want to know, but was avoiding it for as long as she could. And Daria had been so confused about Janey she had come over, and seeing how she wouldn't be able to get confirmation with Janey, had just confirmed her view with Janey's brother. And having accepted the whole idea, Daria was ready to leave - and prepared to face her friend another time.
Whoa, Trent thought as his mind spun, Daria's really not like any high-schooler. Acceptance is very difficult to do on your own, and Trent knew that Daria must have been going through hell trying to figure it all out. Janey was probably going through the same. All because of the thought of accepting Tommy Sherman's death - not just him in particular but in general; as a whole subject.
Crap, Trent realised, these two need to see each other - real quick. He called out before the girl could turn 180.
"Hey Daria."
She paused in her tracks.
"Yeah?"
"You know... it was a while ago that Janey went running."
Trent said, hoping he sounded somewhat convincing, then ploughed on hesitantly,
"Maybe she came back and I didn't hear her or something."
Stepping back, Trent let Daria in as he suggested,
"Anyway, why don't you check her room. She might be there."
Looking uncertain of herself, Daria walked uptil the bottom of the staircase. She looked dubiously at the stairs before saying,
"I'll yell up the stairs."
"No,"
Trent hastily cut in before she could, certain that even if Janey did hear Daria over the music of hers, she wouldn't reply. Because in that case, he'd have to drag the two together to *force* them to talk, and he didn't believe that forcing ever did any good.
"Uhmm, sometimes,"
He said, his eyes darting about uncertainly as he spoke,
"She's got some music on and she can't hear really well. Why don't you just head on up?"
Daria's eyebrows shot up, and she cast a now surprised look at the steps. Then, looking more determined, she walked up the stairs steadily. As Trent watched her go, he smiled in relief. He waited below for a few minutes, and seeing no Daria or Jane rushing down the stairs, he retired back to his couch to nap. Stretching out lazily, Trent felt more content than he usually did.
It was reassuring to know that Janey had actually chosen a worthwhile friend who was not only smart and mature, but also sort of... wise. Yawning, Trent lay down to have a snooze. Before he drifted off, he realised he felt at ease with Daria now.
He had completely accepted her as Janey's friend.
A/N:: Happy New Year, folks! ^_^*