Chapter 2: Calling All Meteors

Daria's best friend in the ever-expanding universe stood just outside the doorway with their formerly contentious ex-in-common, Tom Sloane, and Jane's brother Trent. The three of them were conversing with a highly animated Anthony DeMartino. It seemed the history teacher with the pulsating right eye took issue with almost every aspect of his friend's funeral arrangements, from the photos in the program (featuring his on- and off-again girlfriend, Janet Barch) to the lack of Timothy's favorite flowers (yellow tulips). Balling his fists and working up a sweat, he seethed, "I guess it was too much TROUble to call a FLORist two towns away so this anGELic man could get a few TULIPS by his COFFin!"

Daria saw Tom quietly speaking to Mr. DeMartino in what must have been a magically soothing manner—the highly-caffeinated teacher's shoulders slowly began to slump as he nodded with tears in his eyes. Suddenly he engulfed Tom in what looked like a spine-cracking hug and burst into shuddering sobs.

Feeling like the worst sort of eavesdropper, Daria hurriedly turned around in her seat. She was concentrating on looking anywhere but at Mr. O'Neill's eco-friendly wicker casket when she heard footsteps approach her chair.

"Okay, Morgendorffer, nowhere to run—just ask Mr. O'Neill. Are you going to scoot over or am I going to sit in your skinny lap and force you to talk to me?"

Daria took a deep breath and looked up into Jane's questioning blue eyes. "Is there a third option, such as me crawling into Mr. O'Neill's vegan Styx-crosser and closing the lid?"

"I'll let you use your excellent analytical skills to decode my facial expression and arrive at your own answer."

Daria wordlessly moved one seat over.

As Jane was taking her seat, Daria saw Tom and Trent walk up the aisle supporting a weeping Anthony DeMartino between them. Both Tom and Trent had shortened their haircuts and diversified their wardrobes over the past few years, and today the former wore a beige sport coat while the latter was in a black sweater with a white collared shirt beneath. Tom shepherded the graying educator to a chair and then gave Trent's hand a quick squeeze before sitting down himself.

Jane's voice was soft, full of pain, and very near Daria's ear as she pleaded, "Tell me what I did to make you ignore my phone calls for two months, Daria."

The Misery Chick had never felt more at home with the title as she sat there, wracked with guilt and staring at her best friend looking beautiful in a plum cashmere V-neck sweater, gray pencil skirt, and knee-high black boots. You heard the woman, Morgendorffer—nowhere to run. You can either pray for a well-timed meteor strike or figure out a way to tell Jane the truth.

Daria shifted her gaze to her lap, closed her eyes, and asked, "Do you remember…at Trent and Tom's wedding, when you were dancing to The Doors?"

Just as the dark-haired artist opened her mouth to answer, the Indigo Girls song coming from the speakers cut out and an orange-robed Hare Krishna standing next to Mr. O'Neill's casket turned to face the crowd. Jane squeezed her best friend's forearm and whispered, "Saved by the bell-ringer. Will you go for pizza with me after and tell me what's wrong?"

The pale brunette met Jane's eyes and answered, "Of course I will."