A New Set of Rules

by Dennis

Daria's at Notre Dame, one of the best academic schools in the country. Of course, it's also one of the best football schools in the country, so guess who else is there? And why is Daria tutoring him?

3. Special Teams

Spring and summer bring hope, but also a renewal of battle. Hopefuls push their bodies to the limit to prepare themselves for upcoming clashes. For everyone who has established themselves in the starting lineup, the inner circle of the team, dozens more are fighting for their place. Some will fall by the wayside as the grueling pace highlights undiscovered weaknesses; others will find they lack the strength within or without to overcome their foes. Only an honored few will reach the season with their football dreams intact...

Chapter 1: Block in the Back

Daria hurried through the familiar streets of Lawndale toward Pizza King to meet Jane as she had so many times before. She'd been back in town for spring break for three days, but today was the first time they would see each other. Since she'd spent the last three weeks at school telling herself she was too busy to call, this was the longest the two had gone without speaking since they met—well, except for the Tom thing, but Daria was doing her best to put all things time Tom firmly in the past.

As familiar places—and the odd familiar face—drifted through the edges of her sight, she sighed. She knew damn well why she was avoiding her friend—she didn't want Jane's opinion of her relationship. Jane was going to find it life-threateningly funny, and Daria had been the butt of enough jokes already. Colleen hadn't been too bad, but Jerry and Gina couldn't even look at her for the last week before break without laughing. Her sister's laughing fit hadn't been quite as epic, but the twinkle of amusement in Quinn's eyes was putting Daria permanently out of sorts.

Arriving at Pizza King, she took a deep breath, pushed the door open, and walked in. Her eyes swept the familiar booths and the old counter, just as cracked and dingy as it ever was, but caught no sign of Jane. Her sense of relief dismayed her, but not nearly as much as the sudden, "Hey, amiga! I thought that was you," that came from right behind her. It was all she could do not to jump out of her skin.

"Develop a coffee habit over the last few weeks?" Jane's tone was sardonic, but her eyes were amused.

"No," Daria said, affecting her flattest monotone even as she tried to get her pounding heart under control. "The stress of once again being confined to the same house as Quinn is getting to me."

Jane gave Daria a long look before saying. "Grab a booth. Garbage pie on me."

In the booth she'd chosen, Daria tried hard to settle her nerves. Yes, she was about to tell her best friend that she was dating the QB they'd spent so much time deriding in High School, but it wasn't like she was asking for Jane's permission. She was just sharing the latest development in her life, like she'd done so many times before. And if Jane didn't like it, well, it wasn't Jane that was dating Kevin; she didn't have to like it.

After a moment, Jane slid into the booth neatly balancing the tray that held their garbage pie. "So," she said, "helping herself to a slice, "how goes your foray into animal training?"

Daria lowered her eyes to the food. She could feel herself tightening in anger, and didn't want Jane to see. Unfortunately, the pizza didn't look all that appealing either. Her infrequent trips to Baltimore had taught her that pizza in the 'burbs was pretty much the bottom of the barrel. She supposed she'd eventually have to make it over to Chicago, or New York, over the summer to try some real pizza, but for now, this was what she had. What the hell. It's better than anything I can get in South Bend, anyway. Finally, she grabbed a slice and took a bite, chewing deliberately to avoid answering until she had her anger until control.

Finally, she spoke. "Animal training?"

"You know," Jane smirked. "The education of the wild QB in its native habitat. Has Kevin learned the alphabet, yet?"

"Kevin's doing very well," Daria said after another bite. "He's never going to be a prize student, but he's on track for a GPA around 2.4. It's enough to keep him off probation."

"Wow, Daria the miracle worker." Jane said. "Do you get the Nobel Prize before or after you graduate?"

"Jane," Daria said, voice even, though she badly wanted to grit her teeth. "Please stop talking about Kevin as if he was a different species. I've spent a lot of time around him these last few months and found that under the veneer of privilege created by high school is a remarkably decent person."

Taken aback, Jane blinked and blurted, "What's gotten into you? Next you'll tell me you're going out with him."

Daria's insides froze. If she thought she had hidden her shock, Jane's next words disabused her. "You are going out with him," she breathed in an awed tone usually reserved for informing supervillains of their madness.

"So what if I am?" Daria snapped, her self-control fading. She knew her amiga would find it funny, but she was unprepared for the gales of laughter that erupted. Kane laughed for a full minute, occasionally waving a finger as if to focus herself and speak before giving way to further hilarity. All the while, Daria grew redder.

Finally, Jane got control of herself. "Does this mean you have to return the mouse and the M&Ms to Brittany?" she asked. Daria's outraged look sent her into further laughter, but she recovered much more quickly this time.

"I don't see what's so funny, Jane," Daria said.

"If you think it through, it'll come to you."

"I can do without the know-it-all attitude. I get enough of that from Colleen."

Jane grinned. "Colleen is a wise and observant woman. I hope I get to meet her."

"Sorry. I have no plans to set off the apocalypse, which is the only possible outcome of getting the two of you together."

"Time was, you'd have called the apocalypse a good day's work. Told you you're getting soft."

Daria refused to dignify that with a response, instead savagely chomping on her pizza.

Jane must have realized it was time to lay off, because she let Daria finish her slice in peace. The smirk refused to leave her face. though.

"You know," Daria snapped, "if I wanted to be judged, I could have stayed home."

"But I thought that's what you liked about me," Jane said in deadpan imitation of Daria herself. Before Daria could take offense, or react in any way, Jane continued. "Relax, Daria. I'm not going to hassle you about Kevin. You're a big girl and you'll take care of yourself. Besides, the heart has it's reasons whereof reason knows not, right?"

Daria quirked an eyebrow. "I didn't think Pascal was your idea of leisure reading, Jane."

Jane answered with a smirk. "It's not. But A Wrinkle in Time is." She wiped a mock tear from her eye. "I love that book."

"Me too," Daria half-smiled. "But I'm surprised you're not asking me why I'm going out with him."

"I don't need to ask. I've known you for three years."

"This ought to be good." Daria's voice was heavy with sarcasm.

"Count on it," Jane said, and smirked again. "You hate lies and pretense, which is good, but it also makes you a sucker for honesty. And Kevin, in high school, was one big put-on, so you blew him off, or would have if he gave you the chance. But now, he's desperate, which made him honest, so you responded to the honesty, which is why you agreed to tutor him. And as long as he's still being honest with you, you can notice that he actually is a good looking guy, and he's trying to learn, so you can forget the difference in IQ between the two of you. And someone, probably that Bryce jerk, rubbed your face in the fact that not everyone is honest, but also reminded you that you like having a guy to get hot and heavy with. And there's Kevin being honest and handsome and trying hard, so of course you fell into his arms, because not only are you honest, but deep down, under that cold, sarcastic exterior, you're one of the sweetest people alive."

"Are you done? You were starting to turn purple."

Jane took an exaggerated deep breath. "I'm done."

"So you really think that deep down, I'm a sucker with a heart of gold." Daria said.

"Yep," Jane said, and took a bite of her pizza. As she chewed, she added, "It's the only thing that makes you bearable, amiga."

"Bite me," Daria said, but they both knew her heart wasn't in it. In fact, she felt a rush of warmth, realizing again that Jane truly understood her and cared about her. Not that she was going to tell Jane that. "I still have that bridesmaids dress and I'm sure I can borrow a cleaver."

Jane laughed and raised her drink in mock salute.

The rest of the break and the last few weeks of the semester passed without incident. Having survived finals once, she was better prepared for the stress they placed on her life, and Kevin was fully invested in cracking 2.0. The only downside she could see—and she had to laugh considering how long she would have considered it the upside—was that she saw little of Kevin outside of their tutoring sessions. Between classwork and his spring practices, there simply weren't enough hours in the day to bring them together. And once finals were done, the move back to Lawndale was all too soon.

She was just getting into some heavy packing when her intercom buzzed, telling her there was someone downstairs. "This had better be good," she grumbled, dropping the CD-ROM game she was holding.

Downstairs she was greeted by a serious-looking Kevin with a bouquet of flowers. Before he could even offer then to her, she froze him with a steely glare. "Out with it," she said.

"What?" he said, affecting his most ingenuous look.

"You show up not smiling, with flowers, when you know we're moving out tomorrow. Something's up, and the sooner you tell me what it is, the sooner I can decide how mad to be." Somewhere deep, her insides writhed, but she ignored them.

"Well, I made the varsity," he said and for a second his smile lit the room, as she waited for the other shoe to drop. "But that means I can't go back to Lawndale. We're going to be working though most of the summer."

She was silent for a long moment, hoping Kevin couldn't sense the anger and fear rising in counterpoint within her, as the specter of Tom's betrayal loomed. It had taken him all of six weeks after leaving for Yale to dump her. I have to trust, she said over and over again in her head, repeating the words like a calming mantra. After what seemed like forever, she said, "Congratulations."

"You're not mad?" She could hear the confusion in his voice, see it on his face.

I wouldn't go that far, she thought, as emotional aftershocks rumbled through her. I might be crazy as a shithouse rat. To him, she gave her half-smile. "Of course I'm not mad, Kevin. A little disappointed, but only because I want to spend time with you. I'd be pretty selfish to blame you for reaching a goal you've been working toward for years."

"I'm not there yet," he said, and the quiet intensity in his voice was somehow shocking. But then his eyes met hers and he smiled. "I'm sorry, Daria. I was looking forward to spending time with you, too. But I'm glad you understand."

"And we won't be apart for that long. I'm coming back in July for summer session and to find an apartment with Colleen."

"Right," he said. "And I'll make sure we have plenty of time together then." When he leaned in to kiss her, Tom was the furthest thing from her mind.

Chapter 2: Leaving the Field and Returning

Helen and Jake were happy to have her home, of course, even if for only six weeks. And given her plans to get an apartment and the sudden need for cash that went with it, she couldn't turn down Helen's "offer" of an internship at her law firm. "You can make about a thousand dollars in six weeks, Daria," Helen had said, "and the connections you make now may prove much more valuable."

"Of course," was Daria's reply. "The office shredder will be happy to get me into law school. Now I know how Jodie feels."

"Daria." Helen's sigh was so practiced that Daria had to laugh.

And although as predicted, she spent most of her time with the shredder, she knew her work situation could have been far worse, so she didn't complain—not any more than strictly necessary. Besides, she still had plenty of time to hang out with Jane and do what she wanted.

The only thorn in her side was the vague worry that Kevin had forgotten about her. After all, he was a thousand miles away, probably surrounded by football groupies in short shorts, while she was stuck in Lawndale with her shredder. Their all-too-brief phone calls did nothing to reassure her, and Quinn, sadly, was no help.

Even though Daria was willing, for the first time in her life, to seek relationship advice from her dating-fiend younger sister, Quinn was largely unavailable. Between prom, studying for finals, graduation, and much associated shopping, the Princess of Pink was hardly ever home. On the few occasions both sisters were around, Quinn cultivated a serene amusement that drove Daria wild.

One memorable conversation resulted when Quinn claimed Jake's Lexus for "finals shopping," leaving Daria a two-mile walk to meet Jane at Gary's Gallery.

"Exactly what," an exasperated Daria demanded of her sister, "does shopping have to do with finals?"

Quinn merely gave a flip of the hair as she pulled on her light jacket. "Therapy, Daria," she said and glided out the door, leaving the older Morgendorffer sister shaking her head.

Still, when Quinn's graduation finally came, Daria was happy to join her parents in the familiar stands of Lawndale High to show her little sister just how proud she was. Though Quinn was nowhere near Valedictorian status, she'd pulled her grades up far enough to have a wide range of college options. In typical Quinn fashion, she'd stuck with her original choice, Pepperdine, but not for the beaches, the parties, or LA.

No, much to Daria's surprise, and possibly her own, Quinn found her heart set on Marine Biology, and Pepperdine had one of the better programs in the country. Watching Quinn receive her diploma, Daria felt herself tearing up thinking about how far Quinn had come—how far they'd both come—since moving to Lawndale. When the ceremony finally ended and Quinn joined her family, the sisters shared a deep, long hug that would have been impossible four years ago.

Daria was surprised how quickly the time went after that. Her last day at the law firm was June 30, the Friday after Quinn's graduation, and from there on she was preparing for the trip back to Indiana on the 5th of July. She and Jane were planning on going to another of Jodie's parties on the 4th, but as she stared pensively at an open box of knickknacks, she wondered what Jane would think if she ditched the party. A knock at her door interrupted her. "It's open," she called.

Quinn's head appeared around the door. "Mind if I walk over to Jodie's with you and Jane?"

Daria raised an eyebrow. "What makes you so sure I'm going?"

"A functioning brain," Quinn said archly. "Every time Jodie throws a party you bitch about not wanting to go. But every time, you go."

"Damn. Hoist with my own petard." Daria put down the Spanish Inquisition snow globe she'd been holding and turned to face her sister. "I don't mind," she said, "but I figured you'd want to walk over with your friends."

"Can't a girl want to spend some time with her sister?"

"Are you feeling well?"

"Of course," Quinn said, and smiled vindictively. "I know how bad you were at the New Year's Party. This time, I want to watch."

Daria grabbed a pillow and threw it at her sister. "What makes you think I'm going to be worth watching? Jane and I are just going over for an hour or two and then I'm going to come home and finish packing."

"Sure," Quinn drew the word out. "After all, no one gave you crap for tutoring Kevin, so they're totally going to mind their business now that you're dating him."

"Dammit!" Daria looked for a pillow to bury her head in, but she'd thrown it at Quinn. "How did you get so good at sarcasm, anyway?"

Quinn smirked. "I started listening to my big sister."

Daria slowly and deliberately stuck her tongue out at Quinn. It wasn't something she'd ever done, even as a little girl, and it took Quinn totally by surprise. The redhead dissolved into helpless laughter, allowing Daria to recover her pillow. "You're welcome to walk over with us, and laugh at me, but if you say word one, you're a dead woman, Quinn." Then, not without a certain dignity, she whomped her laughing sister in the face with the pillow and strode out of the room. Quinn only laughed harder.

Somehow, the sisters Morgendorffer managed to cease hostilities for long enough to make it to Jodie's. Daria expected Jane to be at least mildly curious about their traveling companion, but she and Quinn exchanged knowing smiles, like they were sharing a good joke that Daria wasn't privy to. The feeling wasn't helped by Jodie's expression when she answered the door.

"You can stop staring, Jodie," Daria said. "I made sure to put makeup on both heads this times."

"And you look very nice," Jodie blurted. "Uh, hi Daria," she added, trying to regain her equilibrium. "And Jane and Quinn. It's good to see you all." In the doorway, Daria could see Mack lurking.

"Right," she snapped. "I'm leaving."

Before she could turn, Jane and Quinn each grabbed an arm. "And deny your friend—"

"And your sister," added Quinn.

"Your friend and your sister," Jane continued, with a villainous laugh, "the pleasure of watching you squirm? I don't think so. You made your bed. Now lie in it."

Jodie grimaced at the word "bed." "That's a mental picture I don't need," she said.

"Too right," Mack added, as he joined them. "Hey, Jane. Hey, Quinn. Hey, pod person that took over Daria's brain. When do we get the real Daria back?"

"When you all start minding your own business again," Daria snapped. "My private life is private."

"C'mon, Daria," Jane smirked. "At least let us have a little fun. After all, the world is clearly ending within the week."

"Bite me, Lane," Daria said as Jodie smiled, Quinn snickered, and Mack guffawed. "I hate you all with malice aforethought," she said. "Also afterthought," she added after a moment's reflection.

Sensing no sympathy from anyone around her, she decided retreat was the better part of valor. Andrea, who was walking past, altered her path to match Daria's as Quinn watched, curious. "Well, Andrea certainly finds this all very fascinating," she said, softly.

"Quinn," Jane said. "Everyone finds this fascinating. Somewhere in northern Alaska, two Eskimos are huddled in an igloo gossiping about Daria and Kevin." As her eyes caught Brittany heading toward them, she added, "And there's a bubble-headed blonde cheerleader who's also interested."

Jodie frowned, but before she could say anything, Brittany was on top of them, already in full squeak. "I can't believe Daria! What is she thinking?!"

"If I answer that question properly, you're not going to understand me anyway," Jane deadpanned. Mack and Quinn stifled laughs.

"Ha, ha. Very funny, Jane. We all know I'm dumb." Jane blinked, shocked. A heavy silence fell, which Brittany interrupted. "But not as dumb as Daria, I think. She promised me she wasn't going to get mixed up with Kevin!" She punctuated this angry outburst by stamping her foot.

"So you're not still interested in him," Jodie asked softly.

"Are you kidding? Football players are jerks! And Kevin is the king jerk." She considered a moment, right hand still unconsciously moving to twirl a pigtail. "Well, that Tommy Sherman was King Jerk and some of the guys at East Kentucky are, like, major jerks, too. But Kevin is at least Lord Jerk. I can't believe Daria would do that to herself!"

Before Jodie could say anything, Daria appeared on her other side. "Do what to myself?" she said, face calm and expressionless. To Jodie, Mack, and Brittany, she looked exactly the way she always did. Jane and Quinn, who knew her better, began to back away.

They never made it. Daria knew them, too. "Stay," she said, without turning, and the edge in her voice froze them both. Meanwhile, Brittany, convinced her cause was just, or maybe too dumb to know better, confronted Daria. "You know what I mean! Dating that slimy snake Kevin!"

Daria said nothing for a long moment, just meeting Brittany's eyes. As she drew in a breath, Jane and Quinn winced, waiting for the onslaught, while Jodie and Mack squirmed, and even Brittany began to wonder if she'd gone too far. But when Daria spoke, it was softly, with an air of confusion. "I don't know, Brittany. I can't explain, but it just feels right."

Brittany made a "Hmmph" sound, but there was no real force to it.

"Look, I know what you're thinking, and it's not like that. Somehow, I don't know how, we just found a way to respect each other, and feelings grew out of that." Though she was technically talking to Brittany, Daria's words seemed to beg for understanding from Jane, Quinn, Mack, and Jodie as well. "He's not the same person he was in High School, or even at New Years'. I think he's growing up."

"Maybe," Brittany said doubtfully. "Or maybe he's found a way to trick you into doing what he wants."

"Believe me, Brittany," Daria said with a wince, "Kevin's an amateur when it comes to manipulation." Jane and Quinn, who both knew about Tom, if not about Bryce, shuddered in sympathy.

Brittany began to twirl a braid, face clouded with the effort of thinking. Finally, she sighed. "Well, okay, Daria. If you think the jerk is worth your time, I'm not going to tell you no. But don't let him take advantage of you."

Strangely touched, Daria took Brittany's hand. "I won't. And Brittany, I meant what I said at New Years'. You've always been very nice to me, and I haven't always deserved it. So thank you."

"You're welcome, Daria," Brittany said, and smiled. With a bob of her pigtails to acknowledge the others, she left to mingle.

"Wow," Quinn said, as Daria's eyes followed Brittany's retreating form. "Did you really mean all that?"

"Yes," Daria replied without turning.

"Of course she did," Jane said. "Daria doesn't even know how to lie!"

"Let's not get crazy," Quinn said, making Jodie and Mack laugh.

Daria sighed, suddenly tired of being the focus of their attention. She could feel unasked questions like waves emanating from the four of them. At least Andrea had just made fun of her. "I never thought I'd live to say this, but let's go mingle."

Daria found getting back in the swing of things at school to be harder than she thought. For one thing, surviving the two-day drive back to Indiana had been an ordeal. It wouldn't have mattered if God was her co-pilot, she reflected, because Jake was her driver, and distance didn't mitigate his tendencies toward road rage. She lost a day just sitting and shaking in her temporary dorm room.

She pulled herself together the next day because she and Colleen were going apartment hunting. Before Colleen stopped by, though, she gave Kevin a call.

"Hi," said the familiar, but somehow less goofy, voice,

"Hey, Kevin," Daria said. "I'm back."

"Daria!" His voice lit with joy, in turn making her tingle ever so slightly. "How was the trip back?"

"Don't ask," she said. "My Dad's driving is a combination of the Indy 500 and the Soviet march on Berlin."

"End of World War II, right?"

"Right," she said, even as his earnest tone made her smile. "Listen, Colleen and I are going apartment hunting today, but I'm free tonight. Do you want to meet up for dinner?"

He sighed. "Can't. Got a film session with the quarterbacks coach tonight. I only have morning practice tomorrow, though. After that I'm free the whole day."

"Well, Colleen and I may have to do more apartment hunting, but we can definitely have dinner and hang out after."

"Great," he said. They chatted for a few minutes more, until Kevin noticed he had to head out. "I'll call you after practice tomorrow!"

"Okay," she said, and hung up the phone with her usual half-smile. She would have liked to get together today, to see if this still made sense, but she accepted that he was busy. "Who knew my social life would suddenly revolve around football practice." She shook her head and laughed softly to herself.

The first day of apartment hunting was a total bust, but late on the second day, she and Colleen found a place they liked. The realtor, a thirtysomething named Rhonda with a no-nonsense attitude, was a relief after all the fake friendliness the girls had been forced to endure. Rhonda hustled them through a couple of crapholes "that the boss makes me show," before getting to the prize—a garden apartment in a two-story building. The two bedrooms were the same size, both slightly bigger than Daria's old room in Lawndale, which made them cavernous compared to their dorm rooms, and the living space had a small kitchenette and a big bay window to let in natural light. It took the two girls less than a second to agree, and it was a very happy Daria that went to meet Kevin for dinner.

The first thing she noticed when the red jeep picked her up was how well dressed Kevin was. He stepped from the car wearing a sport coat over an expensive-looking dress shirt. His pants were immaculately creased and even his shoes were shined.

"You look great," she said, feeling self conscious. She'd thrown on a skirt, but her top was little better than a T-shirt.

Her outfit didn't seem to bother him, though, as he leaned in to give her a chaste kiss on the cheek. "You look great too, Daria," he said as he opened the passenger door for her. In a minute they were on their way.

Daria expected they'd hit the burger place close to campus, and sure enough, Kevin was heading in that direction. She was therefore surprised when he shot past it without stopping. "I hope you like French food. There's a place out by the interstate that some of the guys on the team say is really good." He turned to smile at her for a second. "I figured we should do something nicer than sloppy joes."

"Sure," Daria said. "It's a little weird, though," she added. "Quinn was always the one who went to French restaurants."

Kevin was genuinely surprised. "But Tom was rich. I thought he took you to fancy places all the time, right?"

Daria tried to hide a wince at the mention of Tom Sloane's name. "He didn't like doing fancy dinners. A lot of our dates were just grabbing a slice of pizza and walking around Dega Street or downtown Lawndale."

"Wow. I was never the best boyfriend, but even I knew to take Britt out someplace fancy every once in awhile." He laughed. "I would see Quinn at Chez Pierre pretty much whenever I was there. I had to pretend I didn't see her or Britt would get jealous, or whatever guy was with Quinn would. After a while, we just stopped going there. The food at that little Italian place was better anyway."

"Yeah," Daria smiled. "I did get Tom to take me there once to see what the fuss was all about. The waiters were all jerks and the food was pretty lousy. I hope this place is better."

"I'm sure it will be," he said, as they drove into the night.

Kevin was right; the food was markedly better than Daria remembered from Chez Pierre, and the waitstaff did not so much as snicker at Kevin's atrocious pronunciation. The conversation left something to be desired though. Although she asked him about football, Kevin didn't seem to want to talk about it, and she was afraid that talking about the law firm or the classes she was planning to take would bore him. Also, he didn't seem to be enjoying his filet mignon as much as she enjoyed her chicken provençal. When she asked him how it was, he said it was very good, but she could see the disappointment on his face.

When they finished, however, it was he who suggested desert.

"I'm not sure, Kevin. I'm kind of full," Daria said.

"Oh, come on, Daria. I'm sure this place makes great deserts, and we can split one." He must have seen the reluctance on her face, because he added, "I promise I'm not going to order Jell-o or anything."

"It's not that," she said, wondering why this was such a big deal. She shoved down her confusion and said, "You know what? You're right. We should have desert. Pick something and we'll spit it."

He ordered a Napoleon, which turned out to be almost as big as the Emperor himself. It tasted wonderful, but the experience again left something to be desired. Neither of them had much experience with a romantic desert, and Kevin at least, was used to taking healthy bites of whatever he ate, so his attempts to eat neatly looked almost physically painful to Daria, who wasn't doing much better. Not having been fed since she was 18 months old, she was unprepared to eat from any one else's fork. and she was sure she looked like a cat being dosed whenever Kevin offered her a forkful.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, the waiter brought the check. Watching Kevin struggle against all reason to thank "mon-sewer," Daria had a sudden insight. Once they were back in the car, she shared it with Kevin.

"So," she said. "Did you enjoy dinner?"

"Uh, yeah," he said. "It was, you know, I mean—"

"It was lousy."

"Yeah," he said, long face taking on a hang-dog expression. "You're not going to break up with me, are you?"

She gave him a half-smile to reassure him. "No. We know each other too yell for one bad dinner to ruin everything." His face brightened as she continued. "But I think I know why dinner went so badly."

"Because French food isn't very filling?"

"Not quite." She laughed. "But then I'm used to smaller portion sizes. It's just that we were trying too hard. I appreciate that you wanted to impress me, and French food does impress girls like Quinn, but it's not you."

"I thought you'd like it," Kevin said, half accusing. "You said you did."

"I did like the food," Daria said. "But I'd like the food in lots of other places, too. And I'll enjoy myself more if you're enjoying yourself. I know you wanted to tell me about what's going on with the team, but you didn't even say a word about it."

"I didn't want you to be bored."

"I will be, sometimes, but it's important to you, so I want to hear about it. And I hope you'll want to hear about some of the classwork I'm doing or the books I'm reading, even though they don't interest you."

"Of course, Daria," he said. "I won't always understand, but you're smart enough to explain things so they make sense. And I want to make you happy too."

"That's a good start, then. Why don't we try again tomorrow, go someplace we both want to go, and talk about the things we want to talk about."

"Sounds like a plan," Kevin said. They enjoyed the ride home much more, and the goodnight kiss in front of her dorm most of all.

Dinner the next day was much better, and the few days after that. They didn't always have a meal, but they found a way to spend time with each other, even if it was just walking around the mostly empty quad, and if Kevin's mind was much on football, Daria found it didn't bother her. His enthusiasm helped her see the strategic aspect of the game, forcing her to revise her long-held opinion that football was created for idiots by idiots. And if he was bored by her literature talk, he was kind enough not to show it. The patient attention he showed was a long way from the kid who only cared about Hamlet because it had a skull in it.

The physical part of the relationship was progressing more slowly, because the time they spent walking and talking was time they couldn't spend exploring each other's bodies. She and Kevin still hadn't done more than French kiss—first base, Quinn would have called it, with a bit of a shudder—but for Daria, with her reticent nature and the still-present specter of Tom hovering over her, this was something of a blessing, even if her body wanted more. At the end of the month, the team and the move were going to keep them apart for a week, and Daria hoped she would understand her conflicting desires better by the end of that time.

Colleen, of course, was no help with any of it. For three weeks, she hounded Daria for vulgar details about her and Kevin, only desisting days before the move when Daria threatened to tiger-stripe her hair, with green stripes. And then, when Daria thought she might enjoy a brief interlude of peace, Colleen greeted her on the morning of the move with a hale, "Hello," and a hearty, "So, have you fucked him yet?"

"I knew this was a bad idea," Daria said, as Colleen got out of the U-Haul.

"What?" Colleen said, a wicked gleam in her eye. "Hiding your sexual escapades from your best friend in the whole college world?"

"I was thinking more that my best friend in the whole college world is a nymphomaniac. Aren't Irish Catholic girls supposed to be uptight?"

College laughed. "Daria, Daria," she said. "Haven't you heard about us Catholic school girls?"

"A point," she said. "But this Lutheran girl is more interested in getting moved in than satisfying your prurient interests."

Colleen looked around. "Speaking of prurient interests, where is the big goof?"

"Stuck at football practice. Kickoff Classic is four weeks away, so free time is pretty thin on the ground."

"No matter. Lets get your boxes in the truck. Gina and Jerry will be at my place and the others will meet us at the apartment with the furniture."

"That was your department." Colleen's grandfather was a carpenter, and she claimed the whole clan had picked up some of his expertise.

Daria's stuff was the work of less than an hour. Most of her things had still been packed from the move from Lawndale, and she wasn't much of a pack rat anyway. Aside from a couple of boxes of books, everything was pretty light.

Colleen's room took a little longer, as she was more of a clothes horse, but they were on their way to the new place soon enough, where they found close to a dozen warm bodies, as well as the promised furniture. Colleen was about to suggest a beer run when Daria stopped her.

"First rule of moving," she said. "Don't crack the beer until after everything is inside.

"How do you know that?" Colleen asked with a lopsided smile.

"We moved a bunch of times before settling in Lawndale and couldn't always afford to pay for movers," Daria replied. "Mom used to flip if Dad broke out the booze before we got all the boxes in. One move in took almost a week." She shook her head, mock sadly. "Oh, the traumas I endured."

Colleen did eventually go on the promised beer run, but not without heeding Daria's warning. Thus, unloading the truck was an orderly and efficient process. As she popped the top of her first beer of the day, Daria was satisfied: if the girls still had a crapload of unpacking to do, well, at least everything was in the right place to be unpacked. Some relaxation was in order.

Sadly, her relaxation was short-lived. Gina made the mistake of asking where her boyfriend was, which led to discussion of who her boyfriend was. Most of the other movers were friends of Colleen's or Jerry's and were unhealthily interested and how and why she was dating the varsity backup QB of the Fighting Irish. Daria patiently explained that she'd known Kevin for years, and his new status had nothing to do with their mutual attraction. None of the guys seemed to believe her. After the fifth go-round, even Colleen got disgusted—Colleen, who usually lived for awkward scenes. The redhead growled, drained her half-full beer, and said, "Alright. Party's over. It's time to go." Protests were quickly overridden and within a few minutes the two new roommates were alone in their apartment, Jerry and Gina having apologized before leaving last.

"Thanks, Colleen," Daria said. "I was about to snap at the end, there."

"Well, we went to all the trouble of moving you in. I"d hate to have to box up all your stuff and send it to prison." Colleen tried a chuckle, but it died into a sigh. "I'm sorry, Daria. We should have been more careful."

"Yeah," Daria said, rolling her eyes. "Careful. It doesn't make any sense, you know. Why should anyone care who Kevin is dating?"

"I know this is all weird shit for you, and you're way too independent to care about status crap, but other people aren't like you." Colleen suddenly looked sad. "And it's not going to get any easier from here on out."

"I know," Daria said. "And Colleen?"

The redhead gave her friend a searching look. "Yes?"

"Thank you."

Over the next few days, the girls settled into a routine. Since their summer classes were around the same time, they shared a morning pot of coffee and walked each other to campus. On the way, Colleen would tease Daria about Kevin, and Daria would tell Colleen to go to hell. Everything was good for Daria, except she missed her boyfriend over the course of those days. It wasn't until the next weekend that they finally got together.

Colleen thoughtfully made herself scarce so that Daria was alone in the apartment when Kevin came by. "Wow, Daria! This place is cool," he said, throwing himself on the old, but comfortable couch. "No TV, though."

"No," she said. "No one had an old one, and we don't feel like paying for cable on top of Internet fees."

He shrugged and smiled, "No worries." Putting his hands out, he added, "Come sit with me."

Daria hesitated for just a moment, old fears of intimacy warring with current desire. This is why you wanted Colleen out of the apartment, stupid, she berated herself. Finally, she slid in next to him on the couch and, ignoring the parts of her that said no, pulled his arms around her. She half-smiled at his satisfied hum.

"This is nice," she said, and meant it. "Now tell me about practice."

"Are you sure?" he asked, not moving.

"Of course," she replied. "If you don't, I'm going to start talking about symbolism in Russian literature and we'll both be unconscious in minutes."

He laughed, which made her happy, and launched into a description of what the coaches were having him work on. The starter got most of the practice time—or "reps," as he called it—but by leading the second string, he was learning to read college defenses and follow his progressions, something he never had to do in high school. Daria was again struck by how complex the job of quarterback was, and how much she had underestimated him over the years. Silently resolving not to do so in the future, she let him continue explaining the various types of plays the team ran and the greater variety of the starter's playbook. When she finally grew bored, she slid her arm around from in front of his, burrowing into his neck, so she could plant tiny kisses there in rapid succession.

"No more football?" His voice was half laugh and half moan of contentment.

"No more football," she said and begin running her hands through his hair.

The kisses became more serious, and Daria tried to let go of her innate objectivity and lose herself in pleasant sensations. For awhile she was successful, as she and Kevin exchanged kisses and caresses. His fingers, lightly touching, set her skin a-tingle in a way that nothing and no one ever had before.

Fingers sought buttons with fumbling urgency and soon both their shirts were on the floor. The touch of skin against skin further aroused Daria, but also woke the fears in her psyche. Instead of Kevin's adoring eyes, she once again saw Tom's flashing with something very close to heat, as he delivered his final denunciation, "I don't know why I ever wanted to sleep with you. It's like fucking a board." Before she could even banish Tom, Bryce was there too, with his oily charm and his lies, and Trent too, dismissing her with a glance as his "kid sister's friend."

Kevin noticed her sudden withdrawal. "Is something the matter, sweet lady? I'm not hurting you, am I?"

"No," Daria said softly, looking away from him. "It's fine. It's—" She paused for a deep breath. "I guess I'm just not used to feeling wanted."

Gently, he tipped her face up to his. "I can't imagine why. You're so smart and pretty and caring."

Part of her wanted badly to believe him, but her subconscious whispered tales of his thoughtless high school days. As she usually did when caught between conflicting emotions, she defaulted to sarcasm. "Of course I am," she said. "And will you still tell me that after we sleep together?"

"Sure, Daria," he said, and she could see the hurt register in his eyes. "I'll tell you every day if you want, because it's true."

A sudden sadness filled her. She had hurt him, and she'd wanted to hurt him. It was unfair. He wasn't Tom or Bryce or even the Kevin she'd known in Lawndale. He was a thinking, feeling person who wanted to make her happy, and she'd repaid him with her pain. "I'm sorry, Kevin," she finally whispered, as tears started in her eyes. "You must think I'm a total bitch."

"No," he said. "I'm not sure I understand, but I really like you, Daria, and I want to make you happy. Just tell me what to do, and I'll do it."

She thought about it for a long moment. As she met his eyes, she ignored the part of her screaming about Tom and Bryce and betrayal, and focused on his words. They offered freedom from regret and the possibility of happiness, if she could let the past go. Realizing that, for once, words would not get her point across, she slid her arms back around Kevin's neck and glued her lips to his. She felt his smile, and let go of her regrets.

Chapter 3: Unsportsmanlike Conduct

As the summer wound down, the transition to lovers was easier than Daria expected. After that first memorable night, thoughts of old heartbreaks faded and she became accustomed again to desire without guilt or fear. It helped that Kevin knew what he was doing, so she was always satisfied when they were done—a most welcome change from Young Thomas, who had been selfish in bed.

Their idyll ended as August died. The first game of the football season was September 2, and Kevin, a member of the varsity, if unlikely to play, was expected to be ready. This meant more frequent practices, more intense playbook study, and less time for relationships.

Daria also faced pressure as the school year started. She wasn't surprised to see the syllabi of her new classes larded with heavy reading and longer papers; after all, she was starting her first upper level coursework. What she was surprised at was her lack of anonymity.

She noticed the whispering right off. As she gathered her books after her first class, Lit Crit, she noticed that a clot of students was already gathered by the door. She could hear whispers as she walked past, and she could feel eyes on her as she left. She tried to convince herself she was being paranoid and they had no special interest in her, but when it happened again after her other two classes, she realized she couldn't put it aside.

Colleen, typically, told her it was no big deal. "Revel in it, Daria. After all, this is probably the first time you've ever been the object of romantic gossip."

Daria made a face. "Hardly. Between Upchuck making up rumors and Quinn basically telling the school I'd given it up when I hadn't, I've had enough of being someone else's story of the day to last a lifetime."

Colleen laughed. "Then dating a quarterback is a bad idea."

Daria soon began to think her roommate might be right. The next day, as she walked across the quad, Daria found herself confronted by two vaguely familiar girls of the cheerleader type. She tried to walk around them with only a quiet, "hey," but they moved to block her path.

"Excuse me," she said, annoyance coloring her voice.

"Just a tutor, huh?" the darker-haired of the two said.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Your boyfriend," the petite blonde said, drawing out the word mockingly.

Daria suddenly remembered where she'd seen the two girls before. "Am I going to see you all semester? Or will you finally find something better to do?" she said with a sneer.

"What do you mean?" The blonde's words earned her a hard look from her companion.

"It's bad enough that you bothered me when I was only tutoring Kevin. If you're going to start haunting me every day because I'm dating him, I'm going to have to take steps."

"She admits it!" The blonde said.

"It would hardly be much of a relationship if I wouldn't even admit it," Daria said. Fixing the two girls with her coldest stare, she added, "I'm done with this conversation. It's time for you two to go away now."

Her bluntness seemed to take them by surprise, and they wilted under her unyielding stare. After a moment they drifted away, trying to hide the fact that she'd run them off. She couldn't help but feel a certain satisfaction, but it was soon replaced with irritation, and she spent the rest of the day in a foul mood.

At dinner, Kevin wasn't any more help than Colleen had been. "I'm sorry it bothers you, Daria," he said, over cheap, but surprisingly good Chinese food. "but it's part of dating a QB." A hot retort bubbled up, but before she could say it, he continued. "I know you're dating me even though I'm a football player, not because I'm a football player, but no one else knows that."

She felt her anger ebbing, in the face of his keen perception. "Can't you explain to people?" she pleaded.

He laughed, "There's no point, Daria. People are going to think what they want to think until they stop caring. And what you and I say about it isn't going to change anything anyway."

"I don't deal well with being gossiped about, Kevin," she said. Once again, she was reminded of the rumor about her and Tom. Kevin had been on the other side of that, babbling about "love babes" and "making the touchdown." She tried hard not to transfer her anger at the younger, insensitive Kevin to the one sitting in front of her.

"I remember," he said. "I was an ass about it then, and I'm sorry I can't help more now."

"I know," she said. She smiled at him, but her smile was a little bit sad.

The rest of the night went well, and she woke feeling refreshed. She decided that since there was nothing she could to about the gossip, she just wasn't going to let it bother her. She didn't consider the fact that it might bother other people.

Her day started normally enough. After a week, she'd gotten used to the murmuring, so she didn't let it disturb either of her first two classes. The second one let out around noon, discharging into the kind of sun-dappled day that only the end of summer could deliver. As she felt the sunlight on her skin and saw how inviting the grass of the common looked, she made a quick change in plans. Instead of going to back to her apartment for lunch, she swung by the commissary, grabbed a sandwich and a soda, and found a tree against which she could relax. Thus established, she pulled out a novel and began to read as she ate.

The combination of the good weather, the pleasant setting, and the interesting novel so engrossed her that she didn't notice the new shadow falling over her.

"Hey, Daria," a diffident voice said. "Fancy seeing you here."

She looked up, irritated to be interrupted, into a face that seemed familiar.

"Don't recognize me?" he said.

Something clicked. "Oh. Hey, Eddie," she said, her tone neutral.

"That's all I get?" He smiled, but something seemed off.

The corner of her mouth turned down. "Well, all I got was a 'Hey, Daria, so it's only fair," she said.

Still smiling that slightly disturbing smile, he lowered himself to the ground, "Mind if I join you?"

"I don't," she said, in her flattest voice. "The tree might."

"Funny, Daria," he said. "You've always got a one-liner ready."

"I guess," she shrugged, "I just say what I think needs saying." She turned back to her book, hoping that he would take the hint.

He didn't. "What are you reading?" he asked, leaning forward and getting entirely too close, she thought.

"The Handmaid's Tale," she said, ice creeping into her voice, "and I'd like to get back to it."

"Whoa, whoa," he said, hands raised as if warding off an attack. "I'm just saying hello. Is that how you treat all your old boyfriends?"

"Boyfriends? What the hell are you talking about?"

"You know," he said and there was definitely something unpleasant in his expression, something that made Daria start slowly putting her things away, "before you dumped me for the football god."

Daria stood, as anger burst over her. "Delusional much?" she said in her most cutting voice. "In order to dump you, I'd have to have dated you more than once. Which, given that we had as much spark as a bucket of wet sand, was unlikely, to say the least."

He scrambled to his feet as well. "That hurts, Daria," he said, voice mocking, as he put a closed fist over his heart. "Right here. It's like you don't think about me at all." His feathers twisted into a leer. "I think about you all the time."

"Right now, I'd like to think about taking a shower for about three days," she said. "So if you don't mind, I'm going to go be somewhere else now, where I can look back on this conversion, laugh nervously, and pretend it never happened."

"I think about how you told me you didn't like football or care about football players," he said, ignoring or not hearing her. "And how you turned around and whored yourself out to one as soon as my back was turned."

Part of Daria's mind considered her situation. She'd chosen her spot because it was somewhat secluded, which meant violence was definitely possible. Eddie could hit her or hurt her before anyone could help. The nearest bystanders, a group of seven or eight girls chatting gaily about fifty yards away, might not even notice or care what was going on. The rational part of her mind suggested flight. But that wasn't the part of in charge.

Rage burned as her eyes narrowed to slits. "I don't know what the fuck your problem is," she snarled from behind clenched teeth, "but you'd better take it, and you, somewhere else or you will live to regret it."

It hung there for a minute, the air changed with anger turned white-hot while somewhere distant fear churned, until Eddie, voice breaking, whispered, "Fuck you." She could see the tears leaking from his eyes as he turned and ran off.

She didn't start to shake until she got back to the apartment.

By the time Kevin picked her up that night, she felt like herself again—or at least she told herself that. For dinner they went to a nice little bistro not too far from her apartment. The conversation over the meal was light and unmemorable until dessert, when seemingly out of the blue Kevin asked, "What's wrong?"

Her fork, full of cheesecake, stopped halfway to her mouth. "Nothing's wrong," she said, after a slightly-too-long pause.

"You sure?" Kevin asked. "You've seemed a little tense all night."

"Really," she said. "I'm fine. Nothing interesting happened. I went to class, I read, and then I went home." Her impression of calm serenity would likely have gone better if the hand holding her still-full fork hadn't started shaking ever so slightly.

"What happened, Daria?" His voice betrayed his worry.

She wanted badly to reassure him, to tell him that nothing happened, but when she looked into his brown eyes and saw the concern there, she realized she had to tell the truth.

She put down the fork and sighed. "I had a run-in with a guy I went out with once last year. He gave me a lot of crap for dating a football player and called me all sorts of names."

Kevin's face hardened. "Did he hurt you?" His naked anger was shocking. She realized she'd never seem him truly mad before. Even the old, thoughtless Kevin was a pretty happy-go-lucky guy and was rarely, if ever, intentionally mean.

"No," she said, voice soft. "I mean, he said some pretty ugly things, but he didn't touch me at all."

"Tell me what he said," he ground out through gritted teeth.

"I'd rather not, Kevin. It's not that important."

"Tell me what he said," he demanded, now biting off each word.

She sighed again, her desert now forgotten. "He called me a bitch and a whore," she said. "Several times. I got back in his face and he said, 'Fuck you,' and ran off."

His hands clenched into fists. "I'll kill him," he snarled.

Reaching across the table, Daria placed a hand over one of his fists. "That's not the answer, Kevin," she said.

"He hurt you, Daria," Kevin said. "And I want to hurt him back."

She looked away, suddenly unable to meet his flashing eyes. "I already did."

"You didn't do anything!"

"I know," she said, still looking down. "All I did was go out with someone and decide he wasn't for me. But he did get hurt." She sighed and looked up at him again. "And now he hurt me back, so maybe we're even and he can forget about it."

Kevin was silent for a long moment, and she wondered what was going on behind those brown eyes. When he finally spoke again, he sounded almost lost. "I don't understand, Daria. Do you want to forgive and forget?"

She quirked a half-smile at him. "I don't care about forgiveness. I just want to forget him." At his still-confused look, she added. "Forgiveness is for the important people in your life. Like it took me a long time to forgive Quinn for all the things she said and did over the years, but she's my sister, so I had to. I don't have to do anything with this guy except avoid him forever."

"What if you can't?" Kevin asked, concern replacing confusion. "What if he comes looking for you again?"

"Then I call the campus police," she said. "I get him arrested for stalking, and incidentally don't get you arrested for assault."

"It wouldn't come to that," he said. "And anyway, if it's for you, I don't mind—"

"Well, I do," she cut him off. "I won't have you mess with your scholarship and blow everything you've worked for over someone that doesn't matter."

"What if he bothers you when I'm there? I'm not going to listen to him talk shit about you while I'm standing there."

She quirked another half-smile. "If he's that desperate for a beating, I'll reconsider. But for now, let's drop it and finish our desert." With a decisive motion, she grabbed her fork and ate the piece of cheesecake she'd ignored. He stared at her for a moment longer, and then with a shrug and a smile, attended to his key lime pie.

Chapter 4: Interfering with the Catch

Daria saw neither hide nor hair of Eddie over the next couple of weeks and, with the semester getting into full swing, she was able put the ugly little confrontation out of her mind. It was less clear if Kevin had done so too, but he didn't bring it up, for which she was grateful. She was less grateful to discover that being an object of gossip wasn't the only side "benefit" of dating the QB.

"You want me to what?" she said, trying very hard to control her voice.

"I want you to come to the game this Saturday," Kevin said, sitting up from where he'd stretched out on her couch. "You've already missed the first two, and I think it would be nice to have you there."

From her seat on the floor with her back to the couch, she had to twist her head almost a hundred and eighty degrees to give him a really good glare. "Kevin, I don't know the first thing about football. I won't even know when to cheer! How can there possibly any reason for me to be there?"

"That's not true, Daria," he said, and she could see the hurt in his face. "Or have you just been humoring me when I talk about football?"

"No," she said, suddenly embarrassed. "I've been listening, because I know it's important to you and I want to understand it. It's just that..."

"It's just what?" His brown eyes were earnest, pleading.

"It's just that I'm full of shit," she said, realizing how selfish she was being. "If you want me there, I'll be happy to come."

His smile was like the sun lighting the morning sky. "That's great! I love you, Daria!"

She opened her mouth to reply but closed it as the import of his words sank in.

"Oh, crap," he said, seeing her expression. "I just did something wrong, didn't I?"

"No," she finally managed. "There's nothing wrong. I mean, I—" she paused to collect herself. "I guess I didn't expect to hear you say that so soon." She looked around as if trying to find someplace to sit, but when her eyes lit on the couch, she made no move toward it, not even when he moved to put his arms around her. "It's true," he whispered in her ear. "I love you. I think I've loved you for years."

"Really?" She leaned back to look at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, yeah," he said. "I mean, I did keep trying to get your attention in high school. It's just that I'm an idiot, so I didn't know what I was doing or how to go about it."

"You're not an idiot!" Her sudden fierceness shocked even her. "You're a remarkable, wonderful man, and I won't have you putting yourself down."

"I'm sorry, Daria." He looked away. "It's just that when everyone tells you you're stupid, you start to believe it."

"Well, stop it," she said, placing a finger on his cheek and turning him back to face her again. "I wouldn't waste my time with an idiot." Her kiss ended any and all discussion.

The game, it turned out, wasn't as bad as all that. Being packed into a (relatively) confined space with something like eighty thousand other people wasn't Daria's idea of a good time, but it was a crisp fall day with soft breeze that carried the fragrance of falling leaves even over the mass of humanity. Admittedly, she was far enough away and unfamiliar enough with the game that even with Kevin's explanations, the action on the field was a blur of confusion. She could easily see the score, though, and the down and distance, which was enough to give her a general idea of what was going on. She even found herself caught up in the action, cheering as wildly as anyone around her when a game-ending field goal gave Notre Dame a narrow win.

Finding Kevin after the game turned out to be more complicated than Daria would have thought. She knew she'd have to wait for him to shower and change, and possibly even deal with the media, but she hadn't grasped exactly how many people were streaming out of the stadium after a football game. She tried to wait near the exit he'd told her, but the sheer number of people pouring out of the stadium pushed her back from her place. After forty-five minutes, she was a hundred yards away and worried he would miss her in the crush, but soon enough his smiling face bobbed through the crowd to her side.

"Great game, huh Daria?" She fancied she could see the exuberance coming off in waves through the T-shirt and jeans that had replaced his uniform.

"Well, I'm hardly a football expert," she deadpanned as he slid arm around her, "but the defense played well against a pretty powerful offense, and the offense made the most of their opportunities late in the game."

"Daria!" Kevin almost shouted with unalloyed glee. "You amaze me. You were really into it, weren't you?"

"Well," she said, as he kissed her temple. "I was nervous at the end, especially since the kicker missed in the third quarter."

Kevin laughed, and kissed her again. "You and me both, pretty lady. But don't tell anyone on the team I said that."

"Said what?" She gave him a half-smile.

His eyes widened, "That I was worried the kicker would miss. I just told you."

She started to shake her head in exasperation, until she saw the smile creeping across his handsome face. I still need to stop underestimating him, she thought, even as the laughter welled out of her.

"Gotcha," he said, smiling even wider.

"You did," she said, and kissed him on the mouth as the crowds streamed around.

After a forever moment, they came up for air. "So what's on the agenda for now, comedian?"

"Dinner with my best girl," he said. "And then," he paused and fingered his collar.

"Out with it," she said.

"Well, it's kinda tradition to hit the team's post-game party. I know it's not your thing, so if you don't want to I understand, but I kinda really need to be there. It's another way to bond with the team, and I need to do that if I'm ever going to start." He gave her a pleading look.

She melted, giving him a half smile. "Sure. We'll do dinner and then hit your party. How bad could it be?"

Daria's words of course, came back to haunt her. The frat house hosting the party was a ramshackle many-storied Victorian with evident signs of disrepair including chipped paint and an unkempt lawn. Once inside, she found herself in a large, dimly lit room packed with people. Someone stuck a plastic pint cup in her empty hand, and the crowd seemed to flow, absorbing her and Kevin like a mad amoeba. Kevin give her hand a reassuring squeeze and said something, it it was impossible to make out over the babble of the crowd and with the jet engine whine of heavy metal music played at high volume. She gave him an uncertain smile and they started to circulate.

To make matters worse, Kevin was soon dragged off by a half dozen of what she guessed were teammates—guys so monstrously huge that she doubted she shared a species with them. Thanks to the music, she was unable to start a conversation even if she'd wanted to, she milled around the crowd, so she worked her way to a shadowy corner. She soon spotted Kevin near the keg. She wasn't sure what he was doing, but based on the body language of his gargantuan bodyguards, it was something stupid. With a sigh, she sank further into her corner.

For more than an hour, she stood in shadow, nursing whatever she'd been handed on her way in, fending off the occasional greeting, and wondering how she'd gotten herself into this. I could be more out of place, I suppose. If I showed up to a nudist camp in a burqa.

Suddenly, a loud woman's voice was in her ear. "Having a good time?" At least Dariathought that was what she heard, thought the obvious slur and the pounding music made it hard to tell. She tried to ignore the voice, but a blond-haired moon face filled her view.

"I said, are you having a good time?" The other girl mouthed the words with exaggerated care, irritating Daria all the more.

"Does it look like I'm having a good time?"

"It looks like you took a dump in your pants and you're hoping no one will notice." The other girl cackled shrilly. She was a large girl, from what Daria could tell in the dim light, tall, with broad shoulders, and a thick waist. Daria could tell she'd been drinking, but not how drunk she was.

"Well, I'd be grateful if you'd leave me to wallow in my own filth, then." Daria loaded her voice with as much venom as possible, but the other girl ignored it, if she even noticed.

"Aww, have a drink and loosen up."

"I'd like to, but if I get too loose, my limbs fall off."

The blond cackled again and took a swig from the cup in her hand. "So if you're not having a good time, why are you here?"

"I lost a bet." Daria looked down at the cup in her own hand. She wasn't sure what the liquid was, but even if the shadows, she could tell its color didn't appear in nature.

The girl gave her an owlish look. "Whatever. I'm here to get laid."

"Then why are you talking to me?" Daria asked.

"'snot time yet." The girl took another drink as a guy and a girl holding hands slipped past them and disappeared further into the shadows.

"You sure about that?"

"Tha's the first round," the girl said, her voice getting indistinct. "Once all the hotties get skimmed, girls like you n' me move in for the leftovers."

"Leftovers?" Daria was repelled, but also fascinated.

"Th'guys who don't hook up right away 'r still hard up. Tha's when we move in." She gave Daria an unsteady leer. "S'mtimes y' get lucky. A hot guy messes with a prick tease and she won' let him go all the way. 'f he's hard up, he won' care who he fucks." She gave Daria a conspiratorial wink that looked only slightly like a stroke victim trying to blink. "'ve had a couple of foo'ball players tha' way, c'n tell you."

Daria wanted to take a step back, but she was already against the wall and had nowhere to go. Instead, she scanned the room for Kevin, who was nowhere to be seen. "Where the hell are you, football boy?" she muttered.

"Whaddaya mean, foo'ball boy," her unwelcome companion demanded.

"I don't mean anything," Daria snapped. "I was thinking out loud."

The other girl pointed an unsteady finger at Daria. "Lookin' down yer nose , when yer here lookin' fer a foo'ball boy to fuck jus' like me. Yer full of shit." She stabbed her finger at Daria for emphasis, missing by a foot.

Stung, Daria snapped, "I'm waiting for my boyfriend, so I can get the hell out of here. If I'd known how awful it was going to be, I'd never have let him drag me here In the first place, team or no team."

The other girl's jaw went slack. "Y'r boyfrien's onna team?"

Daria folded her arms and fixed the other girl with her angriest glare. "What's it to you if he is?"

The other girl stared back for a long moment, while a rational part of Daria's mind, wondered if she'd just provoked a fistfight with a drunk. Instead, the blond dissolved into howls of laughter, her whole body shaking with mirth and spilling her drink into the bargain. "Dammit," Daria said, as unnaturally fluorescent liquid splashed her feet and leg, "These are good shoes!"

The thick girl's laughter, which had begun to subside, started again, but much to Daria's relief, she staggered off in search of a replacement drink.

Daria looked down at her feet and sighed. She decided to make one pass of the room to find Kevin, after which she was leaving, and if she had to call a cab, so be it. Before she could put her plan into action, a small commotion caught her attention.

"C'mon," another female voice said. "Le's do it. 'swhut we're both here for." She seemed, as far as Daria could tell, to be tall and willowy. The person shes was addressing was also tall, and broad shouldered.

He also appeared to be pulling away from her. "You're making a scene," he said in a harsh whisper that somehow cut through the ambient noise.

"M'not," she said, and swayed. "Though you said you wanted me."

"Not like this," he said. "You're falling down drunk, and it won't be fun for either of us." He finally pulled his arm from hers, and for a second it seemed she would fall. She somehow found her balance and even in the shadows, Daria could see the anger in eyes.

"Fine," she said. "If you won't fuck me, I'll find someone who will." She stumbled off and was hanging off another muscular arm in under a minute. From their body language, Daria guessed that this guy had no problem with taking a drunk girl to bed.

Her stomach churned with sudden nausea as she looked back to the abandoned guy. Their eyes met briefly; she saw the hurt and confusion in his eyes, and hoped he saw the sympathy and compassion in hers. For a moment, she was tempted to try to talk to him, but something stopped her and then he was gone. As she struggled to compose herself, Kevin finally appeared, a little unsteady on his feet, but not otherwise impaired.

"Thank God," Daria snapped. "Can we get the fuck out of here now, Kevin?"

"I gotta stay," Kevin said, a hangdog expression on his face. "That's why I wanted to find you. I called a cab. It'll be here in ten minutes."

Daria raked him with a glare. "So you left me for hours and then decided on your own that I'd want to leave?"

"But you just said you wanted to leave," Kevin said. "Besides, I figured if you didn't want to go, someone else would and they'd have a cab."

Daria took a deep, calming breath. She was still pissed off, but recognized that lashing out at a half-drunk Kevin wasn't going to solve anything. Besides, the big goof looked cute with his tousled hair and his hangdog expression. "Fine," she said. "Take me to the cab."

The cab pulled up to the house right on time. Daria opened the rear door, and then kissed Kevin on the cheek. Thank you. Have a good time, and give me a call in the morning to let me know you got home."

His face lit in a smile. "I will, Daria."

On the way back, she thought about the party and how much she hated the load, drunken mindlessness. She thought about the girls who where there for meaningless sex or to prostitute themselves to the team or anyone associated with it. But mostly, she thought about tousled hair and a big goofy grin.

Chapter 5: Unfair Act

"It's just that the culture is so appalling," Daria said. "All these spoiled little princelings with no one to say them nay. Women lining up to be used and thrown away like toilet paper."

"It was like that in high school, too," Quinn replied. Quinn's experience with Lawndale jock culture made her a better choice for this conversation than either Jane or Colleen. "It's just that everyone's more obnoxious because the prizes are so much bigger."

Phone receiver to her ear, Daria sprawled across the couch, an untouched cup of tea on the coffee table next to her. Both table and couch were finished cherrywood, made by mysterious members of Colleen's extended family—or even Colleen herself for all Daria knew. Fluffy white cushions set off the light brown of wood and gave Daria something to sink into when she needed comfort, which she did very much at that moment. "How did you deal with it?"

"I ignored it, Daria. You know that," Quinn laughed, but Daria heard a trace of bitterness. "I did my stuck-up airhead thing, and I got whoever I wanted to take me to dinner and buy me things." Daria could almost see her sister's grimace. "And I made damn sure that at the end of the night there was door between me and whatever jock had just taken me home."

"It's a little late for that," Daria said acidly.

Quinn laughed again, this time with real amusement. "And who would have pictured that, back at Lawndale?"

"You're not helping, Quinn."

"Sorry, sis." She didn't sound all that sorry. "What does Colleen think of all this?"

At the mention of her roommate, Daria looked down at her tea. Damn Colleen for hooking me on this stuff anyway. I was perfectly happy with seven cups of coffee a day. "She thinks it's great. She's all for people having sex in general, and me in particular. But it's not the sex I'm bothered by, it's the culture of entitlement. And she doesn't see it."

"Does Kevin?"

"Good question, sis," Daria said. "We haven't really talked about it, because I want to be able to explain what I'm thinking, which I can't do when I'm still not sure what I'm thinking."

"Well, he's obviously not the same guy he was in Lawndale, or you wouldn't be together. In fact, you'd probably have killed him by now—"

"I almost did a few times," Daria cut in, getting a chuckle from Quinn.

"But you're happy with him, right?"

"Yeah, I am." Daria was glad Quinn couldn't see the drippy smile on her face.

"Maybe you shouldn't worry too much about it." Quinn said. "You can't change jock culture, Daria. And you don't need to change Kevin. Just let yourself be happy."

"I know," Daria said. "It's just—"

"It's just—" Quinn mocked. "I love you, sis, but you're not changing the world. You're just dating a guy. And you're lucky, because he's a good guy, and he's making you happy without conditions or limits. When and if that changes, you can rethink. For now, enjoy yourself."

"You're right, Quinn."

"I'm always right."

"Nice try. I love you, sis."

"I love you too."

Daria tried to keep Quinn's advice firmly in mind over the next few weeks, but it was difficult. For one thing, she and Kevin had much less time together. Three of the next four games were on the road and as the backup QB, Kevin had to travel with the team. Of Kevin's remaining free time, some was spent on tutoring, leaving little relationship time. Daria frequently reflected that a canceled practice was about the only way they were going to get quality time together.

A rainy midweek day in October gave Daria some hope. After slogging around campus for her morning classes, she decided to call it a day, head back to the apartment, and give Kevin a call. Colleen was also home, and entertained herself by leering outrageously as Daria made the call. After 11 rings, she gave up, threw herself on the couch and sighed.

"No luck, huh?" Colleen said, patting Daria on the shoulder.

"I'm surprised you're sympathetic," Daria said. "Now you can stay in the apartment."

"With you," Colleen said. "Not such a benefit that I'm willing to dance a jig."

Daria absently grabbed a pillow from the couch and tossed it over her shoulder. "What are we going to do now?"

"Throw a wild party, get a bunch of hunks over here, and have meaningless sex until dawn?" Colleen said.

From her spot on the couch, Daria could only imaging her friend's smirk. "Try again."

"We could always just have people over. Jerry and Gina and a couple of others," Colleen said. "We'll have some wine, play a game, talk. It could be nice." As Daria nodded, Colleen added, "And then I'll go and look for meaningless sex."

Rolling her eyes, Daria reached for the phone again. Within a couple of hours, there were eight people at the apartment. Jerry and Gina were around the coffee table playing Settlers of Catan with another couple they were friends with—a heavyset white guy with a petite and pretty Chinese girl. Daria and Colleen paired up at the card table for euchre against Keith and John, interchangeable dark-haired guys with five o'clock shadow who were friends of Colleen's. Laughter and good cheer filled the apartments, with friendly beers at everyone's side, when the doorbell rang.

Across the table, Daria gave Colleen a puzzled look. The redhead shrugged. "Don't look at me. I wars worried eight people might make you spook and flee to the library. I certainly wasn't going to invite any more."

Still confused, Daria answered the door to find Kevin in the doorway, flowers in his hands and a big smile on his face. "Hey, Daria! I had the afternoon free..." His words died as he took in the all the people.

Hiding her surprise and confusion, Daria relieved Kevin of the flowers. "Thank you," she said. "Come on in, and grab a beer. We're just hanging out and playing cards and stuff."

She saw a challenge in Kevin's eyes as he looked at her, but he ambled off to the fridge amiably enough. When he returned, beer in hand, she put an arm around him and pointed everyone out. "You know Jerry and Gina, and these are their friends Mark and Chun Yi." The couple gave Kevin a quick nod and went back to the game. "And Keith and John are friends of Colleen's." When John gave Kevin a friendly wave, she thought they were home free, but then Keith looked up. "A quarterback, forsooth!" he said, striking an exaggerated pose. "Gracing our humble games. My life hath seen its crown."

Kevin frowned, but managed to be polite. "Hey. I'm Kevin Thompson. Nice to meet you all."

Daria gave him what she hoped was a comforting squeeze before sitting back down to her game. Fortunately, Keith didn't feel the need for any more declaiming, so Kevin was able to settle in.

Euchre is a fast game, so they were able to finish up in less than ten minutes, Daria and Colleen handily victorious. As the cards were cleared away, John said, "So do you play cards, Kevin?"

"Uh, yeah," Kevin said. "Gin, Rummy, Poker, Blackjack. My dad taught me."

Daria could have sworn she heard the words "go fish" from Keith's vicinity. If he'd said it louder, she would have thrown him out then and there, but her innate fairness and the knowledge that it would bother Kevin made her hold her tongue.

"We usually play trick-taking games like Hearts, Spades, Euchre, or Bridge," John said, "Someone can sit out if you want to play."

"I don't think so," Kevin said, looking more and more uncomfortable. "I'll just watch if you don't mind."

"Suit yourself," John said, and proceeded to deal Hearts. Daria, dividing her attention between the game and assessing her boyfriend's mental state, didn't do particularly well at either. The only conclusion she reached was that if she felt awkward, Kevin must be verging on panic. She was secretly relieved when he wandered off to watch the other game.

"This should be good," Keith said to John in a not-quite-private aside, inclining his head toward Kevin. Any fellow-feeling Daria might have had for John died with his amused snort.

"I don't feel well," she said, dropping her cards face-up. "I think I'm going to bed." Ignoring Colleen's worried look, she gave everyone a hard glare and stood. "Try not to trash the place behind my back."

Slamming her bedroom door felt good, even better than the petty way she ruined the game for those two assholes. Silent rage at Keith and John, and to a lesser extent at t men in general, kept her mind occupied for an hour. Meanwhile, she alternately hoped Kevin would get lost and waited for him to come in. It was Colleen, however, who eventually eased the bedroom door open.

"I thought you didn't like drama," she said, dispelling any notion that she was going to go easy on her roommate.

"Sorry," Daria snapped, without raising her head from her pillow. "I'm allergic to assholes. Especially when they come into my house and abuse my boyfriend."

"Kevin's a big boy. He can handle it."

"That's not the point!" Daria said, finally sitting up. "They should know better than to act like that."

"Well, they think they're funny—Keith especially." The room was still dark, but Daria fancied she could see Colleen's impish smile. "Not like we know anyone else like that."

"Shut up."

"That'll larn me. For what it's worth, I had no idea, Keith had such a bug up his ass about athletes. Of course," she added after a moment, "I had no idea Kevin was going to be here..."

"Yeah, well," Daria signed. "Did he hang around at all?"

"Keith? He looked like he was going to go off on you until he get a look at Kevin's face. His thing about athletes doesn't involve fighting them." She chuckled. "Kevin stared at your door for a few minutes and left. The others followed. You've got to admit, that kind of blow up is really kind of a buzzkill."

"It has its points," Daria said, suddenly feeling tired. "Night, Colleen."

A heavy pause filled the air, as if Colleen wanted to say something, but couldn't decide what. She finally settled on, "Night, Daria," and closed the door.

Things with Colleen were back to normal by the next morning. Daria wished she could say the same thing about Kevin. Consecutive weeks of travel with the team meant they didn't see each other at all, and when he got back, he seemed different—less enthusiastic and more reserved. When she suggested that he pick their nest date destination, he was ambivalent.

"Whatever you want, Daria," he said, as she frowned at the receiver.

"What I want is for us to have a good time, Kevin," she said, trying not to let the irritation leak into her voice. "If you have a good time, I will too."

"Okay," he said, after a long moment. "Let's hit the burger place and then do a movie."

"Sounds good," she said. They chatted for a minute or two before a mutual goodbye that left Daria uncomfortable.

Kevin turned up at the door right on time, but when Daria said, "Let me get my coat and we can go," he began to fidget.

"Can I come in?" he finally said. "I think we need to talk."

A stab of uncertainty robbed her of speech, so she simply nodded and made room for him. Rather than sprawl on the couch, as was his usual habit, Kevin paced back and forth nervously.

"What is it, Kevin?" Daria finally burst you. "You're making me nervous."

"I'm already nervous," he said. "This is important, but I'm not sure how to say it. I'll probably say it wrong because I'm stupid and then you'll hate me."

"You're not stupid!"

The flash of anger seemed to focus him. He dropped to the couch, and she slipped in next to him without speaking. The silence grew heavy.

"It's all wrong," Kevin finally burst out. "It's not supposed to be! I finally find a girl who likes me for me and not what I can do on a football field, someone who makes me be a better me, someone who it feels right to love, and everything still feels wrong."

"What's wrong?" she asked, as she put a gentle hand on his shoulder. The squeeze in her gut that had started when Kevin arrived continued to tighten as she added, "Is it something I did?"

He shook his head no, but the tightness inside of her didn't recede. "Then tell me what feels wrong."

"I'm only happy with you when it's only me and you," he said after a moment. "You hate the football scene, and I can't hack your friends." At her frown, he added, "Colleen's cool, but Jerry and Gina look at me like a lab experiment. And that other asshole and his buddy—"

"Are not my friends." Daria cut him off. "I've never met them before and if I have my way, I'll never meet them again."

"Yeah, but that's the kind of guy you should be with." Kevin said, looking away. "Smart. Well-read. Quick with a comeback that's more complicated than 'Fuck you' or 'I know you are, but what am I?'"

"Kevin," Daria said, heart pounding so loudly she was sure the other tenants could hear it. "Are you breaking up with me?"

"No," he said, trying to meet her eyes and failing. "I don't know. I don't want to break up with you. I love you."

"I love you too, Kevin," she said, almost in wonder.

"But if I love you," he continued as if he hadn't heard, "but I'm not good for you, I should be strong enough to let you go."

"What do you mean, not good for me? Look at me, Kevin," she said, standing up. "I just said I love you." Visions of Tom swam in her head. "That means something."

"It does, Daria," he said, rising and taking her hands. "It means a lot. But can you still love me if I'm the starting QB on a major college bowl team? When I stop being Kevin who you can talk to and tutor, and start being the kind of Mr. Big Time Football Star I could only dream of in Lawndale? And you have to go along for the ride?"

She couldn't suppress the involuntary shiver picturing herself on Kevin's arm with a microphone shoved in her face expected to gush for the cameras on command.

"Or even worse," Kevin said, locking on to her hesitation and boring in. "Could you love me when you're teaching four classes a year and I'm working three days a week selling cars? Even if I get my degree, I'll be lucky to pull a C+ average, and I've heard enough to know that's not enough to make me a sure thing in the white-collar world."

Another picture swam up in Daria's memory, this one not real, but compelling anyway: Trent, balding and unkempt, beaten by life and dragging her down with him. Could that happen to Kevin?

"Don't you think we're moving a little too fast, Kevin? We're both sophomores. We're allowed to relax and enjoy each other. Even Quinn said that."

The mention of Quinn's name won a brief smile from Kevin, but it disappeared. "It's just I feel like we've moved past 'enjoying each other.' That's what I did with Brittany."

"That was a different you, Kevin," Daria said.

"That's the point. I don't want a 'babe' or someone to hang off my arm. I want something real. And I have that with you, and I love it. I want to get serious, but I don't see we can get serious and not hurt each other really, really badly."

Daria started to say that of course they weren't going to hurt each other, that couples always hurt each other, but they would—and then she stopped. Her racing heart quieted and the fear receded, replaced by clarity. "I understand," she said softly. "I understand, and I'm sorry." He said nothing, so she continued. "We've both reached the point where we want to get serious, and part of getting serious is thinking about spending our lives together. And our lives don't fit together. You and I are compatible, but our worlds aren't, and sooner or later that's going to pull us apart."

He nodded, the tears standing unshed in his eyes. "I'll stay with you, Daria, if you want me to. We can suffer together."

"But you don't think it's right," she said.

"I don't think it's right."

For a long moment, she said nothing, regretting what wouldn't be but knowing she—he was making the right choice. "I think I love you more right now than I will ever love anyone," she said softly. "But you're right. We can't be together, not and still be who we are."

"We can still be friends, though," Kevin said, as he stood. The tears were streaming down his cheeks, and her own vision was getting blurry.

"Of course," she said. "We'll always be friends. Nothing will change than." Then, she jumped up from the coach and threw her arms around him and kissed him, wildly, fiercely, wishing she never had to let go, as the tears streamed down her checks and mingled with his. Finally, they broke apart, this time for good.

"Good-bye, my friend," he said, a trace of the old Kevin Thompson smile appearing through his tears.

"Good-bye, my friend," she said, and waved forlornly as he opened the door and walked out. "Good-bye my love," she added in a whisper once the door had closed behind him. Then she threw herself on the couch and cried until there were no tears left. Colleen found her there and put her to bed, several hours later.

The next day passed in a haze for Daria. She was pretty sure she went to class that day, but she wasn't sure they were the right classes. Only Colleen's concern really registered, but as a light breeze, trying and failing to do more than ruffle the edges of a dense fog.

Fortunately, the condition didn't last. Within a couple of days, Daria was, if not back to her old self, at least once more focused on her life, much to Colleen's relief.

"I don't mind saying you had me worried for the last couple of days," Colleen said over after-dinner tea. "I didn't think Kevin had it in him to hurt you that badly."

"He didn't." Daria took a sip from her cup. "I think that's part of why I came out of it so far. When Tom dumped me, I was out of it for a week." At Colleen's frown, she added, "It was early in the semester. I don't think we'd starting hanging out that much yet."

"In that case I'm glad I missed it," the redhead said. "You were frightening enough with the crying all night and then waking up and mumbling, 'Have to get to class,' over and over."

"And how is me being worried about getting to class unusual, let along disturbing."

"It was Sunday, Daria," Colleen said with asperity and put down her cup.

"Oh," Daria said, in a small voice. A faraway look came into her eyes. "You know," she added, "that explains a lot."

Colleen just sighed, a heavy put-upon sigh. "I don't want to know. Just... are you going to tell me what happened. I'm no expert in long-term relationships, but you seemed to be going good, and next thing, Dump City."

"It wasn't quite that."

"Then tell me what it was."

"Okay," Daria said, and took another sip of her tea. "We're good now, but we're not going to stay good. We broke up now before we got in even deeper. Our lives are going to pull us apart no matter what we do."

Colleen took a moment to let it sink in and then let out an explosive breath. "That has got to be the dumbest reason I have ever heard for breaking up. Did football boy take too many hits without a helmet?"

"It wasn't dumb at all," Daria said, fighting down the wave of anger at her friend's words—anger that would help nothing. "It was one of the wisest and bravest things I've ever seen. Think about it, Colleen," she reached out for her friend's hand. "Kevin and I, we had this little narrow window where who we are and what our lives are like would let us be happy, and we were. But the window is closing, and Kevin realized, even before I did. I would have clung, just like I clung to Tom, and I would have hurt so much more."

"But—" Colleen seemed stuck for something else to say.

"But he was right. Our time with each other was a gift—something we loved and learned from. And now it's over, like it was meant to be. Because I can't be the starting QB's girlfriend at a football factory like Notre Dame, and he's not suddenly going to love discussing Chaucer over bridge, or get excited about losing me in the stacks of whatever grad school I end up in."

Much to Daria's irritation, Colleen didn't seem to be listening anymore. Instead, she was shifting around on the couch, looking for all the world like she was trying to find something. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for pods," Colleen said, straight-faced. "You're obviously not Daria, with all that love and destiny talk, so you must be an alien. If I prove it, I'll be rich."

"I hate you," Daria said, a half-smile taking the sting out of her words. "You are too damn much like Jane."

"I've said it before and I'll say it again" Colleen smiled, "Jane is a wise and perceptive woman." She picked. up her cup again and sipped. "I still think you're nuts. But if you're okay with how things ended with Kevin, I'm not going to talk you out of it. Only—"

"Only what?"

"Don't start spelling woman with a 'y,' eh?" She never saw the pillow that hit her, spilling her tea all over her slacks.

By mutual agreement, Daria found someone else to continue Kevin's tutoring. Just because they weren't angry at each other, she reasoned, didn't mean they needed to torture each other with close contact with the breakup still so recent. The free time was nice, in a way. She had more time for her own studies again, and more time for phone conversations.

Of course, explaining her breakup to Jane didn't exactly go well. The fact that she'd had to hang up after five solid minutes of Jane laughing at her was bad enough, but Colleen constant refrain of, "What'd Jane say? C'mon, tell me what Jane said?" for two days straight finally drove Daria to her room.

The conversation with Quinn went more smoothly. Daria was surprised at her sister's perception. "I'm not surprised that you couldn't just have fun," Quinn said when Daria told her about the breakup, "but I'm surprised Kevin couldn't do it either."

"Yeah," Daria said. "That was a surprise to me, too. It was pretty amazing, though."

"I'm sure it was." the redhead said. "He was probably right, though. You're both who you are, and you had to change so much just to make it work for a little while. I don't think either of you could have changed more." Suddenly, she laughed.

"I got enough of that with Jane," Daria said, nettled.

"I'm sorry, Daria. It's just not only are you the only person I know who would trade happiness now against misery later, but you even got Kevin Thompson to do it for you. I think you might be too good for this world."

"I'm not a saint, Quinn." Daria frowned. "You of all people should know that."

"Oh, I do, sis." Quinn chuckled again, and Daria could almost see her sister's evil grin on the other end of the line. "I'm just glad your self-righteous streak is only a mile wide now."

"You know, if I wanted abuse I could just talk to Colleen. I don't have to waste long-distance minutes on you."

"I'm more stylish about it," Quinn said. "Just," her tone turned serious. "Don't shut yourself in. You went through a lot with Tom, and the other guys, and now this—"

"This is not like Tom," Daria said firmly. "Being with Kevin was good. I'm ready for what's next, not afraid of it."

"I'm glad to hear," Quinn said. "I love you, sis."

"I love you too, sis," Daria said. After hanging up, she realized that she meant what she said. She loved Kevin, and part of her always would, she thought, but she was ready for what came next, even if it came the next day.

Actually, it was most of a week before a freckle-faced boy with a shock of blond hair, a lopsided smile, and the most gorgeous eyes she'd ever seen asked her out of coffee. Her answering smile as she said yes was radiant.