821 words for Daria's no-good-very-bad morning. Set post-series.
Prompt: "It's like you always said: There's nothing a little sunshine can't fix." (From downwithwritersblock on Tumblr)
Written for my 2019 Summer Prompt Challenge on Ao3.
Sunshine
It was a foggy day in Boston, the air smelled vaguely of fish and the bus was - per usual - stuffed like a sardine tin.
Daria ignored all this in favor of reading a book with one arm hooked around a center bar. People knocked into her left and right, but headphones and the aforementioned book kept people from actively trying to interact.
Except, of course, the creepizoid staring at her from the seat nearby. He'd moved over the course of the last three stops. Closer each time.
It was a good thing her book was a big one. She might need a weapon apparently. Damn public transportation.
"Are you alright, miss?" Someone tapped Daria on the shoulder. A woman, older, grey hair and muumuu. She was shooting creepizoid sidelooks.
Daria attempted to smile, failed, and then shrugged. She took out one of her headphones too, which seemed to make the woman relax a bit.
"Would you like me to get off with you at your stop?" The woman's words made Daria's jaw dropped. "Oh, dearie, I don't mean to offends! I was just-"
"Thank you." Daria blurted out. She tried to smile again, with marginal success even. "I appreciate the offer, but my friend is meeting me at my stop." Daria nodded towards her phone, which was in her pocket blasting Nickleback. "And I don't want to inconvenience you."
The woman let out a breath, "Oh, good." She glanced at creepizoid again and lowered her voice, "Men like that give me the heebie-jeebies."
Daria nodded, "Agreed." The woman stayed next to her until the next stop, when they both watched as creepizoid got off, alone. "I guess he realized we weren't good prey."
"I wish I could laugh at that," the woman sighed, patted Daria's shoulder, and went to take creepizoid's seat before someone else grabbed it.
Headphone popped back in, Daria returned to her book. The maiden was just about to slay the knight and abscond with a dragon's egg.
Today might actually be be a good day after all.
And that was when everything sent to hell. She'd jinxed herself. All of Boston kindly suffered with her, or at least everyone else on the bus. It broke down. The engine was literally smoking as they were all evacuated to the sidewalk.
Daria took one look at the crowd of people and decided she could walk the last mile to school. It was only a few more blocks and the weather wasn't THAT bad.
Cue the lightning.
The fog was added in its goals of peak horror movie madness by a sudden thunderstorm. Complete with torrential downpour. Electing to save her book - which was technically a library book at that - she shoved it into her backpack.
She sent off a quick text to her friend from class that she'd be late, and not on a bus, and then another venting to Jane. Both responded with emojis.
Daria trudged through the rain, glad she was wearing her signature boots and jacket. Except for the jeans. She was very NOT happy to be wearing denim that was officially chafing.
This was why she wore skirts. Damn the wind, damn gender norms. Skirts did not chafe when wet!
When she finally made it to class her professor gave her a withering look as she dripped on the floor. She squelched as she sat. Tamlin, her friend, had taken notes, which she gladly shifted towards Daria.
There was some finagling to be done so she didn't drip on Tamlin's notebook or her own. But she started to dry and she had fairly quickly copied Tamlin's notes down and caught up on the lecture.
It was, sadly, about the genius of F. Scott Fitzgerald. There was no mention of his theft of Zelda's work and when she brought it up the professor gave her another withering look.
Daria slowly accepted that she was going go have to write her final paper on Zelda Fitzgerald, just to prove a point. She didn't even like her that much… damn principles...
It was another couple blocks in the rain to meet Jane for lunch. She tried not let her jealousy gnaw too much when she saw Jane was 100% dry.
"What? I carry an umbrella." Jane pushed her coffee towards Daria. "You look like you need this more than me." Daria took it, held the warm cup in her hands and sighed.
She was out of the rain, that was progress.
"Hey, the rains letting up!" Jane pointed towards the window. It was indeed letting up. The damn sun was out even.
Jane grinned, her lips lopsided, as she patted Daria on the arm, "It's like you always say: There's nothing a little sunshine can't fix." Daria's glower deepened.
"I am not afraid to go to jail, Lane." She sipped the coffee. "Three hots and a cot, right? Murders a small price to pay."
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