Sisters and Friends

Chapter 2

Curiouser and Curiouser

"Hey, Morgendorffer," smiled Annie, tray in hand.

"Sit. You don' t have to ask." Quinn glanced at Annie's tray. "What's with the rabbit food? You're not copying me, are you?"

"Nah, just kinda lost my appetite after that damn Flannery O'Connor story discussion. How did she think of those horrible things anyway? I thought everything was peachy keen in in 1953. I mean, women wore heels with aprons in the kitchen, and men smoked pipes while they made birdhouses wearing ties."

"Well, it was only eight years after World War II. We had dropped atomic bombs on civilian targets, and learned about the Holocaust. By then, veterans had begun to mainstream into American society, men who were in their teens when they had to see and do horrible things as soldiers. I think the rosy life-is-good veneer was something we had to have to hold onto sanity." Quinn put her fork down. "God, I sound like my sister."

Annie started in on her salad. "Sounds like your history teacher was better than your English teacher."

Quinn laughed. "Yeah, I guess he was. Poor guy had to deal with us not paying attention and not giving a crap about what he and his generation had gone through in Vietnam. I should send him an apology."

"You should, if you think about it. People should apologize to each other more. My dad-" Annie fell silent, and after a while, put her fork down. She pushed her salad away. "I'll be right back." She stood and walked back into the serving area.

What was that about? Did I say something that got her upset? Quinn turned in her seat to look for Annie, but didn't see her. She had left her backpack, so Quinn settled in to wait, waking the E reader.

She began reading the story for the second time, finding it just as upsetting as the first time through. Ugh. Too close to lunch. Guess I spotted a little cloud on the horizon. Well, it can wait; if she wants to elaborate, she will, and I'll listen then.

Annie reappeared, sitting down with a sigh. "Fuck it." She handed Quinn a spoon. "Feel free. I shouldn't eat all of this anyway."

"And here I was thinking that you were a nice girl. You suck flying monkey butt," Quinn smiled, staring at the ridiculous ice cream sundae in front of Annie.

The two young women ate the dessert with gusto. After polishing it off, Quinn got up to get two bottles of water to cut down the sweetness.

"You know, this will make people think we're gay. I'm not, and I don't think you are," the redhead said, reclaiming her seat. She set a bottle of water in front of her friend.

"Thanks. Nope, not gay. But this will keep the dumber guys away for a while, so whatever. Who cares what people think?" Annie crossed her arms, and then caught herself.

"Yeah, right," Annie muttered, more to herself than to Quinn. "I guess I decided to try to not care about that, since it causes so much stress when you find yourself trying to be someone that you're not."

"That's a hard thing to get away from," Quinn sighed, leaning back into her chair. "It's about labels, appearances, being manipulated into questioning your self image so you follow someone else's dictates like so many fashion sheep."

"Yeah, but that's easy to say when you already look good. No matter what we should think, we judge other people by their appearance. I mean, I looked at you and decided you weren't some kind of nutcase. Maybe I'm wrong." Annie smirked. "I don't think I am, but that's why I'm talking to you. I'm trying to see who's behind the pretty redhead exterior, dressed casually like a smart, upper middle class college girl who goofed off in high school and wound up here." Annie tilted her head, curved fingers held to her lips. "I'm guessing penitent former fashion nazi."

"Oh God," Quinn laughed. "Nailed it."

"Okay, your turn. What the hell am I? And don't say mysterious."

Quinn studied the young woman, her dark eyes meeting her own. They sparkled with the same bright fire that lit Daria's eyes, but she was her own, non-conforming, not-quite-fitting-in, fiercely independent person. She looked carefully; noting the hands, the body language, the clothing. "Okay, here goes. I'd guess that you are a creative person. You're an outsider, not a joiner, have an excellent eye for details, and don't much give a shit about trends. You can make pair of jeans look good, and you do care about what guys see, at least what you choose to show them."

Annie blushed slightly, shaking her head with a small smile. "I guess I did ask for it," she laughed.

"You're bright, want to be an architect, and you like cats and thrift stores."

"Alright already. I gave you that architect bit, if I remember correctly. I mentioned Raft's architectural school."

"That, and the graphite around your nails."

"What about the thrift store thing?"

"Lucky guess. You're smart and creative, and probably resourceful. Daria and Jane like going to those. Daria likes the cheap books and music, Jane loves buying weird shit to glue together. I'm also guessing," Quinn ventured carefully, "that you don't have unlimited funds."

"True. Actually not as bad as I thought, but I'll still be working to get through college. I do want to get my cores out of the way at Lawndale State, and then try for a better school."

"Same here. Didn't feel right to piss away my parent's money when I don't really know what I want to major in." And Daria deserves it more than I do. She worked for it, I didn't. She was the one who took the AP classes, held the 4.0 GPA, got the scholarships, and look where she is now.

"How'd you know about the cat thing?"

"Your thrift store T shirt," smirked Quinn. "Very cool and vintage."

Annie laughed. "God, I forgot. My favorite!"

"Who was F. Frederic Skitty? Is that a cigar or a joint he's smoking?"

"Definitely a joint. Don't worry, I'm no stoner. I actually found this in my mom's old stuff in the attic and she gave it to me. Said she used to wear it to piss off her parents- it's a character out of a '70s hippie comic book."

Quinn smiled. "My parents were hippies. You should come over for dinner tonight since you're wearing that shirt; got plans?"

"Nothing beyond homework. Sure, if you're offering free food, we college students are required to accept it."

A/N: Google the Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers and Fat Freddy's Cat. Still in publication by the Rip Off Press.