Quinn turned to Daria as they pulled away from the house. "Thanks again for giving Stacy and I a ride school, Daria."
Daria kept her eyes on the road. "I'm giving Jane a ride because she has to bring some stuff to school. You two are just lucky you're going to the same place."
"Well thanks anyway," Quinn said. She quietly watched the houses go by for a few minutes, then ventured, "So, how's work?"
"It's work, Quinn. Believe it or not, it hasn't changed in the one day I've been there since you last asked."
"Oh, sorry," Quinn replied, cowed.
Daria sighed. "Sorry, Quinn, it's early." She paused, then continued, "I suppose you want me to ask you how your day in the theatre program was?"
Quinn tried not to show how much she did, managing to look away and say, "Well, if you're curious…"
"Fine." Daria faked a peppy, interested voice, "'How was your day Quinn?'"
Quinn ignored her sister's sarcasm and started talking excitedly. "Well, I spent most of the day reading the play, but I met some really cool people. Not y'know cool cool, like popular, but cool like they didn't care what people thought. Confident. There are these two brothers who just moved here, Steven and Alex; they're totally into theatre. Steven is totally cute—"
"I thought you weren't dating this summer?" Daria accused.
"God, Daria, I'm not dating, but I'm not dead. Besides— No never mind. What was I saying?"
"You were making an obvious attempt to cover up a slip, but why don't you just tell me what you and your new friends tried out for."
Quinn blushed. She was embarrassed at being caught out, but happy that Daria was letting it go. She really was trying. "Well," she said, "I tried out for Hermia—"
"A girl pursued by all the men around her, seems appropriate."
"I thought so. Anyway, Alex was trying out for Puck, and Steven tried out for Bottom. But Mr. O'Neill asked him to read Oberon's lines a lot in the audition, so maybe he'll get that. He's really good."
"And how were you?" Daria asked as she pulled up to Jane's house.
Quinn faltered. "My audition was…"
Daria waited for a moment, then got out of the car. "Right, you try to figure that out while I go get Jane." Halfway up the walk she added, "And get in the back, Jane gets shotgun."
Quinn got out of the car and pushed the seat forward so she could climb in the back. Two door cars were way cuter than four door ones, but they were really annoying to get in and out of. She sat in the back for several minutes while Daria waited at the Jane's front door. Finally, Jane appeared, holding a large travel mug of what had to be coffee in her left hand and a lumpy, heavy looking duffel bag in her right. Daria and Jane walked out to the car and Daria popped the trunk for Jane. After the weird bag was in the trunk, the two climbed in the car. "Hi," Quinn offered.
"Mnh." Jane said and took a pull from her mug.
"You'll have to excuse Jane," Daria explained, "She has a hereditary condition that keeps her from speaking before she's had her morning coffee."
Jane put her mug in the cup holder. "More of an occupational hazard really. A great artist never gets up before noon without a good reason," she corrected groggily.
Daria turned on the car and looked back at Quinn. "2401 Willow, right?"
Quinn nodded. "Yeah, thanks again Daria."
Daria pulled away from the Lanes'. "Like I said, you're just lucky I was already giving Jane a ride. Don't expect me to drive you every time I have a day off."
"I know."
"Wait, where are we going?" Jane chimed in, clearly still half-asleep.
Daria sighed. "I just told you at the front door, we have to pick up Quinn's friend."
"Stacy," Quinn stressed.
In a slightly exasperated tone, Daria responded, "Quinn, I'm not trying to disrespect your friend, Jane just wouldn't know who she was."
Jane raised a finger. "Actually, I do. Ms. Rowe is going to be designing the costumes for the play."
"What?" Daria asked flatly.
"Apparently she's quite the seamstress. She's actually saving my hide; I was going to be stuck with a bunch of rank amateurs who couldn't even design something from a sketch."
"Yeah, she volunteered in front of the whole auditorium. She's even doing it in her free time because of all her other work," Quinn added, proud of her friend.
Daria shook her head. "You don't think that all seems a little too good to be true? Have either of you ever actually seen anything she's sewn? And Stacy is taking on extra work? No offense Quinn, but that girl can't keep from emotionally breaking down on a day to day basis. Do you really expect her to be able to juggle multiple responsibilities?"
Quinn really wanted to keep the peace, but this was too much. "God, Daria, why do you always have to be so negative? Stacy has grown a lot. And don't call her a liar; I'm sure she's a great spinster."
"So, you haven't actually seen her sew anything."
Jane cut in, "Daria, she did seem like she knew what she was talking about."
"Look, I'm not saying she can't do it—"
"It sure sounds like it," Quinn interrupted, crossing her arms and turning away from her sister.
Daria ignored her sister, and finished, "—I'm just saying you should be careful. She's a girl with a history of being unstable taking on a heavy workload, and you have no idea how good she actually is."
Jane shook her head. "You're just a ray of sunshine, you know that Daria?"
Daria just shrugged. The three rode in silence for a few minutes until Daria finally broke it. "So Quinn, You were going to tell me how your audition went."
Jane, who had been taking a drink of coffee, started choking.
Quinn giggled, breaking out of her frustration a bit. Still laughing, she turned back to her sister and said, "Well, I guess Jane will tell you anyway." Her tone grew less amused as she continued, "Sandi came. She snuck in with Tiffany and they booed me while I was auditioning."
Having recovered, Jane eagerly elaborated, "They brought turkey legs, you know like at that renaissance play O'Neill put on. When Sean started trying to figure out—"
"Sean?" Daria and Quinn asked in unison.
"Mr. O'Neill, the new theater teacher. His name is Sean. Anyway, him questioning the dumber half of the former fashion club—" Quinn smiled at that "—was hilarious. Best of all I got to report Sandi Griffon to the police."
"What?" Daria asked, surprise breaking through her usual veneer of indifference.
Jane was laughing. "Your sister told Sean what was going on and he said to call and report harassment."
Quinn smiled. "In the end it actually really helped my audition. Facing Sandi and watching her make an idiot out of herself totally got rid of any nerves I had." She pointed out the window. "Oh! This is it, that's Stacy's house."
Daria parked the car in the empty driveway and turned to Jane. "So, Sandi Griffin is now on record for possession of turkey drumsticks?"
Quinn leaned in between the front seats. "Jane, can you get out so I can go get Stacy?"
"Huh? Oh, sure." She opened the door and climbed out, leaning the seat forward so Quinn could get out.
Quinn squeezed out of the little Civic's backseat and headed up the walk to Stacy's front door. She knocked, and almost immediately Stacy pulled open the door.
Stacy was always cheery and energetic in the morning, and today was no exception. She bounced a bit and said, "Hi, Quinn."
"Hi, Stacy." Quinn looked back at the car and had an idea. "Can we go up to your room real quick?"
Stacy looked confused. "Sure, but why?"
Quinn walked past her into the house, heading for the stairs. "Daria was saying you might be lying about knowing how to sew. Well maybe not lying, but she said we should make sure you could and that's like the same thing. So, I want to get something to show her you can and that she should trust people." They were up the stairs and had stopped at Stacy's door. "Okay?"
Stacy looked extremely nervous, but nodded.
Quinn shook her head and chastised herself; she was being too pushy with Stacy. "Stacy, it's okay if you don't want to. I know you can do it, and Jane said she thought you knew what you were talking about." Stacy seemed to perk up a bit. "I just wanted to show Daria, but that's my thing. You do what you want."
Stacy took a deep breath and was quiet for a while, then she straightened up and looked Quinn in the eye. "Let's find something. I've got to show Jane, I mean Ms. Lane, anyway. But my sewing stuff's not in here, it's in the guestroom." She looked away and added quietly, "I didn't want anyone to find it when they came over."
Quinn smiled. "Let's go."
Stacy led Quinn to the guestroom closet and, after hesitating for a second, opened it. "So, this is what I have right now. Mom makes me give stuff to Goodwill when I have too much."
Quinn walked up to the closet and looked through the clothes. It was weird to think Stacy made them. They looked pretty professional, but didn't have that off the rack look. There was a personal touch. There were a few tops, a skirt, and a really nice pair of jeans, but three pieces really caught Quinn's eye.
The first was a sundress. It wasn't as complex as some of the other stuff and seemed a bit older, but it just screamed Stacy. It was a halter top swoop-neck with a flowing skirt that would probably reach to just over Stacy's knees. The fabric was a light blue with a yellow floral print.
The second was also fairly simple: a little black dress. It was sleeveless with a sweetheart neckline and a short skirt. A layer of transparent lace gave the whole dress a texture, as well as extending the skirt a bit and covering her chest up to her neck.
What really got her attention though, was the last dress. It was abstract, like the high fashion stuff you'd see on the runway. Not that good obviously, but that kind of design. The top was a dull cream colored jacket cut at weird angles that buckled at one side, but the top half was pulled open to expose a bright patterned blouse. The long skirt was a brownish grey with the hem cut at a sharp angle that matched the angle of the jacket's open flap. It wasn't something you'd wear out; it was art.
After she finished looking things over Quinn took a moment to get her thoughts straight, then stepped back to face her friend. "Stacy, this amazing."
Stacy visibly relaxed. She looked hopefully at Quinn and said, "Thanks! I mean, do you really think so?"
"Of course. Stacy, this is crazy. Why have you never worn any of this? Why have you never shown me any of this?"
Stacy looked down. "I showed Sandi some stuff I made when we were in middle school and she said it was stupid, that only name brand stuff was worth wearing. I didn't want her to get mad at me, so I hid it."
Quinn put a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Well Sandi's an idiot and we're done with her. If you weren't going to be so busy with the play I'd be asking you to make me something. Now, go change into those jeans and put on one of those tops. They're much cuter than what you have on, no offense."
Stacy looked at her watch, and then up at Quinn. "Um, Quinn don't you think they've been waiting downstairs for a while? Shouldn't we go down?"
"What?" Quinn stared at Stacy confused, until she remembered that Jane and her sister were waiting downstairs. "Crap. How long was I looking at your clothes?"
Stacy checked her watch again. "Almost ten minutes." Quinn quickly grabbed the runway set and one of the more complicated tops and started moving towards the stairs. Stacy hurried after her. "Quinn. Quinn! Don't show them that one, it's no good!"
Quinn hurried down the stairs and headed for the front door, calling back, "It's great Stacy. Don't worry, I've seen Jane's artwork. She'll love it." She opened the front door and almost walked into Jane and Daria.
"I'll love what?" Jane asked, smirking.
As Quinn caught her breath, Daria explained why she and Jane were on the door step, "We got tired of waiting, and came to make sure you two didn't asphyxiate from too much hairspray."
Stacy caught up, and gasped. "That can happen?"
Quinn recovered and shook her head. "No, Stacy, that would take like a whole can. Calm down."
Stacy blushed. "Right, of course. Sorry."
"So, what you got there?" Jane asked, eyeing the clothes Quinn had brought down.
Quinn glared at Daria, "These are proof my friend is not a liar." She turned to Stacy and held out the high fashion ensemble. "You hold this while I show the top."
"I… Well… Okay." Stacy reluctantly took the clothes and held them up, hiding her face.
Quinn gestured to the garment she was holding. "This is a beautifully stitched cross-closing V-neck top—" Quinn grinned proudly and pointed to what Stacy was holding "—and that is the closest thing to high fashion that Lawndale has ever seen design. Both made by Stacy."
Daria crossed her arms and began tapping her foot while Jane inspected the clothes. She looked over the top, examining the cut and turning it inside out to checking the stitching. "This is good, not too far from what I want for Oberon. It seems well made too; I've had looser seams on shirts I bought." Turning her attention to the other garment, she stepped back and stroked her chin in thought. She walked around, looking at in from different angles, occasionally leaning in to look at some detail.
Daria cleared her throat. "I don't have anywhere to be but in front of the TV, but you three are going to be late soon."
Jane waved a hand dismissively at her friend and shushed her. She took her time finishing her appraisal, then addressed her friend, "I'm a teacher Daria; I can be late, and I can excuse these two. This is related to the play anyway." She turned to Stacy and tried to see her around the clothes. "Can you give that to Quinn so I can see your face while I talk to you?"
"Sure. I mean, yes ma'am, Ms. Lane." Stacy quickly handed the clothes to Quinn.
"Please, call me Jane. It's enough of a pain to get called that all day, I don't need it when I'm not at work." Stacy nodded. "Good. Now, about your work." She paused, probably trying to be dramatic, and Stacy started shaking. "It's great! Like I said, the shirt's good, but that—" she indicated the runway piece"—that's art!" Her voice got more excited. "Let me guess, you've been hiding something? Something buried underneath a lot of barriers?" Stacy's shaking got worse and she started sweating.
Quinn jumped into the conversation, "It's about Sandi right, Stacy?" Stacy went rigid, her face white. Quinn quickly continued, "How she always kept us from expressing ourselves?" She elbowed her frozen friend.
Stacy jumped. "Y-yeah. That's what it's about. Sandi."
Jane shrugged. "Well whatever it's about, I'm impressed. That kind of struggle is hard to pull off."
Daria stepped towards the group. "If we're all done patting Stacy on the back, can we go now?"
Quinn stomped her foot and pouted at her sister. "Daria, stop being mean to Stacy."
It seemed like Daria was going to argue, then she sighed and said, "Stacy, I'm sorry if I offended you. This is just how I act when I've been forced to wait around for twenty minutes. I also never thought you were a liar; I just didn't want Jane being reckless and jumping into something without thinking."
Stacy and Jane stared at Daria like she had just grown a second head. Quinn just smiled. After a second, Stacy managed to say, "Um, yeah. No problem."
"Good. Now, can you two put those back upstairs so I can finish driving you all to school and get home?"
::
Quinn waved to Stacy as she saw her enter the lunchroom. "Stacy, over here."
Stacy hurried over to the table where Quinn was sitting. A dark haired girl followed behind her at a more sedate pace. "Hey, Quinn." She gestured to the other girl. "This is Liz, we're doing the sewing together. Liz, this is my friend Quinn, although I guess you already knew that."
Quinn smiled and gave a little wave. "Hi. Nice to meet you, Liz."
Liz nodded. "You too. Do you mind if I sit with you guys? I don't know a ton of people here."
"Sure, the more the merrier." Stacy and Liz sat down, as Quinn introduced the rest of the table. "This is Steven, his younger brother Alex, and Gwen. We're all trying out for the play."
"I can't believe he's making you wait another day to see who got the part," Liz said as she unpacked her lunch.
Gwen nodded as she finished a bite of her sandwich. Swallowing, she agreed, "I know, and you can totally tell he's doing it to watch us squirm."
"At least he's not as bad as his cousin," Stacy offered. The girls all cringed.
"I keep hearing people say that. What's the deal with the other Mr. O'Neill?" Alex asked.
Quinn answered, "That's right you guys are new here. He's an English teacher. Total weirdo, really touchy feely. He's always asking how you feel or something."
"He's comes up with weird assignments too, like having us try to figure out who someone was by feeling their hand. What does that even have to do with English?" Gwen added.
"Well, I guess every school has one weird teacher," Steven said. Quinn and Gwen started laughing. "What's so funny?"
Stacy explained, "We have a lot of weird teachers."
"You'll be lucky if you only get three on your schedule," Liz elaborated.
Alex chuckled, "Sounds like fun."
Liz smiled, "Tell me that after you have Ms. Barch." The girls all laughed at that. "Enough about school, what parts are you guys trying out for?"
"I'm trying out for Hermia," Quinn offered.
Alex laughed. "I'm pretty sure everyone remembers your audition, Quinn." His older brother elbowed him in the ribs, and Alex wheezed, "Ow. Sorry, wasn't thinking." He took a second to recover, and added, "I'm trying for Puck, by the way."
"I'm trying out for Bottom, although maybe I should have gone for Oberon. Reeling in Alex seems to be my lot in life," Steven said with a smile.
Gwen finished laughing at Alex and said, "I want to play Titania. What about you two?" She leaned closer. "Tell us what the costumes look like?"
"The designs are beautiful," Stacy said, staring into the distance.
Liz nodded, finishing a drink of her soda. "They're really well done; Ms. Lane is very talented. They're kind of unconventional though, like something out of an old sci-fi show. At least we're not making the ones with the mutants."
Alex perked up. "Mutants?"
Daria looked at the clock and sighed. Three seventeen. Time seemed pass slower as the end of her day grew closer, even more so than in school. Another thing to look forward to in adult life. It was made worse by the complete lack of customers. If someone were here, she'd at least have some amusing idiots to tell Jane about later.
Cassie called from the game room, which doubled as her office when no one was using it. "Daria, can you bring me a cookie?"
Daria rolled her eyes. At least it was something to do. "What kind?"
"Peanut butter, and get me a water too. Thanks."
Daria put a peanut butter cookie on a napkin and grabbed a bottle of water from the display fridge. She walked around the counter and pushed the door to the game room open with her foot. Cassie was sitting at the closest of the three long tables that filled up the room, working on her laptop. Daria walked over and set the food down next to her. "Anything else?"
Cassie looked up from whatever she was doing. "No. Any customers?"
"Not since about two thirty."
Cassie turned back to her computer and started working again. "Okay."
Daria waited, in case Cassie wanted anything else. When Cassie just kept working, Daria walked back to her post behind the counter. As she settled in for another long wait, the door across the store opened. To her surprise, Quinn entered and walked up to Blake, her co-worker covering that side of the store. They talked for a moment, Daria couldn't make out the conversation over the store's background music, and Blake pointed to the café. Quinn nodded to Blake and sprinted over. When she reached the counter, Daria said, "I never expected to see you willingly walk into a bookstore."
Quinn seemed too happy to even banter back. "Daria, I got the part! I'm playing Hermia."
"Um, congratulations." Daria responded, suddenly glad there weren't any customers around.
Quinn beamed at her. "Thanks! I wanted to hurry and tell you."
"No offense Quinn, but why did you come here to tell me? Couldn't you just tell me at home?"
Quinn looked a bit taken off balance. Her face fell and she seemed to think for a while. Finally, in an introspective tone, she quietly answered, "I don't know, I just felt like I should. I guess… I guess maybe I wanted to show you I could do more than just fashion stuff."
Daria sighed. This was getting too heavy for work, but there was no avoiding it. "Quinn, I always knew you could. That's why it was so damned annoying watching you waste your time all these years."
"Oh," Quinn said. She sounded thoughtful and a little hurt.
The two stood in an uncomfortable silence for a while, until Cassie' friendly voice broke it. "Hey Daria, who's this? She can't be a customer, you usually try to deal with them as quickly as possible and you two have been standing there for a couple of minutes."
Daria jumped a bit. Cassie had walked up without her noticing. "This is my sister, Quinn. Quinn, this is my boss, Cassie."
"Daria never told me she had a sister. Cassie Tyler, nice to meet you." She stuck out her hand.
Quinn recovered quickly and gave a bright smile. She shook Cassie's hand, and replied, "Quinn Morgendorffer. I love your store."
Cassie smiled back. "Thanks. Are you a big reader like your sister?"
Daria couldn't help but chuckle. Quinn's face soured for a second, but she quickly recovered. "Not really, but I've been trying a lot of new things lately and I was thinking of picking something up."
Cassie's eyes lit up and Daria smirked at her sister's mistake. Cassie stepped towards Quinn. "What kind of books are you into?" she asked, excited.
Quinn looked a bit uncomfortable. She turned to Daria, but she just shook her head. "Um, I don't really know. Like I said I haven't read too much."
Cassie looked even happier. "Oh, a blank slate? Okay, come with me," she said in an excited voice.
As Cassie turned to head towards the books, Daria called out, "Cassie, wait. Do you mind if we finish talking first? It's kind of important. I promise I won't let her get away."
Cassie stopped, then relaxed and regained her composure. She turned around and gave Daria and Quinn an understanding smile. In the friendly voice from before, she said, "Of course. Just make sure not to make any customers wait, alright?"
Daria looked around the empty store. Her voice thick with sarcasm, she replied, "I'll try."
Cassie smirked and turned around, calling, "Alright, just send her to me when you're done. I'll be looking through the shelves," over her shoulder as she headed for the other side of the store.
Once Cassie was out of earshot, Quinn let out a breath. "You weren't kidding about her."
"Yeah, she's… unique," Daria agreed. "I meant it when I said you weren't getting away; I think she might fire me for keeping her from 'educating' a new reader."
Quinn shivered. "So what did you want to talk about?"
"You seemed upset, and for some reason that bothers me."
Quinn gave a brief smile, before looking down. "Do you really think I wasted all that time?"
"Honestly?" Quinn nodded. "Yes. At least, I think you could have put it to better use. You gained a lot of social skills, but you could have done that without letting your brain atrophy. The important thing is that you're doing better now. You're trying to better yourself, and, to my surprise, it looks like you're actually going to keep it up. I didn't think I'd ever say this, but I'm proud of you."
Quinn looked up, her eyes brimming with tears, and smiled at Daria, who was suddenly very glad there was a counter between them. "You really mean that?"
"I'm not going to say it twice, if that's what you're hoping for."
"Thanks Daria, I'm proud of you too." Quinn grabbed a napkin and wiped her eyes, then pulled out her compact to check her makeup. As she put it back in her bag, she asked, "I guess I have to go see Cassie now?"
Daria nodded. "Yeah, but don't worry. It may take an hour or so, but she really will find the perfect book for you."
"An hour?"
::
Daria sat in the booth and watched Jane pay for her slice and soda. When her friend got within earshot, she asked, "What kept you? I thought you got off work an hour ago."
Jane slid into the booth across from her Daria. "Well, I stopped getting paid an hour ago. I didn't actually leave until about ten minutes ago."
Daria raised an eyebrow. "What could possibly make you stay at Lawndale High longer that you had to?"
"I had to talk with Stacy about the costume designs; that girl has a surprisingly good eye," Jane explained.
Daria finished a sip of her soda. "You couldn't do that during class?"
"Nah, Upchuck has her all day. My stuffs all extracurricular. I shouldn't have to stay late for much longer, though; we should be able to finish the last of the designs tomorrow." Jane took a bite of her pizza.
"I still can't believe they let him teach."
Jane savored her slice for a while, then swallowed. "It's simple really, Ms. Li doesn't have to pay him as much as a real teacher."
"Of course." Daria and Jane took a few minutes to put a dent in their food, then Daria continued the conversation, "We never decided, are we watching the Sick Sad World marathon at my place or yours?"
"Crap, I forgot about that." Jane scratched the back of her head and looked away. "Actually, I can't make it."
"What?" Daria asked, an edge to her voice. This was starting to feel familiar.
"I kinda have to go fabric shopping with Stacy," Jane explained apologetically.
"Why can't you just go on Sunday?" Daria was starting to get mad; Jane had a bad habit of ditching her when she got caught up in something.
Jane's voice was full of frustration and a bit annoyed, "There's a sale Daria, and our teachers weren't kidding about budget cuts all these years. I'll be lucky if this play doesn't end up looking like some damn kindergarten recital." She put her head in her hands. "Why the hell did I do this again?"
"A misguided sense of responsibility to a former teacher and the need for a new big project," Daria rattled off sarcastically, mostly by reflex.
Jane lifted her head and chuckled. In a tired voice she responded, "Right. Well, I'm stuck with it now. Look, can you just record the marathon? We can watch it Sunday."
This was really getting to Jane. Daria's concern for her friend pushed back her unexplained anger from a moment ago, and she replied, "Sure, sounds good. We'll have to do it early though, we both have work in the morning. God, that sounds weird."
Jane smirked, perking up a bit. "At least it's only work. By this time next year, we'll probably have work and school."
Daria groaned and dropped her head on the table at that thought. Shortly, she heard someone walk up to their table and looked up, fearing the worst. Thankfully it was only Mack and Jodie.
"Hey, guys," Jodie began. "I was hoping you would rethink coming to my parents Fourth of July party."
Daria shook her head, "Sorry, I have work on Wednesday."
"You got a job?" Mack asked, surprised. He quickly recovered, adding "Sorry, I just never saw you as the type to work over the summer."
"Trust me, neither did I, but I had a very powerful incentive and plenty of peer pressure." Daria tilted her head towards Jane.
Jane shrugged. "What can I say, I like money."
"You're working too?" Mack asked.
Jane nodded, "Afraid so, at least the pays good."
Jodie smiled, "That's great. Where are you guys working?"
"I'm teaching at the school's summer theatre program—" Jane gestured to Daria "—and Daria's working at a bookstore on Dega street."
"Cool, well come by if you have time after work. I'd love to have someone other than Kevin and Britany to talk to."
"Later," Mack said with a wave, as he and Jody left.
Jane took a bite of pizza, a thoughtful look on her face. Upon finishing, she said, "We should go."
"I guess I can get my last slice to go. What's the hurry?"
Jane shook her head. "No, I mean we should go to the party."
Daria looked at her friend mock-seriously. "Jane, did you eat something out of your fridge again?"
"Come on Daria, don't you want to mess with Kevin and Brittany one last time?"
"I'm sure there will be plenty of idiots in Boston." Daria sipped on her straw, draining the last of her soda.
"Yeah, but these are our idiots." There was an odd hint of emotion mixed in the sarcasm of Jane's voice.
"Why are you making such a big deal out of this?"
Jane shrugged and looked down at her half eaten pizza. "I don't know, it just sounds fun I guess. If you don't wanna go, I can go alone."
This seemed important to Jane for some reason and they weren't seeing enough of each other this summer as it was. Daria sighed, "I'll think about it."
Stacy fished her key out of her bag and unlocked the front door. She walked in, wiping her shoes on the mat by habit, and held the door for her friend.
Quinn trudged in after her. "I'm so glad it's Friday. Theatre is fun and all, but it's exhausting. I mean five days a week? It's like going to school!"
"I know what you mean. I'm having so much fun, but I'm so busy, especially with all the costume stuff," Stacy said, relocking the door and starting up the stairs to her room.
Quinn followed behind her. "Have I told you how cool it is that you're making the costumes and being the stage manager?"
Stacy hesitated at the door to her room and looked down. She didn't like thinking about all the work she had to do. "I don't know Quinn, sometimes I get worried. I mean, I'm taking on so much. What if—"
"Stop it, Stacy," Quinn sternly interrupted. Putting a hand on Stacy's shoulder, she said, "You've got to stop doubting yourself. I know Sandi made you think you couldn't do anything, but she was wrong. You can do this. You're doing great."
More pressure. Stacy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She felt a little better. There was still a lot to do, and she still wasn't completely sure she could do it all, but Quinn said she could. Plus, she'd promised everyone she'd do it. They were counting on her. She had to do it. She forced a smile, turned to her friend, and said, "Thanks Quinn. I'm glad I have you here to remind me."
Quinn gave a bright smile back. "No problem, what are friends for." She squeezed past Stacy, into the room, pulling out the chair from Stacy's vanity and sitting down across from the bed. "Ugh, I'm so glad to be off my feet; Mr. O'Neill has us standing up all day." She looked back at Stacy. "So, what do you want to do?"
Stacy walked into the room and sat down on her bed, across from Quinn. "I don't know. I don't really want to go out."
Quinn slouched back in the chair. "Yeah, I don't even feel like shopping." The two sat in silence for a while, until Quinn sat up straight and exclaimed, "I know! Let's have a fashion show."
"What?"
"You can put on all those cute clothes you made. I've been dying to see how they look on someone and not just on the rack. Why haven't you been wearing them anyway?"
Stacy looked down to hide the embarrassed blush spreading across her face. "Um, no reason." She'd been making them without wearing them for years; she'd never planned on wearing them. "I-I guess I just didn't think of it. I've been so busy." She gave a stilted laugh.
"Okay." Quinn stared at Stacy expectantly, while the other girl stared at the ground. "Well, go change!" she said with a friendly laugh, shooing Stacy with her hand.
Stacy almost flinched. "Right, sorry." She hurried out of her room and across the hall to the guestroom, closing the door behind her. More deep breaths. She looked over the clothes in front of her. A top and jeans, that would be easy. She wore stuff like that every day. Looking over the tops, she picked out a pale yellow peasant blouse that she thought would go well with the jeans, and laid it and the jeans out on the bed. She took off her sandals, then pulled off her shirt and capris and neatly folded them and put them next to the other clothes on the bed. Stacy stared at the clothes she had sewn and sighed. There was no way out now. She pulled on the jeans, then the top. She turned to the mirror; the fit was good and she thought she looked good. She steeled herself, then opened the door and walked across the hall and back into her room.
Quinn was waiting facing the door. When Stacy walked in she started clapping. "Stacy that looks great! And it fits so well." Once Stacy had walked fully into the room, Quinn stood up and circled her. Crouching down Quinn looked at the jeans in detail. "I love these little flourishes. Just enough to be cute without being distracting."
Though she'd done it in stores plenty of times, it was always awkward having the clothes you were wearing inspected, even more so when you'd made them. "Um, thanks. That's what I was going for," Stacy managed.
"Well it worked," Quinn said, standing up, "These jeans are super cute. I bet Liz will love them."
"I don't think Liz is that into fashion Quinn."
"Duh, I meant she'd like you in them." Quinn nudged Stacy, grinning.
Stacy tilted her head and looked at Quinn in confusion. "What?"
Quinn looked at Stacy like she was a little slow. "You know, she'd think you look good. I mean, you want her to right?"
"Quinn, what are you talking about?"
"Well, you like her, right?" Quinn said as if it was obvious.
Several feelings ran through Stacy in the space of a few seconds. Embarrassment at the idea, anger at the assumption, curiosity about where it came from, but, more than anything else, amusement at her friends misunderstanding. Stacy started laughing, genuine hearty laughter. She started tearing up and sat down on her bed until she recovered. Smiling, she wiped her eyes. "Thanks Quinn, I needed that."
Quinn pouted, "I'm glad me trying to help you is so amusing."
Guilt started to push back Stacy's amusement. "Oh, Quinn, I'm sorry. It's just, why would you think I liked Liz?"
Quinn stared at her shoes. "I don't know. I mean, you've been hanging out a lot and you always bring her to lunch."
Stacy smiled. "Quinn, Liz isn't who I'm into; she's the only other person doing the sewing for the play. We're friends. I'm not going to want to be in a relationship with every girl I get close to."
"Sorry—" Quinn looked up smiling "—I don't exactly have much experience with this whole gay best friend thing. Wait, what do you mean 'isn't who I'm into'?"
"What?"
Quinn grinned and pointed a finger at Stacy. "You said 'Liz isn't who I'm into', not 'I'm not into Liz'. That means you have someone you do like."
Stacy froze. Had she said that? Why would she say that? Eventually, she managed a confused, "I do?"
Quinn waved her hand as if to dismiss any other possibility. "Totally, otherwise you would have just said you weren't into Liz." Quinn sat down across from the bed again and leaned forward conspiratorially. "So who is it?"
Stacy shook her head. "I don't know. I didn't even know I said that."
Quinn furrowed her brow. "Hmm. It must be one of those things where you say what you think instead of what you think you think. Is there anyone you've been acting weird around? Someone you're nervous around."
Stacy laughed bitterly in her head. Who wasn't she nervous around? She thought about the girls she had met in the past week. There was Quinn's friend Gwen, but she hardly knew her. There was Diane who was doing the lights, but there was no way she liked her; she was three years younger and acted like a kid. There was Liz, but she knew she didn't like Liz; she was a friend. She always covered for her when things got weird with Jane. Wait, Jane. Jane with the surprisingly strong arms and the amazing drawings. Stacy's body sagged and her head fell. "Damn it."
Quinn's eyebrows shot up. "Stacy!" Hesitantly she asked, "So, I guess you figured out who you like?" Stacy nodded, her hair falling around her face. "Um, who is it?
Stacy raised her head and ran her hands through her hair, pushing it back. "It doesn't matter." She fell back on her bed and looked up at the ceiling. "Why do I always like girls I have no chance with?" Not that there were a lot that she did have a chance with. She really didn't want to think about this. Why did she have to figure it out?
Quinn put a hand on Stacy's knee, breaking her out of her thoughts. "Stacy, tell me who it is. It can't be that bad, and if it is let me help."
Stacy sighed. Quinn would keep asking until she told her. It wouldn't make a difference anyway. "It's Jane. Jane who is a year older than me, is leaving in a couple of months, hates the fashion club, and is straight."
"Oh." Quinn's face fell. Stacy thought she finally understood, when Quinn perked up. "Okay, the year older thing doesn't matter. If older guys are good, so are older girls. Daria says she's not leaving until January, so that's like half a year. You're not in the fashion club anymore and she likes the clothes you make, she called that one dress art. And just because she dated some guys doesn't mean she's straight; you dated tons of guys."
Stacy sat up and managed a small smile. Quinn was a good friend. "I appreciate what you're doing Quinn, but I'm pretty sure nothing's going to happen. I couldn't get the courage up to ask her out even if I was pretty sure she'd say yes." Quinn opened her mouth to say something, but Stacy cut her off, "Can we just talk about something else?"
"Um, okay. If that's what you want." She seemed to think for a moment, then lit up. "I know, let's look at some more of your clothes. I'd love to see that little black dress."
The anxiety from before immediately flooded back into Stacy. Quinn was a good friend, but she could be really oblivious.
Jane parked Trent's car and climbed out, taking a moment to look around. It wasn't the best neighborhood in Lawndale. Not bad by any means, but not as nice as Daria's. It certainly wasn't where she expected a fashion princess to live. Stacy's home was average for the neighborhood, a modest two story house painted a soft blue; it was set apart by a beautifully manicured lawn with flowering bushes lining the front of the house and a pair of small, well groomed trees in the yard. It didn't suit a fashion princess, but it seemed to suit the girl she'd been getting to know the past week. Jane reminded herself again to try not to freak Stacy out and headed up the walk. She knocked on the door and, after a short wait, a woman who looked to be in her early forties answered.
She was a couple of inches shorter than Stacy and had a rounder face, but otherwise looked just like her. The woman smiled and said, "Hi. You must be Jane. I'm Carol Rowe, Stacy's mom. Come on in." She stepped inside waving Jane in and indicating a couch in the living room off to the right. Jane walked in and sat down, while the woman closed the door and called upstairs, "Stacy, Jane's here!"
"Okay, Mom, I'll be down in a minute!" came Stacy's voice from upstairs.
The woman chuckled and turned to Jane. "If that minute lasts half as long as the ones when she's getting ready for dates she might take a while. Would you like anything to drink?"
Jane was a bit surprised. For some reason, she had expected Stacy's mother to be as high strung as she was, but this woman was pretty much the exact opposite. Jane smirked and waved a hand, "No thanks, I'm driving."
Mrs. Rowe froze for a second, then smiled. She walked over to a recliner next to the couch and sat down. "Stacy said you had a different sense of humor."
Jane quirked an eyebrow, curious. "Really? What else has she been saying about me?"
"Hmm…" Mrs. Rowe leaned back, crossing her legs and tapping her cheek. "Well, she says you're intense and a bit scary, but don't worry about that she's afraid of most things." She slowly shook her head as a frown briefly passed over her face. Her bright smile returned as she continued, "She also says you're really nice and encouraging. More than anything else though, she talks about your art. She goes on and on about how amazing it is."
Jane smiled a bit at that last part. Stacy had been looking through her sketchbooks while they worked on the designs. Jane had thought it would be good for a laugh when the younger girl freaked out, but she actually seemed to get a lot of it. Coming back to the conversation, Jane asked, "You two talk a lot, huh?"
Mrs. Rowe shrugged. "I guess. I like to think we have a pretty good relationship." Jane thought of her own mother and smiled bitterly. Mrs. Rowe seemed to notice Jane's preoccupation and changed the subject. "Thank you for staying after to work with her. I'm sure that budget hoarding Li isn't paying you for it."
Jane chastised herself getting distracted like that, then collected herself and shrugged. "I'm used to spending my own money on art projects, so getting paid at all is a plus. Working late's hardly anything new either. If anything, I should be thanking Stacy. If it weren't for her I think all our actor's would be wearing burlap sacks."
"I'm just glad she's actually showing someone her sewing." Mrs. Rowe beamed with pride. "I know I'm her mother, but she's so good. It's always driven me crazy that she wouldn't show anyone." Mrs. Rowe noticed something behind Jane and her face lit up, tears brimming in her eyes. She squealed, "You're wearing them!"
Jane turned around to see what was going on. Stacy was halfway down the stairs, staring down at Jane and her mother like a deer in headlights. She was wearing the white V-neck top she'd shown Jane Tuesday morning and a pair of jeans that also looked custom made. Jane had to admit, Stacy looked good. Tailored clothes really made a difference. If she sewed the costumes like that, the play was going to look great. Then Jane noticed that Stacy hadn't moved any further down the stairs and sighed. Or at least it would look great, if she could get her seamstress to leave the house and help her buy the fabric. "Stacy, I don't know exactly where this fabric store is, but I'm pretty sure it's outside. You know, downstairs."
Stacy jumped, almost falling down the stairs. After catching herself on the banister, she said, "Sorry," and started carefully down the stairs.
Jane got up and went to meet her at the door. As she turned around to stand she noticed Mrs. Rowe was gone. She looked around and didn't see her, then shrugged and went to meet Stacy. Jane and Stacy both reached the front door at about the same time, and as Stacy was about to open it, Mrs. Rowe appeared from around a corner with a camera in her hands.
Mrs. Rowe smiled, full of pride. "Stacy, honey, I'm so proud of you. Do you mind if I get a few pictures?"
Stacy let go of the door's handle and looked up at Jane. Jane could tell she was trying really hard not to freak out. "I'm sorry, Jane. Do you mind? My mom's kind of obsessed with scrapbooking."
Jane backed away from Stacy, throwing up her hands. "Hey, far be it from me to get in the way of family memories."
"Thank you, Jane," Mrs. Rowe said, and began circling her daughter, snapping pictures. Stacy was blushing, her eyes darting to Jane every few seconds. Jane was wondering if Stacy was always this nervous or if her mother was just oblivious, when Mrs. Rowe called out, "Jane, get next to Stacy."
It took Jane a moment to process that. "What?"
Mrs. Rowe waved Jane towards he daughter. "Go stand next to Stacy. I want to get a picture of her with the person who finally got her to take her sewing out of the house."
Jane glanced at Stacy, who was blushing furiously. "I don't know, Mrs. Rowe. I didn't really do anything; Stacy volunteered on her own."
"Nonsense, now stand together." Mrs. Rowe stepped up and pushed the two together with surprising strength. She stepped back and took a few pictures. "Hm… Jane drape your arm over her shoulder." Jane hesitated, then shrugged and put her arm around Stacy, figuring it was best to just get this over with. Stacy stiffened, then, strangely, relaxed into her. Before Jane could wonder about this, Mrs. Rowe started taking more pictures. After a half dozen or so, she gave a warm smile and put down the camera. "Perfect. Thank you girls, I'm so glad I'll have these to remember today. You can go now. Have fun."
Stacy stayed next to Jane for a moment, then seemed to snap out of something. She said, "Okay, Mom, bye," as quickly as possible, while ducking out of Jane's arm, picking up the designs, and unlocking the door in one fluid motion, blushing like mad the whole time.
"It was nice meeting you, Jane," Mrs. Rowe said as her daughter slipped out the door.
Jane nodded. "You too." She looked over her shoulder at the open door. "Well, I better go before she runs all the way to the store without me."
Mrs. Rowe chuckled. "Alright. Drive safe."
::
Unsurprisingly, the strip mall's parking lot was packed on a Saturday afternoon. Jane circled for a while then pulled into a spot a few storefronts down from the fabric store that opened up. After she and Stacy had gotten out of the car and started down the sidewalk, she asked, "So, I've been wondering, how did you go out and buy fabric all these years without Sandi catching on?"
"I wore a disguise," Stacy said, a bit embarrassed.
Jane laughed. "You wore a disguise? What, you threw on a trench coat and some Groucho glasses?"
"Um, no." Stacy blushed. "Well, kind of. I wore my hair up in a headscarf. You know, like you do in a convertible? And then some big sunglasses and a coat."
Jane tried to imagine Stacy in that get up and chuckled. "You must have looked like one of those old movie stars."
Stacy giggled. "That's what Mom said. I love those old movies."
Jane was surprised. Forgetting she was trying not to upset Stacy, she joked, "You do know I'm talking about movies that came out before nineteen ninety, right?"
Stacy stopped abruptly. "You know, Jane, I'm not an idiot."
Jane turned around. Stacy looked surprisingly serious. Jane was impressed, she'd never seen Stacy stand her ground like this. It made her feel a little guilty and she tried to explain, "I know you're not. I wouldn't have believed it a week ago, but you have some real artistic talent and you're actually not so bad to hang out with when you manage to relax." Jane got a bit frustrated as she continued, thinking of the past. "But you have to understand that I've spent the last decade or so of my life seeing you waddle along obediently behind that airheaded bitch Sandi. I make fun of idiots, heck I make fun of my friends. I'm trying to go easy on you, but you've got to understand that I've been thinking of you as some stupid fashion drone for years and it's a hard habit to break."
Stacy swallowed. She looked Jane in the eye and said, "Don't."
Jane was transfixed by the determination in the younger girl's eyes. "Huh?"
Stacy maintained eye contact, her eyes tearing up. "Don't go easy on me. I might misunderstand sometimes and I might even freak out, but please don't treat me like some broken doll," she almost begged, desperation in her voice.
This whole conversation was getting way too heavy. Jane decided to try to just act normal and get past it as quickly as possible. She shrugged and said, "Hey, if that's what you want, then you got it. One hundred percent Jane Lane, no holds barred."
"Thanks." Stacy wiped her eyes again and her intensity from a moment ago disappeared. "Well, let's get to the store." She started walking again, then abruptly stopped and looked at the store they'd been talking in front of. She blushed a bit and laughed nervously. "Oh, I guess we were already here." She pushed open the door and headed in.
Jane looked at the door as she followed Stacy in and couldn't help but smirk; "Sew Easy" was printed in flowing letters. Once she was inside she had to hurry to catch up with Stacy. Even after a week of working with her, it still surprised Jane how confident Stacy was when she was in her element. You'd never guess the girl was so timid the rest of the time. Luckily, she stopped to ask a salesgirl something and Jane was able to catch up.
Stacy finished talking to the salesgirl as Jane reached her and turned to Jane with an almost predatory smile. "Come on, the fabrics on sale are over here." She swiveled around and hurried towards the far side of the store at a brisk pace.
While Stacy started to search through the discounted fabrics, Jane took the chance to look around the store. She was immediately glad she had convinced Stacy to come with her. The store was much bigger than she had thought it would be and there was fabric everywhere, not to mention shelves of thread, buttons, zippers, tape, and more kinds of scissors than she'd ever seen, which was saying something. She imagined this must be what it felt like for Daria or Trent when she dragged them to a big art supply store.
"Jane, look at these," Stacy asked, bringing Jane back to the task at hand. She was holding two bolts of grey fabric, in different shades. "I know it's not exactly what you wanted for the mechanicals, but they're forty percent off."
Jane hated working on a budget, although she was certainly used to it. She compared the two rolls of cloth. One was a kind charcoal color and the other was a lighter ash. She wanted the Athenians to wear a kind of metallic silver, so the more common mechanicals needed to contrast. It was a little off, but it would work. "Let's go with the darker one," Jane said, looking up, but not seeing Stacy.
"Okay," Stacy said, already halfway down the wall. She pointed to three patterned bolts she had bundled in her arm. "How about these for Pucks vest?" She pulled out another with her free arm. "Or maybe this one?"
Jane jogged down the wall to where Stacy was standing and took the fabric. Before she even had a chance to look at it, Stacy spotted another candidate and darted off. Jane sighed. This was going to be a long day.
::
Jane felt exhausted as she finally dropped the bags of fabric, zippers, and string into the trunk and closed it. She looked over at Stacy, who seemed even more tired than she was. "What happened to you? You were bouncing off the walls for the past two hours and now you look like my brother."
Stacy tilted her head and covered a yawn with her hand. "Your brother?"
Jane smirked. "Professional narcoleptic." When Stacy's confused look didn't leave, Jane clarified, "He sleeps a lot."
An embarrassed blush spread across Stacy's face. "Oh. Um, I don't know. I guess I just get into a zone when I'm shopping for fabric."
Jane nodded. "I think I get it. I can spend hours in a good art supply store." Just then, her stomach loudly reminded her that it was one thirty and she hadn't eaten all day. She looked around the shopping center and spotted a Subway across the parking lot. "I'm starving. You wanna get some lunch?"
"Um, sure. That sounds fun," Stacy replied, sounding a bit nervous.
"Cool." Jane led the way across the asphalt, slowing her pace when she realized Stacy was lagging behind. Once Stacy caught up, she asked, "Wow, you really are wiped out. What, was there a fashion marathon on last night?"
Stacy shook her head while covering another yawn with her hand. "I was finishing the patterns."
Jane gave Stacy a confused look. "I thought we did that on Thursday."
"We finished the sketches on Thursday. I still had to draw the patterns onto paper, those big rolls they had in the store, so we would know how much material we would need."
Jane opened the door for Stacy as they reached the Subway. She contemplated Stacy as she walked past and into the sandwich shop. She was surprised at how easy it was to imagine Stacy working all night. Staying up all night for anything, much less an art project, wasn't something she would have expected from a member of the fashion club, but Stacy kept shaking her preconceptions. Jane found herself noticing the younger girl's clothes again. She remembered Stacy saying she'd been sewing for five years. Why couldn't she have gotten away from Sandi sooner?
"Um, Jane?" Stacy was standing at the counter getting ready to order.
Jane blinked, realizing she'd been holding the door open for some time now, and got in line behind Stacy. Stacy bought a salad and some bottled water, and went to sit down. Jane opted for a footlong meatball sub, she found something intrinsically wrong with any sandwich that had more vegetables than the meat it was named for. When she finished paying for her combo, she found Stacy sitting at a booth next to the window and slid in across from her.
Stacy stared as Jane unwrapped her sandwich and took a big bite. "How can you eat like that and stay so thin?"
Jane swallowed and wiped her mouth. With a smirk, she replied, "I doubt you'd be interested; it involves sweat."
Stacy looked at Jane's footlong sub, then at her own small salad, turning it over with her plastic fork. She looked back up at Jane with conviction and said, "Jane, I've made a lot of changes recently. If sweating will let me eat real food every once in a while, I'm willing to give it a try."
Jane laughed at Stacy's seriousness and shook her head. "You just keep surprising me, Rowe. Alright, I'll let you in on my great weight loss secret," Jane leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "I run."
"That's it?" Stacy looked skeptical.
Jane leaned back and nodded. "Afraid so, just regular exercise. Just to clarify, I don't do it to lose weight; it feels great and helps me clear my mind."
Stacy looked thoughtful, then hesitantly asked, "Um, do you think I could go with you some time?"
Without thinking, Jane said, "Eh, why not." She immediately wondered why she had said it. That was her time alone, away from everything. She quickly qualified her statement, "But not all the time, and you can't talk my ear off. I got enough of that from Daria's mom to last a lifetime."
Stacy grinned giddily and almost squealed. "Thank you. I promise I won't bother you." As she calmed down, she seemed to remember something. "Oh, that reminds me. I meant to apologize earlier. Sorry about my mom."
Jane finished off the first half of her sandwich and washed it down with some soda. "Stacy, what are you talking about?"
"Well, she was so pushy. With all the pictures and—" Stacy blushed "—pushing us together."
Jane sighed. She hated it when people complained about their parents. With a bit of an edge to her voice, she said, "Stacy, your mom cares about you and wants to remember every moment of your life." Without realizing it, her voice grew angrier, "Have you met other people's parents? You're lucky."
Stacy reacted before Jane was finished speaking. She slumped her shoulders, hugged herself, and dropped her head. It seemed like she was trying to make herself as small as possible. "I-I'm sorry. You're right," she stammered, barely audible.
Jane instantly felt terrible. "Damn it. Look, Stacy, I'm sorry. I'm not mad at you; it's my own family stuff, okay?"
Stacy stayed balled up. Deep breaths and the occasionally sniffle were the only observable changes. Jane had no idea what to do and just sat there worrying, afraid of doing anything that might make things worse. Finally, Stacy looked up at Jane, her makeup ruined, and asked, "W-what's wrong with your family?"
Jane hated talking about her family. Sure, she joked about them, but that was with Daria, and only because Daria pretty much had to know about her situation with all the time they spent together. She couldn't risk Stacy falling apart again, though. She sighed. "Stacy, I haven't seen my mother in the last seven months. I think it's been about eleven for my father." Stacy gasped. Jane held up a hand and shook her head. "Don't worry about me. I'm fine. I've got my brother Trent, and there are plenty of advantages to having no parents around."
"I'm so sorry. I had no Idea." Stacy started kneading her hands and squirming. "Oh, no. I was so insensitive, talking about my mom."
Trying to head off another break down, Jane grabbed Stacy's hands and in her firmest voice said, "Stacy." Stacy looked Jane in the eye, blushing. "Everything's fine. I'm not mad at you. Okay?"
Stacy nodded. In a tiny voice she said, "Okay."
"Good." Jane let go of Stacy's hands, the younger girl holding on for a second before letting go as well. Jane grabbed her soda and took a drink, the cool wet plastic feeling good on her warm palms. As she put it down, she said, "You know, you're not making this whole 'not taking it easy on you' thing very easy."
Stacy looked away. "Sorry."
An awkward silence stretched out as Jane and Stacy ate their food. It finally got to Jane, and she tried to spark up a conversation with something that would interest a former fashion club member. "So, are you going to Jodie's party?"
Stacy cautiously looked up from what little was left of her salad. "Um, yeah. Quinn and I were planning on going. Are you?"
"Believe it or not, I am. It's the last chance I'll get to see a lot of people. They may be idiots, but I've known them my whole life, you know?"
Stacy nodded. "Uh huh. It's weird to think of everyone who's been a year older than me my whole life being gone."
"I'm glad someone gets it. Daria almost had me thinking I was going crazy."
Stacy hesitated, then offered, "Well, she only moved here a couple of years ago. She hasn't been going to school with everyone for her whole life."
Jane sagged into the booth. "That's a good theory, but I doubt Daria would want to go even if she had lived here her entire life. She doesn't exactly like interacting with people."
"Oh." Stacy didn't seem to know what to say to that and instead perked up and said, "Well, I hope I see you at the party."
Jane smirked. "Yeah, I think both Morgendorffer sisters would be pretty surprised to run into each other."
Stacy giggled. "Quinn would be, although nowadays she'd probably be happy instead of freaking out like she used to."
"We live in strange times." Jane looked down at the remains of their lunch, a few crinkled wrappers covered in crumbs and an empty plastic salad container. "You ready to go?"
Stacy covered her mouth in a futile attempt to conceal a long yawn.
"I'll take that as a yes."
Hello,
I'm editing this in after the fact, as I completely forgot to put in an author's note when I first posted it. Thinking about it, that probably means I shouldn't, but I've got a thing for symmetry so here it is.
I mentioned character growth last chapter, which is great. Super fun to write. Except for the fact that it gets much harder to keep someone in character the further they grow from said character. Hopefully they're not completely off.
Thanks for all your kind words in the reviews; I hope you continue to enjoy.
Edit: 8/13/15 More light editing, a little pruning, and I changed Stacy's mom's name after realizing I'd subconsciously pulled it from another fic.