And that was my life for an entire month. I had been avoiding Daria, made no effort to contact her. I didn't even call Jane, even though I wanted to. I did not want to keep fighting, and arguing, and I was worried that Jane might get drawn into the mix. I didn't want to involve her anymore then Daria would be telling her. I couldn't deal with both girls.
Home was no haven. Elsie had been sneaking out and probably doing more things as of late, while Mom planned event after event at the club. I turned down any invitations she sent my way.
"You know, if you concentrated as much of your efforts on trying to figure out what we could enjoy as a family as you do on those stupid events, we'd be the perfect family." I thought when I blew off an exhibit of Renoir. I remember once I had proposed that Mom use the gallery as a venue for local artists, like Jane, but that one was shot down extremely quickly. After that, I never offered my input to her about gallery functions again, and neither did I go to any.
The only thing that was different about my life was tutoring, and probably the only thing that kept me sane. I had done tutoring a few times before. I could never do it at home; who knew what hell Elsie would try to pull. And there would be no way we'd have peace at Daria's house, not to mention how awkward it would be to explain to Helen Morgandorffer what her daughter's ex was doing tutoring her other daughter. It was a conversation best left avoided.
So that left the library. Fielding had a different curriculum then Lawndale High, but I knew what Daria had studied during our time together, and Quinn would probably have a watered-down version of whatever it was that she had. American History would be where we started.
I picked up a few books. I loved history; it was my best subject, although I often found myself fascinated by it's great soldiers, leaders, those who convinced others to fight and die for their cause. That would make an excellent first lesson.
Quinn was on time, which made be thankful. Part of me wondered whether or not this was just some stray idea that flitted into her mind, and she'd be back to the makeup counters by late afternoon. But she came with notebooks and her list of classes, so I knew exactly what I'd need to concentrate on.
"The Civil War." I started. "You're taking American history, and I doubt that it won't cover the Civil War. But before we begin, I have two rules. One, don't be late. Two, we only discuss the lessons." I laid down some ground rules. I might have been bored as hell, but I wasn't about to get sidetracked. This was important; that's what I told myself. It had nothing to do with Daria. So I said to myself.
After a few tutoring sessions, I found it was pretty clear that whatever it was Quinn needed, it wasn't a tutor. Quinn was not as smart as her sister, but she was definitely bright, and it seemed whatever failings she did at school were her own effort rather then a lack of talent. I had no idea how to explain this to Quinn, though. She applied herself to every lesson as if the lesson itself was the challenge, and she couldn't see anything else. I didn't know whether to admire her dedication or chide her for ignoring the true problems she had.
"Hey, Quinn, we've been having several sessions now." It was our fifth week of lessons, a Thursday, and today, I realized, would be the time to teach her a new lesson.
"Yeah, I know. I can't believe it's been a whole month." Quinn missed the point.
"That's not what I meant." I replied. "I mean, when we started tutoring, you told me you wanted to discover what it is makes you tick. So, tell me, which lessons have you been enjoying?" Quinn pressed her pencil against her face, and pondered the question.
"I don't know." She replied. "I was trying to learn." What a strange answer, I thought, especially considering what it was that Quinn wanted to gain.
"Quinn, you've displayed pretty good talent in pretty much all the areas. Which one did you like doing?" I reworded my question, but Quinn again answered with confusion. I had asked this question three times before today, but each time was more and more confusion.
"Quinn, I don't think much more tutoring will benefit you." Quinn's eyes widened, almost in horror, as I told her this.
"But I need to know stuff." Her words were a plea.
"You already know stuff." I explained. "I've been feeding you dates, names, wars, and all that. You've learned it all and shown me you can even understand the motivations behind it. But why did you think you needed a tutor?"
"So I do something that isn't fashion. I mean, I went to Headshots where Stacy works and she's got pictures in the window now, and even Jeffy makes all that money doing those little shows. And I need to be a success, I need to be good at something. "
"Shows?" I asked. That gave me an idea.
"Quinn, these friends of yours. Why don't you take me to them? There's something I need to see." I shut the books. Quinn seemed lost, but she listened to me, and we piled in my car.
I knew this place where Quinn's friend worked. Headshots was a glamor photography store; I had gotten my passport photo taken there. When I saw the photos in the window, I was taken aback. They truly did look like modeling shots seen in the few fashion magazines I had seen before. Which ones were taken by Quinn's friend?
"Hey, Quinn!" A voice sounded from the desk, which was probably her friend Stacy. The girl who answered was a short, brunette haired girl with pigtails and a sweet temperament.
"Stacy!" Quinn seemed happy to see her. "I came to see you." Stacy seemed positively overjoyed to see her friend.
"Stacy, this is Tom. He's a....family friend." I don't think I ever met Quinn's friends except in passing, so they probably wouldn't have known who I was. Why didn't Quinn refer to me as her tutor, I wondered. She was desperate enough to retain me. I mentally considered that as next week's lesson.
"Quinn tells me you do photography here, and the little diva in me decided I needed some shots done. So, of course, the only one who could do it was her friend." I delivered flatly. Normally, I wouldn't be caught dead doing something like this, but this was the best way for me to show Quinn the real lesson she wanted to learn.
"Sure!" Stacy brought me over to the booth where the pictures were taken. Quinn stood back to watch.
"Ummm...what background would you like?" Stacy asked me pleasantly.
"You tell me, what would look best?" I reversed the question. Stacy seemed confused by my query.
"These are glamor shots, right? So it's just like modeling? The photographer directs, the model obeys. So tell me, how should I pose?" I asked Stacy probing questions, using what little I knew about modeling. Stacy paused, clearly unsure of what to do. Before she could get any words out, another employee, an older, more abrasive man, came out.
"Rowe, are you holding up business again?" He was quite rude to Stacy, and then turned his attentions to me.
"I'm sorry you had to deal with such a junior associate. I'm Steve, and I'll be your photographer. What types of shots would you like to take today?" I looked past him at Stacy, who was starting to whimper, and Quinn, who seemed offended at Steve's behavior.
"Well, we were just about to get started. I wanted to get a nice picture for my girlfriend, so my friend and I came to visit her friend, who has pictures in the window, apparently."
"Who, Rowe?" Steve was dismissive of her, and I wondered why Stacy, who was still standing close by and could hear us, did not chime in. "Don't mind her, we all get lucky shots. But you don't have to worry, sir, I've got more experience with shots then her, and I know exactly what kind of shots you need. But what's the occasion? Birthday, anniversary, help me out here." Steve was slick and his voice sucked me in. Stacy was looking at him in awe, despite his rudeness to her. Quinn still looked offended.
"It's our anniversary."
"What does she like."
"She's a bit of a bookworm, likes the classics. Antiquities and whatnot." Now I was starting to get nervous. I hadn't planned my lies out that far in advance. The only person I could think of right now was Daria.
"So your classic goddess, eh?" Steve probably had no idea I was going to say that, but he continued along. "Why not get a shot of yourself posing like the statue of Apollo. She'd get the reference and would love it. Guaranteed."
"I wouldn't have to be naked, would I?" I stalled for time, trying to get either Quinn or Stacy to interrupt.
"Nah, we don't do that here. But what you and her do later is no business of mine." Steve joked.
"Hang on just a minute, I need to get my friend here." I broke away from Steve and rejoined Quinn and Stacy. Stacy seemed really upset, and Quinn was trying to cheer her up.
"What's wrong, Stacy. You just let someone poach your customer." I asked her. Stacy clammed up, trying to answer my question, but it seemed as though she couldn't form the words, and all she got out was more whimpering.
"Stacy!" Quinn joined me. "I told you the same thing. You can't just let them walk all over you."
"I'm sorry, Quinn!" Stacy was apologetic.
"Don't apologize, get your deal back! Tell Tom what he should do!" I was impressed with how Quinn was commanding Stacy. I sat there with a smile on my face, eagerly awaiting Stacy's reply. Stacy turned towards me and was about to say something, but Steve shot her a look at she clammed up.
"Quinn, I think we should get going. We still have other places to go." I informed her. This venue was tapped.
"Uhhh, Stacy, we need to go." Quinn replied. We walked out of the shop.
Once we left, I had Quinn direct me to this Jeffy, the other success she had mentioned. She had mentioned that he did shows, but when she brought me to the convention center where he was working, it was clear that he position was more of a master of ceremonies. The convention center was holding a benefit, a charity fashion show to raise money for a hospital. Jeffy, wearing a black tuxedo, was announcing each of the women as they came on stage, and discussing their outfits. I told Quinn to watch Jeffy, who was clearly having a great time. He was quite animated, gesturing towards the women, cracking jokes, even out and out flirting with the much older women. He was quite the salesman, and many of the guests were raising their placards increasing their bids, which only made Jeffy become more animated.
After the show, we went backstage to see Jeffy.
"Quinn! You came to see my show!" Jeffy was even more excited then Stacy, practically falling over himself to reach her.
"You were fantastic." I praised. Jeffy was still eagerly looking at Quinn, and probably didn't even hear me.
"Jeffy, this is Tom, he's a friend of the family." Quinn introduced. It wasn't until the object of his affection introduced me that he acknowledged me.
"Hey, thanks, man." Jeffy acknowledged before turning back to Quinn.
"So, Quinn, want to see another show? I can get tickets for you, any day you want!" Jeffy eagerly offered.
"I'm a little busy this week, but I'll see." Jeffy seemed a little disappointed in Quinn's refusal. I saw my opportunity to finally speak to him.
"So what made you want to do these types of shows?" I asked Jeffy. "Is it always fashion shows?"
"Oh no, we did a car show two weeks ago, dude." Jeffy replied. "A couple of us guys tried out and I got it. We were around with Quinn about a month ago and she said that it looked like a fun job, so we all said we were going to try it so Quinn would come. And she did!" I was surprised how much this guy worshiped Quinn, and how little it seemed to bother her. Was I like that with Daria?
"We should probably get going. We still have some errands to run. Bye, Jeffy." Quinn was friendly, but brief, with Jeffy, and the two of us departed the convention center.
Rather then go back to the library, we headed to Pizza Palace. I thought Quinn would be one of those cheese-less pizza girls, so I just ordered myself a slice. I quietly ate in the booth, waiting for her to ask the question on her mind.
"So...why did we go see Stacy and Jeffy?" Quinn asked after a few seconds of painful silence.
"How did Stacy get those pictures in the window?" I asked, ignoring her question. Her answer would come in time.
"Well, Stacy mentioned once that she wanted to prove to her boss that she could do this job, so I bought some issues of Waif and Cargo, then I had Joey and Tiffany come to the store and had Stacy direct them to pose like the ads, but then I told her to change it around so she could say it was her own. I think that Steve guy showed up that time too, but since Stacy was directing them he went away."
"Quinn, why do you think Jeffy does so well at what he does? Are you smarter then Jeffy?" I quickly changed questions.
"Jeffy didn't do too bad at school. I mean, when Daria taught our class Jeffy did as good as I did with Romeo and Juliet, but he's really bad at math." I chuckled inwardly as I remembered that. Quinn tried to make the test easy, and Daria made the test open-ended. Quinn did well, it seemed.
"If you're smarter then Jeffy, why is he the success he is?" I posed. Quinn didn't answer.
"Why did Steve poach me from Stacy, but keep Joey and Tiffany?" I posed her another question. "You were there both times, weren't you?"
"I don't know. That's why I want to be tutored. So I can be smart and know stuff and even if I'm not as smart as you or Daria I can at least know something." Quinn seemed depressed, and I regretted that a little. But Quinn didn't need a tutor anymore; she didn't really need one in the first place. She needed a swift kick to the ass. And considering how much Jeffy and Stacy were both moved by her, she needed it as soon as possible.
"Quinn, why is it that Jeffy can engage a crowd of a hundred people and get them to donate money? Why does Stacy get a picture in the window one time but loses a customer the next? The answer is the same for both questions, and once you know that, you won't need a tutor anymore. Why..." I paused. I knew what I wanted to say next, but even I was hesitating.
"Tom?"
"Why is it that Daria ignored all the taunts and jeers of her classmates and did whatever she wanted." I noted, almost with reverence. It was the part of Daria I liked the best. Quinn wasn't answering any of my questions.
"Think about that." I told her. "If you can figure it out before school starts, you'll be able to do anything you want. But if you don't..." I paused again. I didn't want to state that answer.
"I'm...I'm gonna head home." Quinn, deep in thought, stood up to leave. I never thought my own comments would depress me.
"What do you want, Tom Sloane?" I thought. "You have it, you've been doing exactly what you want. So why are you so mopey? Why do you still feel bad when you told Daria the truth about Bromwell? Why do you hold on to what she said? Because you believe it, don't you."
"Hey, stranger!" I heard a familiar voice. I looked up from my slice to see Jane. I was positively overjoyed to see her again.
"Sorry, I just zoned out a bit. Pull up a seat."
"I'm with Trent. Come over and join us." Jane was pleasant and friendly, and I grabbed my half-eaten slice to join her. Was she looking for me all these time?
"Hey, Tom." Trent's slow voice greeted me. I returned his greeting.
"I haven't seen you in a month." Jane replied.
"Did you need another art critic?" I asked with a smile.
"Fresh set of eyes is always handy, and I even have paintings."
"My favorite. How about Saturday?" I offered.
"Which country club event you skipping out of?" Jane asked.
"I'll tell you when I learn what it is."
"You don't know?" Trent asked.
"I don't have to, I'm going to skip out."
"Oh." Trent looked at me quizzically, as if I had just admitted to wearing women's underpants.
"Did I just see you sitting with Quinn?" Jane asked.
"Yeah, I was tutoring her." I replied.
"Tutoring? What happened to the Tom who used to tease Quinn with highbrow insults?"
"I was bribed." I replied. That wasn't a total lie, after all. She did bribe me before I offered to do it for free.
"Isn't that Daria's sister?" Trent asked.
"Thanks for joining the program." I teased Trent. Jane and I often teased her brother. Now, though, Jane didn't seem amused, although she didn't seem angry. Perhaps she was still thinking art.
"How's your family?" I asked.
"Mom and Dad are still in the Azores." Jane replied. "I wonder if they'll be back before I start at BFAC."
"Doesn't mid-semester start in October?" I asked. To go entire months with parents not even in the country. Sounded like a luxury to me. But it was fortunate that Jane was able to form morals from such absence. There were lots of other ways she could have turned out. We sat in silence for a moment.
"How's Daria?" I asked.
"Why ask me?" Jane returned.
"You're best friends."
"Weren't you two going to keep in touch?" Jane returned. "And you've been seeing a lot of Quinn."
"It's Quinn." I returned. "And keeping in touch...doesn't always end well." I tried to avoid saying that Daria and I did nothing but fight. But Jane probably knew that anyway.
"Fair enough. I've barely seen her." Jane replied. I couldn't tell whether or not she was telling the truth. Jane was infinitely better at hiding her emotions then Daria, probably because she was more emotional to begin with. She had more practice faking it. I knew only what she wanted me to know. It made her mysterious, almost like an oracle. It was one of her more attractive features.
"I'm going to get another slice. Trent, you want?" Jane stood up to throw her plate away.
"Hmmm..." Trent mentioned.
"Penny for your thoughts." I asked.
"You want to buy my brain?" Trent asked. I winced. Trent had a way of missing the point on popular sayings. Sometimes, I thought that Trent just said things like that as a way of insulting people who don't say what's really on their mind, but I reasoned that would require too much effort.
"I just wanted to know what you were thinking."
"So, if you want to know how Daria is, why haven't you talked to her?" Trent asked.
"I've seen her over the summer a few times, but all we do is fight. I've got enough on my mind then her."
"Hey, people break up." Trent replied. "You aren't still mad about that, are you?"
"Whose mad? I'm not mad." I defended, weakly. I wanted to avoid the topic of our break-up, especially with Trent. He had a way of getting people to say what was on their mind, which was precisely what I didn't want to say.
"I've been bothered by college." I stated. "It's too much to deal with that and Daria."
"You aren't at college yet." Trent pointed out, in his slow monotone.
"It's really about the admission."
"You were already accepted." Trent stated again.
"Wow, you really have no defense against that." I nearly laughed as I thought to myself.
"I'm concerned that I was accepted for reasons not related to my own merits." I worded carefully. Trent needed everything spelled out.
"Like what?"
"Because my family went there."
"What does that have to do with you?" Trent kept asking single sentence, single thought questions.
"My thoughts exactly." I thought. I had absolutely no idea how to word something that complicated for Trent. How could I explain to him that I thought they accepted me because they wanted my uncle to donate another wing?
"I haven't seen you at Spiral's gigs." Trent noted. "I thought you liked coming."
"I do, it's just...well." I started to stutter.
"Wow, Tom. You're, like, dead inside." Trent delivered. Trent was neither cruel or callous, he stated it as if he was answering what toppings he wanted on his pizza.
"Ouch." I thought. Even Daria wasn't that cold.
Jane rejoined us with pizza, and we ate in silence. I would never expect Trent to talk much, Jane concentrated solely on the food in front of her. I had too much to think about.
