When I awoke on Friday, I could barely muster the effort to get out of bed. I had tried to teach Quinn the final lesson she needed, but all it ended up doing was depressing me. For all my talk, I really had no right to lecture her on performing tasks confidently when all I had been doing ever since the breakup was going through the empty motions of life. And if Trent noticed it too, that was definitely a concern. For all of Trent's laziness, he could speak his mind.

I never thought self-reflection was a bad thing, but with all the time I've been spending with my thoughts, my thoughts were delving into some dark places, and that was where I didn't want them to be. I briefly considered attending one of Mom's functions, but dismissed the idea as soon as it came up. I'd just be alone with my thoughts there too, not to mention have to dress up.

I lay in bed until late in the afternoon. The house was quiet. Elsie was probably passed out in some random guys house, Dad was working. I didn't think Mom had an event planned today, but she had been throwing herself into the club with even more vigor then usual.

I dressed. I should at least have looked for her.


Surprisingly, I found her in her study. She worked meticulously at her table, invitations neatly stacked up for some formal affair. Writing was one of Mom's passions, and she always took the time to write invitations, send thank-you notes, and all of that crap herself. Mom had impeccable penmanship and was skilled in calligraphy. She was as devoted as Jane when it came to such art, and I often couldn't find her if she was doing it.

"Hello, Tom." She noticed me in the doorway. "I haven't seen you in a long time." She made it a point to remind me.

"Hey, Mom. What are you doing?" I asked, ignoring her statement.

"Just getting invitations ready for the fund-raiser in August. That's when the new gallery opens." She replied. "What have you been doing?"

"Lots of things." I lied. "Right now I'm applying for a few scholarships." I wasn't doing any such thing, but I figured this would be an excellent transition into my fears about Bromwell.

"Scholarships?" Mom saw through it immediately. "Sweetie, you know your father and I are handling the bill since you already got half in scholarships already before school ended. You're not going to have student debt." My parents had made this arrangement with me when I was applying to college. Through Bromwell itself, as well as a few other institutions, I nickeled and dimed my way to about three-quarters of tuition, and now I didn't have to pay my way for anything that was school-related.

"That doesn't mean I can't apply for more." My defense was pretty weak, but it would work on Mom.

"You're so considerate, Tom. But there's really no need. Save them for someone else, they'll probably need them more then you." That was true, although it's not like I was actually applying. I remembered Jodie's boyfriend and his tales of scholarships.

"Hey, Mom, how many of your family went to Bromwell?" I asked. Mom paused.

"Well, there weren't as many in mine as your father's, but, aside from me, my father and brother both went. That was your Uncle Keith. They both went before me, of course." She explained. I had never met Mom's brother; he was a soldier and died in the Vietnam War, long before I was born. It always made Mom sad, and we never discussed him.

"Why the sudden interest, Tom?" She asked.

"Mom..." I didn't know how else to ask it, so I asked it directly. "Did I get into Bromwell because of all the family we had go there?" I think I knew what Mom would say to that question, but I didn't know how Mom would react. I would have bolted out the room if she laughed. But she kept a straight face.

"Of course not, dear. That doesn't count like it used to." Mom stated, almost with pride that merit mattered more. I remember I had said something similar to Daria a few months and an eternity ago.

"Mom, I...I'm having a hard time believing that." My frown deepened, I almost felt like I was going to cry.

"I know I got good grades, and I know I had a good interview stating all those little stories Grandpa Alex told me. But I had practically no extracurricular activities, and I know Bromwell is really big on that." I noted.

"Well, dear, that's why they count all of those things." Mom replied exactly like I thought she would, which meant she was of no help at all.

"Mom, I can't shake it. Didn't you have this problem when you went to Bromwell?" Mom's face frowned. This was it, the moment of truth. Now, how would she react? I prayed for a miracle.

"Tom, what's wrong, dear?" She asked that question of me often, and I could tell she was concerned, but now I was angry.

"I just answered that." I nearly growled. "Weren't you paying attention?"

"Tom!"

"Mom, I just admitted that I thought I was cheated in the best university in America. This is big. And you're just brushing this off. Can't you see how much this bugs me. Don't you get this at all?" I had never been this angry with her in my whole life, and never took this tone. But this was huge. How could she be so stupid.

"Tom, you have nothing to worry about." She spoke kindly.

"That's such a mom answer." I returned.

"It's the only answer there is, dear. You deserve to get into Bromwell."

"Because of my grades, or because of Uncle Edgar's wing? Think they'll take Elsie if it means Dad'll donate them one?" I dared. If Daria was not Bromwell material, then neither was Elsie. Elsie was about as involved in school as she was, but Elsie's grades were solid C's. Cocaine tended to wreck one's mind seemed.

"That's a little harsh, don't you think?"

"How else should I be? Or did I spoil the plan for buying Elsie's future?" I knew I crossed the line with that one, but I said it anyway.

"Tom!" Mom was very upset. "What is the matter with you?"

"With me? What's wrong with you? Why can't you take anything seriously that isn't about that country club?" It took all my effort to avoid using profanity.

"I am, dear, but you're overreacting. You're letting Daria's rejection into Bromwell affect you. She had a bad interview, remember, and her extracurriculars were less then yours. That doesn't mean you both should have failed." I silently acknowledged the validity of that point, after all, that's what I believed. But that didn't deal with the problem.

"Not to mention her father didn't donate a wing." I commented. Mom ignored it.

"Tom, I don't know what's gotten into you, but you need to get over it, fast." Mom cautioned. "I've been a good sport since you've broken up with Daria but that was months ago."

"Mom, this has nothing to do with Daria and me breaking up. I just admitted what got into me and you ignored it. Then you jump down my throat for acting strange, caring nothing about the why. Some mom." I insulted. Mom looked with equal parts fury and despair.

"Forget I brought it up." I told her, bounding out the door. I couldn't stay here. I thought Mom would see beyond her pretense, but she couldn't. I didn't get my miracle, maybe it was never supposed to occur.


I didn't know where to go. I couldn't just wander Lawndale, and I couldn't stay in the house, I could too easily be found. So I wandered the grounds. We lived on quite a number of wooded acres, and it was easy to disappear here. I strolled along, listening to nothing but the sound of the trees and birds. Eventually, I came to the old swing set, where I sat when I broke up with Jane. I sat in the swing and started to think.

"What is wrong with me?" I thought. If I had asked Mom this question at the beginning of the summer, I would have never blown up with her about this. She would have delivered the same answers, I would have expected them, and it would have been over. I would have moved on easily. I wouldn't have felt any better, but I certainly wouldn't feel as bad as I did now. Maybe I just wanted Bromwell to start so I could get away from all of this. Going months on end without seeing my folks, ignoring their alumni trips, was certainly enough to get me anxious. But I had never taken that tone with my mother before. Only with Daria had I ever gotten that incensed.

"This is all your fault, Daria." My thoughts, the little voice I tried to ignore, moaned. But I couldn't ignore it this time. It was Daria's fault. It all started with her.

"Everyone takes advantage of you, Tom." I thought. "Your sister taunts you because you'll never fight back. Your mother hates you because you see through her lies. Your father wouldn't care if you disappeared. Daria blames you. Daria hates you. They all hate you."

"Quiet!" I growled out loud, briefly forgetting I was talking to myself. This was doing me no good. I need to get out. Go somewhere, anywhere. I considered calling Jane, but I was going to see her tomorrow. I knew who to get in touch with.


"Hey, Quinn, it's Tom." I called up Quinn, who was the only person I could tolerate right now.

"What's wrong, Tom?" She asked.

"Nothing is wrong. Hey, I was wondering, do you want to hit a movie or something? You've been doing so well with tutoring, I think you deserve a break."

"Oh, well, I'm going to this party my friend Lindy is hosting. She's a college student." That sounded perfect. I remained quiet, knowing exactly what would come next.

"Would you like to come?" Quinn offered. Game, set, match.

"Yeah." I answered immediately. As I hung up the phone, I couldn't help but think how desperate I sounded. It was almost like a bad come-on. But I ignored it. Soon, I'd be around other people, and there I could forget that I was a Sloane.


Lindy was an attractive girl, slightly older then me. I could tell from her flushed cheeks she was already tipsy as we arrived.

"Hey, Quinn, glad you could make it." Lindy was very friendly with Quinn, but Quinn responded only politely. Plenty of history between them, I was sure.

"And who is this?" She turned to me. "He's cute."

"Lindy!" Quinn was amazed at her abruptness.

"What? He gets that all the time, probably." Lindy chuckled drunkenly.

"Usually I have to butter them up first. Hi, I'm Tom." I replied. "I'm a friend of Quinn's."

"Not dating, huh? So I do have a chance." She pursed her lips and made a kissing noise.

"Lindy!" Quinn was surprised again.

"Relax, Quinn." I calmed her down. Lindy went to grab another presumably alcoholic drink.

"Uh, thanks. For being so..." Quinn stuttered.

"Relax, I don't just hook up with girls randomly." I chuckled. To myself I quietly admitted that I already learned my lesson there. Lindy's friends were all college students, and if this was the face of the future, the world was in for some bleak times. Every single one of these losers were drunken heaps. I tried to strike up a conversation with them, but the only one sober enough to talk to besides Quinn was Lindy, who was more interested in flirting with me then actual discussion.

"Do you go to college?" She asked.

"I will be. I'm going to Bromwell in the far."

"A smart cutie." Lindy said in an exaggerated fashion. "And to think Quinn has you all for herself. Sure you don't want a drink?"

"I'll pass. I'm driving."

"Quinn knows how to drive, and you can crash here if you want."

"Wow, what is in that?" I asked.

"Have a taste." She offered. "I know how to make a great martini." I denied her again.

"I'm not dating Quinn, so you know. Actually, I dated her sister. Quinn's just a friend."

"Good, because getting into relationships is no reason to mess up a friendship." She noted. I couldn't help but think if Daria and Jane had a conversation like this after Daria and I made out. I wondered which of them was the tipsy one.

"You said dated." Lindy was just about to fall over herself. "You don't anymore?"

"Nah, we're going to different colleges." I was surprised how calmly I was acting about the breakup. Maybe I truly was over that part of my feud with Daria.

"Well, that's good. Long distance never helped a relationship. You gotta try this, Tom, you'll love it. It'll get you ready for college." Lindy offered me her cup. I was about to deny it for the twentieth or so time, but this time, I didn't say no. I didn't want to get into a conversation about Daria, at least, I wasn't going to do it sober.


I don't know what happened after that. I remember Lindy made drink after drink and I, like an idiot, guzzled them down. Quinn was nowhere in sight. My words were slurred, my thoughts muddled. I couldn't form clear thoughts for the longest time.

When I came to, I was staring at a ceiling I didn't recongnize. I was laying on a couch, a pillow under my head, and a blanket up to my chin. Underneath the blanket I was still clothed, although I was missing my shoes. That was a relief, I probably wouldn't have had the dexterity to put my pants back on, so they probably stayed on all night. And someone took pains to make sure I was comfortable, so I had to be with friends. There was no lights on, but there was a soft glow of daylight illuminating the area. It was probably early morning, just after sunrise.

I tried to move, but a heavy pounding in my head made me stop.

"A hangover. Just what I always wanted. What did I do?" I wondered. I lay my head back down and tried to recall my surroundings. Although my head still felt a little fuzzy, I realized I was at Daria's, lying in her living room on the sofa.

"How on Earth did I get here? Did Quinn bring me back? She must be stronger then she looks. Braver too, it takes courage to drive my Rustmobile." I moved slowly, trying to get myself to a seated position. Sitting on the chair opposite me was Daria, dozing off in the recliner.

"Should I just duck out?" I thought. I didn't want to wake her, this was already awkward enough considering I didn't know how I got here. But she was down here when she wasn't in her bed. She was aware. Which meant she had answers. Or questions.

My dilemma no longer mattered a minute later, for Daria heard my grunts and awakened.

"Good morning, Daria." I had no idea what else to say at a moment like this.

"Hello, Tom." Daria's voice was flat. "You're probably wondering why you're here." I didn't answer that obviously rhetorical question.

"Well, I only know things from my end, but at around midnight last night, Quinn calls and mentions that she's stuck at a party and has no way of getting back home."

"And you picked her up? I would have thought you'd tell her to walk for getting into her own problems."

"That was the plan, but then she told me you were with her and completely passed out from drinking too much. I couldn't resist." I frowned. Did that mean Daria wanted to see me in a bad spot?

"Glad to see you still have a heart." I returned. "Can we take this outside, I don't want to wake your folks?" I noted as I found my shoes under the table.


My car wasn't in the driveway of the Morgandorffer's, but I still had my keys. It must have been left at Lindy's. I took a seat on the stoop while I waited for the world to stop spinning.

"Thanks, Daria. For bringing me back here."

"I planned on leaving you there, but Quinn paid me fifty." Was Daria kidding? I couldn't tell.

"I'm not sure if that amount makes me sad or happy." I played along with her joke for now.

"Tom, what were you doing there?" She asked, although with Daria's cynical monotone, I couldn't tell if she was mocking me or showing concern.

"Quinn invited me to the party and I had too much to drink. Never make that mistake again. This must be what it feels like to be Elsie." I told the truth.

"Why were you hanging around with Quinn?" Daria asked.

"She didn't tell you?" I replied.

"Enlighten me."

"It's part of a needlessly elaborate plot to make you jealous and insecure." I scowled a little. "Seriously, Daria, what does it matter?"

"You took my sister to a party where you proceeded to get totally wasted and left her stranded." Daria replied. She had a good point, but I wasn't about to admit it.

"And your sisterly compassion shined through." I noted sarcastically. Daria did not get angry like I thought she would.

"Umm, is everything okay?" She asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine, all things considered. How are you?" I reversed, not considering the more serious implications of her question. Daria didn't answer.

"I'm just saying that this is not like you. You'd go to a party, you'd go make friends, but you'd never get completely trashed. And you'd never ditch a guest."

"Do you want me to admit there's a problem, Daria?" I asked. This question could go so many ways.

"If you have one." Daria noted.

"Well, I don't. This was the first, and last time, I'll ever drink like that. God, I feel so stupid, I really owe Quinn."

"You've been tutoring Quinn, haven't you?" Daria asked.

"Didn't she tell you that?"

"No. Jane did yesterday. How is it going?"

"I'm not going to answer, it wouldn't be fair. You like that word, don't you." My hangover started to disappear, visions of Bromwell in my mind.

"Do you want to pick a fight this early in the morning?" Daria asked.

"No, but that's all a discussion of Quinn would lead to. Just say what you want to tell me, that I shouldn't have gone behind your back like this? That you were concerned I was dating Quinn?"

"No. But I should warn you that Quinn likes to date her tutors. Or try to."

"Out of concern for me, or for her?" I posed. Daria didn't answer.

"I'm not dating Quinn." I admitted. "She's not my type. You know that."

"I think you made a stupid mistake last night." Daria stated. We sat in silence for a moment. I was amazed by how civil we were, considering how much the two of us were frothing at the mouth just a month ago. I still thought Daria blamed me for her rejection at Bromwell, just as I thought she still thought I got into my college because of my legacy as a Sloane. I didn't want to talk about it, not right now, not with my hangover. But I knew we'd have to, one day. At least now there was no fire.

"It's too early for pizza, but do you want to go for some pancakes and eggs?" I offered. "I bet you can't do that with Jane."

"No, I want to get back to sleep in bed. But, ummm, I can take you back to the college to get your car."

"I think I deserve to walk." I noted with regret.

"It's too far to walk. Come on."


"What did this mean?" I pondered as Daria drove. Had Daria forgiven me? Doubtful. Daria was brutal, and I made a really stupid move. I had made dumb cracks before, and I had conceded them to Daria out of my concern for her, but I don't remember a time when she accepted a slight against her and forgave me for it. It wasn't her way. I thought of opening my mouth and asking her, but I bit my tongue. I couldn't fight her now, I was way too exhausted and not feeling well, and Daria would know that she'd have the advantage.

"Are you going to see Jane today?" Daria said the first words in a long time.

"She mention that?"

"Yeah. She's been working non-stop on her art. One time I stopped by and I could swear she was still sculpting as she slept."

"Was it any good?"

"Art is subjective." Daria joked. I got a laugh out of it, but my laugh caused my head to hurt again.

"I'm glad she's going to BFAC." I noted.

"So am I." Daria returned. "Umm...listen, about Jane and her admission."

"Relax, Daria, I already know." I replied. "I know you used me so that Jane would apply."

"You aren't outraged? I would be."

"I was outraged. But it helped Jane more then it hurt me, so I guess I can forgive you." Although Daria kept her eyes on the road, I could swear I could feel her staring at me.

"You're being serious." Daria stated with slight disbelief.

"You sound surprised." I noted. Was it truly so strange to forgive? Maybe for Daria.

"It's just early. I'm really not." Whether it was true or not I couldn't tell, my hangover impeded my thoughts.

"What about that other thing?" She asked.

"What other thing?" I played dumb, but I knew what was coming.

"Bromwell." Daria noted. No surprises there.

"I have no idea." I replied. Perhaps this month really mellowed me out. Was it time, or was it my desperate attempts to be civil after I blew up at my mother.

"What about you?" I reversed. I think I knew what she was going to say, but I needed to hear it from her.

"I've already answered that. You deserved to get into Bromwell." Her delivery was just as flat as it was at Pizza Palace. Even with the hangover, I could tell there was something else behind it.

"You're not going to break up with me now, are you."

"I can leave you here." Daria noted. We drove in silence, I started to seethe, my stomach ached to match my head. I could feel our arguments coming again. But it was easy, suspiciously easy, to control my rage. Was I truly over it?

"Daria, you know I never thought less of you because you didn't get into Bromwell." I said the only nice thing I could think of that was still true about Daria and Bromwell.

"I know that." Daria's response felt like a kiss-off. Again. I don't know what I was waiting for next, but all that followed was an uncomfortable silence. Did I want her to say that she thought I was bright, and actually mean it? Did I want her to snap at me again so that my boredom could melt away? Whatever I wanted was of no consequence. Once I reached my car, Daria dropped me off, and drove away without saying goodbye.