Part III: Then We Really Started Talkin'

Ω

Duane didn't remember how long they drove, but it was a while. Houses turned to fields and streets turned to highways as they left the Baltimore suburbs behind.

Other guys at school tried to warn him-don't get attached, don't bother, she'll shoot you down. She just wants popularity and a ride in a nice car before she throws you on the pile. Maybe he should have listened. But oddly enough, Duane wasn't popular. He barely knew anybody, joined no clubs and just did his best to disappear. His attempt to ask Quinn out had been a stammering disaster and she still said yes, albeit after some phone tag...

Yes, the date had been a disappointment. He was no longer impressed by the great and powerful Quinn, he wanted the girl behind the curtain. The glimpses he'd caught of that girl-the one who got him through every day without even saying hi, who turned around and got back in the car tonight instead of going home-those meant everything.

So he drove.

Finally she said, "this is good," and he stopped the car on the shoulder. He turned off the engine, and for a while they listened to crickets chirping in the weeds.

"Duane?"

"Hmm?"

Quinn swallowed hard. "Um, about that girl. In the movie."

He frowned. "Yeah?"

"I don't get it," Quinn whispered shakily. The drama queen was gone. "Why did she get on the bus? She had everything. Like, a best friend, a place to live, a guy who liked her-even if he was, like, WAY too stuffy and unpopular for her. Why would she leave all that behind and just...disappear?"

He heard a hiccup and looked over at her. There was a tear on her cheek.

Duane was awestruck. The relentlessly cheerful, blissfully ignorant Quinn Morgendorffer was crying.

It took him a long moment to find the right words. "Well...it seems like that's up to us to decide."

"What do you think?"

First time she's asked me THAT. "I think it's because...some people just ain't made for this world. They don't feel like they belong anywhere. They're just drifting."

She looked at him. "You mean like you?"

"We're talkin' about the movie, Quinn," he said coldly, surprising himself.

She drew back from him as if she'd been struck. Damn it.

"...Hey. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say it like that. You just startled me, that's all."

"Is it true?"

"Maybe," he said noncommittally. Her eyes tortured him. "Oh, hell. Yeah. Are you kiddin'? I've felt like that ever since I moved here. You want to know the really crazy part? I don't even remember where I lived before this! The South? I don't know, it could been Antartica! I don't remember anything about my family-if they even ARE my family!" Now that he'd started, he couldn't stop. It was like a dam had burst inside of him. "Even my NAME! That's how much I don't belong here!"

Quinn said nothing. He looked up at her. "I feel like I'm an alien experiment or something. You know what helped me keep it together? You." She gawked at him. "Yeah. I wake up with a house and a family I don't remember from a month ago, and I keep myself together and go to school because I know you're gonna be there. Because at least while you're there, I'm just a guy crushing on a girl, you know? Cause at least that...that's normal. The rest of the day...I don't even know what I'm doing...if..." Duane finally trailed off.

Silence. He looked away and wiped his eyes on his sleeve.

"The girl in the movie-she left because she didn't have anything to stick around for. That's what this date meant to me. What it meant to you, I don't know."

She cringed a little, squeezing her hands together.

"But there you go. If it wasn't for you, I'd be right on that bus with her."

Quinn sniffed. "Maybe you two would get along."

He snorted. "What about you, Quinn? What's your story?"

"Oh Duane. Let's talk more about you," she said. He looked up tiredly, expecting more B.S., but her eyes told him otherwise. "I mean...you really do build stuff, right?" He shrugged. "And you do play football, right? Your family-or whoever they are-at least you get along with them, right?"

He nodded. "Yeah. So?"

"So you're good at something. Not like me. This popular stuff...that's like, ALL I can do, you know? I can't get A's. I can't dance. I can't sing," Her fingernails dug into the seat. "I don't even like eating. Tiffany told me she's been...like, making herself throw up? I've done that a few times. It was so gross, though..."

"Jesus, Quinn..."

She was shaking. "My parents don't listen. My sister doesn't care. My best friend wishes I was dead. I just feel like everybody h-hates me."

"Come here," he whispered, pulling her close to him. She stiffened for a moment, then melted and buried her face in his shoulder. They stayed like that for a time, as a train whistle blew in the distance and the smell of smoke drifted over the fields.

Ω

The stars were out. They seemed to go on forever. Duane liked it. It made their problems seem smaller, somehow. Easier to deal with.

"I don't hate you, Quinn."

She smiled and breathed out slowly. "Thanks."

"Look, I know you're, like...afraid to show people the real you and all...but is it really as bad as all this? What if you came home tonight and told Daria you love her? Would that be the end of the world?"

Quinn rolled her eyes. "No. She'll just say 'all right, what do you want? And the answer is no.' I don't blame her either."

"Then hug her. I don't think she could defend against THAT."

"Heh...yeah."

"I mean, maybe you'd get along better with them if you just...um..."

Don't talk down to her, he reminded himself. You're not her dad. Although he should probably know about some of this... Duane thought back on how the man had behaved over SQUIRRELS. Nah, maybe not. But somebody.

With a minor jolt, he realized he WAS that somebody. Probably the only somebody in the world.

If ever he needed a reason to stay here...that was it.

"What were you going to say?" she asked.

"I dunno," he said lamely. "You know...just try."

Quinn giggled and wiped her eyes. "I can't promise I'll try. But I'll TRY to try."

"You gotta start somewhere."

The rest of their conversation passed naturally, like it was meant to be. When the time felt right, he started up the car and drove her back home again.

They walked up to the door side by side. Quinn stopped, took off her necklace and handed it to him. "Here. Keep this."

"Thanks. Um...nice shade of purple," he commented inanely.

"It's fuschia rose."

"Oh. Well, I'm gonna call it purple anyway just to tick you off. That okay with you?"

She tried not to smile and failed. "Yes."

Quinn leaned in and kissed him. Just on the cheek, and it only lasted a moment. But it spoke volumes.

"So. Does that mean it's all right if this crazy hick from another planet asks for a second date with you?"

She pretended to think about it. "Hmmmm...OH-kay. I'll try not to babble and cry the whole time. But we have got to work on your outfit. A denim jacket AND jeans?!"

"I place myself in your capable hands, darlin'." he grinned and waggled his eyebrows at her.

"EEE-yewwww."

She waved and went inside. Duane walked slowly back to his car and sat there for a while before leaving. It happened. He saw the real Quinn, and she needed someone as bad as he did. His troubling memories were fading now; soon they might be gone altogether. He found that he didn't miss them.

Through a pair of glasses and an upstairs window, someone studied him curiously.