5.
On Saturday night, Trent found himself experiencing something quite rare for him: restlessness. It was a state of unease that generally required more energy than he cared to invest in anything that wasn't a gig. Naturally, he himself was surprised. He'd expected this night to pass like any other. So what if Daria was with Tom tonight? Doing things that he'd rather be the one doing with her, and to her, and for her...
This is twisted he grumbled in his head, pushing up from the couch. It wasn't supposed to be this way. It was supposed to be...fun. Just for fun. A favor for Daria, and hey, how could he complain? Problem was, it wasn't just amusing. It was fantastic. And as he thought it, Trent realized he didn't just mean the pleasure, though it was a plus. It was the very act of getting so close to another human being. To Daria, of all people. The queen of her fortress, who kept all at bay with those impressively fortified walls at all times. To hear his name on her lips like a prayer was something he never thought he would experience. And now that he had, he found he wanted to do it again.
Therein lay a problem.
Trent wondered what it would be like, the next time they saw each other. They'd agreed to keep it casual, but would it really work out that way? It could. Or it could be painfully awkward. Or simply, just painful.
Trent decided to drop in on Janey, hoping to distract himself. It felt strange to have her home on a Saturday night, but with Daria engaged elsewhere, what else would Jane do but paint?
"Hey Trent," she said as his lanky form filled her doorway. "What's up?"
He shrugged. "Not much. Can't sleep." He crossed the floor to sit on her bed. "What are you doing?"
"You know, the usual madness, mayhem, and defacement."
Trent picked up the book Jane seemed to be copying out of. It was a familiar painting. The Mona Lisa, in a full color plate, smiled out at the viewer with that timeless, haunting curl of mouth, that Trent couldn't help but recognize. "I know her," he said quietly, turning the page to the text caption.
"Yes, well, she's a very famous painting," mocked Jane. "You know, by that dude Leonardo?"
Trent rolled his eyes, reading the text. "Whoa. Did you know that dude carried this rolled up painting with him everywhere?"
"Until his death," said Jane.
Trent took another long glance at the painting, before handing Jane back the book. "I don't blame him."
Somewhat bewildered, Jane watched Trent cross the room, out the door almost as soon as he'd entered. Shaking her head, she went back to her painting, copying La Giaconda to her canvas. Who knew how the poor woman would fare, at the mercy of Jane Lane's artistic whimsy?
Soon, stray notes from Trent's acoustic guitar drifted in from next door. Something had obviously inspired him.
OOOOOO
Inspiration had gotten under Trent's skin, and had not yet left three days later. He worked and worked on his new creation, filling out lyrics and chorus and harmony until eventually, a whole song emerged. And much to Jane's chagrin, he played it over and over again. She didn't know all the lyrics, she could never quite make them out through the door. But bits and pieces were branded upon her brain. Helplessly she found herself singing softly, "Mona, Mona, Oh how I have known you," and humming the rest.
"What are you singing?" asked Daria.
"New future Mystik Spiral material. For now Trent's just been roughing it out on the acoustic...you'd think the kid can't play anything else, he's been going at it so religiously."
"Mona?"
"The Mona Lisa, I guess. He was acting so weird Saturday. Like he was restless, or something. Pacing around the house, in and out of my room. Saw a picture of the Mona Lisa in one of my art books and instantly dashed off to write that damned song."
Daria raised an eyebrow, that damned blush threatening to make itself known just below her collar, though there was no exact reason for it. "So, he's suddenly acquired an appreciation for 16th century Italian Renaissance painting?"
"Fuck if I know. Speaking of Saturday..." Jane leered at Daria. "How did it go?"
Now the blush rushed in, invading Daria's face and leaving no territory unconquered. "Fine," she mumbled.
"Just fine?"
Daria smiled slightly. "It was nice." And it had been. Painful, yes, though not as much as the first time. Nor as...physically satisfying, but that wasn't the point, right? She knew Tom had not only enjoyed himself, but also, perhaps even more so, seemed to appreciate the gesture of trust she offered him. Such a thing seemed far and few between, coming from her.
The realization made her a bit sad, yet she knew not how to change it, without changing herself drastically. And that, she owed to no one.
"It'll get better," said Jane, as though she were a great expert. "Give it a couple weeks; you'll be experiencing soul-shattering orgasms in no time."
Daria couldn't help but wince at Jane's enthusiasm, and nearly dropped a quip about her brother doing just that as revenge. But that would have raised questions, far too many questions, that Daria just did not want to contemplate at that moment, much less discuss with Jane.
In fact, keeping the whole affair with her brother under wraps would have just suited Daria right down to her boots. Though she and Jane had managed to patch their friendship, Daria couldn't help but think that sleeping with Jane's brother whilst she was still dating the man Daria stole from her would strain things between them again. She did not want to deceive Jane, but at least for the time, she felt her hands were tied. How did she, Daria Morgandorffer, of all people, get herself into these strange soap-operaesque situations?
Well, she never liked to do things the way everyone else did. That was what she got for not being a joiner.
Or something.
"Want to come over after school?" asked Jane.
Daria's stomach flip flopped, this time in a nauseas manner. "I can't today. Homework...paper...I can after Wednesday." More lies. Daria found lies did not bother her with most people, even Tom, but she hated lying to Jane.
Sensing something was up, but not exactly sure how to call her on it, Jane quirked an eyebrow but let it go. "Alright. Sick Sad World Friday, then. Spend the night, we'll have a pizza extravaganza."
"Deal."
