Chapter 3

It was while playing his guitar in his room that Trent overheard an alarming conversation taking place out in the hall. Through his cracked door, he could hear the voices of the two Lawndale girls he was most fond. "You're ditching me again for Tom," complained Daria, the pain in her voice plain as day.

"I'm sorry," sighed Jane. "It's just...I really like Tom. He's fun, and new..."

"And I'm yesterday's smelly socks?"

"That's not what I mean, Daria."

Trent noticed Daria walk past his room, apparently heading for the door. Setting down his guitar, he jumped for his door in what was perhaps the fastest reaction he'd executed since middle-school gym class. Did these girls not realize what kind of disaster they were playing with? That friendships could be broken permanently, even one as strong as theirs, if they abused it enough? Determined to fulfill the need of an outside mediator, Trent popped his head out of the door. "Whoa, you two. Listen to yourselves."

Daria stopped in her tracks at the sound of Trent's voice, and slowly turned to face he and Jane. It was the first time she'd seen him since their lock of lips on the floor of his room; even amidst the blinding feelings of anger and betrayal, the sight of him quickened her heart.

With a pointedly annoyed narrowing of eyes, Jane snapped, "Butt out, Trent."

Brother and sister glared at each other, and when Trent did not disappear back into his cave immediately, Jane crossed her arms. An eyebrow raised with a silent, "Well?"

"Daria, just because Jane has a new boyfriend, doesn't men she loves you any less, right?"

"Exactly!" agreed Jane, throwing up her thin arms. "Thank you!"

"And Jane," continued Trent. "Just because you have a boyfriend, doesn't mean you should neglect Daria. Can't you like, spend Friday with Daria and Saturday with Tom, or something?"

He looked between the bickering young women, and expected to be met with something of a reasonable expression of agreement. However, when he turned to Daria, he found her eyes glinting hard as flint. "This isn't a divorce settlement," she said coldly. "I'm not bargaining for allocations of her time she doesn't want to give."

Turning on her heel, Daria made to escape down the stairs again. With an alarmed expression, Jane called, "Daria, wait!"

Once again Daria froze in her tracks, but did not turn, waiting silently for what came next. "It's a really good idea," agreed Jane softly. Perhaps it was the tone of her friend's voice, or the hopes for salvation yet, but Daria slowly turned to look at her friend once again. "Of course I still want to spend time with you," said Jane. "Maybe we can have our cake, and eat it too?"

"Really?" demanded Daria. "Because if this is just a pittance, I don't want it. I don't want a lie with you, Jane. We owe each other better than that."

Jane reached out. "Really, Daria. I mean it. I want my best friend back."

Daria paid Jane a long evaluative stare, gauging the weight of her words. Did she mean it? Or was it a ditch effort to postpone an inevitable demise of their great friendship, all for a boy? Daria found she was willing to give it a try. Finally she said, "Cake it is then. Pass the forks."

Jane laughed, and Daria's released a quiet sigh of relief at the sight of that familiar crimson smirk. "I'm sorry I've been a dummy," she apologized sheepishly.

"I'm sorry too," admitted Daria. "I'm new to this...I've never really had to share you before."

With a shrug, Jane sighed, "Who knew I would someday be cool enough to have one friend and a boyfriend in Lawndale?"

"It's a development that's shocked us all, Lane," said Daria with a ghost of a smile.

"So...it's Friday night. Want to go for pizza or something?"

"But aren't you seeing Tom?"

"It was a loose date. He'll understand."

Daria nodded. "Alright. If you're sure."

"I'm sure," affirmed the artist, meaning every word. Who knew that pizza could have healing properties? With a smile and a sense of accomplishment, Trent slipped back into his room, closing the door quietly.