Daria

Wednesday, September 21st, 1983. 11:15 am

"Bonjour, les enfants," Torquin, the French teacher says as he writes Animaux below Monsieur Quinones (Torquin) on the board. This guy has red hair and he is probably about 300 pounds. I'm not even going to guess how tall he is. He's barefoot, and his beard looks a bit hellacious. Heck, his entire body is hellacious.

"What does this mean?" He points the chalk to Animaux and looks at all of us in the eye. Morris Wilson raises his hand.

"Animals?" he says, sounding like he hopes he's right. That's the first time I've seen him raise his hand.

"Oui," Torquin says as he turns. "Get out your notebooks and write done what's written on the board. The first thing you write will be Animaux, or animals in French."

Everyone pulls out their notebooks and pencils and erasers as they start talking. I scribble down Animaux and every French word I know that means some sort of animal in English. It's only two words and they're chat, which is cat, and chien, which is dog.

"Madamoiselle Jones," Torquin's voice booms through out the room. Everyone goes silent. I look up. Torquin is pointing the chalk to chien. I already know what he's going to say.

"Come to the board and write down what this word is." He looks at me impatiently as I get out of my chair and slowly walk up to the front. I hate being called on. It's the worst. I thought being forced by Dad to take French class was bogus since I already know Arabic and English and just a bit of Latin, but being called on in French class in even worse.

"What does this mean?" He hands me the chalk. I stare at the word for a couple of seconds, then I write Dog next to it as quickly as I can. I rush back to my table just after I give Torquin the chalk.

"Bon," Torquin says, nodding. He doesn't say anything for a few moments. Neither does the whole class. Morris Wilson leans over to me and whispers something in my ear:

"I think he wants you to say what that means."

I stare at Torquin wide-eyed. What am I going to do what am I going to do what am I-

I stand up from my seat and take a wild guess. "Who's next?" I pray that I am right.

Torquin shakes his head. "Means good," he snaps. "Back in your chair, Madamoiselle Jones."

The rest of the day passes by very quickly. By the time the bell rings, I already have my backpack on and I'm waiting for Aly to come so then we can walk home together. Aly and I live across from each other, and we've been friends since forever. We've done this for a very long time. I'm just leaning against the wall, standing nearby Aly's homeroom when the French teacher comes.

"Ah, Madamoiselle Jones. I believe you owe me a favour." Torquin looks at me angrily. I suddenly remember. I'm supposed to clap erasers today.

"I-I forgot," I say quickly. "I'll do it right now."

Torquin nods. "Good."

3:00 pm

My backpack's on my desk where Aly is sitting. Another cloud of dust comes from the erasers as I pound them together.

"Clapping erasers is the cheesiest thing ever," I complain as the dust flies into my eyes.

"Fuck'n A," Aly says. I can hear her leaning back with my chair.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I say, as I take the last two erasers. I clap them and more dust flies out.

"That's how my brother says he doesn't like something."

I'm not surprised. My older brother Nico and Josh, who's Aly's older brother, are going to college. Nico's in Edmonton. It's his first year. He left the day before school. It's always like him to do certain things at the last minute. Josh is in Vancouver. For him, it's the second year.

"I know how you feel about Nico, Daria." Aly shuffles in the chair behind me. "I feel that way about Josh."

"I didn't realize I'd miss him," I say, as I finish clapping. "He and I fought with each other a lot. I never fought as much with Arwa and Frada."

Arwa's my older sister. She's in Grade 11, while Frada's younger and is eight, so she's in Grade 3. We get along really well.

I continue on. "I thought that when he was gone, I would have a big party to myself but now..."

I can't finish the sentence. I still can't say that I miss fighting with him now.

"You don't miss your older brother till he's left for college," Aly says. She's standing beside me now with our backpacks. She hands mine to me. I take it. "Let's book," I say, walking out with her beside me.

6:30 pm

As usual, Dad's not home either because of his job as a mechanic or his girlfriend Nirvana, so I turn on the radio. The first notes of a song starts playing, and I think it's called "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun," which I haven't heard yet. Whenever Dad's late at work or is on a date, me, Arwa, and Frada, eat pizza and we do karaoke during dinner. It's a lot of fun. I'm always the one who starts it.

I grab a wooden spoon and climb onto the table. As soon as the girl (Cyndi Lauper? Is that her name?) starts singing with her mint voice, I sing along. I used to lip-sync but nowadays I actually sing. Frada sits on the chair and watches me sing. I do it at the top of my lungs, as always. When I'm done, Arwa sets the pizza on the table and Frada takes her turn. When I'm done singing, it's always her who goes next.

The next song on the radio is "Let's Dance" by David Bowie. I've heard it a couple of times. I take a slice of pizza as Frada sings the lyrics to the song wrong and off-key, like she usually does. We've already done our homework and had it reviewed by someone older (except Arwa since Nico's at college), so we don't have to worry about forgetting.

When Frada's turn is up, Arwa sets her pizza down and takes the spoon. The next song is called "Whammy Kiss," and Arwa sings the song perfectly. She always does.

After dinner, we play Trouble and Sorry! for about two and a half hours. As soon as we hear the door open, we know that Dad's home from work. Arwa and Frada talk with Dad while I head upstairs to figure out what to write to Nico. Dad and I don't get along so well, but Nirvana and I do. I always like it when she comes home.

When it's ten o'clock, it's time to go to bed, and Dad kisses each of us good night. Even me. After that, there better be no sound or light or you're grounded for a week.

This is your typical night at the Jones house. We always save pizza for Dad once he gets home, which is always around nine o'clock if it's work, and half an hour later if it's a date with Nirvana.