Categories > Cartoons > Daria > Tigresses

Alison and the Fallout

by DrT 2 reviews

Jane and Daria deal with the aftermath of ‘the camp kiss’, plus the first session at Ashfield continues as Daria passes on an interesting suggestion.

Category: Daria - Rating: R - Genres: Drama - Characters: Daria,Jane - Warnings: [!!] - Published: 2014-03-21 - 5990 words - Complete

Tigresses Part 4 – Alison and the Fallout

By Dr T

Jane and Daria deal with the aftermath of ‘the camp kiss’, plus the first session at Ashfield continues as Daria passes on an interesting suggestion.


A stunned looking Jane came in the door for their small cabin.

“What’s wrong?” Daria asked, looking up from her laptop.

“Alison kissed me!”

Daria blinked. “Excuse me?” she said, standing up as Jane approached her. She wrinkled her nose. “And why do you smell like wine?”

“Alison kissed me!” Jane repeated.

“So you said.” Daria steered Jane into the other desk chair and swiveled her to face towards Daria’s desk. “Tell me about it.”

“Well,” Jane started, “you know we went to The Hungry Palette, right?”


“We had a nice conversation and the food was decent and inexpensive.”

Daria merely nodded. “And Alison had wine. . . .”

“So did I,” Jane admitted.

Daria frowned. “You do NOT look twenty-one,” she scolded.

Jane shrugged her shoulders. “What can I say? Anyway, when we were done, Alison said, well we agreed we wanted to keep talking. Plus, she wanted to show me some of her pastels.”

Daria couldn’t restrain herself. “Not her etchings?”

“It’s not funny!”

“Sorry,” Daria said sincerely, mollifying her friend. “Go on.”

“Well, we finished off the bottle we started at the restaurant, and opened another as we talked.” Jane winced. “I thought it was a good discussion, but I realize now Alison was getting more . . . adult in her topics and was moving in closer.” Jane flushed. “Then she kissed me.”

“Did you kiss her back?” Daria asked, flashing back to Tom.

“No, but I have to admit I was startled for a few seconds,” Jane had to say. “If I hadn’t already forgiven you for responding to Tom in the car, I guess I would have to now. Alison took no for an answer, but she doesn’t believe I’m straight.”

“I think we both have to take some blame there,” Daria had to say after a brief moment of thought.

Jane frowned. “How is that?”

“Remember, it was assumed at first we were a couple,” Daria pointed out.

“True,” Jane agreed, “but I thought we cleared that up.”

“But remember what we said,” Daria replied. “We made it clear that you and I aren’t a couple.” Jane nodded. “And that I am totally straight.” Jane nodded again, and then waited.

After a moment of silence, Daria reminded her friend, “We didn’t make that clear about you.”

Jane had to think about that, finally saying, “We didn’t?”

“Nope. I’m straight, while the only label you admitted to was artist.”

Jane made a face. “Aw, crap.”

“Sorry,” was all Daria could say, “we should have been clearer about your interests.”

Jane’s shoulders slumped. “I suppose.”

“Are you alright?”

Jane looked up and saw real concern on Daria’s face, as opposed to the mere traces of it in her voice. “I suppose,” she repeated.

“I don’t have to go beat Alison up or anything, right?”

“Right,” Jane said with humor. She (somewhat mistakenly) believed that any revenge Daria got on anyone would rarely be physical, considering her slight build. Jane frowned. “Daria?” She had noticed that Daria was suddenly unresponsive, deep in thought.


Daria looked at Jane calculatingly.

“Daria?” Jane’s voice now had a hint of worry in it.

“Jane,” Daria finally said, “I think I know you well enough to say that you will be tempted to go after male companionship in some form because of this.”

“Maybe,” Jane conceded. “You have to admit, while we’ve gotten some appreciative looks, there hasn’t been anything more than that.” Jane considered Daria’s sudden smug look. “Have there?”

“Yes, and no,” Daria replied. “I was offered a one-time deal tonight for tomorrow night, which I put off and didn’t turn down despite my inclinations, on the off-chance you might want to talk me into it.”

“And you will consider going out?” Jane asked, amazed.

“As I said, to my utter surprise I did not immediately want to turn down the offer, although I was certainly inclined to. Under the present circumstances, I am willing to reconsider the offer.”

“Who from?”

“Fred and Ted.”

“Daria, Fred and Ted are gay,” Jane pointed out. “Or at least bi. They are certainly in a relationship!”

“Yes, Fred and Ted are two males in a relationship. They are committed to each other, but also interested in female companionship. Fred said they would be happy to hang out with us as friends, or they made a one-time offer for a date with some, well, physical contact afterwards. I made it clear that we, or at least I, would only be willing to tolerate some fairly minimal physical contact, certainly nothing that could be really considered heavy making out or petting. Fred agreed, and said in that case, if all four of us found those limits good, things might go beyond one date. So, even though Ted’s head isn’t too big for his body the question is, are you willing to risk your head becoming his lollipop?”

“Ted for me, eh? I guess Fred liked dancing with you.”

“And I with him. That was Fred’s offer,” Daria confirmed.

“And the ‘date’? Why are they interested again?”

“They are interested because, like I said, while committed to each other they also like a little female companionship. On top of that, while they are out in Boston and here, they aren’t to their families. Tomorrow night, we all go a few towns over for pizza, and then to a drive-in where we will apparently be seen by Ted’s family, or not seen if we decide to actually steam up the windows of Ted’s car.”

Jane blinked. “There are still drive-ins? I thought they died out decades ago.”

“Apparently there are still a few, or at least this one,” Daria pointed out.

“Dare I ask what’s playing?”

“Viva Rock Vegas followed by Battlefield Earth,” Daria answered drily.

“High powered, riveting cinema,” Jane drawled. “I can see why anyone at the drive-in would be driven to steam up the windows rather than watch.” She eyed Daria carefully. “This is, to say the least, uncharacteristic of you.”

“True,” Daria said. She sighed, and admitted, “After Tom’s kiss provoked such a reaction, I decided I needed to at least consider, well. . . .”

“Some backseat smooching?”

“For lack of a better term, yes,” Daria had to agree. “Part of me wants nothing to do with this, but I also know that if I have some experience in casual kissing, I might not fall apart next time. This is about as safe as we can get. We know going in that there will be no commitment. I actually do find Fred attractive, and you said Ted is cute. Considering some of your past actions, you have no qualms about casual kissing, and I am resolved to at least try it once. Although it would be embarrassing to make out in any way with others nearby, I think I would feel safer with you there. So, we’ll stick together, and I’ll loan you some pepper spray just in case they aren’t as honorable as we think. And yes, you get the front seat.”

“It had better be a bench seat,” Jane stated, a bit of hope in her voice.


Neither Jane nor Daria saw any sign of Alison the next day, not that either teen looked for her. Jane decided to chalk the experience up to miscommunication. Obviously, the double-date that night would lead to nothing in particular, but Jane decided that just removed all the pressure. If the ‘date’ led to some mild making out at the drive-in (considering the movie line up, they certainly were not going to be watching the screen), that was all the better so far as she was concerned. Jane was a bit surprised that Daria was not only interested (or at least willing) to go along with the idea of any kind of date, but that she was apparently interested in what was frankly a ‘make-out date’ to some degree. Jane was also surprised, and grateful, that Daria was more interested in Fred than Ted, as Jane thought Ted the slightly more attractive of the two. Of course, it had been clear at the dance that Fred as least found Daria attractive. While neither of the two painters were quite ‘hotties’ by any definition, both were good-looking enough young men, of fairly average height and average coloring – a bit like Tom would look like in a few years, as Jane thought about it. ‘Maybe that’s part of it,’ Jane thought. Ted looked a bit more like Tom, and Daria might be influenced by that.

While Jane found herself looking forward to the double-date as Saturday wore on, Daria was obviously becoming more and more nervous as the implications came closer to reality. Jane actually found Daria’s nervousness a bit endearing, but of course knew enough not to comment.

The boys were to pick them up at 4:45, as it would take nearly an hour to get to the pizza place, and it was a further half an hour from there in a different direction over to the drive-in. Jane came out of her room at 4:40, having heard the toilet flush and the bathroom door open. She wondered if Daria would be ready, or if nerves would have slowed her down.

‘I should have known very little can throw her off-schedule,’ Jane thought. “You look good,” Jane said simply. Daria’s boots here polished to a high-gloss, and she was wearing the black jeans that even Quinn had approved of. Jane rolled her eyes at the ‘Mystic Spiral’ t-shirt Daria was wearing – Jane had made a few as a joke when she had been allowed to play with silk screening the previous summer. As far as she knew, this was the first time anyone had worn one.

Jane looked confused for a moment at Daria’s looks, and then her eyebrows went up.

“What?” Daria demanded.

“Nothing,” Jane replied, not about to comment that Daria’s make up was lightly and expertly applied. She especially liked the light pink lip gloss. “Like I said, you look good.”

“Thank you.” Daria looked Jane up and down, even though Jane at least was dressed as she often did, minus the leggings because of the heat, although things would likely cool off fast that night. Daria picked up a red windbreaker and fished in one pocket. “Ultra-strength pepper spray?”

“Better safe than sorry,” Jane agreed, taking the small canister. “Cool. It really is the same super-strength kind you had me practice with.” She looked at Daria. “Where’d you get all these, anyway?”

“Do eighth graders get a tour of Lawndale High, like they did in Highland?”

“They do,” Jane agreed. “They come over in small groups.”

“Back in Highland, all the middle schools did the tour at the same time. During my tour of the high school, I gave a ninth grader, who was sixteen and who would be my class mate the next year by the way, an alibi when he knocked the snot out of that pair of miscreants I told you about. Earl gave me the choice of a police special or a case of high-powered pepper spray.”

Jane blinked. “Do I want to know where he got a whole case?”

“You can ask but I never asked him. I just thanked him politely and made a deal with him to let me know ahead of time in case he needed another alibi when I got to Highland High. I didn’t go to the same middle school as the two idiots, but I had run into them more than a few times over the previous years. I knew they’d get on everyone’s last nerve.”

Jane raised her palms. “I don’t want to hear anything else that might force me to testify in court.”

“By the time I left a year and a half later, I had been given four more cases.”

“I said, I do NOT want to hear any more!”

“I still have two and three quarter cases. . . .”

“Not listening!”

“It turned out Earl was mildly dyslexic, although he hadn’t been diagnosed of course. I taught him a few tricks on how to deal with that, and he finally passed ninth grade. In return, he gave me that set of picklocks and the blackjack I showed you once, and taught me how to use them.”


“I never actually used that blackjack, but he also gave me a pair. . . .


Daria smirked.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Jane asked.

Daria merely nodded, and said, “If Tommy Sherman had been at Highland, where there were no security cameras and where there was a pretty-much hands-off approach to life in the corridors between classes as long as not much actual blood was spilled, he would be alive today. I like to think I would have pepper-sprayed him and then probably coshed him to the floor and kicked him in the nuts, and then every girl he had hit on would have done the same, but he would be alive.”

Jane could merely shake her head in amazement. The pair turned as they heard a car come over the gravel near their cabin. “Ready for the boys, pizza, and the drive-in, Laverne?” Daria asked.

“I hope that’s not a remark on our personalities but on this 50s-style date,” Jane retorted.

“Of course it is.”

“Then come on, Shirley.” The two joined arms, smirked, and then separated to go out the door.


Neither teen felt like going over to the dining hall for breakfast the next morning, so they just fixed themselves hot chocolate when they got up a little after 9:00. Both were just wearing over-sized t-shirts and moccasins. Daria ignored Jane putting a tablespoon of instant coffee into her hot chocolate. Instead, she held out an envelope. “Here. This was tacked on the door when we got back last night.”

“H’mmm?” Jane muttered, still at best half awake. Daria waved the envelope, which finally drew Jane’s attention well enough to take it. She opened it and read through it slowly.

“It’s not a death threat, is it?” Daria asked.

“Well, it is from Alison, but it’s an apology. She also says she would like to show me her pastels, but in a more neutral situation.”

“So you think it was just miscommunication and wishful thinking on her part?” Daria asked.

“Well, I know I don’t give off ‘gay vibes,’ if there are such things,” Jane retorted. “And from the little I saw of her work, she is very good.”

“Fair enough. You have a slight hickey at the base of your neck, by the way, under and just a little behind your left ear.”

“Just the one? Ted seems to be a nibbler.”

“Let me see.” Daria pulled the blinds above between the desks, and then sat back in her desk chair and pushed back to do the same on the front window. Jane shrugged and pulled off her shirt. “No, no other bites and no bruises,” Daria observed. “Just the one nibble.”

Jane slipped her shirt on. “How about you?” Daria did the same, and was found unmarked. As Daria quickly slipped her shirt back on, Jane asked, “Do you know if Ted’s family saw him?”

“Sure did,” Daria answered. “They apparently own, or at least run, the drive-in. Didn’t you notice he didn’t pay?”

“The ticket guy could have been a friend,” Jane pointed out.

“True, but when we were getting the food and sodas, while you were still in the toilet, those girls behind the counters all knew him, and one of them called him ‘cuz’.”

“Case proven,” Jane agreed. “Shall we take in the sun and create after brunch?”

“Sounds good,” Daria agreed.

“Think the guys will ask us on a second date?”

“Just ask what you really want to ask, Jane,” Daria said flatly.

“I enjoyed myself,” Jane admitted. “Ted is a good kisser, his hands didn’t roam much, and when we weren’t kissing, the conversation was good.”

“It felt odd, kissing someone I had no emotional attraction to,” Daria admitted. “I thought I would feel used, but I didn’t.”

“At least not in a bad way,” Jane suggested.

“Not even used in a good way. We had fun; and yes, even though I would never admit it to Quinn, I enjoyed all the aspects of it.”

“Shocking,” Jane teased.

“For me, it is,” Daria pointed out.

“Daria, in a way, I am really impressed by the way you’ve opened yourself this summer. Even after Tom kissed you, I would still have been shocked to know that you would sunbathe in a halter top and short shorts in bare feet, go to a party in a vintage swimsuit with body paint on and dance, and go to a drive-in with make-up on and make out.”

“It hasn’t been easy,” Daria admitted. “There is still a small part of me screaming and embarrassed about all of it.”

“But you’ve come to realize that most of your fears about exposing the ‘youness inside you’ haven’t come true, that you are not risking as much as you thought you would be, and that, overall, it’s enjoyable.”

“A few months ago, my response would have been, ‘I hate you’,” Daria admitted. “Now, I’ll just say, ‘you’re mostly right’. It’s still not easy; I don’t think it ever will be. Still, that’s because I am opening the defenses I developed over the years. I think the Daria you’ve been seeing here is the real me, uncovered.”

“I liked the old Daria, but I like this one, too. I’ll try and not be pushy when we return to the land of the Stepford jocks and cheerleaders, so long as you don’t completely revert,” Jane replied. “Any other observations from last night?”

“Yes,” Daria said. “Granted the previous samples were limited ones, I’d have to say Fred is a slightly better kisser than Tom – and neither are as good as you.” Daria stood. “Still, the other two stirred my hormones more.”

Jane nodded as Daria went over to scrounge for some snacks to tide them over. “You kiss better than most of the boys, and much better than Alison, but we don’t need to increase the girl sample, right?”



SUBJECT: fun and games
DATE: 07/07/00


I am glad that, overall, you are finding the art colony rewarding, and life there liberating. May I just add a friendly word of warning? Fred and Ted are the gay (presumably bisexual) couple you mentioned early on, aren’t they? If so, be extra careful; they are probably being very upfront and if so, hopefully you’ll have fun. I won’t say anything about drive-ins (I thought they had died out!). I certainly can’t, because I (and Rita for that matter) were making out at drive-ins when we were fifteen. I think your mother waited until she was sixteen before she did the same. Should you eventually decide to go past necking and light petting, make certain the windows are completely shut and entirely steamed up.

That brings me to my warning. The two guys are not only older than you, they are presumably in a sexual relationship. That might allow them to make out with you and Jane without putting pressure on you, or it might cause them to subtly put even more pressure on the two of you to go further than you might plan on. Also, I am sure you know that falling for Fred in this context will only lead to heartache, but sometimes physical contact can lead to liking, even falling for someone you were with ‘just for fun.’ I’m just asking you to be careful. Please send more photos.


PS polkas?


SUBJECT: your warning
DATE: 07/08/00
ATTACHMENTS: amazons14.jpg


Thanks for the mail. I don’t think your warning is necessary; at least we had fun last night! I admit, I have never done anything like that (and it was at most only heavy ‘necking’ – no petting!); interesting that my mother and aunts were so much more precocious! I think we can trust Fred and Ted, but I will stay well-armed with pepper-spray, and ready to use it. I don’t think I will develop serious feelings for Fred, but I can see how it could happen. Thanks for the reminder.

As for the polka, no, I can’t say I like the music, but neither will I gyrate in place pretending it’s a dance. A polka allows some structure. Attached is a photo from a slow dance.



SUBJECT: re: re: re: college
DATE: 07/07/00

Hey Kiddo!

I just thought I should respond, as your mother had an emotional reaction to your letter. On the whole, probably a good one, but I doubt she’ll write before sometime tomorrow. I think I know what you meant, and how you felt, in that last paragraph. I felt much the same when I got to Middleton. Fathers don’t like their daughters growing up; I think that’s why I try to think of you more as my child than as my daughter. So, my child, my heir, I am still very proud of you. Keep going just as you are. Daughter: don’t grow up too fast!



SUBJECT: your note
DATE: 07/08/00

Dear Father:

Thank you very much for your love and support. I appreciate and need both.

Your child,


I love you, too.

Your daughter,


“Jake! Aren’t you ready to go yet? The Lawndale Regional Business Leaders’ power Sunday brunch will be starting, and we both need to network!”

“I’m ready, Helen!” Jake called out happily as he logged off. As he came out of the little home den/office he shared with Helen, he asked, “Are you still upset with Daria?”

Helen’s shoulders slumped. “No. Now I’m just upset with myself.”

“We tried to do our best,” Jake said comfortingly. “We made mistakes, just like Daria and Quinn will in that far far distant future when they adopt kids, since they’ll never have sex.”

Helen rolled her eyes at Jake’s attempt at humor, but he went on. “Hopefully, whatever mistakes they make, they won’t make the same ones we did, just as hopefully we haven’t made the same ones our parents did.”

“You haven’t,” Helen agreed as they exited the house. “Somehow, even though I’ve tried to avoid it, it seems that Quinn is a somewhat smarter version of Rita, and Daria displays the most annoying traits of me and Amy combined.”

“I guess your mother cursed you better than mine did,” Jake said.

“What?” Then Helen realized what Jake had said. “You’re right; I got two children just like Mother’s three.”

“I thought you said Quinn was acting better,” Jake pointed out.

“True, just like Daria is.” Helen sighed. “It seems they are finally growing into their own selves, instead of mirroring the battling Barksdale sisters.”

“You’ll let Daria know you’re not upset, won’t you?” Jake hinted.

“Remind me when we get back.”

SUBJECT: your last letter
DATE: 07/08/00


There are many things I could say about the last letter you sent to your Dad and me. First of all, let me say that I am not upset with you. Rereading your last full paragraph, I can see why you have such opinions, even if I do not fully subscribe to them. From my point of view, I have always tried to make certain you have options in life, rather than allowing you to fall into in to a rut by default. That it might be a comfortable rut is beside the point. I am sure there have been times (if not as many as you might think) where I have pushed you too far. There have likely been times (believe it or not) when I should have pushed you even harder.

Still, you have shown me how you think, and more importantly how you feel, about this on-going debate between us. I remember several times when you were small when you asked to be taken to visit ‘people like you.’ I admit, I didn’t really know what you meant, and at the time you probably didn’t either. Your Dad and I admit we made a mistake when we moved to Highland back when I was starting my law-career full time; those jobs sounded so good on paper, but by the time we realized how much we disliked them, and how bad Highland was, it was too late and we all suffered for it, you and your father even more than Quinn and I. We tried for six years to leave that awful place. It was only two years ago when we felt we had the equity to get your father’s business started and for me to start the uncertain process of a seeking a partnership in such a major firm. We felt we didn’t dare try anything as risky until we had safe college funds for you and Quinn in case we failed.

I hope you can forgive me whatever errors I have made. You are starting to make a success of your life, at a much earlier age than most – the majority of new college graduates, or at least those going into their senior years, would envy your position and your potential. I hope you can often find yourself feeling as you claim you feel at Ashfield; most people have to ‘make do.’ I hope for more for both you and for Quinn.

I suppose I can see why you think you might revert to your former behavior at Lawndale High; I would hope that if you do, it will not be a full reversion.



SUBJECT: re: your last letter
DATE: 07/08/00

Dear Mother:

I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree, or in your words ‘continue to debate.’ At least we both seem to feel that it is progress. Please just remember, I am not just a shy version of bouncy outgoing Quinn, any more than she is a prettier version of me who just needs reminders to do her homework. I am learning to admit I am attractive, if not as cute and naturally outgoing as Quinn, and you cannot force me into that box. Quinn is a lot smarter than she was willing to show (I am glad her tutoring is going well after such a rough start), but she is not an intellectual or any other sort of deep thinker. Calling oneself a genius is looked down upon in this society, but I am a somewhat attractive genius who doesn’t want to get by on her looks but who is learning to acknowledge those looks. Quinn is a beauty of above average intelligence, who is learning she needs to learn how to use that intelligence to secure the future she wants. Encourage those trends if you must, but while acknowledge that we have very different paths we need to primarily follow.



That Monday, Daria met Jane as Jane returned to their cabin to get ready for dinner. “Did Alison speak to you?”

Jane nodded as she tossed the smock she wore during her oil painting sessions on her desk chair. “She apologized again, and we spent the rest of the session making fun of Daniel. I am SO glad I am not taking the second session with him.”

“Who will Alison bitch with, then?” Daria teased.

“Oh, she’s not taking it, either,” Jane replied, stretching and then changing into her running outfit – she liked to run for twenty minutes some evenings, then she would take a shower and the pair would walk up to eat. Other days, the two would take a longer walk together. “She’s just doing pastels and watercolor next session. Your day go ok?”

“So-so,” Daria acknowledged. “Mostly critiquing other people’s stories, but then, I wouldn’t want to be the center of attention all the time.”

“True. Fred and Ted both said to say ‘hello’ and asked if we would be interested in the drive-in a week from Friday.”

“I would, but why not this . . . oh, the poker tournament.”

“That’s it. Plus, if they get knocked out Friday night or Saturday afternoon, the theater in town is showing Gladitor. We’re welcome to come along then, but of course no smoochie-face afterwards.”

“I think I’ll enter the tournament,” Daria mused.

Jane was surprised. “After refusing to gamble on the cruise ship?”

“Watching the marathon with you and then resting on the alleged cruise was more important than missing the marathon so I could be alert,” Daria pointed out.

“Oh,” Jane could only say, a bit surprised and touched.

“Why the drive-in the next Friday?”

“They’re showing Mars Attacks! here that Saturday,” Jane replied.

“Okay, I can live with that. Did either say what gems of the cinema we will be pretending to see that Friday?” Seeing Jane’s smirk, Daria merely sighed and said, “Yes, I would like to go and make out with Fred in the back seat of Ted’s car, rather than risk us all getting too excited in one of our cabins.”

“I agree,” Jane said. “Since I know this is not going be a romance, let alone the love of my life, I don’t want to go too far either. As for the movies, they’re scheduled to be Supernova and The Big Tease.”

Daria just rolled her eyes but said nothing. Neither did Jane, not even about the fact that, although she was wearing no other makeup, Daria was again wearing the lip gloss.


SUBJECT: week four in review
DATE: 07/14/00

Dear Dad, Mother, Quinn, and Amy

Sorry I have to be brief, but I have entered the colony session one poker tournament, which starts just after supper. It’s a tournament, not winner takes all. It goes from 7:15 tonight through midnight (or a little later to finish individual rounds) and tomorrow afternoon from 1:00 through around 5:00, and again from 7:15 until it’s over. The entry fee is only $12 ($2 towards refreshments, $10 into the pool). Cash prizes are only guaranteed to the top five finishers, but probably more will be distributed if they get enough people signed up (there were 29 students signed up as of lunch time).

This week was pretty much a continuation of last week, although the last real instruction was Wednesday. Thursday, today, and next Monday and Tuesday are for finishing up work while being coached/tutored, and the deadline for all materials is noon Wednesday. We have Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday morning off while pieces are adjudicated (although the artists who are staying for second session have access to the studios). Friday afternoon are the awards for pieces completed in the first session. Those who are leaving have to be gone by 10 am Saturday, to allow the cleaning crews to get their rooms ready for the second session. I was told the first session group was a bit larger than normal, and we’ll have a few more people in the second session. Robbie and Robin will be leaving (Robbie was supposed to stay, while Robin was going out to their grad school early to work at an art camp it sponsors; a position opened up in their writing program, so Robbie of course decided to take the offer), but Fred, Ted, and Alison will be here for the second session.

Bye for now


SUBJECT: week five in review
DATE: 07/21/00
ATTACHMENTS: recommendation.doc;

Dear Dad, Mom, Quinn, and Amy

I am sure you have been waiting all week to know the results of the poker tournament. We ended up with 39 students, 9 colony members, and 6 instructional staff members playing, so the prize pool was $540. To answer your question, Mother, the game was always Texas Hold’em. The players dropped to 17 by the end of the first night: Robin, Ted, Jane, and Fred lost in that order, but at least none were the first ten put out. Jane’s pretentious conceptual art instructor Daniel was, however, which pleased Jane. To our surprise, considering the man’s ego, he took his loss with good humor.

Poor Robbie placed into the second round, but with all of 3 chips left. He had to drop out after going ‘all in’ the first hand and so placed 17th. He won a prize of a free soda at the snack bar. Places16 through 12 each won their $10 deposit in the pool back. 11, 10, and 9 got their full $12 back. Alison placed 11th. The big winner got $157.50; I placed 3rd and won $60.

Of course, the real news was the prizes given out this afternoon. Unsurprisingly, since I was spending most of my time in the short story workshops working on the old angst material, I didn’t win anything there. I did, to Bill Woods’ surprise, manage to finish my work though, but I didn’t have any time to do most of the needed revisions. Woods was impressed, and wrote me a letter of recommendation I could include in applications to creative writing programs. He said, if I turned out good enough work in the next session, he’ll write an even better one. He did this one, he said, to show he appreciated my work.

The prizes given are grand prize, gold medal, silver medal, bronze medal, and honorable mention. The revised version of my locked room mystery won a gold medal (ok, they’ll mail me a gold colored aluminum disk that will say ‘Gold Medal, Ashfield Art Colony Summer Arts Program 2000’ on the front, and ‘short story, mystery category’ on the back). John Woods told me to send it in to a mystery magazine which runs a yearly contest for new writers. He said he thought the story had about a 40% chance of being accepted (probably with further editing). A few other of my stories got honorable mentions.

The poem you sent off for me won a silver. I won two other medals for poems, a bronze for a parody of Hiawatha and a silver for one inspired by Ms Barch. It starts:
When the experiment of life is over,
Will God crush our ego, or exalt it?
Bill Woods said to include this one in the volume of angst poetry, I guess to show that early teen angst can grow into late teen sarcasm. Still, all things considered, a modestly successful session.

Jane was much more successful; all four of her oil paintings won medals. They’ll be on display the last day when you come pick us up, although she intends on adding a bit more ‘polish’ to two of the paintings. A few of her drawings also won awards. To say she is happy is an understatement.

I am glad you are all doing well; I certainly am doing well here.

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