FicWad

Daria Considers Changes
By Dr T


After the events of ‘The Misery Chick,’ Daria considers her attitudes towards the world and others, and contemplates if change is even possible.

Obviously a work of fan fiction, so no claims are made on canon characters, plot points, or quotes/paraphrasing, etc., only on the plot tweaks.


Silence reigned in Jane’s bedroom for a moment. Daria and Jane continued to look at each other for a few moments more, and then Daria told her friend, “You didn’t cause that idiot’s death.”

“You’re not ‘the misery chick’,” Jane replied.

The two lapsed back into silence, but then Daria felt she needed to ask, “Jane…am I A misery chick?” Her eyes stayed down, and Jane could see real concern and even sadness in her friend’s usually nearly-expressionless features.

Startled, Jane asked, “What do you mean? Like I said before, you think while most others don’t.” Seeing Daria frown, Jane thought quickly and added, “You don’t exude misery, if that’s what you’re worried about, or depression or unhappiness.”

“Really?” Daria’s tone certainly at least implied doubt about Jane’s opinion on those last two ideas. She hadn’t really thought any of that really applied to herself before the recent events, but now she was wondering.

“Okay, you don’t exude happiness either,” Jane admitted. “Neither do I. That’s probably one reason we got stuck in that stupid self-esteem class in the first place.”

Daria nodded thoughtfully. She pondered a bit, and then she sighed and simply stated in her most deadpan voice, “This isn’t working.”

Jane was confused. “What isn’t?”

“My life.”

Jane was startled by that, and more than a bit worried, especially because of Daria’s now even sadder expression – Jane was not used to seeing her friend display this much obvious emotion. “Daria…?”

Daria looked over at her friend, and some of the tension drained from her expression. “That means I….” She considered and rephrased herself. “That means, the way I’m approaching life doesn’t seem to be really working, at least with the rest of the world. That doesn’t mean I have problems with life itself, or at least with being alive – certainly not with me being me or how I think or feel about myself. It just means that Lawndale is different than Highland, and what I needed to do there might not work here. So, it does not mean, well, stop looking at me like I’m going to go for one of your exacto-knives or something similarly drastic.”

Jane looked relieved.

“As difficult as it might be for many of the people around us to believe, I actually like being me on the whole,” Daria told her friend. “I often despise what goes on around me, but that’s very different than disliking my actual self.”

“I can see that,” Jane agreed. “I usually feel the same.”

“I don’t fully know why I’m like this, why I’ve built up so many defenses against all that goes on around us,” Daria mused aloud. Seeing Jane was curious, Daria admitted, “Yeah, I do have some idea of why I am the way I am, of course. I never liked running around or playing on the playground with other kids. I’ve always preferred observing to participating, and preferred reading to most other things on offer in school. That’s just me and I don’t think I could really change that very much, even if I wanted to – which on the whole I don’t. And while I was passively observing, I never….” Daria paused and bit her lip before admitting, “Okay, I very rarely wanted to be participating rather than observing.”

“But sometimes?” Jane asked quietly.

“Sometimes,” Daria admitted. “When Quinn would have a big birthday party, and no one would come to mine or invite me to theirs when we were small.” She gave Jane a twisted quarter smile. “Elementary school was the toughest for me. Believe it or not, middle school wasn’t so bad. There were a couple of girls who included me. Yes, hard as it may be to believe, I actually went to a large number of slumber parties, pool parties, and such, and had a decent time. Even if part of the reason was that I could check out steamy romances from the local library and would read those parts to the group, it was only a part of the reason. If there were more than four girls or seven or so kids total my age doing something as a group, there was a fair chance I was one of them. I was something of the odd one out, but I wasn’t totally out, and I rather liked that. Then one of the two moved away before eighth grade and the other after that year. The remaining girls had stronger friendships with each other, and I was no longer included.”

Daria grimaced at the memories. “There I was, alone again and thrown into Highland High – there was one large and two smaller middle schools in town and we were at the nicest, safest one – a smaller one, two smallish classes per grade, and in the nicest part of town. Highland High on the other hand was a snake pit. Girls, all girls, quickly learned to carry pepper spray or have some thug ready to protect them, if not both.” Daria made a face. “I had heard the stories, and went prepared, even if I had to get my first pepper spray from a neighbor two years ahead of me who took pity on me. I used it once before I ever got into the actual school building and again once right after lunch. I bought my first pair of boots that weekend.”

“How did Quinn deal? Could she get accessorized pepper spray?” Jane asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“She refused to believe me when I told her what it was like, what she had to be prepared for,” Daria answered. “She was already much like you know her now by seventh grade, so she was popular and safe in a safe environment – until her first day of high school. She got felt up in the hallway before homeroom that very first day. I maced the bastard and stomped his nuts. Quinn then accepted the spray I offered her, and she had used it twice before lunch. She then formed a pack of girls that protected each other within a few days.” A group that excluded Daria; something Jane understood without being told.

Jane was speechless.

“If Tommy Sherman had acted like he did back in Highland, some girl would have maced him or their boyfriends would have beaten the crap out of him long before lunch.”

“That’s….” Jane still couldn’t really articulate her feelings.

“Jane, as I’ve told you before, while Lawndale is largely boring, parts of Highland were trash and dangerous. Lawndale High is very likely more corrupt; Highland High was worse in every other way. There were six drive-by shootings at the school my freshman year, one directed into my classroom; there was a stabbing in the school or on the grounds at least once a month and a serious fight if not outright brawl nearly every week, sometimes two or three. One of my classmates had several psychotic episodes, which were usually glossed over if not ignored. Over a fifth of the girls in my class were pregnant at some point between the end of eighth grade and when we left at the start of sophomore year, even if most got abortions. Probably close to a fifth of the freshmen students were getting stoned by the end of classes or right after school at least once a week before the Thanksgiving Break, and probably a quarter of the seniors were stoned before classes most of the time. I’m sure there were a lot more who lit up after school or did something harder, not to mention most students smoked cigarettes after lunch by their junior year, except for the athletes who chewed or dipped instead.” Daria shook her head. “The rest of the county was just as bad, more from meth and/or moonshine than pot, and the worst cases from the county high schools were sent over to the ridiculously-named ‘Hope High’.” Daria snorted. “As in ‘abandon hope, those who enter here’.”

Daria sighed again. “So maybe that’s why I’m the way I am – part natural inclination, part reaction against Quinn hogging our parents’ attention – and most other people’s for that matter – and the conditioning I’ve received from living in Highland in general.” She sighed. “So, now that I’m here in a different environment, maybe I need to change something, at least a little.” She looked at Jane. “I don’t want to sound needy or pitiful, but you are the best thing that’s ever happened in my life, so I don’t mean….”

“I feel pretty much the same.” Jane shrugged. “I don’t think you can change that essential you, any more than I could or would want to – but maybe some minor adjustments…?”

“But what? And how?” Daria was obviously a little lost as she looked at her first real friend.

“Okay,” Jane said, sitting up straight. “Let’s see, where to start?” She smiled, “I think we can rule out most of the obvious things.”

“True,” Daria admitted. “But at a minimum I have to admit, I might be pushing my mother a bit too hard; I don’t want her thinking of sending off to see some quack. I need to back off at least a little.”

Jane frowned, “Have they…?”

“Actually, no; talked about it, yes,” Daria had to say. “If they had had the spare money, they would have sent me to some shrink a few times back when I was in elementary school. Instead, they made me try to learn the flute, made me go to dance class no matter how many times I tripped during recitals, and so forth.” Her voice was very bitter by this point. Jane risked placing a hand on Daria’s. To her surprise, Daria did not move away as she had in the past when physical comfort had been tentatively offered.

Daria suddenly looked ashamed, and actually took Jane’s hand in hers, shocking and pleasing her. “I…I started leaving rather…vivid, violent poetry and short stories around for her to find last summer. Kind of a cry for attention, since she was totally wrapped up in getting this job, getting the house, getting us ready to move – Dad was only a bit of a help, Quinn was a total brat and refused to do anything but complain until forced to by Mom to at least half-ass some work, and I got stuck doing my share, most of Quinn’s share, part of my father’s share, and being Mother’s memory as I had to keep track of everything because she was admittedly overwhelmed. Dad was almost no help in that area, and Quinn was a total hindrance. Nothing I did do was mentioned let alone thanked, only what ‘someone’ had to do or hadn’t done – and somehow, that almost always landed on me, if not upfront then eventually.”

To Jane’s surprise, Daria was actually leaning against her slightly. Jane therefore let go of Daria’s hand and wrapped an arm around her friend’s shoulders – Jane realized that Daria might protest otherwise most of the time, but she did need actual comfort and connections with others at least some of the time. “Are things still like that?” Jane asked softly.

“I suppose not,” Daria admitted, her head now on Jane’s shoulder. “Dad’s usually either in his own world or trying to get his business going. He’s mostly tuned out, but sometimes he backs me up – I just wish I knew if that was accidental or if he’s trying to help me and disguises it so Mom doesn’t explode. As for Mom, she’s is being driven crazy by a boss who seems to be becoming overly-dependent on her.” The frown was back, but even more intense, “Quinn….”

“Quinn is being a brat and she’s insulting you when she isn’t ignoring you,” Jane said before Daria could. “You’re not allowed to change things by killing your sister.” While she would probably never admit it aloud, if killing one’s sister had been socially acceptable, no doubt one of her sisters would have ended her at some point before leaving home for good.

“I could never actually hurt the little pest,” Daria admitted. “Even if it is tempting to slap her around a little.”

“So, correct me if I’m wrong, but you didn’t really like anything about being at Brittany’s party, did you?”

“No, not really,” Daria admitted. Then she smiled, and added, “Well, we did have fun at the gate after we left the party, does that count?”

“It should, at least a little bit,” Jane agreed. She then took a metaphorical deep breath and asked, “Did you want to go to the make out room at all?”

“Certainly not with that dork who tried to get me there,” Daria almost growled.

“But in principle….” This did earn Jane a dirty look and a slight leaning away by Daria. “No, I didn’t mean with my brother. I’m being serious; did you, would you have any interest in being in a make-out room?”

Daria did think about it, albeit a bit reluctantly. Finally, she admitted, “I just can’t see myself doing that.”

“With a guy?” Jane paused. “Or with anyone?”

Daria pulled away slightly and looked at her friend. “Jane, are you trying to ask me something, or tell me something?”

“Ask,” Jane told her. “Nothing against the idea, but I’ve never had a crush on a girl. You?”

“No,” Daria admitted. “I just haven’t seen anyone, male or female, I’m really been attracted to enough to make out with, and don’t say it!” Daria almost snapped those last few words. “I know; I trip over my myself when your brother is around, and yet I honestly still can’t see us…well, in a make-out scenario.” She sighed. “Until I met him, I thought I might be, well, asexual. I still think I might basically be.”

“Asexual as in ‘not interested in any particular type of person’ or as in plain ‘not interested’?”

Daria looked at Jane as bit confused.

“Okay, how often do you, well…touch yourself?”

Daria blushed slightly. “You mean…?”

“Play with your buttons, or whatever euphemism you care to use about pleasing yourself.”

Daria blushed more. “Not often.” It deepened. “Very very rarely, in fact.”

“Hey, no judgement,” Jane reassured her. “If you’ve done it more than a few times over the years, it probably means you just aren’t as obsessed as many of us but are still interested.”

“To be honest, I’ve never…fantasized about, well, anyone in particular while…you know.”

“Really?”

Daria’s blush increased yet again. “Not…successfully. Can we leave this area of inquiry?”

“Sure,” Jane assured her friend. “And so….”

“So I have no reason to think I’m bi or a lesbian, and not all that much reason to think I’m straight, either.” Daria tried to turn the conversation a bit. “You?”

“Well, I know I like boys, even if I haven’t met one I like in particular.” Jane shrugged. “Not really sure if I also like girls in a similar way, but I don’t think so,” Jane admitted in turn. She hugged Daria back into the position she had been in, saying, “So no, I’m not putting the moves on you.”

“Okay,” Daria acknowledged, relaxing into Jane’s embrace a bit. “So, Quinn’s mindless, endless serial dating is as out as cheerleading.”

“Actually, your attitude might be the best one to have for that endless serial dating,” Jane suggested. “No risk of commitment.”

“Possibly true,” Daria had to agree. “Still, unlike for Quinn, the dishonesty of the process would be an even bigger turnoff than the disinterest in the partners or the activities.”

“I have to admit, I wonder about her sexual orientation,” Jane commented. Seeing that puzzled Daria, who obviously had taken Quinn’s activities at face value, Jane went on, “Come on, she leads guys on and she obviously adores the attention, but as far as I can see she doesn’t have any real interest in the boys themselves. And from the rumors I’ve heard, she doesn’t do much more than smile at her dates while they pay for the privilege. So, I wonder if she’s at all interested in the physical part of a relationship, or even the emotional, assuming she cares about anything other than being popular.”

“True,” Daria admitted. “She’s always been an attention addict, and the attention she gets from boys just fuels her addiction.” Daria sighed. “Is there anything else? I’m out.” Daria actually pouted, which Jane thought was cute. “I’m hopeless, or at least in an endless rut.”

Jane thought she had best intervene. “Okay, you don’t really want more attention in general, right?”

“True, which rather limits the options,” Daria admitted.

Jane thought about her friend, and her changing expression was enough to get Daria’s attention.

Seeing Daria look at her, Jane asked, “Okay, consider three timeframes. Last spring, before you knew you were moving; what your life was like, what you were doing and feeling, and so on. Then the same for late last summer, when everything was up in the air. Finally, of course, now.”

“Okay.”

“How do they compare?”

“The summer was the worst,” Daria admitted. “Last spring, I had finally conditioned most people at the school to leave me the hell alone. I had helped one guy who had been stuck in ninth grade for two years in large part because of his ignored dyslexia and since he was one of the main thugs at the school, the others ignored me.”

Jane took a breath and Daria quickly interrupted, “No, neither Earl nor I had any feelings for each other. I helped him overcome some of his learning problems and gave him the odd alibi, he supplied me with bear spray and a bit of protection.” Daria grimaced. “It was also nice not having Quinn around at school for the year – I was mostly ignored, once most of the idiots were convinced by the bear spray, boots, or Earl to do so. The teachers, who were mostly on O’Neill’s level of competence or lower, either did the same or gave me a bit more leeway.” Daria decided not to mention her run-ins with the two town idiots.

“Then Mom said we would be moving, but any one of a number of places, as she interviewed, compared law firms, worked with Dad to decide what kind of business market he might tap into, what the housing markets were like – anything other than how Quinn or I might be affected.” She snorted slightly. “For once, Quinn’s whining and other antics were as ineffectual as my, well, to be honest pouting and silent treatment.”

Daria leaned forward, her head in her hands. Jane put her arm around her shoulders to reassure her. “You can’t imagine how much and how loudly Quinn whined that summer before things were decided!” Daria went on. “And that was before the battles over her packing, her wardrobe, the bribes to get her to downsize her outgrown clothing collection. Even Mom took time out to scold her and force her to do part of her own work, but only part of it. The rest I had to do, with Quinn bitching at me the whole time.”

“The competent are just assigned more work,” Jane pointed out.

“I suppose.”

Jane smiled slightly. “Granted, I probably hear you complain a lot more than most people – but at home, you must be the only non-squeaky wheel.” She smiled a bit more. “However, those stories and the poetry you mentioned might be considered warning lights, though.”

“True.”

Jane dropped her arm and turned to her friend, and took her shoulders in her hands to shift her into a face-to-face position. “I think opening up like this was a good start for you. So please, make at least one change.”

Seeing Daria’s slightly puzzled look, Jane went on, “Don’t shut me out, now that you’ve opened up a bit. If nothing else, don’t hold things in; vent to me. Even if that’s the only change you make, I think it’s a good one so keep it up. If it weren’t for Trent, I would have been as lonely as you ever were. Now, you’re my friend, my real, true, friend. Never think you can’t vent to me, or talk with me, about anything, even if you have to remind me before hand to be serious.”

Daria smiled very slightly. “I will if you will.”

“Deal.”

To Jane’s shock, Daria put her arm around Jane’s shoulder for a very brief hug.