Big dining hall. Classical music on air. Big wedding.

« You’re the lucky bride! Aren t you happy? »

Daria is looking thouroughly uncomfortble in her lace filled, crinoline filled, puffed up dress.

« Well… I chose the man… »

-oh, good. »

-But I didn t choose the place… »

-Sloane tradition. »

-I didn t choose the dress… »

-Sloane tradition. »

-I didn t choose the decoration, nor the music, nor the church, nor the freaking shoes, nor the haircut. »

-haha! Sloane tradition strickes again! »

-And I never met the majority of the guests. »

-Well… I did have to put on one of those posh looking vintage dresses for ya. »

-You don t have to drown in a gone with the wind type of costume. »

-Well… You signed, Scarlet. i can t save you. Dive in the petits fours if you can eat. Welcome to the upper class, darling. Oh, cute boy, three o clock. Excuse-me. »

Jane moves away. Daria is alone, in the middle of the very elegantly dressed crowd, sighing. Tom is passing by, in a perfect ivory tuxido :

« Honey? Are you OK? »

-Will it look elegant if I faint? »

-I told mom to keep it simple. »

-I know. It s on me she took revenge. »

-Hang in there. You ll only have to wear this till desert. Then, you ll have to be dressed comfortably for the first dance. »

-Hooray. »

-Come on. You didn t meet all of my uncles, yet. »

Daria is looking bored, and tired, and she’s starting to limp.

« Daria, meet uncle uncle Alaric and aunty Antonina. »

-Pleased to meet you. »

They look thin and quite snobbish.

-Likewise, my dear. What a wonderful hairstyle. »

-Thanks to all of that hairspray, my head won t fall off. I think. »

Tom is trying to be helpful :

-haha! Isn t she funny? »

Aunty Antonina, pinched lipped :

-Amusing. »

Now Daria is looking quite annoyed, quite tired, and she s limping sensibly more.

« Daria, meet aunty Anabelle and uncle Alexander. »

-Pleased to meet you. »

-We’re delighted to meet you too! And we must say we re pleasantly surprised, aren t we, darling?! »

-Oh, yes! Knowing our Thomas, God knows whom he might have ended up with! »

Tom is blushing.

-He could have ended with some hippie… »

-Or some starving artist… »

-Oh, yes, darling! Someone with an impossible haircut… »

Tom is trying to stop them.

-Actually… »

-Constantly looking for inspiration… »

-Daria s best friend is… »

-Among other kinds of pretexts to avoid working! »

They re having so much fun, that they don t realize Daria is getting angry.

-You mean : the kind of person who gives aesthetic value to elegant places such as this? My, my… I m really not his type of girl. I made a mistake. Where are the divorce papers? »

The uncle and aunt look at each other, puzzled, for a second. Then they burst out laughing :

« She s quite something, isn t she? »

-Excuse me. »

Daria storms off, limping heavily. Tom is trying to follow her.

« Daria, they don t mea… »

-It’s fine. »

-Are you sure? Because… »

-I m FINE! »

-But… »

-Get back to them. I need some privacy. »

-As… You wish. »

Daria leaves the dining hall. She s got to go through the thick crowd, looking as she s passing by. She s sweating in her crinoline dress, and her feet are killing her. She climbs marble steps with difficulty, and opens a door. She s in a beautiful suite. She locks the door, sits on the bed, pulls her shoes off, thows them accross the room, and lies down.

« The most beautiful freaking day… is it ever going to end? »

A soft knock on the door, as she s staring at the ceiling.

« I m ok. I need a moment, please. »

The person is still knocking.

« I m ok, I ll be right here. »

The person insists :

« Oh, FINE. »

Daria goes to the door, and unlocks it. She can t believe her eyes : an older version of Andrea in a black silked cocktail dress storms in :

« So, you finally ran away. These wedding dresses, they re a mean for the step family to haze the bride, don t you think? »

-Fresher initiated. »

-I saw you limping away. Let me guess… High heel shoes under your dress? »

-Over here. »

-Oh, they thought you d be walking gracefully all night in this? »

-That, or some kind of torture is compulsory in a proper traditional wedding. »

-I came to save you. I always carry extra pair of flat shoes in events such as these. »

-I thought i d go barefoot. »

-Screw the in-laws. If you must, so be it. »

The shoes seem to fit. Daria is relieved :

-Oh, fairy godmother, and now, what shall wee do about this sea of fabric? »

-Put your dance dress on. Screw the crinoline. »

-Done. GOD, I was dying! »

-Welcome. »

Andrea leaves the room to let her get changed. Daria looks at the door for a moment :

« wait… What was she doing here? »

A few hours later, in the dining hall. The first dance is ending. Tom wants to keep dancing with Daria, but she spotted Jane accross the dance floor, and she leaves brusquely.

Jane is having fun with two handsome men, who happen to be the Ruttheimer twins. Daria takes Jane s hand :

« She ll be right back. Stay here. »

Jane is not happy to be dragged accross the room like this. Daria joins aunt Anabelle and uncle Alexander, and bluntly says :

« Please, meet my best friend, Jane. A starving artist. »

-A… Starving artist? »

-Oh, I actually earn my living. I let the starving part for my older brother. »

-So, it… Runs within the family? »

-Yes, but behind our ethereal façade, we re still hungry capitalists. »

The uncle and aunt look at each other for a second, and again, burst out laughing:

-You got us, there! What a joke! She s so funny! »

Daria is upset. Jane bows:

-A pleasure to meet you. »

And pulls Daria away.

« Relax, Daria. Come and dance. Enjoy the money. »

-May I dance with the beautiful bride? » says a very familiar voice.

Daria and Jane turn around, wide eyed. Upchuck is standing there, right behind them. He s slightly taller, and with a better haircut. he s holding hands with Andrea.

« As a friend of the Sloane family, it was a wonderful surprise to see your maiden name on the invitation card, former miss Morgendorfer. »

-Hello, Up… hum… Charles. »

-Please, call me Chuck. Delighted to meet you too, beautiful Jane lane. No need to present you to my loving wife. »

Andrea shivers, shaking the memory off :

-They made me wear glitter. »

Jane clears her throat :

-Well, Up… Hum… Chuck. I can see Daria s in good hands. I ve got to go. There are twins waiting for me on the dance floor. »

-Two Ruttheimers for one lovely lady? Grrr… »

Daria looks at Andrea :

-Did you really marry him? »

-I like the freckles. »

-Oh, but at Lawdayle High, I had all the leasure to work on my killer seduction skills. »

Daria looks at Andrea, again :

-Would it be cruel to tell him he never had any? »

Chuck laughs :

-Grrrr… Feisty! »

The coolest girl on the planet is in my class. She ‘s got a psychic who’s pretty cool too, but she’s bad ass. If I weren’t an atheist, I’d throw offerings at her boots. I’m exagerating. But I mean : they’re intimidating, they’re not approachable, they cut people off. they rule.

So… What disturbed our jolly mister O’Neil’s fragile sensitivity, today? Oh. A theft at « alt lawndayle.com », the brand new cyber café. Halleluja. Seems the world is finally ending.

Everyone has got to express their feelings. Kevin’s turn. I picture miss Barch in my mind, yelling : « Shut up, Kevin! » love this woman. Jodie’s turn to peak up, when I hear :

« Oh, come on! »

Ah! Daria’s speaking.

« Come together with the planet? By staring at a screen for hours? Sitting in a room full of people you never say a word to? »

You tell them. Replace screen with board, and that’s called a classroom.

« Right here and now, let’s pledge to make Daria’s dream a reality! » goes the teacher. What did he have for breakfast? Fairydust?

« You mean : the ones where people walking down the streets burst into flames? »

Did Mr O Neil get this? No. he decides to do what he does best : turn whatever Daria says into an assognment, and ignore the sarcasm. That’s right! It seems we’ll be forced to help turn « alt lawndayle.com » into a coffehouse. Why just stick to virtual relationships? let’s pretend to communicate for real. Everyone is told to participate. Daria intends to resist. Jane looks at Mr O Neil like : « Na. I won’t even pretend to give a shit. » I just slip out of the classroom. Hopefully, he’ll forget I exist.

O Neil? Froget one of his beloved students for one of his exciting new projects? What was I thinking? I slip in the corridors like a ghost, i hide in the corners, but he still manages to catch me before lunch :

« Andrea! »

Damn you, and your perky voice. I might have to worry he’s the Devil himself come to my school, because i keep telling ma jesus freak parents worship him. Come to punish me… because of course, I don t worship imaginary entities. Still, as I listen to this Julie Andrews in a teacher’s suit trying to convince me to join the party, i picture him with horn. That would make sense, wouldnt’ it?

Ok, it’s lunch time. Means i’m hungry. means i’ve got to stop this conversation – aka monologue – now. Where do i begin? :

« Well… »

– WONDERFUL! »

Oh, that’s gotta be the pixie dust again! I didn’t say anything!

« I’ve been thinking you could read us one of your dark poems. »

-I think you’re the Devil. »

-Metaphysical? Good! Thank you, Andrea! That would be amazing! »

Off he goes. I need tot drink

Read? In front of everyone? One of my poems? how do i get out of this? Thanks god, Daria and Jane will probably be away, chilling and making fun of eveyone else. I wouldn’t want them to see me on that stupid stage. I d be mortified! Imagine! Toying with my smashed potatoes, i start to think. No way, man! My poems are personal? Plus, what tone would best befit such a brainless highschool public? Violent, or depressing?

Talking about brainless, Tiffany and kevin are passing by:

« Oh, KEvy! We will be such a HOT Romeo and Juliet couple at the opening of that COffeehouse… Or something. »

-Sure, babe. »

-Oh, my Romeo! »

And if i knocked on your heads, the sound would be hollow. This is hopeless. Oh, well. Depressing. Bingo. I’m in the mood for a poem:

Shapes in a uniform, seemingly fresh

Bones underneath. Bones that do not rest

Now, Ruttheimer is passing by. He’s trying to hit on yet another girl. And failing. Am I really the only one who likes the freckles? Weird. The boy has got something. More than two words of vocabulary, for starters. Well… he does sound like a perv. And his lines are cheesy. But it’s an artistic level of cheese, so if he gave me a try, i would take his virginity. Maybe. but Mr Freckles doesn’t seem to notice me. And since he does notice pretty much eveyone else, that’s upsetting.

Oh, my heart! I feel it breaking!

But has it ever been beating?

By your hollow, empty chest

I’m here, but are you?

Sure, I see your body.

Anybody home, in that rotten bag of flesh?

D day is at hand, and i see Daria and Jane in the coffeehouse. What are they doing here? I should kill myself before having to do this. Except i m not suicidal enough to wanna die, actually. Coffeehouse, my ass. This time, i really need a drink.

After Kevin and Tiffany are done butchering Romeo and Juliet s balcony scene, it’s my turn to die of shame, shile my classmates stoically watch my agony. If there was such a thing as life after death, i would deserve my place at valhalla, at least. The problem is : there is no scientific evidence dying of shame is a real thing. Sigh. Let’s pretend they’re all in their underwear, and daria and jane have just been abducted by aliens.

Shapes in a uniform, seemingly fresh…

Tell scientists that unfortunately, shame doesn’t kill.

Wait… Is Daria on stage?! No way! O’Neil’s evil work. maybe, i should consider some serious Devil worship.

Daria is reading a gruesome spy story, full of expensive costumes, and brutal murders of evil communists. By the end, everyone’s thrilled. She might have created vocations; I think she’s starting a cult. Ok, Daria. i m in. What do we do? Kill communists? If the people around me weren’t really stupid, i wouldn’t be slightly worried. I’ve got to get out of here.

As i move towards the excit, i hear Brittany yell at Kevin because he forgot his shakespeare lines. but, i mean… kevin…

As i almost reach the excit, a fence of uniforms is in my way. They try to understand Daria’s story:

« So, she killed him. »

-And the other guy too. »

-The guy she’s been with? »

-Yeah »

-He was a communist as well? »

-Yeah! »

-But he was wearing an armany shirt! »

-They’re everywhere! »

-yeah! »

-Communists suck! »

-Yeah! »

-Let’s stone the russian embassy »

I say rolling my eyes as i push through the excit.

Here we are, at this stupid medieval fair, trying to escape to Upchuck, once more.

I guess we were too optimistic on that wheel, thinking we would finally get some damn peace, when LO AND BEHOLD! Here comes this girl running toward us, in tears. Oh me, oh my. She can’t join us. She’s absolutely not bursting into tears, and whinning indescribable words to get into the wheel with us. COME ON! I roll my eyes, and look at Jane.

She tries to negociate with the wheel guy : « NO ! WAIT! WE ARE HUMAN BEINGS! »

But the guy just wants to get rid of the scary girl with the running mascara, so negociation doesn’t work. And now… What’s her name, already? She’s one of the fashion club hellhounds, I think. Gracie… Tracy… I think those are words that come out of her mouth, but all we can hear is :

« Squeek! Squeek! Squeek! HEEEEEEEEEE! »

I tell Jane : « Well… I think she can’t see us. She’s in her own world. » Jane has her wicked smile:

-Then, she needs to change drugs. »

-Squeek! Squeek! Mumblemumble BREEEEEEEEET! » goes the mascara river monster.

-It’s a boy problem. » Jane and I try to guess:

-He dumped her. »

-For another girls. »

-For one of her friends. »

-And he didn’t even call back. »

-YEEEEEEEES! »

I think she’s trying to soud human:

« Mumblemuble one date… Mumblemumble call… And… HEEEE… WHOHOHOHOOOOO! »

-What was so interesting about this Bret anyway? »

-You’re encouraging her, Jane. »

-I wanna know! »

-Well… Mumblemumble popular… Mumblemumble TOO popular… Cuz mumblemumble Sandy said… »

-So… He was up to the fashion club’s standards. »

-Ye-eeees… »

-You’re such romantics, you. » concludes Jane. You don’t say.

I look at Jane. She’s also starting to have a headache. Someone’s gonna have to tell this girl… Oh, well… Stick on that wheel… That’s gonna be me, again :

« Listen : you were out with this guy because he seemed to fit your standards, anyway. But he let you down. So maybe, he didn’t. »

The sobbing stops for a second. I think I made a point.

« Nice one. » says Jane.

-Ye-eees. B-But… HEEEEE! WHOHOHOHOOOO! »

-But you wish he told you what went wrong in the first place. »

-Squeek! »

OK, then ASK THE BOY! » Jane is beginning to be frustrated.

-But… Mumblemumble Quinn says… Mumblemumble and Tiffany says… Mumblemumble… And SANDY says… »

-Who CARES what they say, damn it! You need to know, you ask the boy! »

She looks like we’re finally starting to make sense:

« Well… My assertiveness trainer, he says I should speak for myself. »

-DAMN RIGHT, he is! »

-He also says I should not be afraid to share my intererests. »

-He’s very wise. »

We keep encourraging her. The squeeking stopped. That’s what matters.

« I like painting and scuplting. » goes Jane.

-And I like cynical political books. »

-And I don’t read her weird stuff, but we really get along, because we watch sick sad world. »

-And we enjoy pizza. »

-Pizza’s nice. »

-Definately. »

-See? We can be ouselves, AND be friends. Share interests, even if we don’t share SHARE everything. »

-Well… I’d like to have a pet. A little doggie, or a little kitty, or a little birdy, or a little mouse, they’re sooooo cute. And Sandi says that pets are filthy, but still. And mum, she doesn’t want me to have pets, so I have little glass figurines. »

-That’s nice. »

Is it me, or Jane sounds totally paternalistic?

« And I like magic. Like… Making bunnies disappear, and stuff. I wonder how they do it. And Sandy says it’s for babies. »

-Who cares about Sandy? »

Miss Squeek seems happy to hear this.

« And I like ice skating, really really fast. And i think, when I ll drive, I will have a really really fast car… Or something… Like… A pretty car… But fast… But pretty… I think. »

-Oookkaaay. »

-I’ll ask mom if she can buy me lavender oil. Because it would help me get over Bret. And call him, maybe… I should call him, right? Like you said… Right? »

-Thaaat would be nice. »

There’s a few quiet minutes. She barely dares to ask:

« But… You’re Quinn’s exchange student, or cousin, or whatever… »

-They got her in a pet store. »

-They wanted a goldfish, but I was sold at a reasonable price. »

-Hun?! Well… Isn’t Quinn sooo pretty, and she’s so cool, and she’s soo smart, like she could even help you with… »

-Being a brain? »

-Yeah! And… She’s my best friend in the fashion club. Like… It’s her, and then Tiffany, and THEN Stancy, or her, and then Stacy, and then Tiffany. But Quinn is ALWAYS first. »

-OK. »

-B-But… I don’t have bouncy hair like her, and I’m not as popular, and now… I don’t have… A booooyfrieeeeeend… Snifflesniffles… »

Oh my, is she gonna cry again?

« That’s OK, be strong. Spit it out. » says Jane.

-Well… Do you think that Quinn still likes me? She’s MY friend, and all, and I really wanna keep being hers… »

-I you lost her friendship because of some random guy you went out with, she wouldn’t be such a good friend anyway, would she? But you’re still popular, AND you’re still in the fashion club. »

-That’s true. Oh my God, you’re sooo smart, Quinn’s cousin! »

-You shouldn’t worry. As long as you’re fashionable, she’ll hang out with you. »

-Thank you! »

We can tell it’s a big thing off her chest. Oh, wait. What else has she got to share?

« And… You know… I also read, and stuff… And I’ve got this book about Margaux Hemingway, and she was a model… And she died tragically, and all… And Sandy says it’s too gloomy, bu I like it… And I think you’d like it too… Right? Right? Because you like to read? » That was aimed directly at me.

-Hold on there, Misery Chick. » whispers Jane between her teeth.

The wheel is slowing down. It will soon be the end of this.

« You know, » says Miss Squeek:

-You two are really nice. Too bad you dress so badly. You should come to the fashion club. Sandy always says we should help the less fortunate. We wonldn’t mind helping. »

The wheel stops. As we get,down, ready to run, miss Squeek goes :

« So… You really think I should call him? »

-Oh yes. » says Jane.

-Or there could be a murder. » I say.

The girl nods in thankfulness, and darts off. Finally!

My best friend Daria, in our favorite pizza place! Thinner ans paler, but still alive!

« Yo! »

-Hello. »

-What’s up with your school of super geniusses? »

-You mean : with my school of sometimes very knowledgable super jerks? »

-I’m glad you’re not changing, Daria. Hanging around brains like you might have made you popular. »

-God forbid! That’s why i changed strategies : i get lower grades, and refuse to drive myself crazy studying. »

-What happened to your : Oh hell, i’m going to Grove Hills as a part of my master plan to conquer the universe spirit? »

-It melted down when i discovered that a fair number of Grove Hill’s students have a mental breakdown, and i refused to let this happen to me. »

-Good point. »

-Jodie and I swore we would keep our sanity before applying. By the way : that makes me think… »

Daria reaches out for her phone and dials a number :

« Jodie landon! Nap time! Now! Yes, i’ll wake you up, in say thirty minutes… I know we ve got this important essay… Yes, you will do just fine as usual… No, you can t study for five more minutes… We made a bargain, Jodie, remember? I promised to tell you when you were becoming over the top? You are now. I’m doing this for your own good, so get your freaking rest, and i mean it!… Whatever. You’ll thank me in thirty minutes. »

She hangs up. Dials another number:

« Excuse me, i’ve got to do this. »

Someone seems to pick up.

« Hello, Elsie? Could you please go to Jodies and make sure she has her nap… I know we’ve got this essay, but i m home for the week-end. i’ll study on my way back to Grove Hills… Even if Graham had a better grade than me now, that wouldn’t change my being overall better than this jerk… I don’t care what he’s going to say… You sound exhausted, Elsie. You should rest after checking out on Jodie… I know. Someone’s gotta be the nap police. »

She hangs up again :

« All yours now. Sorry about this. »

-waw. »

-You’ve got no idea. »

-Tell me more, mister officer, i mean… Ma’am! »

-Well… You know how i decided to go to a real good school in order to fullfil my somewhat vague ambitions? »

-Yeah. Hence your applying. »

-And i ended up hanging around snotty, overstressed workaholics? »

-Sounds like Grove Hills to me. »

-Well… It’s actually a cult. You work overnight, you never go out of the library, you eat Grove Hills, think Grove Hills, sleep Grove Hills… »

-I thought you weren’t allowed to sleep. »

-You are if you dream of homework. »

-What a fun place! and yet, you are here. »

-Precisely. i decided to resist the pressure. To have my limits. If i don’t get out of this place and hang around normal people from time to time, i’ll go crazy. »

-Normal?! You wound me! »

-It’s good to see you. The pressure gets on everybody’s nerves. Jodie… well… you know her. She’s ranked first of the class, AND she’s volonteered to help the slower students. I’ve constantly got to force her out of her books. She looks like a zombie. Sometimes, i catch myself studying on the verge of exhaustion because EVERYONE is doing it. »

-My my… »

-But i’ve got tricks. When i’m being looked down upon by a teacher or a student and i’m about to collapse, i think about what Trent would do. »

-Nap. »

-Life savior. Exactly. »

Pizza’s finished.

« Wanna go to my place? » i offer

-Sure. »

I can’t wait to show her my new artwork. God i missed her! She’s sitting by the bed with a smile:

« So… How’s good ol’ Lawndayle High doing? »

-The usual routine. But there’s this : we had to volonteer, and i gave art lessons to children. »

-Sounds like fun. »

-It was. Kevin and Brittany were sent to read in a nursery home. »

-Poor old people! »

-I know! Brittany must have caused many a heart attack with her brutal voice inflections. »

-Crime unsolved. The killer’still running… »

-Haha! And you know i had to help organize this party. worst part is : Upchuck was the DJ, and i almost fell for his cousins. »

-Was it that boring? »

-Deadly. They seemed alright, tough. I was bored out of my senses, i think. »

I fall quiet. Why do i feel so nervous? It’s not like i did anything wrong. Anyway, it’s no big deal. I had to have a social life, after all.

« Well… And i met this really cute boy, Evan. Actually, he turned out to be a jerk. Anyway, he made me join the track team. »

-The track team? »

She’s confused. that’s what i kind of feared.

« Surprise! I happen to be a little more… Popular, now. »

-Aaas long as it makes you happy… »

I sigh. I am successful, and this popularity thing isn’t so bad. But happy… I can’t tell, without Daria.

« It’s got its perks, and it’s drawbacks. For instance, because of the training sessions, i’ve got less time to create, and that bugs me. »

-Jane, that’s too bad! You’re too good an artist to let the track team take over! »

-I know… »

-i mean : good for you if you enjoy running, but art is your thing. »

-I know. The second inconvenient is I sometimes know exactly how Mack feels about Kevin… »

-Bummer. »

I can hear Trent’s footsteps in the corridor. It’s been a while since he’s been peeking into my room. Well… I do spend much more time running. He opens the door :

« Oh, hey, Daria. »

-Hey, Trent. »

-Nice to see you here. Janie really needs sensible friends, these days. She’s lost her way. »

He darts off. I turn to Daria :

« And there’s this. »

She sighs :

« Listen : i’m happy to hear you’re running if you enjoy it. »

-Thanks. But…? »

-But you know you can’t let this get in the way of your creativity. »

-I know. »

-Even if they’re putting pressure on you. »

-I’m not under pressure. »

My phone is ringing. I’ve got to pick it up. It’s Evan:

« Yo. »

-Hello, Jane. i don’t see you at training. »

-Oh, there was training this week-end? That’s too bad. I can’t come : my friend Daria’s here. »

-You can’t be serious! jane, you need to come now! the final’s… »

-i know when it is! But I’m telling you : i’m not coming! I’ll see you at training during the week. Now, for once, will you let me rest with my friend on a week-end?! Will you do that for me?! »

I hang up. Daria nods :

« I’m glad to see you’re not under pressure. »

-Oh, shut up. »

So annoying. My girl is right. I am under pressure. Right now, i just don’t feel like admitting it out loud. Daria smiles :

« As long as we both know i’m right. »