DARIA: Nine-Eleven and Counting

Part One: Don't Know When I'll Be Back Again


Text ©2002 Roger E. Moore (roger70129@aol.com)
Daria and associated characters are ©2002 MTV Networks
Lyrics from Kid Rock's "Fist of Rage" ©1998 Atlantic Recording Corporation.

Manuscript corrected/updated 4/25/2002

Feedback (good, bad, indifferent, whatever) is appreciated. Please write to:
roger70129@aol.com

Author's Note: This is the first part of a three-part manuscript. The manuscript assumes
that the "Daria" episode "Is it College Yet?", broadcast on MTV in January 2002, shows
events that took place in late spring 2001. Daria and Jane enter separate but nearby
colleges in Boston in August 2001, a considerable distance from Lawndale. "Daria: Nine-
Eleven and Counting" details Daria's entry into college and the twenty-first century.

Special thanks to Kara Wild and Martin J. Pollard for their helpful commentary.

Warning: Manuscript contains graphic language.

INT = Interior scene
EXT = Exterior scene
VO = Voice over (off screen)


INT: SEPTEMBER 11, 2001, EARLY MORNING, DARIA'S DORM ROOM AT
RAFT COLLEGE, BOSTON

A digital alarm clock in semidarkness shows it is 5:29 a.m. Daria Morgendorffer's dark,
round-frame glasses are next to the alarm, on top of a book on the bedside table. The
clock clicks to 5:30 a.m., and music plays loudly (a boy band like N-Sync). A pale hand
reaches over from off-screen and fumbles with the alarm, knocking the glasses to the
floor and accidentally turning the volume up louder.

DARIA [VO, groggy]: Shit.
QUINN [VO]: Oh, I like that song.

The pale hand, trying harder to shut the radio off, accidentally knocks the radio to the
floor.

DARIA [VO]: Damn it!
QUINN [VO]: Here, I got it.

The radio volume decreases greatly but remains at the same station, same song.

DARIA [VO]: Did you change the station? It was on classical.

A pale hand from the opposite side of the screen puts the radio back on the table, then
disappears.

QUINN [VO]: Well, I didn't want to wake up to dead people's music. This stuff gets you
going.
DARIA [VO]: My glasses.
QUINN [VO]: Here, I--
BOTH DARIA AND QUINN [VO, loudly]: Ow!
DARIA [VO]: DAB id!
QUINN [VO]: Well, I didn't know you were reaching for them, too!
DARIA [VO]: Aw, by dose!
QUINN [VO]: Hold on. Wait. Just a sec.

After a pause, a light comes on. Sounds of movement nearby.

QUINN [VO]: Let me see. Oh, you're okay, you big baby. It's not bleeding. Sort of red,
though.

Pause.

DARIA [VO, flat affect, resigned tone]: Good bordig, Quid.
QUINN [VO, cheery]: Good morning, Daria! BRB--I'm off to the shower!

Sound of retreating footsteps, door opening and slamming shut.

DARIA [VO]: Do bore hours. Juz do bore hours. God, gib be sdregth.


EXT. EARLY MORNING, OUTSIDE DARIA'S DORM, RAFT COLLEGE CAMPUS

It is a perfect predawn mid-September morning along the New England coast, under a
near cloudless sky. A large sign identifies the dormitory as the Rebecca Towne Nurse
Housing Unit, Raft College, Boston. Daria and her younger sister Quinn, who look
almost exactly as they did in high school, stand on the curb outside the dorm. (Quinn now
has sandals with painted toenails.) Two large suitcases and a backpack sit on the sidewalk
next to Quinn. Daria gently touches her nose.

QUINN: That car coming, is that Jane's?
DARIA: [squinting] I can't--

A flame-red car loudly squeals to stop in front of the girls.

DARIA: Yes.

Female voices yell from upper-story dorm windows ("Damn it, we're trying to sleep up
here!"). Jane Lane gets out of the car. She looks as she did when living in Lawndale, but
now wears a blue silk scarf, too.

JANE: Sorry I'm late. I had to get gas. And I didn't get my hash browns at the drive-
through so I had to go back twice more before--
QUINN: Wow! This is your car?
JANE: It might be. Don't tell my parole officer.

All put Quinn's bags in the trunk.

DARIA: [aside to Jane] I owe you for this.
JANE: Forget it. It was either this or sleep.
QUINN: Oh, no! I forgot my laptop!
DARIA: [groans and fishes her dorm room key from a pocket] Hurry.
QUINN: [takes key] Okay!

Quinn runs off into the dorm.

DARIA: [not too loudly] And if you see your brain, bring that, too.
JANE: When'd she get here? She miss you, or what?
DARIA: She flew in Thursday for some kind of national school conference on student
alcoholism and drug abuse in town, and she stayed with me over the weekend. The
conference ended yesterday. I kept her staked outside on a leash at night, but she slipped
her collar.
JANE: Big fun?
DARIA: Oh, yes, the biggest. I gave her the full tour, showed her where everyone has
outdoor sex, all the fraternities to avoid. And I have a damn paper due today, and I'm
only a third through it. Couldn't work on anything the whole weekend.
JANE: Daria, listen, I can drive her to the airport. Why don't you go back to work on
your stuff? I can handle this.
DARIA: No, I promised I'd see her off. It's the big sister thing.
JANE: That's sweet. It's not like you, but it's sweet.
DARIA: [spreads arms] Hey, she had a gun! What could I do?
JANE: [sighs] Kids today learn so quickly. So, how exactly did your weekend go?
DARIA: Well--

Quinn reappears, running with her laptop clutched in her arms.

DARIA: --well. Later.
JANE: Sure.

All three get into Jane's car and reach for shoulder harnesses to buckle in.

JANE: Sorry about all the cans and burger bags and pizza boxes on the floor back there.
QUINN: Oh, that's fine. It's just like my room at home.


INT: JANE'S CAR, DRIVING THROUGH BOSTON IN EARLY MORNING

JANE: [pulling away from curb] So, Quinn, how was your conference?

No answer. Jane looks in the rearview mirror and sees that Quinn has put on earphones
for her CD player and is bobbing her head to a faintly heard boy-band song.

JANE: [imitating Quinn] Why, it was great, thank you for asking! Daria put me on a
leash outside, but I escaped and ran aaaaaaaall over the neighborhood!
DARIA: [turns around and sees that Quinn cannot hear anything] Oh. Figures.
JANE: What's your paper on?
DARIA: The one-third-done paper? The Internet versus television--which one does the
most damage to the viewer or user by misleading his/her perceptions of reality.
JANE: And the answer is--?
DARIA: They both suck.
JANE: Okay, but does one suck more than the other?
DARIA: They just suck.
JANE: Do you recommend an alternative?
DARIA: If you hit someone with a rock, the message is clear and not subject to
misinterpretation or spin.
JANE: What class is this for?
DARIA: [takes a deep breath] Postmodern English-Language Global Communication
Networks.
JANE: [pause, shakes head] Okay, I can't think of a comeback for that.
DARIA: If you do, call me at once.
JANE: Is it relevant?
DARIA: [snorts] To what?
JANE: [shrugs] Never mind. [pause] So.

Jane peers in the rearview mirror. At the same moment, Daria looks back over her left
shoulder. Quinn is slumped in the rear seat, sound asleep, with her earphones on high
volume to the boy-band song on the CD player in her lap.

DARIA: [facing forward again] So.
JANE: So.
DARIA: Good to see you.
JANE: You, too. You haven't changed much since last weekend. A little more gray hair,
maybe.
DARIA: I really owe you for this.
JANE: [waves it away] Whatever. Pretty day for a Tuesday, you think? How's life with
you? I mean really?
DARIA: [sighs] You first. [looks at Jane, smiles faintly] You gettin' any?
JANE: Gettin' any? Am I, Jane the Human Sexual Dynamo Lane, gettin' any? Man, I've
had to put up police barricades to keep all the guys in line. I wore out three mattresses
just this week. Day and night, night and day--
DARIA: Nothing's happening with me, either.
JANE: [grins] You hear from Tom?
DARIA: [pause, smile vanishes, looks down] Yeah.
JANE: [glances at Daria] And--?
DARIA: I sent him some e-mails. [pause] I just wanted to see how he was doing. He
finally wrote back a couple days ago and said he'd met someone else. We're still friends,
but he won't be dropping by anytime soon.
JANE: He met--
DARIA: [tries to wave it off, irritated look] We broke up long ago. It's not like it's
anything big. We weren't right for each other, anyway. Apples and oranges.
JANE: Wouldn't he be more like a banana?
DARIA: [no sense of humor] Whatever. It's over. Over over.
JANE: I have some sour grapes in my bag if you want some.
DARIA: It was for the best. I shouldn't have bothered him.
JANE: [reflecting] You were thinking that maybe he--
DARIA: No, I wasn't thinking. That was the problem.

Jane forms her mouth into a soundless "o." Pause.

JANE: Trent's available.
DARIA: [agonized look at Jane] Oh, please!
JANE: [smiles again] Zing! So, tell me, does anyone look interesting on campus?
DARIA: A guy I met in the library asked me if I slept with my glasses on.
JANE: I meant interesting, but not in the Chinese sense of being cursed.
DARIA: A bunch of guys in one of the fraternity houses yelled that they wanted to see
my tits. They offered me beer. I flipped them off, and that cheered them up loads.
JANE: [smile gone] Uh--
DARIA: The guy who sits in front of me in Creative Writing said he had a gallon of
orange vodka in his room, all the way from Russia, and would I like to finish it off with
him sometime.
JANE: [clears throat] Uh, yeah, how's your roommate, what's-her-name, Jennifer, the
one you told me about last week?
DARIA: She threw up in my car Friday night when I was taking her to the emergency
room for alcohol poisoning. That's the reason I called you last night about driving us to
the airport. I won't get the car back from the shop until Friday. There's a lot of throwing
up in cars going around. Must be something in the bourbon.
JANE: [stricken look] Is she all right? Jennifer?
DARIA: They pumped her stomach. She should be back in class tomorrow. [pause]
Quinn helped a lot. She did, really. She said she has a friend like that and doesn't know
what to do about it.
JANE: I think I heard her mention it once. Someone she met on that hostessing job she
had? What was it, Lindsey?
DARIA: Lindy, yeah. She told me about her before school let out. Quinn was going to
talk to her about getting help, but I don't know what came of it.
JANE: How are you getting along with Jennifer?
DARIA: I'm moving out as soon as I can find anyone who will rent me a closet to sleep
in. I won't be picky.
JANE: Can you talk to her about this problem?
DARIA: She doesn't have a problem. She told me that last Wednesday morning after she
got back from a party and threw up in her bed and slept in it.
JANE: [looking very queasy] Jeez, I wish you hadn't said that after I've been to Burger
Baron for breakfast.
DARIA: Oh. Sorry. Wasn't thinking again.

Both pause to see if Quinn is still asleep. She is.

DARIA: You remember a long time ago when I told you that high school was exactly
like Dante's Inferno?
JANE: That was three weeks ago, just before we got here.
DARIA: I was wrong. High school is the antechamber to Hell. It's the dark forest that
you wander through just before you find the infernal gates. High school had structure in
the form of parents, sort of like Virgil walking along with you until he drops you off at
the Hell's mouth. There's no structure here, though, except for classes. Everyone's a wild
animal, roaming around doing the Darwin thing, only the strongest and smartest are at the
bottom of the food chain. No one has any direction. No one's got a clue. It's stupidity to
the googolplex power. Precambrian slime posing as humanity.
JANE: [glances at Daria] Zero to any power is still zero. I mean, this is sort of what we'd
expected, isn't it?
DARIA: [her buttons pushed] We're three weeks into classes, and all anyone talks about
is partying. What they were drinking, who they were sleeping with, how many times they
puk--oh, sorry, forget that part. The only good thing is that everyone thinks I'm a boring
asshole and most of them leave me alone.
JANE: That's . . . uh . . . good.
DARIA: [restless] Tell me about Boston Fine Arts. Please.
JANE: Oh, well, my lucky streak continues. [ticks off points with fingers of right hand]
First, you help me get into BFAC [pronounces this as "bee-fak"], then some freshmen
drop out and the school likes my portfolio, so they advance me into the fall semester
instead of the spring, then someone else drops out and I get his first-year scholarship, and
now, NOW, I get into that filled-up Figure Drawing class after someone else drops it.
That promises to be an interesting class. I have it today at one.
DARIA: Figure drawing, like in, um--
JANE: [quite animated] Naked men. Some women, too, yeah, but naked men for sure.
Yeah.

Daria looks right at Jane and waits for more. Jane says nothing, just stares into space
while driving.

DARIA: And--?
JANE: [starts to smile] And what?
DARIA: And?
JANE: And they're naked. You know. No clothes on.
DARIA: [insistent, louder] And?
JANE: Well, okay, a couple of them, the guys, they look good. One's a real hottie. Got a
little warm looking at him. There's a use for jocks after all. They sure keep fit. [blows out
a puff of air] Woof.
DARIA: [smiling now] You haven't taken any artistic license with them?
JANE: Ah, well, now that you mention it, I was thinking of, um--one of them is kind of
funny. Really funny funny. He's in business, from Raft actually, a sophomore, I think. He
works out a lot. He's a runner. I don't know that he'd be much for conversation, but I'd
thought about a, um, private session one evening, some oils--for oil painting, I mean,
something on canvas--you know. [smiling, can't stop it] You know!
DARIA: [shakes head, looks away] Not from any personal experience, but my
imagination is working fine.
JANE: Well, that's what they're there for, right? Guys?
DARIA: [smile fading] Maybe I should get out more. I just don't know when or how.
I've got so much work.
JANE: You've got to make a little time for it. You were the one who chose nineteen
credit hours, not me.
DARIA: You should have slapped me.
JANE: I almost did. I probably still should.

Daria nods, her smile gone. She glances back; Quinn is still asleep.

DARIA: You know what pisses me off the most?
JANE: [giving Daria a long stare before looking back at the highway] Is this a trick
question?
DARIA: I thought I was coming to college to learn about reality.
JANE: [coughs to suppress sudden laughter] I see.
DARIA: I wasn't thinking, I guess. It's like swimming up the rapids. I seem to get farther
from reality all the time. Do you feel like that?
JANE: I'm an artist, Daria. I don't have anything to do with reality.
DARIA: I want to write, but I'll starve to death before I get anything published and made
into a movie for a six-figure contract. Or even twenty bucks in a poetry magazine.
JANE: There's always a place for you in the food-service sector.
DARIA: [depressed] That . . . that might be the case.
JANE: Want me to read something you're working on?
DARIA: [looks uncomfortable] Maybe. I can e-mail it to you.
JANE: Do that. See if you can get the campus paper to print an op-ed piece.
DARIA: [snorts] I tried that. The editor called me a fascist Nazi bitch.
JANE: [stunned look] No fucking way!
DARIA: She said I had talent, though. It wasn't much and it was wasted, but I had it.
JANE: Oh, jeez, you're kidding me!
DARIA: I wish. Maybe she was right.
JANE: [reprovingly] Daria!

Daria sighs. They drive in silence. Jane still shakes her head in amazement.

DARIA: [pointing] That's the airport exit, the next one.
JANE: Uh-huh.
DARIA: [takes a deep breath, low voice] Jane, I want to talk to you about something.
JANE: [glances at Daria, puzzled] Okay.

Daria checks on the sleeping Quinn.

DARIA: About Tom.
JANE: [apprehensive] Oooooh-kay.
DARIA: [pause] I'm sorry.
JANE: [pause] I, uh, think we've gotten beyond that. That was over a year ago.
DARIA: It wasn't worth it. Losing you. I almost lost you.

Jane is about to say something, but stops and waits.

DARIA: [looks out side window] I really regret that now. I wish I'd never done it, gone
out with him.
JANE: [softly] Daria, really, that--
DARIA: I wasn't thinking.
JANE: [sharper] Daria, stop it!

Both glance back and see Quinn still asleep, her mouth open.

JANE: [softly] You didn't lose me! It's all right. It wasn't important!

Pause. Neither looks at the other.

JANE: Well, it wasn't THAT important. Forget it. Please. Get past it. I did. Besides, if
memory serves me, I dumped you for months before then so I could go out with Tom,
and why in the hell are we even talking about this? Damn, just drop it!
DARIA: [looks down at her hands, softly] I don't want to lose you.
JANE: [swallows] You won't.

Jane puts her right hand out, and Daria automatically takes it with her left. They give
each other's hand a hard, long squeeze, then let go so Jane can drive again.

JANE: [very low voice] You must have had a really bad time this weekend.
DARIA: It--it wasn't that bad. Quinn was all right. It's not her. I'm just nervous about
everything: papers, classes, my future life, the fate of human civilization and the Earth,
little crap like that.
JANE: You need to get out more.
DARIA: [plays with fingers] Can't. I've got--there's just no time. Everyone else here gets
as shitfaced as B-movie zombies, like it doesn't matter what they do. They've got plenty
of time. They're immortal.
JANE: We're all immortal, at least those of us who haven't died yet. You're immortal.
DARIA: Right, and Bill Clinton's going to fly out of my ass.

Jane laughs, then coughs and can't stop laughing and coughing. She struggles to drive at
the same time.

QUINN: [waking up, very groggy] Whaaaaaat?
DARIA: Never mind. Jane, there--we have to take the exit. The exit!

Jane tries to speak but is still laughing and coughing at the same time, so nothing
intelligible comes out.


EXT: TERMINAL OF BOSTON'S LOGAN AIRPORT, DEPARTURES DROP-OFF

Jane's red car pulls into Boston's Logan Airport and heads for the terminal's departures
drop-off. She finds a temporary parking spot by the doors. Quinn and Daria quickly get
out and pull Quinn's luggage out of the trunk.

DARIA: [struggling with a heavy suitcase] Next time, you don't have to bring every
cosmetic you own. The ones in the lead jars are the worst.
QUINN: I really appreciate you letting me stay with you. And I'm sorry about your nose
this morning. It looks okay now. Not so red. A little swollen, maybe.
DARIA: I'll spring for a hotel room next time you come by.
QUINN: Oh, no. I'd rather be with you. [impulsively hugs Daria, who is startled and
drops the suitcase] I love you! You're a great sister!
DARIA: What--?
QUINN: [kisses Daria on cheek] Thanks for everything. I'll mail your comb and brush
back later.
DARIA: No, please keep them! It's okay!
QUINN: [lets go of Daria] Bye, Jane! Thanks! I like your car! And your scarf! That's a
good color for you! You look lots better that way!
DARIA: You'd better go. Your flight leaves about eight.
QUINN: Oh, silly, check-in isn't going to take long. I've got almost thirty minutes to
shop!
DARIA: At an airport? For what?
QUINN: Oh! Almost forgot! [pulls slip of paper from pants pocket] Listen, here's my
cell phone number.
DARIA: I think you gave me that already. Twice.
QUINN: Well, once more won't hurt. Tuck that away somewhere.
DARIA: [resigned] Sure, why not. [tucks slip of paper into jacket pocket]
QUINN: Bye, Daria! Love you! [waves, struggles to pull wheeled luggage on straps
behind her]
DARIA: [waves] Bye! See you in . . . some other time!
QUINN: Bye!
DARIA: Bye.
QUINN: Bye!
DARIA: [waves weakly] Yeah, bye.
QUINN: Bye!

Quinn goes into the terminal. Daria watches her go, then gets back in the car and flops
back into the passenger seat in exhaustion, her eyes closed.

DARIA: Step on it. She might come back.
JANE: [fake Scottish accent] Aye, cap'in, but I dinna know if th' engines can take it!

Jane guns the engine, and the car pulls away from the curb with squealing tires.


INT: JANE'S CAR, AN HOUR LATER, AT DRIVE-THROUGH FAST-FOOD
WINDOW, BOSTON

JANE: [takes large sip from her milkshake straw] Tell me this doesn't make up for the
traffic jam.
DARIA: [putting straw into large milkshake] I swore I was never going to eat at one of
these places.
JANE: [puts drink in her lap as she pulls away from drive-through window] When was
this? We've always eaten at places like this.
DARIA: I made twenty resolutions my first day on campus. That was number one.
JANE: What about the other resolutions?
DARIA: I've got two left.
JANE: They are--?
DARIA: Don't date anyone who drinks, smokes, shoots up, carries a gun, or is in love
with his farts.
JANE: And the other?
DARIA: [frowns] I don't remember. Doesn't matter, I've probably broken it today
already.
JANE: Quinn bring any interesting news from home? Aside from the school stuff, I
mean.
DARIA: Oh, yeah. My room's been converted into a guest bedroom. Everything I didn't
take with me is in boxes in the basement next to the sump pump.
JANE: Trent says my room is exactly as I left it. Sort of like a shrine.
DARIA: Do they leave offerings in it?
JANE: Probably nothing I want to pick up without rubber gloves on.
DARIA: Want to come by my room and sit a while? You've got hours until the Naked
Lunch.
JANE: Sure. Uh, what about the, uh, your roommate's bed, you know?
DARIA: What? Oh, that. It's okay, the room doesn't smell that much anymore.
JANE: [looking queasy again] How about we just walk around and enjoy the sunshine? I
wanna see where you hang out here.
DARIA: Okay. There should be visitors' parking left by the Commons. The frat boys
should still be sleeping off last night's binge, so we'll be okay.
JANE: [relieved] Good. Fresh air.


EXT: STUDENT COMMONS PARKING LOT, RAFT CAMPUS

Jane finds a parking space. Both get out carrying their milkshakes, locking the doors
behind them. Daria and Jane look around the campus. Loud music, by Kid Rock, plays
from a rental house nearby.

DARIA: It isn't much, you know, but--well, it isn't much.
JANE: Looks pretty big from where I'm standing.
DARIA: Just an illusion. The Internet and television do that to you. Distort your
perceptions.
JANE: What time is it?
DARIA: [checks her watch] You've got four hours until your beefcake is served. Relax.
JANE: Quinn's on her way home?
DARIA: She took off almost an hour ago. We were still in traffic. Those semis scare the
crap out of me, what they can do to your car.
JANE: [makes an anxious face] Yes, thanks, don't remind me.
DARIA: We can--what are you doing?
JANE: [bobbing head to Kid Rock music in background] What? Oh, this?
DARIA: Yes, that. Please stop.
JANE: [singing along with music while making a fierce face] "I've seen the future and
it's lookin' grim / A lake of fire, lookin' like a long swim / I'm a fist of rage! I'm a fist of
rage!" Oh, c'mon, don't you love that male white trash stuff?
DARIA: It's because you're an artist that you do things like this, right?
JANE: [stops bobbing along with the music] I just do it to bug you, because you're Daria.
DARIA: That was special.
JANE: Thanks.
DARIA: Don't do it again.
JANE: [looks woebegone] Aw, rats.

The music abruptly shuts off in the middle of the song.

DARIA: [taking on a beatific look] Listen! Do you hear that?
JANE: [playing along] What is it? It makes my head feel strange!
DARIA: It's silence! The rarest thing in all Raft College! Listen!

Both listen. Amused at first, they slowly become aware that, indeed, the campus is very
quiet. They look around, becoming puzzled.

DARIA: Well.
JANE: Yes, it does seem . . .
DARIA: Yeah. You don't think it's because of us, do you?

Jane cannot think of a comeback. Their attention is drawn to a girl student who suddenly
runs from a door in the Commons. She is sobbing. She heads toward the two girls, then
pulls out her car keys, gets into a car, and drives off with screaming tires. In the distance,
a male student can be heard yelling, "Oh, fucking hell! Fucking hell, man!" His shouts
echo around the campus. Daria and Jane look at one another, then continue looking
around. Hearing running footsteps behind them, the girls turn and see a male student
running toward the Commons. As he passes them, he slows a moment. His expression is
agonized.

STUDENT: They hit the other tower! [runs off] Those lousy fuckers!

Stunned, Daria and Jane merely watch him go. Jane then looks down at the milkshake in
her hand, and she walks over a few steps to a garbage can and drops it in, unfinished.
Daria, who is done with hers, does the same.

JANE: Maybe we should go in and see if there's, like, a TV or something.
DARIA: There's a big screen set right inside.

The two walk toward the Commons. Soon they can see a large crowd of students in the
TV lounge, through the Commons first-floor windows. They cannot see the big-screen
TV through the crowd. Several students are holding their heads, and several appear to be
weeping. A female student is just outside the Commons doors, shrieking into a cell
phone.

STUDENT: [near hysteria] Where are you, Daddy? Where in Manhattan is that? Can you
see it? No! Don't go near there! Daddy! Don't go near there! Get out of there! Daddy,
listen to me! God damn it, Daddy, get the hell out of there! [begins to sob]

Jane and Daria pass her to go inside, their confusion turning to fear.


EXT: STUDENT COMMONS TV LOUNGE, RAFT CAMPUS

As Daria and Jane open the doors, they can hear the TV, its volume turned up very loud.
The students watching the TV seem paralyzed, most of them voiceless. Several talk in
whispers, never taking their eyes from the screen.

Jane takes the initiative and gently pushes through the crowd. Only moments later, she
gets a full view of the TV screen and stops dead.

JANE: [lets breath out in a rush, aghast] Oh, fucking hell. Oh, goddamn fucking hell.
DARIA: What's-- [sees TV screen, stops dead, voice runs out]

They stare at the screen like everyone else. Time passes and no one notices. New York
City is shut down. The federal shutdown of all airline flights is announced. The Pentagon
is hit. The South Tower of the World Trade Center collapses. New York and Washington,
D.C. evacuations are announced. The North Tower collapses. Word is passed that
hijacked airliners were used in the attack. The crash of a fourth jet in Pennsylvania is
announced. Soon after this last part, Jane leans closer to the giant TV screen, reading a
line of news type running along the bottom of the screen.

JANE: Oh. Oh, no.

Jane glances at Daria to see if she's seen the type. Daria has but says nothing. Jane looks
around and leans toward a guy standing near her.

JANE: [whispering] What flight did they say was--[almost glances at Daria but stops
herself]--from here?
STUDENT: [never taking eyes from TV] It left Logan this morning. They're not sure
which one it was, though.

Jane looks back at Daria. Daria's face is blank with horror. Eyes glazed, she stares at the
big screen.

JANE: [gently] Daria, let's go. We should call about--
DARIA: [speaking slowly, eyes never leaving the TV] Quinn. [pause] I know her flight
number, five one three. [pause] I have her phone . . .

Daria's voice runs out as she and Jane look back at the TV. The announcer says that two
hijacked flights from Boston Logan are believed involved, from different airlines. Each
left the airport about eight o'clock that morning. Daria is speechless.

JANE: [firmly] Come on.

Jane takes Daria by the arm and pulls her away from the crowd, down the hall a bit. Once
by themselves, out of sight of the TV, Jane reaches into her red vest and pulls out a small
red cell phone.

JANE: You have Quinn's cell phone number?
DARIA: [very subdued; looks down, reaches into her jacket pocket and pulls out the
scrap of paper Quinn gave her] Here.
JANE: Okay. [flips open her phone] She's on flight five one three?
DARIA: [soft voice] May I call? Please.
JANE: [half-second pause] Sure. Here. [hands Daria the cell phone but holds up the paper
herself so Daria can see it]

Daria pushes the buttons, moving like a slow-motion robot. When done, she raises the
phone to her ear. It rings five times.

FEMALE VOICE ON PHONE: We're sorry, but the number you have dialed is not
answering. Please try your call again later.
DARIA: [slowly flips phone shut, then opens it again] Let me try again. I might have
gotten it wrong.
JANE: Sure. Maybe you can't call a cell phone on a plane or something. I don't
remember if cell phones work from aircraft.
DARIA: They do. Mom gets calls on planes all the time.

Daria punches out the numbers again, raises the phone, and hears:

FEMALE VOICE ON PHONE: We're sorry, but the number you have dialed is not
answering. Please--

Daria snaps the phone shut, opens it, and dials again, faster.

FEMALE VOICE ON PHONE: We're sorry, but the number you have dialed is not--
DARIA: No. [dials again]
FEMALE VOICE ON PHONE: We're sorry, but the num--
DARIA: [breathing heavily now] No. [dials again]
JANE: [very softly] Daria.
FEMALE VOICE ON PHONE: We're sorry--

Daria's face twists as she grips the phone. She snaps it shut, opens it, but accidentally
drops it.

DARIA: [snatching for the phone, too late] Damn it!

The phone bounces on the floor but doesn't appear to be damaged. Daria snatches it up
and starts dialing again.

JANE: Daria!
DARIA: [panicked, losing control] Wait a minute!
FEMALE VOICE ON PHONE: We're sor--
DARIA: Shit! [snaps phone shut, wipes face with one hand] I'm not getting it right! I'm
not getting her number right!
STUDENT [in background, in the TV crowd]: Two planes hijacked out of Boston Logan,
Jesus fucking Christ! How could they DO that? Doesn't anyone do security checks?
JANE: Maybe she didn't charge her phone batteries. It might just have die--gone out.

Daria snaps open the phone and dials once more, from memory, very fast.

FEMALE VOICE ON PHONE: We're sorry, but the number you have dialed--
DARIA: [losing it] You are NOT sorry! You are NOT FUCKING SORRY!
FEMALE VOICE ON PHONE: --is not answering. Please try your call again later.
JANE: [grabs Daria's hands] Daria! Let's call the airline! I know she's okay!
DARIA: [on the verge of really losing it, voice almost a howl] QUINNNN!
JANE: Daria! [moves close, grabs Daria in tight full body hug] Daria! Stop it! She's
alive! I know it! Stop it! Quinn's alive! She is!

Daria fights for self-control, face red, trying hard not to cry.

JANE: [still holds Daria as tightly as possible, speaks flat and low] We'll call the airline.
I can get the number. If they shut the airlines down, they may have routed her flight
somewhere else. She could be anywhere, but she is alive. [speaking slowly and firmly]
Quinn is alive. She's alive and well. We're going to find her now.

Daria hangs onto her self-control by the thinnest threat. She gives one nod. Tears stream
down her face.

JANE: We need to sit down. Then we're going to find Quinn. Come on.

Daria nods again, still hanging on. Jane looks around and guides her over to a lounge sofa
where several male and female students are sitting, talking animatedly on cell phones.

JANE: [to students, in the best U.S. Army command voice] MOVE IT!

The sofa is instantly cleared. Jane gets Daria seated and sits next to her, one arm around
her. With her free arm, Jane pries the red cell phone from Daria's hand and expertly dials
411 with her thumb.

JANE: [into cell phone] Mid-American Airlines desk at Boston Logan airport. [pause]
Wait, wait. Please dial it for me. This is an emergency. Fine, whatever.

Daria sniffs, then reaches into a pocket and takes out a handkerchief to wipe her face. She
takes off her glasses and wipes them off.

DARIA: I'm sorry. This isn't like me. She was just here, and I can't . . .
JANE: [gives Daria a long squeeze but still talking into the phone] Please keep trying.
Can you fix it so when the line is clear, it will ring for me? [groans] Okay, give me the
number again so I can program it into my phone. Slower, wait, slower. [thumbs keys on
phone to program a phone number in] Okay, thanks, thanks a lot. [snaps phone shut,
snaps it open again, hits two keys for speed dialing and holds it to her ear] Shit. [snaps
phone shut]
DARIA: I'm sorry. [begins to cry softly, hides face in hands]
JANE: [grim] We'll find her. [snaps phone open, thumbs in speed-dial, waits, snaps
phone shut] We'll keep trying.
DARIA: [through tears] I have to go to the bathroom.
JANE: Where is it?
DARIA: [wipes face, forces herself to stop crying] Down the hall. I'll be back.
JANE: [helps Daria to her feet and sends her off] Hurry back. I'll keep trying.

Jane sits down, snaps the cell phone open, thumbs in speed dialing, waits, then snaps the
phone shut. Her head drops as she holds the cell phone in her hands, as weary and
frightened as she's ever been. She tries the phone again without luck. A large, muscular
male student walks over and sits beside her where Daria sat.

JANE: [doesn't look up, voice filled with venom] Get the fuck out of here.

Male student flees, mumbling apologies. Jane tries the phone again without success.

JANE: [to self] Goddamn worthless twenty-first century.

Jane snaps open her cell phone with a practiced motion, thumbs in speed dialing, and puts
the phone to her ear. Suddenly she looks up, her face clearing.

JANE: [to cell phone] Yes! Yes, I need to find out about a friend of mine who was on one
of your flights today! Uh, yeah, flight five thirteen to Lawndale. It left this morning about
. . . what? It what? You're fucking kidding me! Sorry, I'm didn't mean to swear, it's just
such a fucking awful day--but you said what about flight five thirteen? [sees Daria
returning up the hall, jumps to her feet] DARIA! DARIA, GET OVER HERE! [to phone]
Sorry, I didn't mean to yell! Hold on!

Daria appears, still moving like a stressed-out robot. Her face and hair are a mess, and
water is splattered all over the front of her clothing.

JANE: [to phone] You're sure about that? Well, where is everyone who was on that
flight? Where did they go after the airport was shut down? [pause] Do you have a
passenger list? Can you tell me where she was sent? [pause] Her name's Quinn
Morgendorffer. Q-U-I-N-N, Quinn, then Morgendorffer. M-O-R . . . [pause] She is?
Where's that? [pause] Oh, thank God, thank you so much! Thank you! [snaps phone shut,
then practically shouts at Daria, who's right in front of her] Quinn's here in Boston, do
you fucking believe that? Her flight never left! It had mechanical problems and they
delayed it and she never fucking left the fucking city! She's been sent to a hotel next to
the airport! She--

Daria bursts into tears and falls into Jane, who drops her cell phone in her effort to grab
Daria.

JANE: [holds Daria tightly, talks softly as Daria sobs] Daria! It's okay. It's okay, baby.
Quinn's okay. We've got to go get Quinn. It's all right now. It's all right. Come on.
Quinn's okay. Let's go get Quinn. I know where the hotel is and we can pick her up now.
Let's go get her. Come on. Come on, baby.

Daria nods, her face puffy and red and wet. Jane takes her cell phone, handed over by
another student, and leads Daria out of the Commons to the parking lot, one arm holding
Daria close to her. The burly male student who tried to sit next to Jane watches them go
as he takes their vacated seat on the couch.

STUDENT: [to a friend] Jeez, I guess even the dykes are having it bad today.


EXT: LATER THAT SAME DAY, GROSSLY OVERCROWDED HOTEL PARKING
LOT NEAR BOSTON LOGAN AIRPORT

Jane's red car cruises past the hotel. It is obviously impossible to get into the lot, which is
jammed beyond capacity. Police lights flash everywhere. Hundreds of people mill about,
including TV camera crews. Jane's car wanders the area for a bit, not finding a space,
then drives up onto a grassy median and stops there, the front tires crushing a rosebush.
Jane and Daria get out. Daria clutches a messy handkerchief but is in much better control
now.

DARIA: [voice very rough] Where did they say she was?
JANE: Christ, she could be anywhere. Quinn!
DARIA: [enters the crowd, looking everywhere] Quinn!
JANE: [far into the crowd, looking everywhere] Quinn!
DARIA: [top of her lungs, terrible voice] QUINN! QUINN MORGENDORFFER! [stops
to blow her nose]
JANE: Quinn! Daria, head for the lobby!
DARIA: [looks completely exhausted, a mountaineer who cannot find the summit]
QUINNNN!

The two slowly head for the front doors of the hotel, where police officers and official-
looking people are looking at papers and talking into cell phones and walkie-talkies.
Daria sees a large, yard-high boulder placed for decoration and climbs on top of it,
standing up to look over the heads of the crowd.

DARIA: QUINN! QUINN MORG-- [breaks into coughing, takes deep breath]
QUINNNN!

As Daria turns in place, she sees a pale, familiar face near the doors of the hotel. She
waves her arms wildly, hysterically animated.

DARIA: QUINN! QUINNNN!

Daria jumps down from the boulder and runs, shoving her way though the jam, still
screaming.

DARIA: QUINN! QUINNNN! QUINNNN!

Daria breaks out of the crowd at the front of the hotel and finds Quinn standing by a
turned-off water fountain, only ten feet from her. Only one suitcase is with Quinn, plus
her backpack and laptop, which are hanging on her by shoulder straps. Quinn sees Daria,
but Quinn's face is empty. Quinn does not even react as Daria flings herself onto her
sister, screaming out her name. A moment later, Jane breaks out of the crowd as well and
grabs both sisters. Daria and Jane immediately start to cry. Daria loses her handkerchief
and almost loses her glasses.

Quinn merely stands there as she is hugged. One hand slowly reaches up and presses
against Daria's back. Her hollow eyes stare into space; she doesn't make eye contact or
speak. Even as she cries, Jane pulls back a bit and notices this, tempering her joy. It is
clear that something happened to Quinn in the last few hours that was much worse than
what happened to Daria.

JANE: [recovers somewhat] Is this all your luggage? Didn't you have another suitcase?

After a moment, Quinn shrugs. Daria doesn't notice, her face buried in Quinn's shoulder
and hair.

QUINN: [mumbles, barely audible] Lost.
JANE: We tried to call you. Did your phone batteries die?
QUINN: [pause, mumbles] Was in the suitcase. [pause] Forgot.
JANE: [senses Quinn is shell-shocked] Okay, we'll get it from the airline later. Let me
get this one and your bag, and let's get to the car. I'm parked over there. [points] We're
going back to my place.
DARIA: [talks while crying, hoarse to the point of losing her voice] We can go to my
dorm.
JANE: [makes a face] No, my place probably smells better, and I've got more room.
Come on, let's go.

Quinn starts to go, then stops and slowly reaches into a side pocket of her pants. She pulls
out a key, not making eye contact. Jane takes it and looks at it.

JANE: [soft voice] Daria's room?
QUINN: [barely audible] Forgot.

Jane shrugs and pockets the key.

JANE: [wipes her eyes] We never made it back there anyway. It's okay.

Quinn's gaze drifts off. She seems content to be led along by Daria as Jane grabs the
remaining suitcase and eases the backpack off Quinn's shoulder and onto her own. The
trio slowly makes its way back through the crowd to Jane's car.

JANE: [struggles with the suitcase, mutters to self] Why couldn't you have lost the heavy
one?


FADE OUT

END OF PART ONE

DARIA: Nine-Eleven and Counting
Part Two-A: Hate to Wake You Up . . .
Part Two-B: . . . To Say Goodbye
Part Three: Hold Me Like You'll Never Let Me Go