Daria
in
"The Next Step"
Notes: This story picks up right after "Is It College Yet?" and, like many others, presents a view of what might have happened next. Readers should be familiar with the events of the final Daria episode, and a good working knowledge of at least a few other episodes couldn't hurt either.
INT: PIZZA PRINCE
Jane and Daria have just finished a pie between them, and are looking satisfied and perhaps a little overfull.
Daria: So, any big plans for the summer?
Jane: Hmm, that's a toughie. You know, our last summer as irresponsible children and all.
Daria: Oh, yes. College students are paragons of maturity and discipline.
Jane: Point there. Still, this is a liberating kind of moment. We're free at last from the bonds of high school, no more pencils, no more books, no more DeMartino's creepy looks. And yet we've not yet embarked upon the next step. We are, to coin a phrase, between schools at the moment. It strikes me that this is a fine opportunity to behave like heathens.
Daria: Funny, that's the same thing you said about Trent's Groundhog's Day Eve party last year.
Jane: Hey, who knew that the smoke alarms were rigged to summon the fire department? But to tell you the truth, I thought I'd spend a fair amount of time painting and sculpting. You know, the last of Jane Lane as a raw, untrained artist, before BFAC gets its claws in me and turns me into another cog in the machine.
Daria: It's good to know you're looking forward to it.
Jane: You know I am. I just wish I didn't have to wait here until Winter Break. It's gonna be weird around here without you when fall comes.
Daria: Hey, at least we're heading for the same town eventually. Incidentally, have you been able to tell your parents about your big college plans yet?
Jane: Not yet. Last I heard, they were in the Yukon. Which actually makes them easier to get a hold of than usual, since they're on this continent and in a mostly English-speaking country.
Daria: By the way, thanks for picking up the pizza. I'm a little strapped at the moment. Quinn hasn't given me much fuel for extortion lately.
Jane: I suppose we should get used to poverty.
Daria: You know, it hadn't occurred to me until now, but had you thought about how you're going to pay for college?
Jane: It's covered. Mom told me a few years ago that she'd set up a bank account for Trent and me. Which means I should actually have twice what I need.
Daria: (sighs) My mom's been bugging me about scholarship applications again.
Jane: You'd think she'd be satisfied with the fifty bucks you got from the Dian Fossey Award Foundation. Besides, isn't it a bit late for that?
Daria: Not for next year. I tried to argue that I wouldn't qualify due to my lack of extra-curriculars or enthusiasm, but Mom pointed out that there are plenty of scholarships awarded for academics alone. Damn logic.
Jane: That's a phrase that goes through my mind on at least a twice-daily basis.
Daria: So, I'm heading over to the library tomorrow to download some forms. I'd do it at home, but my internet connection runs at the speed of a cow on crutches.
Jane: The day after we graduate from high school, and you're off to the library. Daria, I worry about you sometimes.
Tom: Hey guys, what's up?
Daria and Jane look up to discover Tom standing at their table.
Daria: Tom? What are you doing here?
Tom: I was in the mood for some pizza. One of my friends threw a graduation party last night, and all they had was stuff like caviar, gooey French cheese, goose liver pate – you know, tastes like crap but they serve it because it's expensive and chic.
Jane: So you wanted some cheap crap instead? You came to the right place. Grab a triangle of greasy flavored flatbread and park.
Daria: Um, actually Tom, I was kind of hoping for some time alone with Jane. You know, girl talk.
Tom: What does that mean, anyway?
Daria: Tom, I don't want to be rude...
Tom: (a trifle downcast) Okay, I understand. I guess I'll see you around. (he exits)
Jane: What was that about?
Daria: Hey, you of all people should be able to identify with not wanting to hang around your ex.
Jane: You mean OUR ex. There is that. It makes me wonder why he was so keen to hang out with us, though. I mean, it seems like it would be kind of like rubbing salt in the wound.
Daria: He was just here for a slice of pizza.
Jane: Uh-huh, sure. That's why he left without actually buying any.
Daria: Maybe he's short on cash right now too.
Jane rolls her eyes.
Daria: Okay, maybe not.
INT: Sandi's room
The (former) members of the Fashion Club are hanging out. Quinn is filing her nails, Sandi is looking through her closet, and Tiffany is lying on the floor flipping through a Waif magazine. Stacy is just coming in with some drinks.
Stacy: Who wants a diet soda?
Tiffany: Um... no thanks. (shudders)
Quinn: Hm? Oh, sure.
Sandi: Whatever.
Stacy distributes sodas and sits down on the bed.
No one speaks.
Stacy: So...
Silence.
Stacy: Um, shouldn't we be talking about what we're going to do with all our new free time?
Tiffany: Maybe we should go shopping...
Sandi: (suddenly enthusiastic) Great idea, Tiffany! Let's be on our way, then!
Quinn: Um, guys, I don't want to be a stick in the mud –
Tiffany: Ew...
Quinn: – but, shouldn't we be trying to figure out stuff to do that's not about clothes and fashion and stuff?
Tiffany: But, what else is there?
Sandi: No, Tiffany. As much as I am loath to admit it, Quinn has a point. It is time to show the world that the Former Members of the Fashion Club are capable of branching out in new directions and redefining our image.
Tiffany: So... we should get makeovers?
Quinn: Maybe we could... just go hang out somewhere and talk.
Tiffany: Isn't that what we're doing now?
Quinn: No, I mean... look, it's like when people go and hang out at the pizza place and they just sit around and have pizza and drink sodas and talk about stuff.
Sandi: An interesting idea, Quinn. All in favor?
Quinn: Um, Sandi, we don't need to do that anymore. We can just go, we don't have to do the whole club thing.
Stacy: Does that mean I should stop taking notes?
INT: Pizza Prince
The Fashion Foursome sits at a table, eating cheeseless pizza in silence. Daria and Jane are visible in the background.
The silence goes on some more.
Quinn: Good pizza, isn't it?
Tiffany: I'm don
Quinn: But you only had half a slice.
Tiffany: I need to keep my girlish figure...
Stacy: Can't I have my notebook back? It's so hard to follow the conversation without it!
Quinn: (sullenly) What conversation?
Sandi: I don't know why any of us thought this would be a good idea. I mean, look around. This place is crawling with losers.
Stacy: You know, I never thought it would end this way. I always kind of figured there would be some big ceremony or something.
Sandi: Stacy!
Stacy: What? What did I say?
Sandi: That is probably the single most commendable idea you have ever had in the history of the Fashion Club. We must not allow our beloved club to leave us without a proper sendoff. Therefore, as my final act as President, I move that we immediately make plans for a proper ceremonial closing to the Lawndale High School Fashion Club. All in favor?
Hands enthusiastically go up.
Sandi: Motion carried.
INT: Pizza Prince, Daria and Jane's table
Jane: Hear that? They're finally calling it quits.
Daria: Hm. Never thought I'd see the day. What's that? (she's noticed Jane's outstretched hand)
Jane: Eighty dead presidents, Morgendorffer. The Fashion Club is dead and gone. You saw it happen.
Daria: (frowning a bit) Jane, we made that bet four months ago.
Jane: I don't remember anything about a time limit. But just to show I'm a hell of a friend, I'll agree to split the difference. Pay up forty and we call it square. Come on, it was a double-or-nothing bet to begin with, you'll still be forty ahead.
Daria: What was your math score on the SATs again? (she pays up anyway)
The Next Day...
INT: Lane Residence, upstairs
Jane comes out of her room wearing gray jogging shorts, red t-shirt, and sneakers. Her walkman is clipped to her fanny pack.
Nick walks by in his bathrobe.
Jane: (a little sleepy) Hey, Nick.
Nick: Oh, hi Jane. You mind if I go first in the shower?
Jane: Nah, help yourself. No point in showering right before a run.
Jane heads down the stairs, stretching her arms. Trent is passed out on the couch, but Jane takes no notice as she goes outside.
The Tank is parked in the driveway. Jesse sits in the driver's seat, Max is crawling underneath.
Jesse: Now?
Max: Not yet!
Jane: (stretching her legs, using the Tank's bumper as a support) Hey, guys. The beast having a little indigestion?
Max: She's gonna be just fine! She just needs a little massage in the right places...
Jesse: Now?
Max: Not yet!! Hey, what's this plastic stuff in the oil pan?
Jane: Is it right under the fuel line?
Max: Yeah.
Jane: It's hot glue. (she slips on her headphones and jogs away)
Max: How the freak did that get in there?
Jesse: Now?
Max: I'll TELL you when to start it!!
Jesse: Okay. (he starts it, the result is a horrible grinding and a lot of black smoke)
Max: AUUGHH!! TURN IT OFF, TURN IT OFF!!
Jesse: (turns it off) Oops. Sorry, dude.
INT: Morgendorffer Residence, Living Room
Daria is watching TV.
TV: He donated his brain to science – and they put it back in his festering corpse to formulate equations! Einstein's Monster, next, on Sick-Sad-World!
Helen walks in.
Helen: Daria, have you –
Daria: I'm going to the library today to fill out some scholarship application forms.
Helen: I was just going to ask if you'd seen your sister.
Daria: And then you were going to ask...
Helen: (sighs) Whether you'd given any further thought to scholarship application.
Daria: It's good to know that occasionally I can still be a step ahead of you. Quinn's out in the back yard with her friends. I have no idea what they're doing and I don't particularly want to.
Helen: Well, do you think you could take Quinn to the library with you when you go? It wouldn't hurt for her to fill out some applications too.
Daria: I wasn't aware that the cost of cosmetology school had gone up so much.
Helen: You know, Daria, Quinn's been doing a lot better in school lately. It wouldn't kill you to give her the benefit of the doubt.
Daria: So much for "That which does not kill us makes us stronger."
Helen: If you take Quinn to the library with you, I won't bother you about filling out the forms for a week.
Daria: That's a start... but I also find I'm about forty dollars short on spending cash lately...
Helen: Daria, what's the point in my paying you to fill out forms that will give you money to go to college?
Daria: Consider it a long-term, high-yield investment.
EXT: Morgendorffer Back Yard
Quinn, Stacy, Sandi, and Tiffany stand in a circle around the barbecue grill.
Quinn: And so, to symbolize my break from the Fashion Club -
Stacy: God rest its soul!
Quinn: - I have decided to sacrifice my beloved pink butterfly shirt, which has served me so well over the years.
Quinn takes out a carefully wrapped package and places it in the grill, where it smolders for a moment, then bursts into flames.
Quinn: I don't know how I'll ever get by with just four of them.
Sandi: A commendable choice, Quinn. Of all the items in your wardrobe that might have been candidates for incineration, I'd say you chose the most flameworthy. Stacy?
Stacy: Oh... I don't know if I can do this!
Quinn: It's easier if you don't think too much about it.
Sandi: Come on now, Stacy.
Tiffany: You can do it...
Stacy: All right. (she reaches into her backpack and pulls out a well-worn spiral-bound notebook) As of this moment, I've taken my last meeting note. The notes themselves will be saved for prosperity, but the notebook is needed no more. (writing) Stacy... throws... notebook... into... fire. (she sniffles, closes the notebook, and tosses it in.) Farewell!
Sandi: My turn, then. (she pulls out a stack of index cards) As Former President of the Late Fashion Club, I have many fond memories of the times we have spent together, the moments we have shared, the style we have inspired among the less fashionable. We reached a pinnacle of popularity that most only dreamed of. From humble beginnings, we created a culture based on fellowship, cosmetics, and most importantly, the ineffable look of today. But I would never want us to lose sight of one important thing: It all started with a Scrunchie.
Sandi removes a scrunchie from her back pocket.
Stacy: Is that really...
Tiffany: It can't be...
Quinn: What?
Sandi: It was before your time, Quinn. (reverently) This is the Original Fashion Club Ceremonial Scrunchie.
-Flashback-
Sandi, about twelve years old, walks into a classroom and sits down at a desk between a similarly-aged Stacy and Tiffany.
Stacy: Hey, cool scrunchie. Where'd you get it?
Sandi: That new place that just opened in the mall. You know, Cashman's.
Tiffany: Oh yeah... the place with the sparkly outfits...
Stacy: I haven't been there yet. I don't really go shopping much.
Sandi: (looking disdainfully at her outfit) It shows.
Stacy: (downcast) I guess I never paid much attention to my clothes.
Sandi: I'll tell you what. Let's go there after school, and I'll show you what's coming into style this month.
Stacy: You would do that for me?
Sandi: I consider it my duty to help the less fashionable.
Tiffany: Hmm... maybe we could start a club or something...
-Return to present day-
Stacy: And that's how it all began.
Sandi: And so, let us take this moment to reflect -
Stacy: Sandi introduced us to Cashman's, and we picked out our first fashionable clothes under her supervision.
Sandi: (continuing) - to reflect on what has been, our fond memories -
Stacy: I remember I wanted to get the green shirt, but Sandi said it looked better on her, so I picked the blue one.
Sandi: (a little put out at the interruption) - our fond memories as Fashion Club Members, as symbolized by the Ceremonial Scrunchie -
Stacy: (getting a little emotional) Of course, I liked the green one better, but Sandi insisted that the blue one was better on me, and I let her talk me into it!
Sandi: Er... The Ceremonial Scrunchie, which has been with us since the beginning -
Stacy grabs the scrunchie and chucks it into the fire.
Stacy: Oops.
Sandi glares at Stacy, who glares back.
Quinn: Um... Tiffany! What have you brought to sacrifice?
Tiffany: Oh yeah... hang on a moment...
Sandi: The blue one was better on you.
Stacy: I liked the green one.
Sandi: That's because you were looking at it with an untrained eye.
Stacy: Sandi, we were twelve. Are you trying to tell me you had a trained eye at that age?
Quinn: Guys! Is this really necessary?
Stacy: Why don't you just admit that you wanted the green one for yourself, so you talked me out of it?
Sandi: Are you implying that I would wrongly advise a fellow Fashion Club Member?
Tiffany: Here it is...
Stacy: (sarcastically) Oh no, Sandi, I would never imply that you might make yourself look good at someone else's expense.
Tiffany: My last can of Everhold hairspray...
Tiffany tosses the hairspray into the fire.
Sandi: I don't think I like your tone, Stacy!
Quinn: Um... Tiffany, I'm not sure that was a good idea...
Stacy: You should talk about tone, Miss Valley-Girl-Wannabe!
Quinn: Guys, I think we should -
Sandi: All right, that's it! You're out of the Fashion Club!
Stacy: Duh! There is no more Fashion Club!
Quinn: HIT THE DECK!!
Quinn grabs all three of her friends in a flying tackle and throws them bodily to the ground as the hairspray can explodes in a pretty orange mushroom, blasting the grill back about ten feet.
There is a moment of stunned silence.
One by one, the girls look back at the smoking ruin of the grill.
Tiffany: Maybe I should have gone with the Cashman's Spring Catalog...
INT: Helen's Car
Daria is driving while Quinn chatters away next to her.
Quinn: So then Stacy starts that hyperventilating thing that she used to do when she got really upset about something, and Sandi and Tiffany had to carry her into the house while I turned on the sprinklers to put out the fire, and it was just bad luck that Mom came out just then to see what all the commotion was about and it's not my fault she tripped on the sprinkler-turner-oner-thingy and scattered her papers all over the lawn, and I really think it's mean of her to send me to the library with you in front of all my friends especially after we were all so traumatized and everything and besides we still need to talk over that whole thing between Sandi and Stacy, and I mean really, it was five years ago and you'd think that they'd be over it by now but they're not and we don't have the Fashion Club to keep us together anymore so I'm really worried about what's going to happen now and so what do you think?
Daria doesn't respond.
Quinn: Daria?
Daria: Oh, are you still talking?
Quinn: Daria! I'm trying to tell you something really important here and all you can do is make jokes?
Daria: Quinn, I was there, remember? I saw everything you're talking about. I don't need the instant replay.
Quinn: Oh, that's right, you were there, weren't you? Sorry, sometimes I just overlook you.
Daria: (a little peeved) What do you mean, sometimes?
Quinn: No, what I mean is -
Daria: Hey, don't worry about it. In three months I'll be off to college and then I really won't be there. You might as well stay in practice.
Quinn starts to say something, but then doesn't. She suddenly looks very thoughtful.
INT: Library
Daria's at a computer, Quinn's sitting next to her looking at the screen, and occasionally at Daria. She has the same thoughtful look on her face.
Daria: Don't you have something better to do? Wait, don't answer that, of course you don't. This is a library, what would you have to do here?
Quinn: I'm... um... (sighs) Okay, I'll leave you alone. Let me know when you're done. Tom!
Daria: Tom?
Daria looks up. Tom is walking by with a couple of books.
Tom: Daria! Hey, how's it going?
Daria: What are you doing here?
Tom: Uh, getting some books. That's what this place is for.
Daria: No, I mean -
Quinn: I'll just leave you two alone, okay? (She winks at Daria, then flounces away.)
Tom: So, um, what brings you here?
Daria: Just looking up some scholarship applications. Something I imagine you haven't had to worry about.
Tom: Hey, what brought that on?
Daria: What are you really doing here?
Tom: I'm just getting some reading material on Bromwell. You know, background information on the school, some recent publications by the professors, that kind of thing.
Daria: And that's all?
Tom: Well, I thought I'd also download some pornography on the internet, but since you're hogging the computer I guess I'll have to do it from home.
Daria: I just think it's a little weird that... (she pauses, and the scowl drops off her face) ...never mind. I'll see you around, okay?
Tom: Sure.
Daria collects her things and heads for the door. Quinn catches up with her on the way out.
Quinn: So, what's the verdict?
Daria: Huh?
Quinn: You know, are you guys getting back together or what?
Daria: No, we're not. Whatever gave you that idea?
Quinn: Come on, Daria, it's obvious he's still interested. This is your chance to get him back on your terms. You can have him wrapped, I tell you. (she holds up a pinky finger to make the point)
Daria: Quinn, imagine what your friends would think if you had to call and get a ride home from the library.
Quinn: (shuts up)
INT: Daria's room
Daria dials the phone.
INT: Lane Kitchen
Jesse is eating a late breakfast in the kitchen as the phone rings. He get up and answers it
Jesse: Yeah?
Split screen with Daria.
Daria: Oh. I think I have the wrong number.
Jesse: Hey Daria. You calling for Jane?
Daria: Um, sure... Jesse?
Jesse: Yeah. I'll get her.
He puts the phone down and exits. A moment later, Jane picks it up.
Jane: Yo!
Daria: Hey.
Jane: Hey, what's going on?
Daria: This is going to sound kind of weird, but have you talked to Tom lately?
Jane: You're right, that does sound kind of weird. Last time I saw him was the last time you saw him.
Daria: No, it wasn't. I bumped into him at the library today.
Jane: Hm. What was he doing there?
Daria: He said he was looking up information on Bromwell.
Jane: He was probably stalking you.
Daria: (scowls) That's not funny.
Jane: All kidding aside, why would he need to go to the public library to look up anything on Bromwell? The Sloane family is Bromwell. If he wanted information, all he needed to do was dig through some old photo albums.
Daria: He said he was getting some stuff recently published by some professors there.
Jane: Yeah, that sounds plausible.
Daria: Why would he be following me around?
Jane: Isn't it obvious? He's still got the hots for you.
Daria: I don't inspire "hots".
Jane: Tell that to Upchuck.
Daria: Upchuck would be turned on by a cinder block.
There's a click, and the split screen is suddenly shared by Nick in the Lane living room.
Jane: Hello?
Nick: Oh! Jane, you still on the phone?
Jane: Yes, Nick.
Nick: Could you let me know when you're done? Thanks.
Nick hangs up.
Jane: Anyway, it's probably nothing. I mean, how would he know you were going to be at the library?
Daria: That's a good point.
Jane: He probably got a little flustered when he saw you and forgot why he was really there. Anyway, I gotta go, I need to check out how much the 'Rents put aside for my college fund. It'll be useful to know whether my Spring Break trip to South Padre Island will be covered.
Daria: Jane, where the hell are your priorities?
Jane: You're right, what am I thinking? First the Spring Break trip, then tuition.
Daria: Later.
They hang up. Daria's side of the screen goes away.
Jane heads out into the living room, where Max and Nick are watching TV.
Nick: You're off the phone? Cool.
Nick picks up the phone and dials while Jane opens a closet and starts pulling banker boxes out.
Hours Later...
Jane is surrounded by papers from about half a dozen boxes. Max has fallen asleep on the couch, Nick is still on the phone.
Jane: Dammit, where the hell do they keep the stupid bank book?
She pulls down another box, and the pile collapses in a large heap. Jane gives the pile a kick, and start to stomp off when she notices a slim blue book on the top of the pile.
Jane: Oh. Of course, it was in the last box. (she picks it up and starts flipping through it. It soon becomes apparent that the information she needs isn't in there.) Nick, is Trent around?
Nick: (into phone) Hang on a sec. (to Jane) I think he's in the basement. He's practicing or something.
Jane: (listening to the silence) Asleep with a guitar again, huh?
Nick: (back on the phone again) So, I'll come by tomorrow and reclaim it, right? You're not going to sell it to anyone else?
INT: Lane Basement
Trent is, indeed, sleeping with his guitar, which is hooked through his amp into headphones. Oddly, his hands seem to be forming chords as he sleeps.
Jane comes down the stairs.
Jane: Yo, Trent!
no response.
Jane: I don't have time for this.
She pulls the guitar from his hands and strums at random. Trent jumps awake.
Trent: Gaahh!! Janey, what the hell are you doing?
Jane: Trying to wake you up sometime this side of the apocalypse.
Trent: No, I mean you're holding the guitar all wrong. Your left hand should be more relaxed, you know, loose.
Jane: I'm not in a relaxed mood right now. Listen, do you know anything about that account Mom and Dad set up for us to go to college?
Trent: Hmm... nope. (starts to go back to sleep)
Jane: They did set up an account, didn't they?
Trent: I'm pretty sure. I remember once I said I wanted to go to Berkeley, and it came up. Then I learned that you had to take classes.
Jane: When did you want to go to Berkeley?
Trent: I think I was about eight at the time. Anyway, that's the last I heard it.
Jane: Come on, Trent, this is important. Do you have any idea how I could get a hold of them right now?
Trent: Aren't they in Alaska, or something?
Jane: Canada, I think. Look, if Mom calls, don't let her get off the phone without talking to me, okay?
Trent: Sure.
Jane exits.
Trent: Um, can I have my guitar back? I need to practice... (he falls asleep.)
INT: Daria's Room
Daria is reading a book when the phone rings. She goes to pick it up.
Daria: Hello?
Spilt screen with Quinn in her room, having picked up the phone at the same moment. She's about to say "Hello" when she hears -
Tom: Hey, Daria? It's Tom.
Tom joins the split screen. Quinn starts to hang up, then changes her mind and listens in.
Daria: Um... hello.
Tom: I just wanted to see how you were doing lately. These last couple of times we've run into each other, we didn't really get the chance to talk.
Daria: No, I suppose we didn't.
Tom: So, how was graduation?
Daria: Tom, you do realize we aren't going out anymore, don't you?
Tom: Does that mean we can't ever talk again?
Daria: No, but it does mean you should stop showing up everywhere I go.
Tom: Hey, I wanted some pizza, that's all. It's not like that's unusual behavior. And I was at the library doing some research.
Daria: On Bromwell? Come on, your whole family went to Bromwell. Why would you need to consult the library?
Tom: Maybe I wanted some objective information. Hey, how do I know you're not the one following me around?
Daria: That's ludicrous. Why would I do that? I'm the one who broke up with you, remember?