Crash!

     Trent mumbled and went back to sleep.

     Crash!

     Trent sat bolt upright and tried to orient himself.

     Crash!

     Cursing, Trent slipped on his pants, stumbled sleepily downstairs and walked out the back door. His mother was there with a big pile of ceramic and pottery works. As he watched, she picked one up and threw it against a tarp draped over a large rock.

     Crash!

     When Amanda picked up the next item, Trent recognized it.

     "No-ooo!" He shouted, lunging for her.

     Crash!

     "Oh, hello, Trent. What's the matter?" Amanda slipped off her headphones and looked at him with the neglectful indulgence that she reserved for her offspring.

     Trent sighed. "That vase was a birthday present to you, from Janey."

     "Really?" Amanda looked at the fragments. "Oh dear. I guess I forgot. When did she make it?"

     Trent felt an unaccustomed wave of anger. "She was ten. I guess you never really looked at it."

     Amanda gestured vaguely in the direction of her studio. "I was so busy that week."

     "Yeah-" Trent bit off his retort. It would just be wasted on her. With Amanda, her art came first. She didn't really understand why anyone could have a problem with that.

     "Well, I'll use the fragments and it'll be reborn as something new." Amanda smiled, slipped on her headphones and smashed another piece.

     Unwillingly, Trent looked up at Janey's window. Sure enough, Jane was looking back down at him with a defeated expression. She shook her head and slid the window closed.

     "Damn..." Trent sighed again. Janey had almost no relationship with her parents. As the Lane children grew up, the younger ones had been left to the older ones to raise. By the time Jane's turn had come, her parents had been on the road so long that they had seemingly forgotten how to connect. It hadn't been easy for him, either, but he had at least gotten to know his father a little. Trent thought that his father was the ultimate flake. To Jane, her father was an odd sort of visitor who sometimes brought her strange presents, but mostly ignored her.

     Trent was unembarrassed about living under the parental roof, primarily because he figured that they owed him. He had to be there to look after Janey.

     "Janey's almost ready to leave home, Mom. When she does, I'll be gone too. I wouldn't smash any more keepsakes, if I were you." Trent looked at her stiff back, turned and walked away.

     Crash! Crash! Crash!

     Unable to get back to sleep, Trent decided to do his monthly chore. He put on his greasy coveralls and walked out to his old Plymouth. He put the front wheels up on a pair of cinderblocks, applied a grease gun to the suspension and steering gear, changed the oil and topped off all of the various fluids. He was sprawled over the raised fender with his feet off the ground, trying to thread in a newly gapped sparkplug, when he felt eyes on him. He extracted himself, turned and his tense expression melted into a welcoming smile.

     "Hey, Daria."

     "Hi, Trent. Taking care of baby?" Daria smiled back at him, then blushed, prettily.

     Trent coughed nervously and turned it into a laugh. "Yeah, a beached baby whale. Jane's up in her room right now. I'll go fetch her for you, so you don't have to talk to my mom."

     Daria raised her eyebrows. "Do I embarrass you guys?"

     "No, she does," he deadpanned.

     Daria looked at him for a beat, then laughed. "Sure, Trent, go ahead. I know all about that."

     Trent put down his socket wrench and wiped his greasy hands on an old grocery sack. "Be right back, Daria," he said as he trotted to the front door.

     "Take your time." Daria watched his retreating form. When he was out of sight, she let out her breath. "Woah. Nice coveralls, Trent."

     "Just think, he's completely naked underneath them!"

     "Ahk!" Shocked, Daria spun around to see Jane, grinning at her.

     "Window shopping?" Jane laughed.

     "Damn! What's the big idea, sneaking up on me like that?" Daria blushed and turned away in a haze of intense embarrassment.

     "Now don't get a rash, Daria. I just happened to walk around from the back yard. You were the one that was too distracted to hear me." Jane smirked at her friend. "Maybe I misunderstood. Perhaps it's the coveralls that you like."

     Daria groaned with embarrassment. "Say one word, Jane, one single little syllable to him about this and they'll be finding pieces of you on the moon."

     "Relax, Daria. My lips are sealed. Jo-Jo the Oblivious Boy will never get a hint from me that you find the sight of him bent over the fender of his dinosaur-mobile, irresistible." Jane started to laugh at her own wit and almost swallowed her tongue when she saw Trent standing behind her by the corner of the house, arms crossed, listening. Thankfully, Daria was still facing away from him.

     Trent fixed Jane with his eyes and shook his head, reprovingly. He looked at Daria, smiled and then faded back around the corner.

     "See that he doesn't. Life is humiliating enough as it is without this constant-" Daria abruptly shut up as she heard Trent calling for Jane.

     Trent came back around the corner. "Oh, there you are. Mission accomplished, Daria. Sort of."

     "Um, Thanks." Daria was still embarrassed, so she clamed up.

     "So, what are you two doing today, Daria?" Trent wanted to put Daria at her ease.

     "Well, I was gonna go look at some cars today, but my dad backed out at the last minute." Daria's embarrassment began to fade.

     "I'm sure that Trent would be happy to help you out, Daria." Jane smirked as Daria smothered a gasp. Trent's rare smile hadn't gone unnoticed.

     Trent, nonchalantly eyeing his partially reassembled engine, shrugged. "Sure, I've got nothing else to do today. Max is sick and Jesse's scouting for new gigs over in Springdale, so there aren't any gigs this weekend. If you like, I'll drive you around, Daria."

     Daria blushed again. "Um, thanks. That'd be nice."

     Jane smiled even wider. "It's too bad that I can't go with you. For some reason, Amanda's decided to teach me how to work her kiln today."

     Trent looked exasperated and Daria grew even more expressionless.

     "Really?" Trent hoped that it was true. Maybe Amanda would finally realize that she had a talented daughter. "Daria, I'm gonna have to finish this up and shower, so it'll be about an hour and a half."

     Daria nodded. "That's fine, Trent. I'll just hang around with Jane until you're ready." She turned to Jane. "Do you mind if I use your bathroom?"

     "Go ahead." Jane smiled at her friend. "Don't worry about my mom. It looks like she's flipped out, but she's really just smashing old pottery so that she can reuse the fragments."

     "It must be nice to have an acceptable explanation for the deranged behavior of one's parental units." Daria grew even more deadpan. "I wish I could think of one." Daria turned and walked to the house.

     Jane's eyes widened. Trent was unmistakably ogling Daria as she walked away.

     "Ooh, so you really do like her!" Jane said, a little shocked.

     Trent glanced at his sister. "Sure I like her. Daria's cool. She 'gets' me. I can talk to her." Trent frowned at Jane. "I can't seem to do it without you popping up and taunting her about it, though. Do us all a favor and lay off, alright?" Trent grinned at her offended look and then got back to work on his car.

     Jane shrugged. It had always been amusing to throw the two apparently emotionless beings together and watch Daria try and deal with her huge crush on Trent. Jane didn't quite know what to make of Trent actually reciprocating. Daria was just so different from the bimbos he usually went for. It bothered her. Daria would get over the crush, but if there was nothing real there to replace it...

     Jane looked worriedly at Trent as he slotted in a new air filter. Daria had very sharp claws. Underneath the cool facade, Trent was a sensitive guy. If she got angry when the real Trent didn't measure up to the one in her imagination, she might unthinkingly lacerate him. He could get some interesting mental scars out of it.

     After he showered, Trent was rummaging around in his closet for clothes. "Dammit, now I've got nothing to wear."

     Jane, passing by his door, stuck her head in and grinned at him. "Just stick a flower behind your ear and go in the towel. I'm sure that Daria won't mind it a bit."

     "Very funny." Trent kicked a pile of laundry that was laying in his corner and recoiled from the smell. "Damn cigarettes. I can't put these back on." The bars Trent usually played were always full of smoke.

     Jane walked over to his closet. "You know, Trent, if you actually washed some clothes instead of waiting for me... How about this?" Jane pulled out Trent's suit.

     "My suit? That's for weddings, court and funerals." Trent shrugged and took the hanger from her. "What the hell. You can forget the tie, though. I just hope Daria likes the Miami Vice look.

     Jane looked at him with an unreadable expression. "Trent?"

     Trent turned back to her. "Yeah, Janey?"

     "Be careful with Daria." Jane looked away.

     Puzzled, Trent furrowed his brow. "What exactly are you saying, Janey? You know that I would never hurt Daria!"

     Jane walked to the door and turned back to him. "I know. It's you that I was worried about. Don't forget to comb your hair, Mr. Butterfly."

     Jane walked away, leaving Trent mystified.

     What's got in to her? Mr. Butterfly? Trent wondered. He laughed and put on his suit. Good name for a band.

     Daria and Trent crisscrossed Lawndale, looking in car lots and visiting private sellers. By six o'clock, Daria had decided on one. When they went back to the lot, it was closed.

     "Damn, it's too late." Trent looked at her. "I guess I could give you a ride over here tomorrow, Daria."

     Daria smiled at him. The ice had been well broken by a day spent together and Daria was getting more comfortable in his presence. "Thanks, but I'm having second thoughts about it. It's just too expensive for a ten year old car. I really do appreciate all the help though, Trent. I hate riding the bus."

     Trent coughed, then managed to speak. "That's what friends are for, Daria." Trent's stomach suddenly let out a loud growl. "Oops, time to feed the bear. Want to have dinner with me?"

     "Uhm, okay, Trent. I'd like that very much." Daria's eyes widened. Did this mean that she was going out with Trent on a date? Nah, thought Daria. Just feeding the bear.

     Trent whipped across into the left lane and turned into the parking lot of Bob's restaurant and lounge.

     The waitress greeted Trent like an old friend and they were immediately seated, even though the dinner crowd was to the overflow point.

     Trent passed Daria a menu, but didn't look at his. "Everything on there is good, especially the fish, Daria."

     Daria pushed the menu back. "You order, Trent. You seem to know the place pretty well." Daria hesitated. "I want to pay, though."

     Trent laughed. "You can pay next time. Don't worry, Daria. I got it."

     "But you've driven me all over town, Trent. At least let me pay for the gas." Daria hated the idea of being a sponge.

     Trent looked at Daria and smiled. Most of the girls that he went out with relentlessly chiseled away at him. "Relax, Daria. I can afford it. Besides, I happen to like your company."

     Daria twitched in shock and then reddened. "T- Thanks, Trent. I like you too." Daria suddenly giggled.

     "What's so funny?"

     "Nothing." She laughed.

     "Come on Daria."

     "I was just thinking that I'll probably spill something, or embarrass myself somehow." Daria looked away and felt a stirring of nervousness. Why had she admitted that?

     "Well hey, Daria, it's only me. I sing 'Ice Box Woman' in public. You can't get much more embarrassing than that. I just hope that I don't drool, or forget to use the fork." Trent wished that Daria would get over her nervousness. It seemed like he had to start over from scratch every time he met her.

     "I wouldn't care about that." Daria looked away. "How do you do it, Trent? Get up there in front of everybody like that without being nervous?"

     Trent laughed incredulously and then decided to answer the question. "I didn't, at first, Daria." Trent searched for words. "When I first got on stage I used to pretend that I was someone else. Then one day I just didn't need to any more."

     "It still impresses me that you can be so relaxed looking when you get up there." Daria successfully fought down another blush. "I get so stiff whenever I have to speak in public. I read a story in a coffee house once and I don't think that I ever looked at the audience after I got started."

     Trent laughed. "Janey told me all about that. She even showed me the story in the paper. You did so well that you started a riot!"

     Daria rolled her eyes. "The football team got a little overexcited. I wrote a story that was calculated to appeal to the semi-moronic and I hit my target all to well."

     Trent looked at her thoughtfully. "You must be a really good writer. Have you ever written any songs?"

     "No. I never saw any point. All I know how to play is the harmonica, and you can't sing and play a harmonica at the same time." Daria suddenly realized that she wasn't nervous anymore. She smiled at Trent, happily.

     Trent gulped and gasped at the same time, setting off a coughing spell.

     "Are you all right, Trent?" Daria looked at him with concern. He was flushed and seemed to be having trouble breathing. What could be the matter?

     "Uhm, yeah, Daria." Trent cleared his throat. "Just embarrassing myself."

     Daria didn't quite know what to make of that. She opened her mouth to inquire further and was interrupted by the arrival of the waitress.

     "Well, are you kids ready to order?" The waitress was a pretty woman in her early forties. She gave Trent a conspiratorial smile.

     Trent smiled back in relief. "Charlene! This is Daria." He turned back to Daria. "Daria, Charlene taught me how to wait tables."

     Charlene rolled her eyes. "I tried to teach him. I'm afraid that Trent's talents lie more in the kitchen."

     "Really? I didn't know that you had a regular job, Trent." Daria said, surprised.

     "It's just part time, until the band takes off." Trent was embarrassed.

     Charlene smiled sympathetically at Trent and turned to Daria. "Chef Raul want's to nominate Trent to attend his old Cordon Bleu school in New Orleans. He thinks that Trent has the gift."

     "Wow! That's impressive!" Daria beamed at him.

     Trent laughed. "I hate to disappoint him, but I just don't see myself as a chef."

     Charlene shrugged. "What's it gonna be, then?"

     "Rock star!" Trent grinned at the two women.

     "Very funny. I mean what do you want to eat?" Charlene's eyes twinkled.

     "Oh, I think we'll have the special." Trent smiled back at Daria. "What do you want to drink?"

     "Iced tea, please." Daria wondered what the special was.

     It turned out to be breaded halibut and potato medallions. Daria normally hated fish, but it was surprisingly good.

     After dinner, when he pulled up in front of her house to drop Daria off, Trent made an odd request. "Please, don't tell Janey about my cooking gig. I'd never hear the end of it."

     Daria shrugged. "Okay, Trent. I won't say anything about it. You know, I don't see anything at all wrong with being a chef. They make good money and I think it's kind of cool."

     "Me neither, Daria. I just don't want to get mouse-trapped into it. I want to really try, before I give up on a musical career." Trent looked at her and felt a pang of worry.

     "Well, thanks for dinner and a wonderful day, Trent." Daria looked at him and blushed.

     Trent smiled. "My pleasure. So, I guess I'll see you around, then?"

     "What? Sure, I'll be over." In a happy daze, Daria opened the door and got out.

     "Bye, Daria." He smiled at her and pulled away.

     That Sunday Trent was sitting on his stool and strumming his guitar. He knew that thinking was usually a mistake, but he also knew that he couldn't stop. He was confused and rattled by the whole Daria thing. He'd just wanted to take her out because she made him laugh and he was in need of cheering up. Trent hadn't expected to feel so attached.

     He sighed. Girls were for fun and games, not to be taken seriously. You didn't let them affect your plans. Daria was... different. Dangerous. She was making him loose his edge, take his eye off the prize. Now he understood what Janey had tried to tell him. Trent knew that he had to back off from Daria, but somehow she'd invaded his mind. That smile. Trent sighed gustily, again. He knew that he was on the brink. It was just chemistry, he told himself. She was magnetic. Time to throttle way back.

     The phone rang and Trent gratefully abandoned his thinking.

     It was Jesse. "Hey man it's all set!"

     Trent sat bolt upright. "Eight hundred a gig?"

     "Yeah, that's our end. He gets the other hundred commission." Jess hesitated. "But we've got to handle expenses too."

     "Eleven percent for him. That's a little high." Trent frowned to himself.

     "The dude is organized, man. He's got maps in his office with dots on them where the gigs are. We just drive from dot to dot and play. He calls it a circuit and the good thing about it is that we get back home Monday through Wednesday." Jesse was a little overwhelmed by the maps.

     "It won't be worth it unless we can get at least four gigs a week," warned Trent.

     "What?" Jesse was dumbfounded.

     "Four gigs'll give us eight hundred a week, each, if we cheat the taxman. That's enough to spend $250 a week on cheap motels and gas and still come out ahead of a straight job. Any less and the band won't last." Trent stared off into space and calculated. "If we pay tax, it won't be enough."

     Jesse wanted it to happen. "We could double up, cut costs. For instance we could all share a ride and-"

     Trent laughed. "No way, man. We'd be at each other's throats in no time. Being on the road is bad enough without having to see each other all the time."

     Jesse sighed. "Yeah, you're right. You'd better come talk to this dude then. I don't know why you sent me."

     Trent coughed and said, "Is he there?"

     "No, I'm on a payphone in the mall," said Jesse.

     "I sent you so I wouldn't get rolled, Jess. You had a number which I didn't think he'd meet and he did. I'd have let it drop. Now I know the ballpark and we aren't obligated yet. I can squeeze him a little." Trent smiled to himself. He'd act like he hadn't spoken with Jess at all.

     "Cool. You better find out what he meant by expenses," said Jesse.

     "I'll be there in about three hours," Trent said, plans flashing through his head.

     "Right. I'll be eating at the Country Kitchen then. Bye." Jess hung up.

     Trent leapt to his feet and headed for his car. It's all starting to happen! he excitedly thought.

     Deep in thought, Daria walked down the main hall at LHS. She had gotten a ride to school that morning from Trent. He'd picked her up as she walked along, and then told her he was leaving town for a while. Daria had never had a boyfriend, but she had the uncomfortable feeling that she had been dumped. But why? Why would he have even been there at that hour? What did it all mean?

     Sandi saw Daria's abstracted expression and smirked. "Look at that. She looks just like Stacy did after she met that guy, Jack."

     Tiffany laughed and Stacy looked unbearably sad for a second.

     Sandi was curious enough to talk to Daria. Usually she didn't, because it was too expensive. "Hey, Quinn's cousin, are those new glasses?"

     Daria walked right past them, oblivious.

     "That girl is sooo weird..." Tiffany stared after Daria in puzzlement.

     Quinn walked up to the group and smiled. "Hiii, guys," she said.

     "Quinn, what's the matter with your cousin?" Stacy inquired. "When Sandi talked to her, she just ignored us."

     Quinn briefly panicked. "Uhm, she must not have taken her pills today. Just ignore her. She'll snap out of it later this afternoon."

     Sandi looked down her nose at Quinn. "I hope that she's not like, crazy or anything."

     Quinn laughed nervously. "Daria's completely harmless. Just a geek." Damn, thought Quinn, why are they talking about Daria? "Did you guys see the awards show last night? I can't believe what some of those people were wearing..." Quinn successfully managed to change the subject.

     "Where were you this morning?" asked Jane.

     Daria started. "Oh, just... Well, I got a ride to school this morning, Jane."

     Jane looked at her, oddly. "You're blushing. Daria blushing can only mean one thing." A wicked grin spread over Jane's face. "Trent gave you a ride to school."

     Daria frowned and looked away. "He told me that he wouldn't be around Lawndale that much anymore."

     Jane frowned. Trent had been acting weird since that Saturday. He had set his alarm clock and rushed out of the house in a tearing hurry. He was up to something alright, but picking up Daria had obviously been planned. "From the way he was acting I kind of thought-"

     "Trent made it abundantly clear that he's not interested. I'd appreciate it if you'd just drop the subject, Jane." Daria turned and walked rapidly away.

     Jane stared after her, mouth open. What the hell was going on? They were both acting like they'd broken up after they'd been going out for ten years.

     Trent took the band on the road that Wednesday and Daria didn't set foot in the Lane house while he was home after that. Jane couldn't get a single word out of either one of them about it.

     Daria woke with a start. Her heart was pounding and she was soaked with sweat. She tried to remember the nightmare, but it faded quickly. She got up and walked to her desk. A small wall calendar confirmed the date. She walked to the bathroom, stripped, examined herself in the mirror and sighed. Still short, plain and well, maybe not quite so flat any more. "Congratulations on surviving to legal adulthood in the Morgendorffer family sideshow. Happy Birthday," she said to her pale, unhappy reflection. Daria dreaded birthdays, with good reason.

     Daria's day was surreal. At breakfast she expected someone to say something, but no one did. Quinn whined and complained nonstop about her terrible need for new jewelry to mach her new dress that went so well with her latest boyfriend's new Mazda. Helen just breezed through with the phone in her ear and waved at Quinn. Daria used her iron will to suppress a pang of sadness when Helen ignored her.

     "So, Daddy, can I have a hundred dollars, pleezzzee, to get the outfit I need?" Quinn smiled fetchingly as she expertly played Jake.

     "Dammit, Quinn! I'm not a machine!" Jake caught himself, suppressed his cheapness and smiled weakly back at Quinn. "I guess that you can take an advance on your allowance, if you really need it." Jake never remembered Quinn's advances when the first came.

     "Thanks, Daddy!" The instant she had the money in her hand Quinn was ready to go. "Well I gotta go to school."

     Jake got engrossed in his paper and Quinn scowled at Daria.

     Eyeing the now oblivious Jake, Quinn turned to Daria. "Daria, I don't want you following me again. Being seen with you could hurt my popularity." She hesitated a little uneasily when Daria made no reply, then left.

     Daria sat, stunned. It wasn't a joke. They had all completely forgotten her birthday, again. Daria decided to drop a little hint.

     "Uhm... Dad?"

     Jake ignored her.

     "Dad, I think you guys may have forgotten my-" Daria began.

     Jake slammed down his paper. "Do you girls think I'm made of money? Dammit, Daria, can't I give Quinn a little help without having to match it all the time? Do you need a damn dress too?" He riffled a torn twenty dollar bill out of his wallet and slapped it down in front of her. "That's the best I can do right now! Now I have to go to the bank this afternoon!" The paper came back up like a fortress wall.

     Daria felt her eyes fill. Dreadfully ashamed of her emotional weakness, she rushed out the door, leaving Jake quivering with fury behind his paper. A few minutes later he curiously picked up his ripped twenty dollar bill, shrugged and pocketed it.

     The day went from bad to worse. Jane was out sick with food poisoning, and Amanda wouldn't put her on the phone. Daria trudged from class to class and not one person said a single word to her all day long.

     When school ended, Daria walked over to see Jane. She knocked and knocked but no one answered the door. Trent was on the road with the band, Amanda was probably lost in an artistic fugue and Jane was undoubtedly in bed. Depressed beyond words, Daria took the bus to the city library and sat reading Edgar Allen Poe until she had to take the bus home at eight.

     Without much hope, Daria walked into the house and looked around. Helen was still at work. Jake was sprawled across the couch, martini in hand, nearly asleep, watching the Pigskin Channel. Quinn was dressed for a date and alternately talked on the phone and paced to the door and back as she watched anxiously for her date's car.

     "Daria, I'll give you twenty dollars if you promise not to answer the door tonight." Quinn had her hands on her hips and was glaring at Daria.

     "Why? Are you expecting the prize patrol with a check or something?" Daria tried to snap out of her depression.

     "God, Daria, why do you think? You look really bad today. I don't want Chet to know that I have a relative like you." Quinn shook her head in disgust. Daria's eyes were red and her glasses magnified them freakily. It almost looked like Daria had been crying. She must have an allergy or something, Quinn mused. "Like, go to your little cell if you're going to be all gloomy." She thrust a bill at Daria and strode away, phone at her ear, busily juggling calls from her admirers.

     Kind of a crappy birthday present but at least it's something, thought Daria. She looked at the bill. It was taped together. Quinn had paid her with Jake's go-away bill.

     Jake snorted and began snoring softly on the couch. Daria walked over, put the torn twenty in his shirt pocket and took his martini glass from its precarious perch. She sniffed it, made a face and on impulse, knocked it back. It was very strong. Gagging, Daria sat the glass down and went to her bedroom. She got ready for bed and then opened her diary and wrote a short but maudlin synopsis of the day.

     The phone rang and Daria ignored it. It was never for her, anyway. After five rings she picked up just before the answering machine would have.

     "Hello?" Daria was still engrossed in her book.

     "Daria?"

     Daria smiled. "Amy! How are you?" Amy was her favorite relative and it seemed to be mutual.

     "I just got back from Cancun and I seemed to recall that you had a birthday this month. Did your present arrive on time?"

     "No sign of it yet, Amy. I did get your email. Thanks for remembering."

     "Damn! Well, how was the party?"

     "Exactly like last year." Daria felt like crying and was bitterly ashamed of it.

     Amy caught it immediately. "I was in Hong Kong last year. How did you celebrate your birthday Daria?" Amy knew that there was something wrong.

     Daria sighed. "you're going to make me say it aren't you."

     "Spill it, 007."

     "They all forgot. Once again, it was the worst day of the year." Daria savagely bit back a sob. "Dad yelled at me, Quinn told me that I was an embarrassing freak and Mom didn't say one word to me all day." Daria felt relief. Her voice was normal.

     "I'm sorry, Daria." Amy sighed. Daria sounded terrible. "I should have called from the boat and reminded Helen. She's just so busy running around with her head up her ass, being a good little slave for that lawfirm-" Amy broke off. It wasn't her job to make excuses for her scatterbrained sisters anymore. "Look, Daria, I know how you're feeling right now. The same thing happened to me, once. Would you like to come and stay with me for a while?"

     "Yes." Daria was shocked to feel a tear trickle down her face.

     Amy talked for a long time, telling stories about her odd and eccentric boyfriends. By the time they were done, Daria was immensely cheered up. She said goodbye, thought about a summer in LA and quickly fell asleep, reading Poe.

     Trent pulled up in front of the Morgendorffer house at ten. He had been driving for a long time on short sleep and he was tired. As he walked up the path, the door flew open.

     Quinn grimaced. It was beginning to look as if she had been stood up again. "Oh god, not you again. I'm not going out with you so why don't you just qui-"

     "Hey, Quinn. Where's Daria?" Trent averted his eyes. He didn't want to give her the slightest encouragement.

     Quinn sneered at him. "She's in her room. Just go right on up." She looked at his rusting Plymouth. "Can't you park that thing down the street?"

     Trent brushed past her, paused, warily surveyed the snoring Jake and then advanced up the stairs.

     Quinn looked after him with dislike. "God, trust Daria to have a joke boyfriend with a joke car."

     Trent knocked on Daria's door and the door swung open, so he called out and then stuck his head in.

     "Daria?"

     She was asleep on top of her covers. He walked over to her and took a long, admiring, look. Her glasses were askew and her short terrycloth shorts and T shirt showed off shapely legs and a dynamite figure. He caught himself and shook his head. It wouldn't do for her to wake up and find him standing next to her bed with a big woody. He laughed at himself.

     "Daria? Hey, Daria, wake up. It's me, Trent."

     She softly snored.

     He loudly coughed, shrugged, put the two huge, hand painted birthday cards and gift wrapped CD's on her night table and gently shook her shoulder.

     Daria was deeply asleep, making up for the sleep she had lost the previous nights. She didn't budge.

     Smelling alcohol on her breath, he smiled and shrugged again. She must have been to a birthday party. He stood gazing at her face for a while, then he suddenly removed her glasses and took the book off of her bed. "You're just too beautiful." He felt a tremendous attraction to her and he knew it was time to go. "Happy birthday, Daria. I've got to get out of here before I do something really stupid, like fall in love with you," he said, turning off her light. He paused, sighed, and left.

     When the door clicked behind him Daria smiled in her sleep. "Trent," she murmured and sighed, tremulously.

     On the drive home, Trent felt a wave of intense depression wash over him. Daria was obviously one of the special people. She wouldn't put up with a bum musician for long. If he made it with Daria, he'd have to go legit. Best to try to put her out of his mind, concentrate on the music, at least for a couple of years. If he hit the big time...

     Yeah, right, he thought scornfully. He frowned and turned on the radio. Soon he was singing along with his favorite commercial. "Be... All that you can be... In the US Army-"

     Daria's eyes flew open when her alarm clock clicked. She hated the awful noise that the thing made, so she almost always turned it off before it started. She reached for her glasses and didn't find them in their usual place. Getting up, she groped around and finally found them on her desk. Putting them on, Daria was pleasantly mystified to discover a pair of elaborate birthday cards and gifts from both Jane and Trent sitting there on her nightstand.

     Smiling, Daria went to breakfast. Composing her face, she made some cereal and was ignored by her family, as usual. Helen actually ate, but her one attempt at conversation with Daria was interrupted by the telephone.

     Quinn came downstairs and began complaining about her date not showing up.

     Daria was ignoring Quinn's incessant chatter when she caught something in passing.

     "What did you say about Trent?" Daria wondered if she had misheard.

     "I said, Daria, that you need to make him park that thing he drives away from the house. What if someone thought it was ours? I had to stand outside next to it watching for Chet for at least ten minutes last night. It was so embarrassing..." Quinn went on at length about how embarrassing Daria was to her.

     Daria tuned Quinn out and felt the shock roll through her. Even Quinn or Jake would have noticed birthday cards if they were asked to deliver them, so it must have been Trent who put them on the nightstand. Had Trent been the one who turned out the light and put her glasses on the desk? She remembered her dream, Trent kissing her and calling her beautiful. Daria shivered and smiled to herself. Maybe he did know that she was alive.

     Daria left before Quinn and walked to school alone, as usual, completely unaware that she was smiling.

     Jamie was jogging along the other side of the street trying to get to Quinn's on time to carry her bags, and was transfixed by Daria's smile. He ran right into a streetlight and got a bloody nose.

     Jane lay on her bed and groaned to herself. At least she didn't have the dry heaves anymore. She had nearly vomited up her toenails yesterday and she was still feeling sick. She wished that Trent would come and check on her. The wastebasket near the bed stank of vomit and Jane didn't need anything upsetting her right now.

     Jane sighed and suppressed her irritation. Trent had abandoned his last gig and left the band in Hadlyville when he had learned that she was sick and that Amanda was catching a plane that night. Jane had been in a bad way, covered in vomit and delirious when he got home. He had cleaned her up and patently helped her until the dry heaves had passed. Then he had finished her birthday card for her and delivered it to Daria.

     "Hi, Jane. I hope you don't mind. No one answered the door so I just came in." Daria stood in her doorway.

     Speak of the devil, thought Jane.

     "I'm glad you did. Hey, happy birthday, Daria."

     Daria was already removing the soiled bin liner from the offending can. "Thanks for the card, Jane. I really appreciate it." She took the liner away and soon returned with a fresh one.

     "So what did you score?" Jane felt bad about not going to see her, but she had been too sick.

     Daria flushed a little and shrugged. "Oh, you know, the usual."

     Jane smiled. "Underwear? Scuba tanks? What's usual?"

     Daria looked away. "Well I got a couple of nice cards and a pair of great CD's from the Lane's."

     Jane was puzzled. "Come on, Daria, they had to have gotten you something. What was it?"

     Daria sighed. "Everyone forgot again, Jane. Everyone but you and Trent, anyway."

     Jane was scandalized. "I can't believe it! What do you mean by again?"

     Daria didn't meet her eyes. "A wise woman once told me that birthdays were totally artificial holidays invented by the greeting card industry to stimulate the economy. So it's really not a big deal, Jane."

     "I only said that because I didn't want any kind of sad, pathetic attempt at a birthday party." Jane looked depressed. "They forgot you last year too, didn't they?" Jane was sad for her friend. She had assumed that Daria's parents were better than hers because they were home every day, but now she wondered.

     Daria nodded uncomfortably. "What the hell. Missing the birthday isn't so bad, Jane. In eighteen years they've forgotten four birthdays. That's a success rate of 77%, a solid 'pass' in anyone's gradebook. The trouble is that they'll remember soon and Mom will decide that we need to bond. Talk about your horrorfest. All I need right now is to be cross examined about my life for three hours by lawyer Morgendorffer. Ugh." Daria winced.

     "Which birthdays did they forget?" Jane knew that she was prying, but she was fascinated by the dynamics of a 'normal' family.

     "They forgot the last four." Daria was tired of the topic. "Big deal. If we lived here a couple hundred years ago they would have already swapped me for a horse or something."

     Jane laughed. "Why didn't you say anything?

     Daria flushed. "They never forget Quinn. I'll be dammed if I'm going to make it easy for them. It doesn't matter anymore. Let's just forget about it."

     "Okay, Daria. At least Trent said happy birthday to you. That must have been pretty nice," Jane was still unsure about where the Daria-Trent thing was. Neither would say a word about it.

     Daria shrugged. "Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. I was asleep. He sat the cards on my nightstand. All I know is that Trent was the only one besides you who made an effort. I'm grateful."

     Jane smiled. Daria had let a large dollop of honey creep into her voice when she said Trent's name. "To bad he didn't think to bring his spare horse."

     Daria looked glum. "Last night I would have taken a hamster."

     Jane heard a distinctive creak in the hall and knew that Trent was passing outside her door. She coughed and enunciated clearly, "So tell me the truth, Daria, do you like Trent at all?"

     Daria sighed then shrugged. She was feeling very close to her friend and decided to throw caution to the wind. "What the hell. Sure, I like him a lot. He's smart, handsome and very cool. He's the only person that I know who really has his life together. What's not to like?"

     Daria paused and took a deep breath. In a small voice she continued, "The problem is that I'm not exactly the flygirl type that he's looking for. One of these days he'll be a big star, dating half a dozen models and I'll be living in an apartment with four cats, reading about him in the style section of the paper." A look of sadness flickered across her features.

     Jane laughed incredulously. "Trent? Has his life together? Are you kidding?"

     Daria stiffened and launched into a fierce defense. "Trent knows exactly what he wants and he's going for it! Who else do you know who you can say that about? Trent makes his own way. He's a natural leader and he can think for himself. Most of all, he has the courage to take a chance. He might not succeed in being a rock star, but at least he'll have tried. Trent's smart, he'll succeed in something. Real winners learn to take chances, and Trent isn't afraid to do that. He's already a success, and one day everybody will know it!"

     Jane marveled at the conviction that Daria conveyed. She believed in Trent. Jane saw a shadow pass under the door and heard the floor creak again. He was leaving without knocking, which meant that he had heard. Now the ball was firmly in Trent's court. "Okay, Daria, lighten up!" Jane laughed. "I happen to agree with you. I just wanted to hear your opinion."

     Daria shrugged again. "Well, you got it, for what it's worth. Usually the misery chick charges for that sort of thing, but since its you..."

     "So, Daria, why not take a lesson from Quinn? Maybe if you can send the 'rents on a big enough guilt trip you can get some wheels out of this whole sorry mess." Jane didn't want Daria hearing any telltale creaks, so she distracted her.

     Trent went to the basement, plugged in his guitar and began rocking the house. He was filled with happiness, his wavering belief in himself recharged and reinforced a hundred times. As he hit a particularly bone jarring riff he shouted for joy. Daria still liked him.

     Upstairs, Jane clapped her hands over her ears and felt her bed vibrating. Trent had definitely heard everything and was feeling pretty good about it. She felt a sense of triumph. It was time for another nudge. "Daria!"

     Trent stopped playing.

     "Thank god, I thought the windowpanes were going to shatter." Daria pulled at her earlobe. "If he goes bust in the music business he can always patent the sonic paint stripper."

     Jane laughed, then put on a pained expression. "Daria, I'm feeling better but not that much better. I need to sleep."

     Daria stood. "Get well, Jane. Call if you need anything. I'll move along now and let you rest."

     "Daria, could you please stop by the basement and ask Trent to lay off the paint stripping experiment for a while?"

     Daria hesitated then mumbled, "Sure. Later, Jane."

     Jane smiled at her retreating back. She knew that Trent was depressed and hurting. He needed someone solid and smart, someone who could look after him. Unlike the stupid, ineffectual groupies that Trent usually dated, Daria had the brains, loyalty and nerve to make sure that he didn't let himself get hurt.

     Trent could do a lot for Daria too. She needed someone who would love her unconditionally, make her feel valued and appreciate her dark, sardonic nature. Jane knew that Daria marched to the beat of a different drummer. If she added a guitarist to her life, the two might just boogaloo along happily forever. It was frustrating to see two emotionally blocked people that she loved, who so obviously had feelings for each other missing the connection so often.

     Trent was sitting in front of the reel to reel, listening through his headphones to the track that he had just laid down. He jumped when someone touched his shoulder. Turning, he froze as he unexpectedly looked into Daria's eyes.

     "Hi Trent." Daria blushed.

     Trent cleared his throat and forced his mouth to work. "Hey, Daria." He stood, paused awkwardly and continued. "I wanted to say happy birthday last night but I couldn't wake you up."

     Daria hit him with a brilliant smile.

     He blinked and swallowed reflexively. It was totally devastating. Oh, damn, he thought.

     "Trent, I have to tell you something." Daria's face took on a more serious expression.

     "What is it, Daria?" Trent smiled crookedly at her and leaned closer.

     "I just want to say that it means a lot to me that you made an effort." She looked down and flicked her eyes sideways. "Thank you, Trent. Thank you very much."

     "Hey, Daria, I'm glad you liked it. I didn't have much time to shop. It's just one of our promo CDs. You deserve much better." He looked at her and gulped.

     Daria smiled. "It was a great present! Someday when you're a famous rock star I'll be able to drop your name. When no one believes me I'll casually pull out your CD."

     Trent laughed. He already knew that there was no way that he would ever let Daria out of his life. "Yeah and they'll all laugh and say 'Was he really that bad?' And still think you're making it up. I'll tell you what, Daria. When I'm a famous rock star I'll ride to your house on a flying pig and tell them myself."

     Daria shook her head. "Don't say things like that. You sound good, Trent. Not perfect yet, but undeniably better than you did. Just keep up the incremental improvements and one day soon your good band will be a great band." She smiled sadly. "You can't loose, Trent, You're already on the elevator. Just keep playing and don't get off until you're at the top."

     Trent looked thoughtful. "Elevator Music. Hmmm. Great name for a production company." Without thinking, he reached out and took her hand.

     Daria stared at him, wide eyed, and he stared back, amazed at his own boldness. It was like his hand had moved on it's own.

     Take a chance! Go for broke! "Daria... Would you like to go to the rock fight with me? It's a week from Saturday over in Benington." It was the first thing that came to mind.

     Daria gasped, then beamed. "I'd love to go, Trent!"

     "Good!" He smiled in relief. It was so hard not to just kiss her. Thinking rapidly, he came up with a plan. "I'm glad. It's a date then. What do you say we go out, get some dinner and talk it over?"

     "So where are we going?" Daria smiled uncertainly at him, clearly still a little wary.

     Trent looked back at her and marveled at how lucky he was. Nobody had grabbed her away while he was off playing the fool. "Bob's. Right back to the scene of the crime, Daria. I've got some things I want to explain."

     Daria shrugged. I'll definitely have to count it as a real date, this time, she thought. His stomach suddenly growled. Or possibly not, she concluded.

     After they arrived and were seated, Trent reached across the table and took her hand. "I missed you, Daria. I'm sorry I ran out on you like that."

     Daria blushed. "We weren't even dating, Trent. Neither one of us did anything wrong."

     Trent shook his head. "I don't believe that and I don't think you really believe that, either."

     Daria looked away. "Damn. Quit reading my mind."

     Trent chuckle-coughed. "I will if you tell me what you're thinking."

     Daria looked at him closely "Cards on the table?"

     Trent nodded. "Showdown."

     Daria felt a little twinge of panic. "Who goes first?"

     "We'll settle this traditionally, in the ancient fashion of the Lanes." Trent said.

     "Okay, rock-paper-scissors it is." Daria smirked.

     "You know our ways well, oh morning villager." Trent was smiling now, the tension broken.

     "They're simple ways, oh blazer of trails." Trent wasn't the only one who could look up the meaning of a name.

     They stared into each others eyes for a long, searching, minute.

     Trent smiled and opened his mouth. "I-"

     "Hey! Trent! And little, um, Darla, isn't it?" Monique looked high as a kite and very skanky.

     Trent groaned in frustration. "Monique! Look, I don't want to sound rude but right now-"

     Monique leaned in on him. "Whadaya say we go back to your place and get naked, snake-boy?"

     Daria couldn't help it. Trent's absolutely shocked and mortified expression was too much. She started to laugh.

     He furiously stood, pulled Monique's sleeve up her arm and looked at the fresh tracks. "God, girl, look at you, you're killing yourself!"

     Daria gulped.

     Monique giggled. "Nah, It's just recreational. I can quit anytime." Her hands were sliding through his defenses, groping at him.

     Trent felt like crying. The first time he'd met her she'd been high. The second time she'd been suicidal. He'd tried to rescue her over and over, but it never stuck. She'd get straight, disappear, then come back all broken, looking for some TLC. "I can't do this again, Monique. I'll drive you to rehab, but I'm just a friend. A platonic friend."

     Monique giggled. "Platonic? Is that some kinky Greek thing? I'll go for it."

     Daria bit her tongue.

     Trent groaned. "Dammit! Look, I'm with Daria now. We're dating! Were on a damn date! This kind of thing doesn't-"

     Monique leered at Daria. "What, you want a threesome? I'll do it if she will, stud muffin!"

     Trent was really angry now. "Why, you-"

     "Trent!" Daria cut him off. The girl was obviously unstable, clearly looking for a fight and he might just send her right over the edge by giving her what she wanted.

     "See! We're gonna have a-"

     "It's time for you to leave, Monique." Daria's tone was low, soothing and reasonable.

     "You bet, sugar pie. Lets-"

     "Go on home Monique. Sleep off the drugs. I'm sure that you're a very nice person without the chemical additives." Daria smiled at her in a friendly way.

     Monique sighed. "To bad. You're a cute couple. We coulda had a real nice time." She walked aimlessly out of the restaurant.

     Trent laid his head on the table. "Please, tell me that was all some sort of awful nightmare."

     Daria was sadly staring after Monique. "It was, Trent. But not ours."

     "You really handled that well, Daria." Trent was awed by her grace, tact and sensitivity.

     Daria shrugged. "I just didn't give her an opening. She's looking for an excuse to do something crazy. Don't let her get a handle on you, or you'll be stuck with a real mess on your hands."

     They ordered, and the chef came out.

     "Trent! Where have you been? I've been looking all over for you!" He twisted his chief's hat, anxiously.

     "Hey Benny, this is Daria." Trent shook the man's hand.

     "Pleased ta meecha, Daria."

     "Daria, this is Chef Benny Raul. He owns Bob's place."

     "Hi. Charlene told me all about you a few weeks ago." Daria smiled, secretly pleased that they didn't have to talk about Monique any more. "Why not Benny's place?"

     Benny laughed. "Do you know how much a new sign costs? I like to buy these places up, turn 'em around and get out in a couple of years. If I changed the names, half of the better restaurants in the state would be Benny's place."

     Benny unsuccessfully tried to get Trent to go to work for him, and then announced that their meal was on the house.

     After the waitress left, Daria decided to head off any more Monique based conversation. "What's the deal with the rock-fight, Trent?"

     Trent brightened up. "Oh! It's live on KROC, and the first prize is ten thousand dollars. A lot of big agents and producers are going to be around there. The second prize is five thousand and I think third is a thousand."

     Daria smiled at him. They were recapturing the mood. "Think you'll win?"

     Trent shrugged uncertainly. "I'd have said no way just a month ago, but since we went on the road, we're practicing more and playing a lot better." He looked somewhat bitter.

     Daria nodded. "How is life on the road, Trent?"

     Trent sighed. "The term 'living hell' comes to mind. We all hate each other and we all hate music, especially our music, but we're getting good. The band's at a critical point. If we stick together I think we've got a shot at the big time."

     They talked about the mechanics of the trip and made a plan. Daria and Trent ate quickly, both worried about the possibility of Monique coming back.

     When Trent pulled up to drop Daria off, he stopped a little way down the road, just out of the direct line of sight of the Morgendorffer house. It was very private there in the twilight as he turned to her. "Daria... "

     Daria looked at him, thrilled. She knew what he wanted. "Yes, Trent?"

     "Do you kiss on a first date?" He looked hopeful.

     "No, Trent." She smiled at the way his face fell.

     "Damn." He sighed.

     "Trent?" She was smiling broadly at him now.

     "Yes, Daria?" He was entranced by her smile.

     Daria laughed. "This isn't our first date. Remember Jane's birthday? And feeding the bear? I'm willing to count those."

     They melted together. Presently the windows began to steam up.

     Stacy Sandi and Tiffany walked out of the Morgendorffer house to Sandi's car.

     Tiffany paused as she opened the door and said, "Like, who's that? Eww, they're practically doing it!"

     Sandi jumped back out of the car. "That's that 'relative' of Quinn's. What a slut!" She grinned nastily.

     Stacy kept a politic silence. She thought the guy was a dream and was a little jealous.

     Quinn opened the front door and looked curiously at her immobile friends.

     Sandi pointed at Trent's Plymouth and smirked.

     Quinn walked out to the car and her jaw dropped as the Plymouth came into view. "Daria?"

     Trent and Daria broke their clinch and Daria got out. She adjusted her clothes, then waved and blew kisses at a grinning Trent as he pulled away. She walked toward her house, fully intending to ignore the fashion naziettes.

     Sandi called out, "Hey, Quinn's cousin!"

     Daria just kept on walking.

     Quinn called out, "Daria!"

     Daria stopped, turned towards them and answered pleasantly, "Yes, Quinn?"

     "Like, why didn't you answer me?" Sandi asked, angrily.

     "I'm sorry, were you addressing me? I only answer to my name, which is 'Daria' or at least some vaguely descriptive hail. Since I am not in fact Quinn's 'cousin' I feel no constraint to acknowledge that particular label. What can I do for you, Sandi?" Daria was still speaking very pleasantly.

     "Not her cousin?" Sandi was entertained. "What are you to her then?"

     Daria looked at Quinn. "That's a pretty good question, but one that I can't answer. The fly in the ointment, I suspect. Well, people to see, places to go, and all that." Daria took another step.

     "Uhm, Daria?" Stacy was eaten with curiosity.

     Daria turned "Yes? Stacy, isn't it?"

     "Yeah. Uh, who was that guy? I don't remember seeing him around before. Does he go to Lawndale?"

     "That was Trent. He graduated a few years ago." Daria wasn't about to give them a scrap.

     "Is he in college?" Stacy was fishing like mad.

     "No." Daria walked rapidly away from the Fashion Club.

     Sandi turned to Quinn. "So if Daria's not really your cousin just what is she? Better tell us the truth now, Quinn." This was too good.

     Quinn scowled.

     Daria walked out of her house and paused to tie her boot. She became aware of a shadow looming over her and looked up.

     "Hi. Your name is Daria, isn't it?" Jamie was waiting for Quinn, but he had been thinking about Daria ever since he brained himself on the light standard. Daria was definitely worth talking to.

     "Hi, Jamie." Daria snugged her bootlace and stood. "Quinn will be out just as soon as she thinks I'm out of sight."

     Jamie smiled, pleased. "You remembered my name!"

     Daria's lip twitched and she favored him with a sympathetic look. "Well you didn't call me 'Quinn's cousin' so I returned the favor."

     Sandi and the Fashion Club pulled up in Sandi's convertible.

     "Hi um, Daria. Is Quinn ready?" Sandi looked at her watch impatiently.

     "Good morning." Daria strode over and looked in to the heavily laden car. "Going on a little unauthorized field trip today, are we?"

     The three girls exchanged furtive glances.

     "Um, no." Sandi looked at Jamie. "Is this another friend of yours?"

     Daria shrugged. "He seems friendly enough. His name is Jamie. J-A-M-I-E. It's not hard to remember at all. He's waiting for Quinn. Usually there're another two hanging around here on the same mission."

     "Oh yeah." Sandi looked at Jamie. "Sorry...guy. Quinn rides with us today." She honked and Quinn came running.

     "Hii, Johnny! Gotta go!" She was in the car and gone before Jamie could get a word out.

     "God damn! What the hell is it with these girls? I feel like the invisible man!" He was angry and hurt.

     Daria sighed and shouldered her book bag. "I'm sorry about that, Jamie. No one should be treated like that."

     Jamie hesitated, pursed his lips and then said firmly, "That was the last time for me. The price just went up too much." He sighed. "Walk you to school, Daria?"

     She shrugged "It's a free country."

     "Can I take those books for you?" Jamie expectantly held out his hand.

     "I think not. I don't need help." Daria started out.

     "I'm not hitting on you, Daria. I was just trying to be polite." Jamie quickly caught up. "That bag looks heavy."

     "It is." Daria looked at him and then nodded. "I suppose I would be grateful if you carried it for me."

     He lifted the bag off her shoulders and smiled. "I can't believe that Quinn is your sister."

     "Sometimes I can't believe it either." Daria looked at him. He was still hurting from Quinn's offhand rejection. "You really have feelings for her, don't you?"

     Jamie shrugged. "Less and less."

     Daria nodded, thoughtfully. "Don't be so hard on yourself. Mentally she's still about twelve. You guys aren't real to her, yet. You should back off for a while. Find a girl that's not so vain."

     Jamie looked at her. "All the good ones are taken."

     Daria, flattered in spite of herself, said, "Open your eyes, Jamie. There are plenty of girls out there."

     Jamie was smiling at her. "You're the first girl that I've met that hasn't treated me like dirt since I was twelve. I thought that was just how things were."

     Daria nodded. "If you lay around with a doormat on your back people tend to step on you. Fact of life number 231. Face it Jamie, you're a nice guy, but it's the smooth bastard that always gets the girl. That's the guy who'll give Quinn her first divorce in about ten years."

     Jamie nodded absently. "So is your boyfriend a smooth bastard?"

     "No, he's a musician," Daria said, looking away. "He can manipulate though. He got me to pierce my belly button, once."

     Jamie laughed incredulously. "You? Sorry, Daria, you just don't look the type."

     "I'm not. Pretty smooth, isn't he?" Daria smiled at the memory.

     They reached the school and halted outside the doors.

     "I liked talking with you, Daria." He handed the bookbag over with a smile. "You're really pretty cool. Let me know if Mr. Smooth slips away."

     "What? Uh, sure, Jamie." She walked inside, flattered.

     "Hello, Daria. Making new friends?" Jane was there, looking pale and thin.

     "Hi, Jane. Just helping the walking wounded."

     "Wasn't that one of Quinn's pet jocks?" Jane raised her eyebrows. This could be trouble.

     "I think she lost that one today. He's had it with being a toy."

     The two girls walked to their lockers.

     "How did things go with Trent yesterday, Daria?" Jane was curious. Trent had been acting oddly last night.

     Daria looked at her. This was too good to pass up. "Okay, I guess. He gave me a ride home, anyway."

     "That's a good sign." Jane was disappointed, but still determined.

     Daria put Jane off all day, refusing to talk about Trent. As soon as she could plausibly get free she called Trent and they schemed.

     After school, Daria went straight home. Quinn had skipped school again and probably wouldn't be home until six. Daria walked up to the door and saw a note. There was a signature-required package waiting for her at the UPS freight terminal. She called just in time and they were able to make an almost immediate delivery.

     Daria signed for the shipping carton and carried it to her room. She opened it and laughed incredulously. It was a guitar in a hard case. Opening the case, she found a note.