Searching for a New Hope

The new girl was quiet and small. She sat at her desk taking notes as the history teacher, Mr. Anthony DeMartino, ranted and raved and generally traumatized an entire generation. The girl wore her auburn hair past her waist; it brushed the seat of her desk every time she moved. Under her faded green jacket, worn unzipped over ripped jeans, was a black wife beater. On the front, just between the girl s breasts, was a large, stylized white D. A delicate hand came up, one finger extended, and pushed round-framed glasses back up her nose. Her bangs, over-long and nearly down to her chin, fell forward and blocked Jane s view. Still, she had seen enough; Jane s tongue stuck out of the corner of her mouth as she laid her pencil flat on the page of her sketchbook and shaded in the new girl s hair.

DeMartino, used to the youngest Lane's pastime, ignored her. She passed her tests, did her homework and handed in assignments peppered with relevant and amusing anecdotes; Jane didn't try, but she really didn't need to, so DeMartino left her alone. Instead he turned to his newest victim, who not only answered the question but went on to sum up the whole of the current lesson in less than twenty words. Pleasant surprise colored the veteran s face and for the first time in years he allowed himself to hope.

The bell rang and the unruly horde rushed the classroom door. The Untouchables were the last to leave, some still packing books, one or two at the desk chatting with their teacher before the next bell. The new girl was one of the former, though the books she piled into her bag seemed to be novels, poetry and collections of short stories rather than textbooks. Face blank, the girl brushed her long hair back as she swept out of the room and something small flashed in the light as it tumbled past her shoulder. Jane, who had hung back to observe the girl further, stooped to pluck the thing from the dingy linoleum. It was a hanging silver earring in the shape of a crescent moon and arrow. Not far away sat the stopper, which Jane also grabbed before trotting out of the classroom.

Far down the hall Jane caught a flash of auburn as the girl turned a corner. Cursing, Jane stepped up her trot to a slow run and caught up with her just before she walked into Ms. Barch's Science lab.

"Hey, Dee!" she called and the girl jumped, then spun around with face pale and eyes wide. Up close she was rather short, with large almond-shaped honey-brown eyes and full rose petal lips. Her hair was thick and shiny, long bangs framing her oval face which seemed a bit drawn in the yellowish hall light. In fact, if one looked closely, light smudges were visible under her eyes and the lower lids were lined with lack of sleep. This was all drunk in and stored away in the space of a second, as was the jittery way she had turned when called.

"What do you want?" Her voice was soft, almost flat, and she spoke in a guarded manner. Unperturbed, Jane held out one graphite-smeared hand, the lost trinket nestled within the palm.

"You dropped this."

Her eyes went wider and she clutched at her right ear with something like panic, then, finding the earring gone, snatched it from Jane s hand and held it to her chest, head down and hair hanging about her like a shroud. After a moment she replaced the earring in the first hole of her right ear, beside a silver stud. When it was secure, she looked up at the girl standing before her, glanced down at her boots and tucked her runaway bangs behind one ear.

"Thanks."

Jane cocked a brow and shrugged. Just before the new girl ducked into the classroom, Jane called out to her again and she turned with curiously raised brows.

"What's your name?"

That bland expression lightened slightly and Jane found herself wondering what the girl looked like when she smiled.

"Daria."

Daria slipped into the classroom and was gone.

o.0.o

Timothy O Neill's Self Esteem workshop was as drippy and dull as ever, but Jane was not paying attention anyway. She was again drawing Daria, the new girl she had met briefly that morning. The girl who was at that very moment seated at the desk directly in front of her. They had a brief exchange a few minutes in, and after class walked out together. At the front of the school by the concrete sign stood a girl with red hair almost as long as Daria s, wearing a pink shirt and flared jeans. When the two approached, the redhead turned and smiled when she spotted the shorter girl.

"Daria!" Her smile faltered somewhat when they flickered over Jane and she looked at Daria questioningly.

They were still a few yards away, far enough that Daria s whisper did not carry.

"That's Quinn, my little sister." Jane nodded and waved uncertainly at the younger girl. This is Jane Lane, Daria answered when they were close enough and motioned for Quinn to walk with them. Quinn glanced over toward a convertible idling at the curb and smiled sheepishly.

"Um, actually I was invited somewhere. It's okay if I go, right? Mom said you had to know where I was."

Daria glanced at the car, and took in the haughty face of the brunette sitting at the wheel before her eyes skated over the other two occupants of the car, a pigtailed girl with nervous eyes and a bored-looking Asian girl with shiny black hair. Daria frowned, but after they hashed out the details- address, phone number, parents names and home by dinner- she waved her sister goodbye and waited until the car was out of sight before turning back to her companion.

They walked on to the Lane house, where Daria was briefly acquainted with Jane's older brother, Trent, before he fell asleep halfway through their conversation. Daria was amused rather than insulted. They ended the visit with Daria sneaking out one of the back basement windows with a promise to meet Jane before school the next day.

After ducking into a neighbor s yard to ensure no affiliation with the Lane house in the case any bank workers were in fact lurking in the area, it was off to the homestead. Daria s combat boots thudded morosely on the concrete and she would often finger the silver crescent at her ear, as if for comfort.

o.0.o

Quinn got home exactly three minutes, twenty-six seconds before dinner was served. Helen Morgendorffer had never been much of a cook, but now that she had a high-powered position as a corporate lawyer at one of the most notorious law firms in the state, she could not be bothered to cook dinner for her family. On the table was a tray of microwave lasagna, salad in a bag and a bottle of Coke. Everyone served themselves while Quinn rattled on about her day.

"...ice President of the Fashion Club for now, but one of the cheerleaders told me if I tried out I could probably get a spot on the squad. I don t really do all that athletic stuff but they train you anyway and it s not like I d actually have to play football or anything, just cheer for the guys who do and anyway it would-"

"You can't be a cheerleader."

Everyone looked around at Daria's quiet pronouncement. Even Jake looked up from his plate, food scattered to the rim but uneaten. Helen s face screwed up in preparation for an angry outburst while Quinn looked almost hurt.

"Why not?" She flipped a cucumber over with her fork and began pushing it around her plate." I know I'm not as good as you with grades and stuff, but if I really tried-"

"You only need a 1.0 average to be on the squad- believe me, to them you d be the equivalent of Einstein and Tesla's love child. It has nothing to do with your grades, Quinn- and anyway, a B average is nothing to be ashamed about." Quinn showed a tiny smile at the praise while Helen held on to her anger, not ready to absolve her oldest child just yet. "I have class with the captain of the squad. She told me that freshmen can't join as a rule." Daria looked up and smiled. "Sorry, Quinn."

The youngest Morgendorffer looked surprised for a moment, then smiled her disappointment away.

"Oh, it's okay, I don t know if I d want to wear the same outfit every day, anyway. Oh, did I tell you what Sandi said about my shoes?"

Dinner went on this way for a while longer before the phone rang. Helen answered it with the expectation of a work call, but her eyes widened in unpleasant surprise a moment later.

"Yes, I'm her mother."

Daria froze and, across the table, Quinn met her eyes for a moment before gluing her gaze to her plate. Daria pushed her dinner away, barely touched though it was. It seemed lasagna did not agree with her all of a sudden.

"I see. Thank you for calling." The cordless was replaced in the charger with more force than was strictly necessary and Helen whirled on Daria, the very picture of the mythical Fury. "What did you do?! You were given an evaluation by the school psychologist today, and now you're being put into a self-esteem class! Did you insult her? Question her professional integrity? Ask for her I.Q.?!"

Jake turned his tired eyes on his little girl, who for all the world seemed to have shrunk in her seat. Her hair fell around her face, as it always did when she wanted to be invisible. Her hands were a knot in her lap, tight and trembling; the remains of her fingernails dug into her knuckles and left bloody, stippled crescents.

"I was signed up before I got there." The temperature in the kitchen dropped and everyone froze. "The evaluation was a formality. I was signed up when they reviewed my file. I didn't have a choice."

Silence pressed down upon the room, heavy and solid. Unable to bear the scrutiny any longer, Daria rose from her place at the table with her plate, placed it in the sink and escaped in the direction of the stairs, three sets of eyes boring smoking holes into her back all the time. A moment passed. Helen stomped over to the table, snatched her plate and slammed it down into the stainless steel sink. The sound of shattering china chased Daria all the way to her bedroom where not until she sat in her closet with her back pressed against the wall, Bohemian Rhapsody screaming from her headphones, could she pretend that this was all just a bad dream.

.o.0.o.