High School Never Ends, Daria fanfic Options

[WellTemperedClavier]

(Hey, everyone! I've shared pretty much all the TES fic I've ever written already. Renee said I should go ahead and post some of my Daria fanfic. I'll admit this is a bit of an experiment; I'm curious if Outlanders is a good enough primer for Daria that fanfic would still be enjoyable.

So here's one of the earlier fics I wrote. It actually takes place a bit after the series ends, when Daria's in college (sort of), and leans more toward drama than comedy. Daria and her family have, of course, the same names they have on the show. Kevin you'd know as Kavon, the dim-witted city guard. He's a football jock in the show. The story's about as long as The Last Days of the Fashion Club.)

Chapter 1

A touch of winter remained in the soft wind, new leaves and grass shivering in this reminder of the colder months. The wind blew through parks and over streets busy with the evening commute, mingling with smells of smog and oil.

Daria's only response was to tighten her jacket, the same faithful green coat she'd worn all through high school, now hanging a little looser on her frame. She'd found it right in her closet, a bit dusty but no worse for the wear. Slipping it back on had felt almost like renewal, at least until she reminded herself how much she used to hate her hometown.

Better the devil you know. Besides, you didn't hate Lawndale so much as you detested it. Scorned it, even.

Daria paused in her thoughts, half-expecting a response. She shook her head and continued to put one booted foot in front of the other. Ten minutes later found her across the street from her intended destination, the big front building still in its familiar shade of off-yellow.

Daria frowned, not entirely sure what she'd expected. She considered going over and wandering through the campus, likely empty save for a few stragglers and custodians. Its teeming hallways, ironclad in lockers, stretched out again in her mind's eye, a hundred thoughts tied to each room. Bad thoughts, for the most part: recollections of meddlesome teachers, idiotic students, and other high school agonies.

This is pathetic. If you're going to reminisce, at least do it for a place you actually liked.

She stood for a few minutes longer, the sun's last rays retreating past the horizon. Finally she turned and began retracing the steps to the Pizza King, a path forever imprinted on her mind. Electricity and neon lit up storefronts changed but little during her brief absence, the sights so familiar that she briefly imagined herself a high schooler once again. Only one missing element: the other pair of booted feet walking next to her own.

Daria paused outside the front windows of the venerable Pizza King, favored hangout of Lawndale students since time immemorial, the smell of burnt cheese and spice hovering in a fog just outside the store. Her breath caught in her throat, anxiety prickling the back of her mind as she looked through the grimy windows to try and find familiar faces among the patrons.

You really are delusional if you think anyone from outside of your class would even recognize you. No one's going to notice.

Still she stayed in place. A few of the five girls crowding the left corner table looked familiar though their names and faces escaped Daria. Relative anonymity proved perhaps the greatest benefit of having attended such a crowded school.

She finally pushed open the door and made absolutely sure to look at nothing beyond the grimy serving counter, its surface laminated by decades' worth of spilled grease. The smell hit her more than anything else, though objectively it differed little from similarly unremarkable pizzerias up in Boston. She slowed down for just a moment, suddenly lightheaded.

She hurried towards the counter and spoke in a rapid monotone as she ordered a slice of pepperoni and a large Coke, grateful that she didn't recognize the gangly teenager who took her order. Daria took her meal and sat at the nearest table once served. She kept her eyes on the surface, a white night sky decorated by constellations of pizza sauce stains.

What exactly did you expect coming here?

She again examined the parlor, her vision a hopeless blur above the rim of her glasses. Everything looked just the same except for the people.

That's for the best. Last thing you want is everyone wondering why the brain is back.

"Hey, the brain is back!"

Daria yelped and nearly spilled her drink. She recognized him in an instant though it took a bit longer to react to this realization. Kevin Thompson stood before her, still in his football uniform and smiling with the same imbecilic confidence.

"Oh. Um, hi, Kevin."

"Wow, I never expected to see you here. How's college—wait, don't tell me: it's spring break isn't it? Spring break!" he cheered, throwing his arms up in the air. "That's awesome, Daria."

Daria decided to run with it. "Yeah, it is. I'm actually on my way to Fort Lauderdale."

"Really?" His eyes went wide, like a kid listening to a cool older sibling tell a story.

Daria decided to go along with it. "Uh huh. I've been practicing my binge drinking skills, and hope to put them to good use. So far, I can drain an entire keg in a single go. I'm the envy of my classmates."

"College must be really fun. I guess that's where you brains go to have fun, huh?"

"It's where we unleash the partying instincts that we held in check all through high school. You wouldn't believe how wild it gets over there. How's college treating you?"

Kevin's smile drooped, his face reddening as he looked to the side. At once she remembered.

"Oh! Sorry. I forgot."

"Yeah," he sighed.

"Well, how's high school treating you?"

Kevin straightened up, as if suddenly conscious of an audience. "It's not bad. In a way, I'm kind of glad. The team really needs me."

"So you were still quarterback last season?" That surprised her, though Principal Li wouldn't be above pulling some strings to keep her slowest student in the game.

"Um, well, you know I'm the best and all," he said, pointing to himself. "But I kinda wanted to give the other guys a shot, you know?"

"You stepped aside to let someone else take your role? That's surprisingly noble of you."

"It is? Oh, yeah, right. Brad's QB. I'm still really fast, so I was the running back. We had a good season. You know, 'cause I was on it."

Daria nodded, trying and failing to recall any football player by the name of Brad.

"I'm sure. Well, it was nice seeing you again."

"You too, Daria! Party hard down in Fort Lauderdale! I always knew you were wild and crazy deep down."

"You have no idea."

He waved and walked out the door. Daria wondered how she'd missed seeing him when first scanning the parlor—the guy didn't exactly blend in. She finished her meal in silence and zoned out over the next two hours, taking occasional sips from a drink made watery by melting ice, hearing snippets of long-past conversations.

She left the Pizza King just before 9:00. Stepping out into the night, she realized it had probably been unwise to stay out so late on her own. Not much happened in Lawndale, but you could never be sure. Even so she took her time going home, arriving when all of the windows save Quinn's were dark. Going through the door, she crept up the stairs on quiet feet, hoping she wouldn't be heard over the sound of Quinn's phone conversation.

Walking down the upstairs hall, she heard her sister's voice go silent, followed by the door to her room opening up.

"Hey, Daria. Um, are you okay? I was getting a little worried with you being out so late."

"Oh, thanks. I'm fine. I just got a little sidetracked."

"Sidetracked doing what?"

"Seeing—" she'd been about to say friends, but realized that A) it wasn't true, and it wasn't a believable lie. "Seeing some of the old sights. I didn't mean to worry you."

"Oh, well I wasn't really scared or anything. Good night."

"'Night," she replied.

This post has been edited by WellTemperedClavier: Jan 27 2024, 06:57 PM

[WellTemperedClavier]

Another flashback to college chapter today.

@Renee - Thanks! I was an only child, so I'm never sure how good a job I do when it comes to sibling relationships. Glad I pulled this off.

Heh, yes, I have a feeling that Morrowind!Daria would roll her eyes a bit at the Earth version. Earth!Daria doesn't have to worry about nix hounds or Telvanni agents. What's she so worked up about?

Yup, DeMartino never changes.

@Acadian - Yeah, money's not truly the motive here, though I'm not sure Daria completely realizes that.

@SubRosa - Got it. Interesting way to try and maintain team balance. I know being a professional athlete can take a tremendous toll on the body. If that's why Sanders decided to get out early, I don't blame him in the slightest.

Math was never my subject favorite subject either, and I wasn't even especially good at it. I can empathize with Kevin in this case.

Good catch with the italics, thanks!

That's not quite what Daria ends up doing, but you're not far off either. More will be revealed.

Chapter 8

Earlier…

Not having any classes on Tuesday freed Daria to sequester herself in her dorm, wrapped in blankets and with the heater turned to full blast against the Boston winter. She drifted to a waking state over the course of hours before getting out of bed a bit past noon, throwing on a coat and taking a seat at her computer. She spent the day cycling through routine websites and half-reading the their contents.

I should probably get something to eat.

She instead satisfied herself with a few handfuls of stale crackers kept in her desk. Daria lay back down after turning off her computer, and again wondered why she felt so weary despite having done nothing. Two lectures and a discussion course waited for her the next day, but she'd finished all the prep work over the weekend. Only waiting remained.

Patricia returned at half past four clad in bright winter wear, the thick jackets and scarves arranged in absolute precision.

"Wow, it is cold outside!"

"Which is why I'm inside," Daria replied.

"You didn't know it snowed last night?"

"We've had snow for a while now."

"Yeah, but we got new snowfall last night. It's fresh, so enjoy before it gets all slushy."

Daria didn't respond. Patricia took off her jacket and turned on her computer. Daria shifted on her bed so that she faced the wall, wanting to sleep but finally realizing she actually felt pretty hungry.

If I go get dinner now I won't have to deal with as many idiots down in the commissary.

She lay there for a while longer.

"Hey, Daria, I'm going out for some pizza. You should come too," Patricia said.

"Why?"

"I'd like to get to know the girl who's been writing my essays a bit better."

"Personally, I think cash speaks louder than words." Spending time with Patricia amounted to torture.

"It'll just take an hour of your time." Patricia's voice took on a familiar no-nonsense tone that denied even the possibility of argument.

"Fine, but don't think this makes us friends."

"The thought never crossed my mind."

Throwing on her heaviest coat and covering her disheveled hair in a thick flannel cap, Daria prepared to brave the wintry Boston wilds. She gasped when the full force of the cold hit her upon stepping outside. Patricia led the way, her movements light and swift.

Drifts of snow covered the campus, the mounds still bright against the darkening sky. The city lit up around them, even Tuesday night bringing out carousers and nighttime shoppers. They finally stopped at a faux-dingy pizzeria, Reynaldo's Italian in red letters against the yellow canvas awning.

Eight round glass-topped tables competed for space in the brick-floored parlor, most already occupied by students who watched the basketball game shown on the large television glaring down from an upper corner. The two of them ordered at the counter and took seats at the nearest table.

"Now that the first semester's almost done, what do you think of Raft?" Patricia asked.

"It beats high school."

"Tell me about it! It's kind of scary though, huh. Like, we're adults now."

"And like an adult, you find people to do your dirty work for you."

Patricia's eyes narrowed for just a moment before her face returned to its normal state of cheerful calm.

"Why do you get so mad about this?" she asked.

"I'm not mad. I took your money, didn't I? What annoys me is you trying to be my friend all of a sudden."

"You looked kind of lonesome. Meeting new people is a big part of college, you know? Making friends is how you get jobs that don't suck once you graduate." Patricia sounded as certain of herself as ever.

"Nice to know you'll be part of the old boys' club." Daria wanted her words to sting. Patricia stayed calm.

"Come on, work with me. You're obviously really smart. That's why I wanted to get help from you. We're not hurting anybody—these are just stupid assignments. Didn't you ever do homework for a friend during high school?"

"No." Quinn's family, not a friend. And I didn't even like those Middleton students.

"It's not like anyone will care about how well we did in our classes in a few years. No one's life depends on me knowing about classes I only take for breadth."

"What the hell's your point, Patricia?"

"Just that, maybe, you could be getting more from college than you are. You've really helped me this semester, and I want to return the favor. I can help you meet people, maybe even get a boyfriend. You just seem really sad all the time."

"If I'm sad it's because I have to share class with dimwits and cheaters."

"You have to make the most of it. You can spend four years at a school you hate and graduate with a lot of smarts and nothing to show for it, or you have fun and graduate with a lot of opportunities. People cheat, in school and in the real world. The professors don't care. You obviously don't care."

"You're right. I don't care." Daria stood up and stared straight at Patricia. "And I don't like you. The reason I do your homework for you is because the more time you spend drinking yourself stupid at keggers is less time you spend with me. The money's just a bonus."

Patricia was silent for a moment, her face not betraying any emotion. Finally she shrugged.

"That's okay if you don't want to write my papers. I'm not going to get mad. I know some other people who can do it for me."

"Then go bother them."

Daria's initial seething joy curdled into disappointment as she stalked out of the restaurant. Telling off a roommate would probably have repercussions, but it didn't really matter. On the rare occasions that Patricia returned to the dorm from networking, Daria could just pretend to be asleep.

Burying herself beneath the blankets came as a welcome thought on such a cold winter night as she began walking to what passed for a home.