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