Disclaimer: I'm not an owner, I'm just a random shipper.
"Oh, Ben's here! Gotta go, guys."
Quinn waved happily to the other members of the fashion club, who watched with narrowed, dreamy, and blank eyes respectively as she flounced over to the car that had just pulled into the school parking lot. She got in the passenger seat and kissed the driver. Tires squealed, the car pulling away even as the occupants continued to kiss.
Daria also watched the scene, her narrowed eyes a match for Sandi's, though for entirely different reasons.
Daria's unexpressive face was probably unreadable to the average person, but her best friend Jane could tell she was fuming the entire walk home from school. If nothing else, the silence was a dead giveaway.
As they entered Casa Lane and sat at the table, each with a can of soda that had miraculously been in what was usually a refrigerator more bare than Mother Hubbard's cupboard, Jane finally had enough.
"Alright, Morgendorffer. Spill. What's got your panties in a knot? Your figurative panties, of course, since inside sources tell me you don't wear literal ones."
"I knew I should've kept my frequent urge to go commando to myself."
"Hey, you can't give me fuel like that and expect me not to light you up like a Christmas Tree. You'd probably be about as colorful as one if I happened to drop that little bomb in front of my brother, too."
"Of course I wouldn't. If I did that, what would I use to hang over you for the next ten years? Now, enough dodging. You're very upset about something. Since I have not taken leave of my alleged senses and rejoined the track team, I'm pulling a blank as to why. My mind-reading techniques are failing me, so you're going to have to actually open your mouth and let the words pour out like so much expired cookie dough, as difficult as that may sound, or I will continue to be clueless."
"Sounds more disgusting than difficult."
"You're right. It's easy. So spill."
Daria sighed and rubbed her forehead. "I don't like Quinn's boyfriend."
"Well, I should hope not. You two have enough to fight about as it is without throwing a love triangle into the mix."
"Putting aside the hilarious and disturbing idea that I could be attacted to a guy that would date Quinn by choice...I mean I don't like him as a person."
"Landing him squarely in the same category as 99% of the rest of the people on the planet. And this is different from all the other guys Quinn's dated how, exactly?"
"It's different!" Daria said, irritated. "For one thing, she's dating this guy for real. It's not just a one time luxury and status grab like what she usually does. She's been dating him for a record three weeks now, and over that period of time, she's spent more time with him than with her fashion club friends. She never did that with any of her other so-called boyfriends."
Jane gave her friend a long, hard look. "Since when do you care what Quinn does or who she hangs out with?"
"I don't! It's just...he's reckless, and criminally stupid. He's not some harmless highschooler, he's a college age troublemaker and terminal dickhead who hangs with a bad crowd and makes them look like saints with his own behavior. Anyone around him is in for a load of misery."
Jane sat back in her chair, a smug smile creeping across her lips. "You're worried about her."
Daria scowled. "Don't make accusations you can't prove. My mother is a lawyer. I'll sue you for slander and take everything you've got before you can blink."
Jane gasped in fake horror. "Not my paintings! They're all I have, and they're probably worth a collective...forty cents, at least!"
"Your paintings and your sculptures. So watch your mouth."
"As threatening as that is, I'm going to have to stand by my statement. You're actually worried about your sister."
"Oh, sure. Rub it in, why don't you Next, you're going to tell me you've taken up waterboarding and shock therapy."
"I was, but the waterboarding process is messy and time-consuming, and I had to give up the shock therapy when I saw our power bill that week. So what are you going to do, now that you're experiencing the strange and bewildering world of familial concern?"
Another sigh from Daria. "I guess I'm gonna have to do the unthinkable. Intentionally start a conversation with Mom."