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Everyone Needs a Stereotype

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The following takes place a few weeks after the end of Daria series, at Janes’ place.

"This one?" asked Jane, showing Daria her old lady and the Tiger painting. They had been picking out things to hang in their dorms, cross checking with each other if it had been good enough to hang on a wall that was most likely going to be puked upon by their drunken roommates.

“If you have a roommate deathly allergic of lye.” answered Daria, relaxing on Jane’s bed. She had denied Jane of ten pictures already, all vague reminders of memories that should be burned in a furnace according to Daria. For some reason, after high school had fully ended, Daria wanted to forget the rich memories she had made at Lawndell High. If it had been trying to make a new start, or repressing the constant ups and downs of yester year had been only known to her.

“Oh come on Daria, the walls of my room can’t be blank! I need something that has weight to it!” retorted Jane, lightly placing the painting on her bed. Her face didn’t seem too upset, but her eyes seemed to be starting up a fire. Daria, not phased by Jane’s slowly climbing mood, continued to watch the T.V. She had been half listening to it though, only using it as a scape goat to avoid picking out any memories particular.

A playful game of Red Light Green Light turns deadly, Which Kid will stay on Red light fo—" The T.V. chimed before Jane roughly picked up the remote to shut it off. Daria’s eyes moved over to Jane, as her eyes fired with a answer to her question. 

“Try gluing bricks to all of your paintings, that should work.” Sarcastically replied Daria, reaching for the remote from Janes’ hand.

“Daria, I’m serious about this! I just want one or two paintings, but every single one you reject? What’s so wrong with them?” countered Jane, pulling away the remote and keeping it in her grasp. Daria had sprung up, reaching for the remote behind Jane’s back, eager to try and grasp it. 

“I dunno, just pick one!” said Daria, as Jane pushed her away from the remote behind her, trying her best to get a solid response from Daria. Jane’s eyes became even more fiery as her body language became more explicit about her growing anger. Her free arm shoved away Daria’s figure, as Daria had slowly began to get angry herself. The squabble had become more fierce as Jane reached for Daria’s glasses, snatching them from her face. With quickness of a lion, she evaded the now blinded Daria with ease, holding both Daria’s glasses and the remote. 

“I’m going to order some pizza, you sit and look over those paintings again!” stated Jane, giving one quick wave before jetting off downstairs. Daria sighed, defeated. She had thought, ‘How I’m I suppose to look at paintings without my glasses?’

“Trent, go upstairs and be Daria’s eyes, she’s on room arrest for bad behavior!” wailed Jane from downstairs, Daria’s face turning a certain shade of red. Now that her ties with Tom had been shredded, her mind began to run with possibilities. 

“Alright…” Trent had said in his normal, slow paced voice. Heart pounding, Daria got up. She needed the T.V. so it could be a distraction, some sort of thing that could offset her strange rebuilt feelings for Trent. 

“Where’s the dam on button!” Daria had sputtered, thinking that it’d take Trent a few more minutes before the thought of getting up occurred to him. His nonexistent watch always ran a few minutes slow anyway. Arms began rub against her waist, pushing at the buttons below the T.V. as well.

“Been awhile since I actually found it myself..” muttered Trent, searching along with Daria. A blush grew on her face, not exactly sure how to feel. Quickly ducking under one of Trent’s arms, she paced herself back to Jane’s paintings…weight…she’d show her weight…Daria grabbed a couple of pictures, though all she was able to see was puddles of colors and shapes. Another skinny figure tapped at her back, her lips puckering up to avoid the inevitable blush.

“That’s ones an…uh…I don’t know…Janes’ work is…abstract.” Trent rationalized, taking a seat besides Daria. She looked away, thinking. ‘Well I could lie and say I like these the best…’ Thought Daria, lowering the painting down to the ground again.

“It’s alright Trent, Jane will pick once her sanity comes back.” Daria mumbled, patting the bed under her to check if she had enough room to lay down. Slowly laying herself besides Trent’s sitting figure, she began to do her thinking, trying to use her logic at hand to figure out what had been wrong with Janes’ brain. 

“Why would she need pictures when she’d already have me…” Daria had, on accident, thought aloud. It was fairly common for something like this to happen, when stress had found a way to build into Daria’s brain. ‘Trent’s probably too deep into thinking of more words that rhyme with pain for his new songs to hear my random outburst..’ thought Daria, looking over to the window. The slowly expanding creases on Janes’ covers thought otherwise.

“Janes scared…once she moves down there, you may find some friends just like you…the world is…big..big…” answered Trent, the bed shifting quite a bit. Daria’s awkwardness had held her blurry vision forward in order to avoid a nervous outbreak of half said words.

“Yeah, I may found my own fashion club and leave Jane for her uncannily ugly fashion sense,” Daria responded, adding emphasize on the ugly. Trent had laughed for a few seconds, ending in his usual cough.

“I know you just need to stick by each other…” jabbered Trent, a small hand on her shoulder. ‘Pucker those lips, danmmit’ thought Daria as he lips had gone completely inside of her mouth.

“Yeah..and friends…friendship..portant…” Daria had struggled, her nerves slowly starting to get the best of her. ‘Say something logical!’, Daria’s subconscious yelled, as she then stated, “As long as we don’t have to drag ourselfs back to Lawndell again, I think we’ll be on pretty okay terms.” Again Trent had laugh, followed by the cough.

“You’re chick, Daria..” Trent had said slowly, slower than his usual laxed out voice…’A simple glance wouldn’t hurt’ pondered Daria, moving her face an inch to see Trent’s not so far away. His eyes blinked lightly, staring straight at Daria’s face. ‘This is fine…nothing’s going on…’ Daria had tried to convince herself, but the slow moving face of Trent’s had denied her the sweet lies. His lips kissed hers softly, as if his laxed mood could be formulated into a kiss. His arms lightly wrapped around her waist, as to Daria’s shocked and pleased situation had been too confused to do just about anything but kiss back with the vigor and angst of the years she had wished to have the fairytale ending she was able to have now. Their bodies turned to each others, mouths sucking the others faces. Daria’s arms loosely hug around Trent, more focused on the lip department. Trent moved an arm to her hair, fingers pecking at the scalp quietly. Trent had been performing indirect surgery on Daria’s usual level headed mind. Her thoughts became a mist, all awkwardness and sarcastic thoughts exiled as Trent’s mist of happiness clouded her judgement. The other arm had went passed Daria’s dark green jacket, reaching for a bit more than the kiss had entitled.

“No practice today, Trent?” piqued Jane, relaxing herself against the opening of the door. Trent slowly got off of Daria, shooting a small glance(probable laxed anger?) at Jane, then back to Daria.

“See you around..” Trent avowed, making soft steps out of Janes room, turning the corner sharp enough to brush up against Jane. Daria’s eyes followed Trent as he quickly left the room, Jane slowly entering. Her mind, as confused as a post-high schooler could get, seemed very…nesty right now. Her usual quick snappiness dissipated by the steam of her and Trent’s intense make out session.

“I see you got over Tom pretty easily.” exclaimed Jane, patting down Daria’s wild hair down. ‘Tom…’ Daria’s mind echoed his name over and over, a frown slapping onto her face.

” I..?” Daria intimated, taking her glasses from Janes’ unguarded hand, placing them back onto her face. Fixing her hair to a further extent, Daria’s thoughts soon fell from the cloud nine she was just on. Thoughts of Tom and Trent began to juggle in her mind, as images began to dilute her eyes.

“Now Now, my dear. Everyone needs a label every now and then.” admonished Jane, turning back on the T.V., chewing on some nachos. 

The crunch of the nachos brought Daria back to the present, as they had explained much in no words and little sound. 

“Shut up and pass the remote.” Daria said sternly, her palm held upward as Jane slipped the remote into her hand.