This is the twenty-first episode of The Driven Wild Universe. It follows
This installment takes place two to three weeks after "Memory Road" concluded. I would call it a 3S... but since some people read these in one sitting, I suspect these Seating ratings are kind of useless. As a more accurate measure, I would say that it is about the length of "All But Forgotten."
I mentioned in my end notes for "Memory Road" that there's no clear timeline for the Driven Wild Universe, but that by now, Daria is a senior and Quinn a junior. If I had to estimate when the break between years occurred, I would say between "In Her Own Words" and "All But Forgotten," since "All But Forgotten" and "Memory Road" are supposed to take place early in the school year, possibly Labor Day Weekend. If it doesn't make any sense... well, the real show's timeline didn't make a whole lot of sense either.
Enjoy!
[intro theme music...................]
SCENE 1 (Lawndale High hallway )
(Students are clearing out their lockers and heading home. Daria and Jane are by theirs, and Daria appears even more antisocial than usual. Her eyes are downcast as she quickly stuffs books into her bag. Just then, Kevin and Brittany appear behind her.)
BRITTANY: Maybe we should say something, Kevvy.
KEVIN: I don't know, babe. She's kind of freaking me out.
BRITTANY: But she always does that, babe.
KEVIN: Oh, right.
BRITTANY: Only now she's, like, even more miserable than before, which will make her less popular, and if she's even less popular, she'll be even more miserable, until she's down to nothing, you know, babe?
KEVIN: (squints, confused) But if she's more miserable.. . shouldn't she be more popular?
BRITTANY: We have to help her! As popular people, we have a duty to reach out to anyone less fortunate than we are!
KEVIN: You mean we have to hug her?
BRITTANY: Eap!
DARIA: I can hear you, you know.
(She straightens up and turns to face them, her expression grim. Brittany edges closer, looking sincerely contrite, if vacant as ever.)
BRITTANY: Daria... if you ever want to talk about, um, stuff? We're, like, here for you. (Bt) But no touching!
JANE: Yeah, Daria, why don't you tell Brittany about that run-over squirrel we saw in the parking lot this morning. All those little black bugs eating away at its dead glazed eyes --
BRITTANY: EWWWW! No! I meant your parents' (whispers) separation.
DARIA: And just how did you learn about that?
(Brittany starts twirling her hair frantically.)
BRITTANY: I heard it from Angie, who heard it from Nikki, who heard it from Corey who used to date Nikki, even though I told her she was far too good for that squeaky-voiced little weasel and --
(Daria groans.)
KEVIN: I heard it from the janitor guy. Or was it the hedge-clipper guy?
JANE: Oh, and Mr. O'Neill's been announcing it to some of his classes on the condition that they not say anything. Which I can see worked like a charm.
(Daria glares at her.)
JANE: Sorry I didn't tell you, I just thought you'd had enough brain hemorrhages for the past week.
DARIA: So the whole school knows. That explains why so many people have been staring at me today.
BRITTANY: And if you ever need to talk to someone who's "been there," I can tell you about how my mom, Vivian, threw my dad's entire collection of extinct stuffed eagle earmuffs down the garbage disposal, and made him cry for a week!
DARIA: That's --
BRITTANY: And how she cleared out all his secret bank accounts to buy this really neat condo in Malibu so she could be an actress in movies where you don't have to wear a bra! But that's okay, Daria: I'm sure your dad won't move to California to star in any movies.
JANE: Not unless they waive the clause that makes him wear underwear.
DARIA: That's very thoughtful of you, Brittany, but I'm dealing with this just fine. I'll let you know, though, when I could use a really good topless movie story.
BRITTANY: Sure thing, Daria!
KEVIN: And I'll tell you about the time my mom kicked my dad out of the house and threw all of his beer bottles at the TV. Oh, wait (chuckles) they're still together...
BRITTANY: Come on, Kevin.
(She and Kevin leave. Daria closes her locker and leans her head against it.)
JANE: See? You saw for yourself: It can always be worse.
DARIA: Damn that Quinn. I told her not to tell everyone.
JANE: You can't blame her, Daria: As you can see, the whole thing kind of got out of control. Telling just one person could have been enough for the gossip mill.
DARIA: People's parents get divorced all the time. Mine are only separated. Why is everyone acting like my life is over?
JANE: Because reveling in someone else's troubles makes them feel like theirs aren't so big.
DARIA: Damn human nature.
(Jodie comes over.)
JODIE: Hey Daria, I heard -- (She's stopped short by Daria's dark frown.)
JANE: Run away, Jodie, run away...
JODIE: (understands) I'll talk to you later.
(She leaves.)
JANE: So how are you holding up? Really.
DARIA: I'll tell you when I know.
(She starts walking down the hall. Jane follows.)
DARIA: Right now, it just feels too weird. My dad is living at the Happy Acres Apartment Complex across town -- yet somehow, he seems to be around just as much as when he was at home. Every night, my mom tries to breach the wall of silence that Quinn and I have built to close her out, with little to show for it.
JANE: So no difference there.
DARIA: The only real change is... oh yes, I loathe them with every fiber of my being.
JANE: So all that forgiveness you were feeling wore off, huh?
DARIA: Along with the numbness. Now that my parents' separation is official and has some staying power, the only feeling I can pick out of the haze is resentment.
JANE: Why don't we just drop the subject, then, until further notice? Anything exciting and whimsical that you want to share?
(Daria pauses as Mr. Phelps hurries past. His eyes flicker in her direction before he disappears around a corner.)
DARIA: I'll tell you later.
(cut to: )
SCENE 2 (neighborhood sidewalk, after school)
(Quinn walks home by herself, her expression clouded in thought as she gazes down at some papers.)
SANDI: (O.S.) Quinn.
(Quinn jerks her head up, folds the papers, and lays them in her backpack as her old nemesis approaches.)
QUINN: Sandi? Hi, how are you?
SANDI: Can't complain. How about you?
QUINN: I'm fine. I feel like we haven't talked for a while.
SANDI: You're wearing contacts, I see.
(Quinn touches the corner of her eye. For the first time since "Cheered Down," she looks like Quinn from the series.)
QUINN: Yeah, they finally came out with the kind that can handle my eye problem. I was so happy to get them, even though they've been kind of hard to get used to 'cause they sting a little. Do you like them?
SANDI: Well at least they're not the glasses.
(Quinn presses her lips together in a strained smile. Sandi still knows how to give backhanded compliments.)
QUINN: So what have you been up to? I feel like I never see you at the places we hang out, and you're not around at lunch.
SANDI: I've been extremely busy with many important things. (She eyes Quinn's backpack.) Though frankly I'm a little surprised you would even notice, given how busy you've been with your math stuff.
QUINN: (defensive) I'm not that busy. Mathletics season hasn't started yet and all I'm doing is some extra credit to boost my grade.
SANDI: Your grade must be pretty abysmal, because it seems like you're always in the math room with that Mr. Phelps. (Sandi tosses her hair.) I don't know how you can hang out with that creep.
(Quinn's eyes narrow, even though Sandi's insult seems more directed at her math teacher than her.)
QUINN: He's not a creep! You don't even know him.
SANDI: Well then what non-creepy things does he say to you?
QUINN: He -- (She closes her mouth, realizing that Phelps doesn't say much about his life at all.) Look, you're not president of the Fashion Club or vice president of the school anymore, so I don't have to explain anything to you.
(She starts to break away. Sandi gets a brief look of contrition on her face, like she never meant for their encounter to turn hostile.)
SANDI: Quinn, wait.
(Quinn stops and turns, warily.)
SANDI: I just came to tell you that since you've been busy, I've been noticing a lot more fashion don'ts have been running around school without reprisal. If you want some help --
QUINN: No, I will not give up my position as Fashion Club president.
SANDI: I'm not asking you to, God. I'm just saying that to preserve fashion in the school, maybe we should overcome differences and work for the common good, or whatever.
QUINN: (surprised) That sounds... nice. Is that all you came by to tell me?
(Sandi nods curtly.)
QUINN: Well, okay, then. Thanks.
SANDI: See you around. (She nods again, starts to go, then stops.) Oh, and sorry about your parents.
QUINN: (surprised, grateful) Thanks.
(Sandi leaves, and Quinn watches after her with a remorseful, longing expression. She's missed Sandi more than she would have ever thought possible, since...)
QUINN: Wait! (softly) You never told me what you were up to.
(cut to: )
SCENE 3 (Morgendorffer residence, late afternoon)
(Shot of the outside, before cutting into Daria's room. Daria sits at her computer desk while Jane leans over her, both looking at the screen.)
JANE: So you and Quinn finally had the talk, huh?
DARIA: A couple days after my parents announced their separation.
JANE: Did she say if Phelps was doing anything underhanded?
DARIA: Just that he would sometimes get the answers to mathletics problems ahead of time so she would know them during the event, but she never needed them anyway, because she studied so much that she already knew how to work the problems.
JANE: Do you believe her?
(Beat)
DARIA: I hope so.
JANE: Did he do this just for Quinn, or for all the mathletes?
DARIA: (uncomfortable) She never said, but somehow I got the feeling they were just for her.
(She gazes forlornly at the computer screen.)
JANE: So now what? Are you gonna go to Ms. Li?
DARIA: (sighs) Quinn begged me not to. She said nothing bad had happened and that Phelps just wanted her to have a little extra confidence. (She swivels around to face Jane.) Besides, could you see Ms. Li launching an investigation into her award-winning mathletics team?
JANE: (snorts) She'd be more likely to launch an investigation into you.
DARIA: Exactly.
JANE: Are you gonna tell your parents?
(Daria doesn't reply. She turns the chair back around to face the computer screen.)
JANE: That was the basis of your Phelps paranoia, huh?
DARIA: So I thought. Since working on the underground paper gave me a severe case of Nancy Drew, I've scanned issues of Fielding's newspapers, alumni newsletters, and yearbooks going back ten years. I looked at both of the Lawndale newspapers, at archived student evaluations --
JANE: You were dedicated.
DARIA: -- asked for graduate contact information, and e-mailed some of the faculty, asking them if they knew Phelps very well. But still no smoking gun. Then I got this e-mail from a Fielding administrator.
(She clicks it open, revealing a line of correspondence between her and the respondent. At the bottom is her simple question about Phelps, followed by the reply, "Why are you so interested in Alfred Phelps?", followed by Daria's explanation that she is a student at Lawndale High and has heard some troubling things about him, followed by, "Why don't we meet at Cafe Brunoli (formerly the Metreonopolis)?")
JANE: His last e-mail is almost a month after yours.
DARIA: And he wants to meet next week.
JANE: Are you gonna go?
DARIA: Of course. If only to hear him say "there's nothing going on."
JANE: He wouldn't need to tell you that in person.
DARIA: Unless there's corruption at Fielding that he's afraid I'll stumble onto by mistake.
JANE: Or unless Phelps has a "very special problem" that requires a big explanation.
DARIA: Off the record.
JANE: Or maybe he really does have your smoking gun.
(Daria ponders this for a moment, before hearing the familiar sounds of the front door opening.)
DARIA: Great. (checks her clock.) Mom's been coming home earlier lately. Better head out, unless you want her to beg you to stay for dinner.
JANE: I can always jump out the window. (Bt) Those rose bushes won't leave permanent scars, will they?
(cut to: )
SCENE 4 (Morgendorffer kitchen)
(Daria, Quinn, and Helen poke at their dinners.)
HELEN: (forced cheer) How was school today, girls?
DARIA: Okay.
(Quinn utters a grunt that sounds like "fine." Helen's brow creases at her passive-aggressive demeanor.)
HELEN: Anything interesting happen?
DARIA: If this were kamikaze flight school, the answer might be yes.
HELEN: What about you, Quinn?
(Quinn shrugs, her eyes focused squarely on her food.)
HELEN: Are you enjoying your new contacts?
QUINN: (stony) Can't tell yet. They're kind of stingy when I wear them, 'cause my eyes keep getting wet.
HELEN: (gets her meaning) I'm sure it... just takes time to get used to them.
(Quinn makes a grunt that sounds like "whatever." Helen sighs noiselessly, then turns to Daria for support -- but Daria is in no mood to be their bridge. Like Quinn, she turns her eyes toward her plate.)
HELEN: Well my day was good. Yes. Very good... yes it was.
(Her voice fading, she picks at her food. Quinn then perks up and turns to Daria.)
QUINN: Have you turned in your transfer notice to DeMartino yet?
(Daria winces a little at the sound of his name, as does Helen.)
DARIA: Not yet.
QUINN: I think Mr. Nelson's gonna be way better. He doesn't yell at you or call you names.
DARIA: Mr. DeMartino doesn't do that... unless you do something stupid, like not study.
QUINN: Maybe not to you, but he yelled at me even when I did study. Just because it was a chapter that I should have read the week before. Yeesh!
HELEN: He calls you names??
QUINN: (ignoring her) If he wants people to do well in his class, he should learn how to motivate them, the way Mr. Phelps does.
DARIA: With cold, hard cash.
(Daria pops this remark out in jest, but Quinn seems to find it annoying.)
QUINN: Just because a teacher's good at motivating people doesn't mean there's something wrong with him. Sandi said he was creepy, but I think the whole reason she even brought it up was to distract me from asking questions about her life.
HELEN: When did you start talking to Sandi again?
QUINN: (ignoring her) Did I tell you I ran into her when I was walking home?
(Daria glances at Helen, who is pursing her lips together with growing frustration. Like her mother, she is getting tired of Quinn's "bratitude.")
DARIA: And she begged you to lend her your lip liner.
QUINN: She told me she's been doing great and important stuff, which is why she hasn't been to any of our usual hangouts. But if it's so great, why couldn't she just tell me? I mean, the only time you don't bring stuff up is if it's bad, right?
(Daria eyes Quinn and nods wearily.)
QUINN: Everyone's been wondering what's happened to her lately, so it's not just me. Maybe she's depressed and she needs friends. Since tomorrow's Friday, maybe I'll get Stacy and Tiffany to come with me to her house and we can do, like, a girl's night out to cheer her up.
HELEN: (gentle, firm) Quinn, you'll have to save those plans for Saturday. You remember what tomorrow night is?
(Quinn looks at Helen for the first time, her face growing tense.)
DARIA: Cuisine a la Jake Morgendorffer.
QUINN: But we just went to Dad's.
HELEN: And now you're going again, every Friday, as you agreed.
QUINN: Why do I have to go to Dad's on Friday night? Why does there have to be a night when I go to see Dad?!
HELEN: Fine, then. Call your father and arrange to see him on Saturday night. Just as long as it is one night every week, as you agreed.
QUINN: This is stupid. I'm almost an adult, I shouldn't have to do anything.
HELEN: (harder tone) The point is that you agreed to do it, for your father's sake.
QUINN: So? He'll probably just have his girlfriend over.
HELEN: All right, ENOUGH!
(A retort dies on Quinn's lips, and her face grows pale as Helen stands up from her chair and glares down at her younger daughter.)
HELEN: I have had it with you, Quinn. You can ignore me and treat me like I'm some kind of criminal. You can pretend you're in the shower whenever your father calls. But I will be damned if I let you shut him out of your life completely. He is your father and he loves you as much as I love you, and tomorrow night you WILL go to see him, or you will be punished! AM I MAKING MYSELF CLEAR?!
(Quinn is silent, her face changing from pale to bright red. Her expression crumbles.)
QUINN: I hate you.
(She jumps out of her chair and flees the room. Helen watches her go, her own expression crumbling a little. She puts a hand over her face until she has regained control, then returns to her place at the table. Daria remains in her seat, poking at her peas.)
HELEN: I didn't want to yell at her like that. But I feel like it's the only way I can get through to her these days.
DARIA: It is the only way you can get through to her.
HELEN: You think I don't hate this, too? Do you think I like seeing you girls this upset, that I wouldn't prefer that the four of us be together every night??
DARIA: Then why'd you get separated?
(Helen stares at her, as usual, unable to come up with a ready answer for that question. She stares down at her lap and shakes her head. Daria tosses her fork onto her plate and stands up.)
DARIA: Look, Mom, I love you and all, but right now I'm closer to Quinn's perspective than to yours. Until you can find some convincing reasons for me to feel otherwise, that's how it's going to stay.
(She turns to leave. Helen lifts her head and stares off into space, her cheeks coloring a little.)
HELEN: To think I once thought hearing you say "I love you" would be the happiest moment of my life.
DARIA: Yes, well, if only I'd been sincere.
(Daria walks away, leaving her mother alone.)
(cut to: )
SCENE 5 (bathroom)
(Daria walks in to find Quinn gasping and sobbing, tears streaming down her face as she stands over one of the sinks while the water runs. Beside her, on the counter, sit a contact lens case, lens solution, and a pair of glasses. Quinn puts her second lens in the case before turning to her sister. Daria holds open her arms -- a gesture she never would have considered even a month ago -- and Quinn sinks into them.)
QUINN: I hate her. I hate her so much...
DARIA: Why do you fight her so hard?
QUINN: Because she's selfish and thinks she controls everything and this is her fault.
(Daria strokes her back with one of her hands, trying to soothe her.)
DARIA: Last week it was all Dad's fault.
QUINN: It's both of their faults! How could she just stand there and lecture me about putting family first when she and Dad never put us first!
DARIA: I know. It feels that way... but they both love us. You know that, don't you?
QUINN: I can't stand it, Daria. I can't stand being around them. I'll never be able to make it through a whole evening with Dad! At least with Mom, I can hide in my room.
DARIA: You can make it through. I'll be there with you the whole time. We'll work out a strategy, okay? Make up special signals for when things have gotten too rough and we need to blow off some steam. Okay?
(Quinn lifts her tearstained face to mull over Daria's words. She smiles faintly.)
QUINN: Okay.
(She leans forward to hug her sister harder. Daria wraps her arms around her, taking as much comfort in her sister's presence as Quinn does in hers, and wishing she felt as confident as she sounded.)
(cut to: )
SCENE 6 (Phelps's classroom, Friday afternoon)
(Quinn walks into the room. Phelps is at the blackboard, wiping away the last period's problem sets. He turns when Quinn approaches, and although he doesn't smile, his expression suggests that he is pleased to see her.)
PHELPS: Good afternoon, Ms. Morgendorffer.
QUINN: Hi, Mr. Phelps.
(With elegant strides, Phelps walks over to his desk and reaches down to pull out a briefcase. He opens it and pulls out a few papers, which he then hands to Quinn. She looks them over and frowns.)
QUINN: More number sequences?
PHELPS: Statistics. You need to know them if you're planning to take college- level mathematics.
QUINN: I didn't think the seniors did so much of this stuff.
PHELPS: They don't. This is real university mathematics, Ms. Morgendorffer, the type I know you're more than capable of doing.
(Quinn's face flushes from the praise.)
QUINN: Thanks.
PHELPS: Imagine how you'll surprise your friends and family when you sail through the Advanced Placement exam.
(At "family," Quinn's face loses its glow.)
QUINN: Yeah.
PHELPS: Oh, and I'm afraid I can't stay late this time. I've got an appointment that I need to run off to in a moment or so.
QUINN: That's fine. I need to go home and get ready for my dad's tonight.
PHELPS: (brows lifting) Yes.
QUINN: See you Monday.
(She tucks the papers into her backpack and turns to leave. Phelps's hand brushes against her shoulder.)
PHELPS: You've been crying.
QUINN: What? Oh, no...
PHELPS: No, I can see it. Your face is red and your eyes are bloodshot. You looked like you were crying earlier today.
(Quinn steps back to look at him, feeling her body tremble a little as she nods.)
QUINN: You must think I'm such a baby.
PHELPS: What I think is that you must be truly upset to let your make-up run in plain sight of other students.
(Quinn gasps and takes out a mirror to examine her red, puffy eyes, which are streaked with mascara.)
QUINN: Why didn't anyone tell me?!
PHELPS: It doesn't matter now --
QUINN: I've been walking around all day with raccoon eyes! Oh God!
PHELPS: Maybe they were taken by the sight of your unhappiness.
(Quinn removes her cold cream and dabs it under her eyes with a cotton swab. When she has wiped it away, she is surprised to find Phelps looking at her with a gentle expression.)
PHELPS: So your parents' separation is hurting you quite a bit, is it?
(Quinn nods slowly.)
PHELPS: And your sister?
QUINN: She's fine.
PHELPS: So she's no longer emotionally distant or jealous of your talents?
(Quinn starts to nod, then catches herself and shakes her head frantically.)
QUINN: No, no, Daria's the only one in my family I can stand to be with right now. (flushes, looks at the ground.) But sometimes I'm a little nervous that I'll overwhelm her. Like if I put too much of my emotions on her all the time, I'll break her, like if one of those big fat wrestler guys sat on a rocking horse for little kids.
PHELPS: (musing) Yes... when you're so used to being out of touch with your emotions, to get them all at once can be an overpowering experience.
QUINN: I wouldn't say Daria's "out of touch" with her emotions... (She gets a distressed look.) ...but I don't want to freak her out too badly, or she might end up pulling away from me, or something.
(She smiles wanly at Phelps and starts to leave. Phelps looks at her thoughtfully.)
PHELPS: You know what? Scrap my appointment. How about I brew us a pot of tea in the teacher's lounge and we have ourselves a nice chat. What do you say?
QUINN: (surprised) Oh, no, I wouldn't want to bother you.
PHELPS: My tea has no calories, Ms. Morgendorffer.
QUINN: Oh. (brightens) All right.
(Phelps smiles a thin but genuine smile, and Quinn looks happier than she has for quite some time.)
(cut to: )
SCENE 7 (DeMartino's classroom)
(Close-up of DeMartino.)
DEMARTINO: Ms. MORgendorffer.
(Wider shot, with Daria standing beside his desk, holding her transfer notice. She lays it in front of him, and he looks at it uneasily, before picking up a pen.)
DEMARTINO: Daria, maybe we should talk.
DARIA: About what? How you knew my dad was practically having an affair, yet chose to keep quiet about it?
DEMARTINO: That's ONE of the things.
DARIA: Save your apologies. They're three months too late.
(His eye bulging, DeMartino quickly jots his name in the signature space. He slides it toward Daria, who looks at it blankly, almost as if she hadn't expected him to do it. She picks it up.)
DARIA: Look, it's not that I think you're a bad teacher or anything. Of all the classes I've had, yours was the only one where I felt it was possible to learn something I hadn't known since eighth grade. It's just looking at you makes me think too much about what's happened, and those thoughts don't belong in school, where I'm near chemical explosives and sharp metal shop tools.
DEMARTINO: (subdued) UnderSTOOD. BELIEVE me.
DARIA: Sorry in advance for Kevin and Brittany.
(DeMartino pictures a class where no one is there to counterbalance their stupidity, and groans painfully.)
(cut to: )
SCENE 8 (Lawndale High, hallway)
(Daria joins Jane, who is closing her locker.)
JANE: You did it?
DARIA: Yep.
JANE: Well I must say, amiga, I will miss having you in History to cut down idiots who think the Red Scare came from mixing colors in the wash.
DARIA: The whole class.
JANE: Right.
(Daria smirks glumly, her decision weighing on her. They walk down the hall toward the exits when, near the principal's office, Daria freezes. She watches several students walk in, their heads down and scowling.)
JANE: What's the matter?
DARIA: I know those guys. I worked with them on the underground paper.
(Her expression grows uneasy.)