Daria: Is It Fall Yet?

Year:
2000
208 Views


Well, students... I certainly appreciate your help in cleaning out the classroom

for the summer. It almost makes me forget that most of you didn't learn a thing

all year!

That's not true. I learned to sleep sitting up.

Mr. D., as Q.B., I think I can speak for...

Careful with that map, Kevin!

Eep!

Now... without turning around. Did you want to dangle a morsel of hope before me

by announcing you're doing something constructive this summer, like partaking in

much-needed remedial classes or some sort of vocation?

I'm not going on vacation. Me and Britt are going to be lifeguards.

No turning, Kevin!

Urk!

Do not turn until... did you say lifeguards?

It'll be really easy 'cause I already know how to use... oops! Um, a bullhorn?

Augh... argh! Why couldn't I have been born during an influenza epidemic? Or at

the base of a volcano? Why did I survive, grow tall and strong, only to squander

all my potential by becoming a teacher?! Argh... !

When he would have made such a wonderful motivational speaker.

Now remember, the P-STATs are a good "dry run" for your college boards. If you

got 1,200 points or better, kudos! You'll have a wide and exciting choice of

colleges. And for those with less, uh, robust scores, there are still wonderful

opportunities in the food services sector.

Hmm... 940.

Yeah... comparable.

All right, have a rewarding and growth-filled summer, everyone. And by the way,

we still have openings for counselors at the Okay to Cry Corral, my day camp for

sensitive children and those who'd like to be. It's going to be wonderful.

I hope... some of... um... all right, then. I'll miss you all, too. Quinn, you'd

like to join the roundup at the Okay to Cry Corral and make a difference in a

child's life?

Why would I want to do that? I just, um, need to ask you something.

Problems at home? Is it your mother? She seems awfully stressed. Has she been

acting out on you?

It's about my test score.

Oh...

Um, let's say you got a certain score on a test, and it wasn't terrible, but

some other people got almost the same score, people you really thought you could

do better than, although for personal reasons you'd rather not name them or say why?

Um... what?

Okay, forget everything I just said. Let's try this. Can I get into Pepperhill

with a 955?

Pepperhill University. It is known more for its wide range of social activities

than for academics, but... ah! Uh-oh. I'm afraid to get into Pepperhill you'll

need a combined score of at least 1,000.

But that's not fair! I didn't have time to study with my Fashion Club duties.

Don't extracurricular activities count for anything?

Hmm. You think you might have done better if you'd studied? Who were those other

people you mentioned?

I told you to forget them.

Eep! Of course you did. Well, Quinn, if you think studying would help, I say go

for it! Take this summer to crack the books. Hire a tutor. Put your nose to the

proverbial grindstone.

What's wrong with my nose?

I think I'm finally finding out what it feels like to be a Lane.

That can't be, since it's only afternoon and you're already out of bed.

I mean the lack of tiresome parental involvement. Mine have been so busy they've

completely forgotten to force me into some dumb summer activity. I'm turning

into you.

Well, you've got so much else of mine, you might as well have my identity.

Hey... !

Take a joke, Daria. Anyway, que ironico. You don't have summer plans, I do.

Ironico's not a word.

This old commune-mate of my mother's runs an artists' colony. I've been accepted

into their summer program.

That's great...

That sounds sincere.

Why didn't you say anything?

I didn't want to jinx it. Two months of painting and sculpting my heart out in a

college town in the middle of nowhere. Starting this weekend.

Does this college town have a name, or do you just turn left at the kid with the tractor?

Cheer up, Daria. Without me around, you'll have that much more time for your

budding social life.

This college book said you need a score of 1,000 and a B-minus average to get

into Pepperhill.

God, we're only flesh and blood.

Stacy... eww.

Sorry.

So we'll go somewhere else. Somewhere that appreciates our specialness and individuality.

But I'm sure I can do better on those tests.

You can do better?

We. Did I say me? We.

Gee, Quinn, I'm glad you think you're so much smarter than the rest of us, but

you're worried about nothing. We have plenty of time to pull up our test scores

next year.

Yeah! No sweat.

Stacy... eww.

Sorry.

More waffles, Dad? I found an extra stick of butter.

No thanks... the old diet, you know. May second? Hey! It's June! These waffles

have expired!

Relax, Jake. That's a sell-by date. They've been frozen since then. They're fine.

Easy for you to say. You didn't just eat four poisoned waffles!

Mom's right. Besides, if you had food poisoning you'd be developing a very mild

stomachache by now.

A mild stomachache? I think I have one, damn it!

Jake, can't you ever tell when anyone's joking?

Of course I can. Um... you're not doing it now, are you?

It's June?! Oh, my gosh, Daria, what are you doing this summer?

I was wondering when you'd ask, but don't worry. I have a job.

Good for you, kiddo.

I see... and what exactly is this job?

I'm sorry, but the confidentiality agreement I signed with the government

prevents me from revealing that. I've already said too much.

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Glenn Eichler

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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