The Misadventures of Daria Pigwidgeon

by Amy Lunderman

***

  While trying to be obedient and nonchalant at the same time, I sit erect in the comfiest chair ever. I swear this thing is more padded than my newly acquired over the shoulder boulder holder (courtesy of Ashley’s hand-me-down duffel, and in no way weird. Hey, my girls need love too). I have to fight the urge to lean back with a sigh of delight. I need to appear diligent before prying eyes. That of Mellissa and Mr. Mathews, who I’m just realizing might have a little flair for the dramatic.

  They’ve been in a silent pause longer than my new jeans. It’s kind of annoying. Mostly because I’m not sure what they will say. I’m not all that sure what will happen if I can’t go to school. It won’t be the end of the world or anything. But what’s the point of being me, if I can’t live a little? And this girl wants to live in high school.

  One’s nightmare is another’s dream.

  I’m one step away from screaming ‘spit it out already’ when they share a look together. It’s the first since I came in. Most eyeballing has been reserved for me. Still not sure if the news is good or bad yet. Then Mellissa breaks into a grin. So does Mr. Mathews. He turns back to me, looking much younger than his Santa Claus impersonation. A smile tugs at my lips, but I keep them sealed. Just in case.

  Mellissa flicks a glance to Mr. Mathews and says, “See, I told you she was special. Should we tell her?”

  He nods enthusiastically. I cringe. Why am I special? Tell me what?

  This has disaster written all over it.

  “Daria it seems we wasted a perfectly good school day of making you take placement tests. Instead, I should have just stuck you in all AP classes.” Mellissa tells me happily, if not a little guilty too.

  Oh. Is that all? Well I could have told them that. But then what runaway teen happens to be a sort of genius? Not many I would guess. Besides, don’t I want to minimize the attention to my weirdness?

  Yeah, I think I made the good call here.

  Still. They both grin at me like I’m the eighth world wonder. If they only knew right?

  Mr. Mathews, breaking his silence, says “The question remains, where have you been hiding your academic talents your whole life?”

  Red alert. Red alert. Bolt preparation is a must.

  While I think running out the door is sounding like a great idea, he and Mellissa share a laugh. Why are they laughing? I don’t think that question is particularly funny. And then I get it. They are implying that I’m a blessing to the school because I’ll obviously make good grades. Or that’s what I’m surmising here.

  I smile. Yep, I get it folks, don’t worry.

  “So I passed?” I say softly, my voice hardly recognizable.

  I really need to keep a bottle of water handy, otherwise I’m going to go through life constantly sounding like a frog. Not very attractive. Not in the least.

  Mellissa and Mr. Mathews share a laugh. I blush.

  “Did you pass? Of course you did sweetie.” She tells me, like I just asked if a tree is wood.

  “Oh. Good. When can I start?”

  More look sharing. More smiles. Me inwardly dry heaving.

  “Love the drive kid. I just love it. We need more like you here.” Mr. Mathews tells me with no decorum.

  Mellissa rolls her eyes at him. I smile for real. I knew I liked her.

  “Well. If you would like, I can work out your schedule and we can get you started tomorrow.”

  Wow, Daria Pigwidgeon, high school student. It definitely has a nice ring to it.

  I nod and say, “I would like nothing more.”

  Later that night, as I stock soda bottles in the coolers in the dining room at work, I still can’t believe how easy it was for me to actually get sighed up for school. I mean it wasn’t easy, easy. But it was better than me having to confess that I’ve never been before and have to start from the bottom up. Somehow, I don’t think my excitement would be the same if I had to face a bunch of kindergarteners.

  Thankfully I get to avoid that little nightmare.

  Yes, demons do have nightmares.

  After both Mellissa and Mr. Mathews got over the fact that I was apparently a hidden jem, I got sent to the waiting room of the office. Thus began me being bored for over an hour while I waited for me schedule. Loads of fun that was not. It did allow a lot of time to daydream about Chance though. Which is fast becoming my favorite pastime.

  Sadly, I haven’t seen him all day, and I can only hope he’ll star in my dreams again. That would be nice. Ugh, anyways. As I was saying, er, thinking. I was eventually relieved with a new schedule in hand, and given prompt instruction to not be late in the morning. Me late? Of course not. I’ll probably be early. Plus, I’m going to be a junior. Weird right?

  I for one thought I would’ve been a senior, but whatever. I’ll take what I can get. Most of the classes I’ll have will be AP like Mellissa said. I just hope I don’t make a fool out of myself. It’ll suck if I stand out in a bad way and go down in history as the freak. I just have to keep reminding myself that I want people to remember me. No matter what. I can’t use my memory block on anyone here. It’s wrong. Dirty.

  I need to be normal.

  Not a demon.

  A crash sounds in the back room, causing me to jump up to my feet. No one has been in since I came in, and it’s just been Toby and I again. I’m starting to think no one else works here and that’s why he hired me so fast. Regardless, I rush into the back room. Barely through the door, and I stop with a laugh. Then clamp my hands over my mouth to keep quiet.

  Poor Toby.

  He somehow managed to get himself covered in mayonnaise. And if that’s not bad enough, there must have been an explosion because the floor is covered in it too. Or I think it is. Toby is currently splayed out on his back, so anything below is out of my sight. He’s struggling to get back to his feet. Not succeeding in the least. He keeps slipping and falling back.

  Rather than stand by and watch him suffer in silence, I hurry over to help him up.

  I’m not a complete demon you know.

  Mindful of getting mayo on my new digs, I keep a relative safe distance between us. And after a couple of tries, we end up getting him safely back on his feet. If I thought he couldn’t blush any more than he already has, I was wrong. He makes mine actually look pretty.

  His eyes never land on me, even now, when I pretty much saved his life. It would be funny, if it wasn’t kind of unsettling. Even so, I still snag a rag from the counter and hand it to him. It’s not a hot shower, but it’s better than nothing.

  “Why don’t you don’t wash up. I’ll clean-up for you.” I tell him as I lean down and pry a bowl from the fallen mayo’s grasp.

  He shuffles back and forth on his feet, unsure.

  Then he says, “Will you be alright on your own?”

  On my own? What am I five? Then I realize he means ‘am I alright to handle a rush of customers, if they happen to come in on my second day?’ I glance behind me to the empty dining room and then back to Toby.

  “I think I’ll be alright. If there’s a bus load coming in, I’ll yell.”

  He nods and walks off. I’m alone.

  Cleaning the mess doesn’t take that long, and I’m actually finished before Toby. Of course I don’t have to clean it out of hair like he does. Leaning against the counter out front, I can’t help thinking. I like my life. As it is, anyway. It’s new and simple. And I like it that way.

  Things are looking up for me. I just hope my first school day is as good as my first job day.

  Somehow, I don’t think the school will be as silent as the dining room.

  Nope. I don’t think it will.

  Chapter Seven

  The following morning, after a wonderful night dreaming about Chance playing football sans shirt, I stand before my mirror judging my latest outfit. And by latest, I mean it’s about the tenth I’ve tried on already. I guess my nervousness is showing. Big surprise there – insert sarcasm here at your leisure.

  Thanks to Ashley, I am a proud owner of
a plethora of attire. Currently, I’m wearing a floor length black skirt and a short sleeve white blouse with flowers on it. It’s a little dressy for my tastes (if I have clothing tastes that it) but I think it might be the route to go. The first day of school is something to dress up for right?

  Because I was thinking about it last night and it made some sense. First days should be made special, and dressing up kind of makes a point. Or is that just for little kids that first start? Or is that picture day? Oh man, I am so out of my league. Plus, I’m pretty sure the girl in my reflection is mocking me.

  Yep, it totally is.

  Groaning, I turn back to my bed that is littered with clothes and rip off the blouse. I think the skirt might have to stay, I don’t wear them (like ever) so I really do want to try it out. As for the blouse? It’s not going to happen. I am so not a flowery blouse type of girl. Scanning the contents on the bed, I pick out a plain white long sleeve shirt. Slipping it over my head, I spin back to the mirror.

  I smile. There that’s better. I can live with that.

  To complete the outfit, I slip on my sneakers. Now I’m not being girlie. No way in heck is anyone going to think I’m purposely trying to dress up. If they do, well in that case, I’m totally zapping them. Well, not really of course. But it’s a comfort that I could of I want do. Even if I know I won’t. Not on purpose anyway.

  Finishing up, I knot up my hair and make sure it’s tight and secure. I don’t want to have to mess with it, while trying to find where my classes are. Then I snag my backup off my dresser and make sure I have at least one notebook and some sort of writing utensil. Satisfied, I decide there is nothing to do, but go. My nerves are a jumbled mess though. I consider that maybe this is all a mistake and should just stay home. But I’m already walking to the door, so that gets squashed.

  I’m halfway down the garage stairs, when I realize there is someone in here with me. Of course, the sunlight from the open door should have been a sign (if I were paying attention – which I wasn’t obviously). It’s the sound of feet moving closer, that alerts me. My hackles rise almost instantly, and it’s the night I found the duffel all over again. Except this time, the ‘something’ is moving closer rather than resting still.

  Hunching down, the smell of ozone is strong to my senses and I feel like a lightning rod waiting to be struck. That’s when Ashley reaches the base of the stairs. She gives me a funny look, glances behind her, and then back again. I realize I’m holding the banister tightly, while hovering an inch off the steps. I’m sure the word ‘sycophantic’ is running through her head right about now. Mostly it’s running through mine.

  Still looking at me funny, she says “Daria…..what’s shaking bacon?”

  I hastily get to my feet with a blush staining my cheeks. All feeling of my inner Taser fades, thankfully.

  “Nothing, you know, I just. Um, I slipped.” I shake my head with a smile, trying to brush it off. “In a hurry I guess.”

  She smiles at me as I reach the bottom of the steps.

  “Well hurry no more my silly little friend. We’re in luck. Chaufer Chance is ours for the use of getting to school.”

  I remember then. Ashley glanced behind her when I first spotted her. And sure enough, there he is. Leaning against his car again, giving me (or us) that sly smile of his. I blush even more than before. He so must have saw me (clearly not slipping) squatting on the stairs. He is probably thinking I knew they were there and was planning on avoiding them. I am such a loser. Kill me now.

  “Hey rabbit. Need a lift?” He asks.

  His eyes are practically sparkling. I’m practically drooling.

  Ashley faces him though, with her hands on her hips and says, “Of course she needs a lift. We’re not leaving her behind.” Then she spins back to me, making me feel like maybe I should avoid them (her). “We’re not leaving you behind. So no hiding.”

  Alright, so now they both think I tried to avoid them. Can things ever just be simple? I’m not asking for much here. Just, you know an easy start to a day.

  “Pipe down Ash, no one’s leaving anyone behind. But you’d better get the car, before I change my mind and leave you.” Chance tells his sister.

  She scoffs, but does what he says and climbs in the front passenger seat. Her long blonde hair flaps at the speed she moves. I have to wonder if he really would leave her. But when I glance back to him, he’s grinning in a way that I now he’s not serious. It makes my nerves calm down. I realize that it would have bothered me if he were serious. Not that my opinion matters.

  All thought disappears when he turns to me.

  “How ‘bout it rabbit? Brave enough to leave your burrow?”

  Ha, my burrow, as in making fun of ‘rabbit’? I’d totally call him a weirdo if my pulse wasn’t racing above the norm at the moment. So basically, I do a fish imitation again. It’s fast becoming ‘my thing’, among other things (a long list of foibles I’m acquiring here). Then he opens his door, holds the seat up, and winks at me.

  Like I could really say anything but yes right now, I nod as I march over to him.

  Skirting around him, I try to be even smaller than I already am. As if I can make him forget me without using me ability. It doesn’t work. His eyes follow me like a hawk. And when I lean down to hop in the back, a light touch on my arm stills me.

  I glance up at him. Expecting some funny little quip about my nervousness, smiling comes easy. Only, he’s not smiling. In fact, he seems overly serious. My smile slips.

  He releases his hand from my arm and runs it through his hair in his own nervous gesture. He lets it fall though, and a smile plays across his lips once more.

  “Just, ugh, wanted to make sure you were all right. And you are right?” He asks softly.

  I nod. He nods. He smiles. I frown.

  Once in the car, I can’t help staring at him through the rear view mirror as he backs us out of the garage. Why wouldn’t I be alright? And why would he seem so worked up about it? I shake my head and shift my gaze out of the window instead. Boys. Who knows what goes through their minds. All I know, is my reaction to him.

  And what a reaction it is. I can still feel his hand on my arm, or maybe it’s just goosebumps.

  “So, are we ready for a great day or what?” Ashley says with an excited lite to her voice.

  I’m ready for something. I just don’t think its school. Not when my pulse is skyrocketing and every inch of me is tomato red. I just hope this reaction is just a Chance thing. Because to be honest? I couldn’t handle having this reaction to every cute boy I meet. Then again. I doubt every boy I meet will leave an impression like Chance.

  But still, I hope not.

  ***

  Thankfully the ride to school is less provoking. In that mostly Ashley does all the talking and Chance just grunts or nods. Me? I stay silent. Too much going on in my head, to even think about letting myself speak. I’d like to say that I’m solely thinking about my first day of school. But I can’t. That would be a lie. And as hard as I try, I can’t get the serious look on Chance out of my mind.

  I guess it’s not just the look, but more like the feeling I got. It’s hard to explain. Especially since I just met the boy and shouldn’t be able to read him that well. But that is what I did. Somehow, I know something is going on and it’s more than what is on the surface. Or maybe it’s me reading into something that isn’t even there. This is very likely. I must just be trying to make a connection. Right?

  By the time we reach the school parking lot, I have myself convinced. Or enough to push the crazy thoughts aside so that I can focus on the task at hand, anyways. But then I realize something. This is my first real day of school, and my mind spins into a tailspin. My palms get sweaty. My heart races faster than the average jog. My breath comes in shallow pants. My entire body feels like lead, I can’t move. I don’t want to move. This was a mistake. I can’t be here.

  How could I have been so stupid?

  What demon in their right mind wants to go to
school? What teenager wants to for that matter? If I could even move a smidge, I’d totally make a break for it. All my eager plans are just pointless. I shouldn’t even be here. I just know something is going to happen. How could I think I can just blend in? I’m such a moron. Why am I not moving? I have to get out of here. Now. Oh someone help. Help me.

  Before I can worry why my inner Taser isn’t coming out to help me, I have half a thought that the car has been parked and been vacated. All the air whooshes out of my lungs. My body quivers at the same time my stomach makes an awful flip flop that makes my mouth water. That’s when the black spots appear before my eyes and vertigo sets in. I’m so about to welcome the oncoming darkness of my vision, when something soft and hot lightly cups my cheeks.

  A voice calls out in the darkness.

  “Rabbit.”

  It tugs at my consciousness, but I’m a little too busy to car. Can’t whoever it is see I’m trying to pass out? Why can’t they let me just have a good panic attack. I think it’s well deserved. But it doesn’t go away and neither does the warmth on my cheeks.

  “Open your eyes rabbit. Don’t go passing out on me, you here. Come on, you can do it. Just breathe.”

  Something clicks in my rattled head. Rabbit. I know that from somewhere. Chance has been calling me that. It would be rather annoying if it didn’t sound so endearing coming from him. Chance? Why is he talking to me like I’m freaking out? Oh right. I think I am.

  My eyes open.

  “Good girl. That wasn’t so hard right? Can you take a deep breath for me? Come on, I know you can do it.”

  That’s when I realize that I’m somehow holding my breath. Like my body is on strike or something. But I can’t do it. Take a breath I mean. And not because I’m still freaking out. It’s because he’s so close to me. At some point between pulling up to the school and my panic, he got in the back with me. I don’t remember that. Or the part where he took my cheeks, in between his hands. That’s the warmth I feel. His warmth.

  But why is he so hot? I mean the temperature. I couldn’t begin to understand why he’s so pretty. His blue eyes bore into me, and under different circumstances I might’ve blushed. But I don’t. He gives a hard but gentle squeeze to me cheeks, like he’s trying to tell me something, but what? Oh. Right. Stupid me. I have to breathe. So I do as he says. I suck in the biggest gulp of air and my lungs expand with a hiss. Tears prickle at my eyes.