Daria leaned back in her cafeteria chair and cradled her Sprite. “Did you get into trouble for breaking curfew last night?”
Amy mumbled. Daria rolled her eyes. “What?”
Mumble mumble.
Daria took a sip of her Sprite. She had this theory. Amy couldn’t decide if she wanted people to notice her or not. Sometimes she’d mumble…
“Well! Aren’t you going to say anything!”
… and sometings she’d yell.
“I would,” Daria said, “if I knew what you were saying.”
“If you cared, you’d pay attention,” Amy said, twirling the spaghetti on her cafeteria tray around her fork.
“If you want to be heard, you speak up.”
“I spill my guts and you say ‘What?’. Some friend.”
Daria leaned her elbows on the table and looked Amy in the eye. “I’m listening. Say it just as loud as you just did.”
“I’m grounded!” Amy said, louder than any of the other words she’d spoken.
“Aww, shit,” Daria said. She wasn’t sure how that was spilling-guts information, but Amy thought it was. “I’ll com over after school.”
“No. They think you’re the reason. You’ll just make it worse.”
Daria moved her straw up and down. “So… don’t see you?”
“Yeah.”
Daria wasn’t sure she could go a week without Amy. “Okay.”
Bearing Untold Stories 