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Come on, Jane, you know you’re better than this.
The backseats of Trent's car were crammed, you’d have to be a circus performer to be able to fit back there. Unfortunately, neither Daria or Jane were clowns or acrobats. Jane sat in the passenger seat with Daria shamefully in her lap, arms folded and eyes only focusing on the window. Trent was the worst driver the two of them knew, constantly running into potholes and swerving into other lanes. Jane had her arms wrapped around Daria’s waist, earning her a sarcastic comment;
“Buy me dinner first.”
Jane didn’t laugh, instead sighing and resting her head on Daria's shoulder. She's better than this. She’s better than to feel nervous about her best friend in her lap, she’s better than to push it a step further and interlock their hands. Daria's better than this too, why hasn’t she slapped Jane's hand away?
Daria shifted slightly, feeling Jane’s breath against her neck. "I'm serious," Jane muttered, her voice unusually soft. "This is why I always let you drive."
"Because I’m a
safer
driver?” Daria deadpanned, her eyes still locked on the passing blur of streets.
“Exactly,” Jane said, her tone dry but not without affection. “You're like the human equivalent of a seatbelt. Only, you know, with a sharper sense of sarcasm.”
Daria rolled her eyes but didn’t respond, instead focusing on the way Trent’s car rattled over another pothole. She clenched her jaw, bracing for impact, but even that didn’t seem to phase Jane, who was still nestled in the passenger seat. Despite herself, Daria found her chest tight, a strange mix of irritation and... something else. She wasn’t sure what, but she didn’t want to dwell on it.
"Trent!" Jane called out, though her tone had lost its usual edge. "Could you, like,
not
aim for every crater in the road?"
Trent didn't even look up from the wheel. "What? Oh, sorry, I didn’t see that one." He grinned in the rearview mirror. "But hey, you two are getting closer, right? What’s the problem?"
Daria shot Jane a look. Jane just shrugged, though there was a tiny spark in her eyes. "Yeah, closer. Real close. Like 'together in a car' close."
Daria made a noise of indifference, even though she felt her face heat up at the implication. Jane, as always, had a way of making the ordinary seem loaded with potential disaster. Trent, oblivious as ever, hummed along to the song on the radio, the whole situation absurd but oddly... comfortable, in its chaos.
“I can feel your heartbeat. I had no clue you had a heart.”
Jane didn’t either, but with this interaction it was now painfully obvious something was pumping love through her.
“I can feel yours, too.”
“That's not my heart, that’s my migraine. it’s pulsing through my body.”
Jane suppressed her laugh and, unknowingly, pulled Daria closer. Instead of another remark, the brunette sighed and let herself drown in the cologne Jane always wore. Why does it smell so good now? it’s always given the poor girl a headache, why is it suddenly charming? Maybe, just maybe Jane
was
what’s charming, not the cologne. Unlike Jane, Daria wasn’t interested in falling in love with her best friend (right?), maybe she was just wanting the other girl to do her no good, and she definitely looked like she could.
The feelings were mutual, there was no need to say anything else. Daria shifted and intertwined their fingers, rubbing Jane's hand with her thumb. “Soft...you’ve got weirdly soft hands.”
“That's a weird compliment.”
“It’s the only compliment you’ll get.”
Jane finally cracked a smile. “No, it’s not.”
Daria sighed again. “No, it’s not.”
Either they were too loud, or Trent was too deaf to hear the radio, because soon enough the volume was shot up. Jane kept her head resting on Daria’s shoulder, continuing to whisper in her ear.
“I can still feel your migraine, it’s like it’s pulsing faster.” Jane teased, daring to pull Daria tighter.
Daria tensed.
“It’s your cologne, it’s making my head spin.”
“Or maybe
I'm
making your head spin.”
Daria shot her a sharp look, though the effect was somewhat undermined by the fact that her hand was still resting on Jane’s arm, her fingers idly tracing the fabric of Jane’s sleeve.
“Don’t get too cocky,” Daria replied, her voice low but steady. “You’re not that charming.”
Jane’s grin widened. “Oh, come on, Daria. You can’t tell me there’s not at least a little bit of truth in that. You can’t resist me.”
Daria rolled her eyes but didn't pull away. “I think it’s your ego that’s making my head spin,” she muttered, closing her eyes and leaning a little more into Jane, the warmth of her presence oddly comforting despite the jab.
“Keep telling yourself that,” Jane murmured, her voice softer now.
The radio’s volume buzzed in the background, but it felt distant, like everything in that moment was narrowing to the quiet space between them. Jane shifted closer, her breath warm against Daria’s ear.
Daria didn't pull away, not yet, though a small part of her wanted to. She couldn’t quite figure out what was going on, but her heartbeat was picking up pace, and it wasn’t entirely because of the migraine.
"So," Jane whispered, a playful edge creeping back into her tone, "what’s the verdict? Still think I’m just a headache?"
Daria's lips twitched, fighting the smile threatening to break through. "I'm not sure I want to find out."
“Good,” Jane said, her voice teasing and soft. “Because I’m not finished yet.”
Daria's heart skipped a beat, but she kept her cool—at least on the outside. She straightened slightly, keeping her face as neutral as possible, though the subtle shift in her body language betrayed her.
"Finished with what, exactly?" she asked, her tone an artful mix of skepticism and curiosity. She knew Jane well enough to know that whatever was coming next was likely something that would make her squirm, but she couldn’t deny there was an undeniable pull to Jane’s presence, an electricity that she couldn’t seem to shake off.
Jane’s grin softened, the playful edge to her voice melting into something a little more genuine. “I don’t know… maybe I’m just trying to figure you out.” She gave Daria a sidelong glance, her gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “And maybe I think you’re making it way harder than it needs to be.”
Daria raised an eyebrow. “What, because you’re the
expert
on figuring people out now?”
“Maybe,” Jane said with a shrug, but there was something almost vulnerable in her tone now. "I’ve got a lot of practice, you know? It’s just… you’re different. And I think you like pretending you’re not."
Daria’s heart gave a strange thud in her chest, but she masked it with a scoff. “I’m not the one pretending here, Jane.”
“You’re always pretending,” Jane replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “To be indifferent. To not care. To not…” Her words trailed off, but the silence between them filled in the gaps.
Daria’s throat tightened, her mind racing to find a retort, but it was like her usual defenses were slipping, leaving her exposed. She swallowed hard, willing herself to stay in control.
“I don’t
pretend
anything,” she said, though the edge was gone from her voice now. “I just don’t make things as complicated as you do.”
Jane leaned in a little closer, her breath brushing Daria’s ear. "Maybe you should, though. Maybe you should let yourself get a little... complicated."
There it was again, that pull, the thing she couldn’t ignore no matter how hard she tried. Daria’s pulse quickened, and for a moment, she almost wanted to believe Jane. Almost.
But she wouldn’t let herself.
The car hit another pothole, and Daria let out a barely audible grunt of frustration. Jane winced, clearly feeling the same jolt. “I swear, if he doesn’t stop driving like this, we’re going to end up in another dimension. One where car accidents are the only form of entertainment.”
Daria didn’t respond, her arms still crossed tightly as she stared out the window, trying to ignore the way her pulse seemed to quicken whenever Jane shifted against her. It was ridiculous, of course. Jane was Jane. And she was… well,
Daria
. They’d been friends for so long, this kind of thing shouldn’t have felt…
weird
.
“You okay?” Jane asked suddenly, her voice just shy of serious.
Daria blinked, surprised at the question. “Yeah, I’m fine.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say that wouldn’t make the situation even more awkward, so she opted for another deadpan. “Why, you getting concerned?”
Jane gave a short, snorting laugh. “Not concerned. Just... checking. You’ve been quiet for a while. I thought maybe the silence was from the whole ‘your lap is a human cushion’ thing.”
“Oh, it’s not the
lap
thing,” Daria said quickly, hoping her tone sounded dismissive rather than guilty. “It’s more the ‘Trent is going to crash us into a tree’ thing. That’s what I’m concerned about.”
Jane rolled her eyes but there was a warmth to her expression now, a shift from the usual sarcasm. She nudged Daria with her shoulder. “Yeah, I get that. He’s a
lot
to handle. But you can’t pretend like you’re not secretly enjoying the chaos."
Daria was quiet for a beat longer than she intended, chewing on Jane’s words more than the question itself. “I’m not enjoying anything,” she said, but it came out softer than she’d intended.
For a moment, the only sound was Trent humming along to the radio. But then Jane spoke again, quieter this time. “You don’t have to act tough all the time, you know.”
Daria’s gaze snapped to her. “What?”
Jane shrugged, her fingers still loosely clutching Daria’s waist. “I don’t know. Just… maybe you could give yourself a break every now and then.”
Daria felt the familiar knot in her stomach twist, but for once, she didn’t try to talk her way out of it. She just let herself sit there, in the uncomfortable silence that stretched between them.
The car swerved again, narrowly missing a mailbox, and Daria gripped the seat in front of her. Jane looked over at her with a smirk. “See? Chaos.”
Daria huffed out a laugh, more out of relief than anything. “I think ‘chaos’ is an understatement.”
“Yeah, well, we’re still alive,” Jane said. “For now.”
Daria glanced at her, meeting her eyes for a second longer than necessary. Then she looked away, focusing on the road ahead, but her heart was still beating just a little too fast. She was now becoming aware that this closeness with Jane was an overwhelming crush waiting to burst.
"Trent’s a terrible driver," Daria finally muttered, forcing her voice back into its usual monotone. “But you don’t have to… you don’t have to hold on to me like that.”
Jane’s hand paused. It wasn’t a move to let go, though. It lingered for a second longer than it needed to, her thumb brushing once more along Daria’s ribs before it relaxed. “I’m not
holding on
to you,” Jane said, her voice a little too casual, like she was trying to hide something. “I’m just… making sure you don’t get whiplash.”
Daria’s mind raced, trying to latch onto something—anything—to bring her back to her normal, sarcastic self. But when Jane’s breath stirred against her ear, when Jane’s heartbeat seemed to sync with hers, the irony wasn’t funny anymore.
“Right,” Daria said, her voice barely a whisper. “Sure.”
For a moment, everything was still. The chaos of Trent’s driving, the unspoken words between them, the palpable tension in the air—it all seemed to converge into this one tiny space where nothing made sense and everything felt too big. Too raw.
Then, without warning, Jane turned her head slightly, her face so close that Daria could feel the faint warmth of her skin, the almost imperceptible brush of Jane’s lips near her temple. It was the kind of closeness that made Daria’s breath hitch, the kind of proximity that made her entire body buzz with something she couldn’t name, but could no longer ignore.
“Daria,” Jane whispered, her voice low, almost tentative. The air between them seemed to crackle with tension.
Daria felt the shift in the atmosphere like a shift in the earth’s gravity. She knew this moment—
this
moment—was one of those that would either stretch into something she couldn’t take back or dissolve into nothing. And the thought of it dissolving into nothing, of Jane letting go, made something tighten painfully in her chest. She wasn’t sure what it was, but it hurt in a way that made her heart ache in the silence between them.
“Are you…” Jane’s words trailed off as she met Daria’s eyes, and for the first time, Daria saw something in her gaze that she couldn’t decipher. It wasn’t the usual teasing, wasn’t the usual smugness. It was something deeper, something raw and unguarded, and it left Daria feeling exposed.
Her mind scrambled, but her mouth didn’t obey. Instead, she exhaled slowly, too aware of the way her breath came out uneven. “Are we really doing this?” The words slipped out before she could stop them, and the second they did, she regretted them.
Jane’s lips curled into a slight, amused smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Doing what, exactly?”
Daria’s throat tightened, but she couldn’t back out now. “You know... this.
Us.
”
Jane’s gaze softened, almost imperceptibly. “I don’t know, Daria. Do you want us to be doing this?”
The question hit Daria like a punch to the gut. She swallowed hard, her heartbeat loud in her ears. The air between them was electric now, charged with the unspoken words, the unsaid feelings, the tension that had been building for years but had never been this close to the surface. For a second, she thought she might say something stupid, something she’d regret, but then the words came, softer than she expected, barely above a whisper.
“I don’t know what I want,” Daria confessed, her voice cracking ever so slightly. She hated how vulnerable it sounded, but there it was. Out in the open. The truth she’d been trying to bury.
Jane’s hand tightened just a fraction around her waist, and for the briefest of moments, their eyes locked—trapped in that space where everything felt
too much
and yet not enough at all.
“You don’t have to know, Daria,” Jane said, her voice low, her breath warm against Daria’s cheek. “But whatever this is…” She let the words hang between them, like a promise or a threat, Daria couldn’t decide. “I’m okay with it.”
The words settled in the air, and everything else seemed to blur into the background. Trent’s mindless driving, the potholes, the noise—they were all distant now, unimportant, because in this moment, it was just them. Just Daria and Jane. A world that was so simple and so complicated at once. And for the first time, Daria didn’t feel the need to hide from it.
Her heart raced, and she wasn’t sure whether it was the proximity, the confession, or something else entirely, but in that breathless pause, she found herself wanting to lean in, to close the distance. But Jane was already there, her lips barely a whisper from Daria’s ear, her breath mingling with Daria’s, and it felt like the world was waiting for her to make the next move.
Daria had never been good at
this
, at making the leap when it counted. But this time, something inside her stirred, something that wasn’t just the chaos of the car or the heat of Jane’s body against hers.
“Alright, this is your stop, Daria.”
The romance was over, tomorrow, Jane and Daria wouldn’t talk about the ‘car incident’, and they’d continue to bury their crushes in the love graveyard.
“Thanks, Trent…” She was out of the car. “Bye, Jane.”
“Bye, Daria.”
The door was shut, the car was gone,
Jane
was gone.
And so were her obsessive crushing thoughts.