"Duuude."
Trent sounded even more stoned than usual.
"What? It's coffee. Even you could make it." Jane flipped the switch to "brew."
"No. It's Daria."
Jane raised an eyebrow, but Trent wasn't paying attention. She sighed and pushed her way past him.
Daria was sitting on the couch, staring at the floor. Her cheeks were pink.
The crush on Trent was long over, so what the fuck...? "Hey," Jane said. Daria didn't answer.
Trent wandered in and perched on the edge of the couch. Daria's blush intensified. Jane looked from one to the other.
"Will somebody please tell me what's going on?"
"I don't—"
Trent interrupted. "Daria's an elf."
Jane blinked. Daria leaned her elbows on her knees and hid her face in her hands.
"Okay, I realize you don't normally make a lot of sense before—"
"Check out the ears."
Daria slumped further.
Damned brother. "Trent, this isn't funny."
"He's not joking." Daria's voice was muffled.
Jane stopped mid-thought. "What?"
Daria tucked a strand of hair behind her ears, which were...pointy. Jane floundered. Leave it to Daria to come out as something this weird.
"Hey, it's not so bad," she offered finally. Daria didn't raise her head, but she spread her fingers enough to look up.
Jane grinned. "The combat boots beat the hell out of curly-toed shoes."
(221 words)
The End