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Daria held the phone in her hand, hovering one finger over the keypad. She knew the number well enough, having called it in more than one moment of emotional crisis. Come on, her internal monologue rang, you know her. If you can't talk to her about this, who else is there?
When she was unable to think of another name (Daria ruled out opting for the ordeal of professional help long ago), she slowly punched in the digits. She could hear the ring as she moved the receiver to her ear. It wasn't too long before the call connected. "Hey, Aunt Amy? It's Daria."
"Hey, Daria!" Amy replied, her enthusiasm muted, but nonetheless present. "How's life?"
"It's alright." Now or never, I guess. "Can I uh, ask you a weird question?"
"Sure! Those are the best kind."
"Have you ever kissed a girl?"
The silence from the other end rang in her ears. For a single moment, she could feel her worst fears materializing before her, her last hope failing her. "Forgive me for answering with a question, Daria," came Amy's reply after the moment passed, "but have you ever seen me bring any men around to family events?"
Daria was taken aback. Was Aunt Amy saying that she was..? Daria didn't want to hope; it sounded too good to be true. "I don't know, I thought that just meant you were smart," she deflected. "Who would want a date to see that much of our family, right?"
"I'll take the compliment, I suppose. Can I ask why you're so interested, then?" The question was simple, but Daria could hear a note of sympathy in Amy's voice, and knew, finally, that she could speak her mind.
"So, it started at this stupid party." Daria began, trying not to picture the moment too vividly. "We only ended up there because of some stupid-" she stopped, realizing how much explanation would be required. "The point is, I didn't even want to be there, but Jane found a group playing Spin the Bottle."
Daria remembered the look Jane gave her when they sat down in the circle of teens. She hadn't been able to quite read her friend then; maybe trying not to appear out of place distracted her. She certainly didn't notice when Jane took her turn, only realizing what was up when the chorus of high schoolers reacted to the result.
"Hello, Daria? What happened? Are you still there?"
Amy's words snapped Daria from her recollection. She cleared her throat, attempting to appear nonchalant. "Well, uh. She spun the bottle. Then she...got me."
"Got you?" Amy chuckled. "She should be so lucky!" Her voice softened, however, as she asked, "So, has that been on your mind a lot?"
"Well, uh. I've been having some...feelings, recently," she started lamely. "I don't really know what to do with them."
"There's not many options on what to do with feelings, Daria. You just have to feel them." Amy paused before adding, "There's nothing wrong with that."
Daria thought she heard a crack in her aunt's voice. She decided to blame it on the connection.
"Well, what about when those feelings involve someone...too close?"
"Ah," Amy replied, following where Daria was going. "I see. Is this the part where you tell me you're in love with Jane?"
Daria's face fell in her hands. She felt pathetic. "I wish you didn't have to put it so plainly like that."
"Kiddo, I hope you're not under the mistaken impression that you're the first young lesbian to fall for her best friend." Amy paused, adding quietly, "I know what that feels like."
Daria took a moment to chew on that before continuing. A lesbian, she thought. Is that what I am? When she finished thinking, she spoke quietly, as if a lower volume would diminish the weight of her worries. "I just don't want to lose her, you know? Most of the time I'd never even consider doing something to hurt our friendship, but I can't just pretend there's not a huge chance she'll reject me."
"Well, Daria, that's just it. You have to be honest with yourself," she intoned, "is the risk of rejection outweighed by the potential rewards of her actually reciprocating your feelings? Besides, if what you've told me is true, I wouldn't rule out the possibility of success."
Daria felt a blush climb in her cheeks, and couldn't help but remember that rash she'd gotten back when she was crushing on Trent. "Can I ask another question?" she managed. "When did you figure out that you were, you know..."
"Junior year of high school. She was a cheerleader. We didn't stick together long, but she still writes." A note of wistfulness crept into Amy's voice. "Maybe I should call her, sometime..."
Daria rolled her eyes, not realizing she was smirking for a moment. "Good luck with that, Casanova."
"I could say the same." Before Daria could hang up, Amy spoke one last time. "Hey, Daria? I'm really proud of you, y'know?" She cleared her throat. "It takes a lot of guts to get as far as you have."
Daria didn't often find herself at a loss for words. It was even less often that she found herself crying. But, as she felt tears trail their way down her cheeks, all she could choke out was a rough, "Thank you."
"Goodnight, Daria." Amy replied. Before finally hanging up, she added, "And tell Jane she's got me to deal with if she breaks your heart."
As Daria hung up the phone, she laid back on her bed, spread-eagle. The world hadn't ended, after all. She'd spoken the truth aloud, and no chasm had opened in the earth to swallow her. Things were okay. What the hell, she thought. I guess I could make this work.
