Pretty in.... Pink?

At dinner that night, Helen asked, with poorly concealed eagerness, “So Daria, how was your first day as a candy striper?”

Quinn nearly choked on a lettuce leaf.

“Fine. Pretty normal day actually.” Daria replied in her usual tone. “Half of it was spent tormenting the fashion club...”

“Daria!” Quinn whined.

“It’s all right, Quinn. They still think I’m your cousin.... or whatever. And I’m happy to keep it that way. And the other half was spent hanging out with a member of the Lane family.”

“Daria...”

“Don’t look so scared mom. I didn’t spend the day pretending to talk to Jane.” Daria sighed and figured she might as well say who. “It was Trent.”

“Oh was he volunteering too?” Jake asked excitedly. He scowled at no one in particular and shook his fist at the ceiling. “See Dad! Boys can volunteer too! But would you let me? No!!!! Boys can’t volunteer for nursing duty! That’s women’s work!!!!”

“Jake, your blood pressure!” Helen said warningly.

“Not unless he voluntarily agreed to be injected with bacterial pneumonia for some weird medical experiment.” Daria took a small bite of meat loaf.

“EWWWW!” Quinn squealed. “I’m glad I work as a waitress.”

“Yes. No place more sanitary than a restaurant kitchen.”

“Daria, I’m glad you had a good first day but... the hospital might look askance at a candy striper who spends all day with one patient.”

“First of all mom, I’m a volunteer, not an employee. And I’m certainly doing more than the rest of them. Besides Trent’s is just the sort of case candy stripers are taken on for.” Daria read from her training booklet, “Patients in chronic discomfort but no immediate danger.” She closed the book. “And Trent qualifies there.... unless the fever spikes dangerously high or a lung collapses in which case my job becomes to run like hell and find a real nurse.”

“Oh. Well all right then.”