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Or at least that was what most of the supposedly well-meaning people in her life made Daria feel.
If only Yanna and Alyx were with her, Daria thought. Maybe she wouldn’t feel so depressed and pessimistic. But both her friends were tied down with eight-to-five jobs, and neither had been able to ask for a leave of absence to accompany her to Teleios.
Frustration turned into restlessness, and Daria got to her feet determinedly. Patting the sand off her shorts, she stalked towards the closest vending machine. An idea had occurred to her, more fanciful than practical, but since she had tried everything to get out of her romantic slump, Daria decided she might as well try it as a last resort.
After slipping a one-dollar bill into the machine, Daria grabbed the bottle of Gatorade that fell out of the machine’s dispenser. Uncapping it, she drank the entire thing in one gulp. Step one done, she thought while heading back to her isolated spot on the shore.
There were more people out and about now, mostly families heading off to snorkel or to join one of the island-hopping tours offered by the locals. Heads turned as Daria walked past them, with men mostly gaping while the women with them scowled. The extreme contrast in people’s reaction to her wasn’t new, and Daria paid it no heed.
Sinking back down to the sand in a sitting position, Daria placed the empty bottle next to her and pulled out her notepad and pen from the back pocket of her shorts. Flipping to the first blank page, Daria began to draw.
After finishing high school, she had chosen to sign up for a one-year drawing course in Japan and had been working freelance as a kawaii artist since then. Her first illustration was of a curly-haired girl with a thought bubble over her head.
Dear God,
Please help me find the right person for me. I no longer care if he’s butt-ugly or homeless. I just need help to find the man who’s meant for me.
If it meets Your plans, I only ask that he be the following:
She flipped the page and drew the second illustration on its back.
He must love me as me.
He may want me to change, but it’s only so I can reach my best potential.
2. He must love and respect my mother or learn to do so.
Daria bit the end of her pen as she studied her requests with its accompanying drawings. Those weren’t too much, right? At the end of the day, those were the only ones that mattered. Everything else was superficial. Nodding to herself, she moved to the next page and started drawing again. This time, she drew a princess surrounded by frogs, with a strip of text above.
Since I have a really bad track record for mistaking princes as frogs, I only ask that You give me a sign. Could you please have this man show up in my life with a—-
She paused again. She had to think of a symbol that wouldn’t be so ubiquitous or that would defeat the entire purpose of her experiment. She looked down absent-mindedly, and the character design painted on her pen caught her gaze.
Oh.
That was it. That was another sign, actually. She drew several circles and colored several of them black.
Could you please have this man show up in my life with a PANDA?
She flipped to another page, and this time she drew a piece of paper, containing the continuation of her letter to God, floating in the wind.
Thank You, God. That’s all I ask. This time, I’ll stop kissing frogs and simply let things happen the way they’re meant to happen.
Also, as my personal sacrifice, I will promise never to—-
Daria’s pen stilled mid-air. What could she offer as a personal sacrifice that she had a chance of keeping? She thought about it real hard, and only one answer came to her. She began to draw again, placing various symbols on top of the girl’s head before ending the series of characters with several exclamation points.
I promise never to curse again (Oh my God not included).
Amen.
Tearing off the illustrated pages from her notepad with a flourish, Daria carefully folded them several times until they were reduced into tiny square pieces. Her heart was beating so hard and fast right now, and the fact made her smile, giddily and sheepishly, but also it made her smile in relief.
She had hated being so depressed about love. It was her greatest fear because if she lost hope, she was terrified Magnolia would feel the same thing, and Daria didn’t want that. She didn’t ever want that, not when the last time Magnolia was depressed, she had almost overdosed on sleeping pills.
Her hands shook as she reached for the bottle, and she felt her stomach drop the same time she let the last piece of paper fall inside.
God be with you, Gatorade bottle, Daria thought as she twisted the cap back in place.
