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Quinn was once again rattling on about nothing in particular: "So, like, they made us all like stick ourselves with these needle thingies and squeeze out a drop of blood, it was SOOO gross, and when I put it on the piece of paper it didn't work or something because it didn't change color."
"Huh? That can't be right. Mom is type AB+, and dad is B+. There's no way you could be O-."
"How would you know Daria?"
"I checked the records a few years back. I was hoping I'd been adopted."
"Hah hah, very funny. I only wish you were, and your parents would take you back."
"No such luck for either of us. But that still doesn't explain about your blood test."
"Oh, you know, I probably just got it wrong. I'm no good at science stuff..."
"Is that why you got an A last semester? I'm still looking for it to show your friends in the fashion club, I'm sure they'd be thrilled to know that you're *still* the brain they thought you were." "Don't bother, they know that it was Ms. Barch's class and that *all* the girls get As. Anyway, I was, like, feeling like I was gonna faint because of all the blood, and I musta gotten it wrong. Whatever."
"You're such a delicate flower, Quinn. Remember that next time you have you legs waxed."
This went on for some time. Neither of them noticed Helen listening in, or the expression on her face.