Freshmen, Drama, and Prom

Mar 25th, 2018
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  1. Chapter One: A Heartfelt Letter
  3. >Your eyes scan across the small, pink letter once again, yourself unsure if you read it right
  4. >The words, each written with extreme care and with excellent penmanship, are as confusing as they are distressing
  5. >It’s a tale of how you’ve always been there
  6. >It’s a tale of how you were the one who cared when nobody else would bat an eye at her
  7. >It’s a tale which ends with a cursive word at the bottom of the letter, each letter lovingly detailed
  8. >’Prom?’
  9. >”Hiy’a, Anon!”
  10. >You start with a jump, instincts kicking in as you throw the letter back in your locker and slam it shut
  11. >When you turn and face whoever it was that snuck up on you, however, you let out a sigh
  12. “Sweetie Belle, I swear to God…”
  13. >The freshman’s only response is to giggle as you rub your temple
  14. >”What’cha all jumpy for?” she says while going for her own locker, of which is adjacent to yours
  15. “Jumpy? So you wouldn’t be panicky if I snuck up on you and went, ‘Hi’ya, Sweetie!’ right in your ear?”
  16. >You grumble a few more, less polite words as you collect yourself and tentatively reach for your locker
  17. >She hums a thoughtful tune
  18. >”I dunno, it’s not every day that someone calls me a sweetie.”
  19. >You mutter a, “Oh, fuck off,” as she giggles in response
  20. >Your hand falters
  21. >Maybe it’s best to leave the letter in there for now
  22. >You shake your head and turn to leave
  23. >Not five seconds pass before there comes a rapid scurrying
  24. >”Hey, wait up!”
  25. >Despite your better judgement, you relax your stride
  26. >Before long she’s at your side again, as if it were any other day
  27. >If it were any other day, you’d be asking if she needed more help with another paper, or, God forbid, make idle chatter with the miniature marshmallow about whatever bullshit shenanigans she and her retard three would be getting into
  28. >”Soooo…”
  29. >She tugs at your sleeve
  30. >”Figure out yet?”
  31. >You blink, open the door leading to the parking lot, and follow Sweetie out
  32. >It takes you a moment to remember what she’s referencing: your last talk
  33. >She’s curious about who you’re asking to prom for some reason
  34. >You roll your eyes
  35. “Yeah, sure.”
  36. >She doesn’t seem all too convinced by that and says as much
  37. >You wave her off as you make way for your car
  38. “What do you mean I’m being sarcastic? I would never lie to a little cherub like you.”
  39. >The tone and look you use gives her cause to playfully beat at you
  40. >”C’mon, tell me, tell me, tell me!”
  41. >You wave her off for a moment to enter your car
  42. >Her head is there, front and center, as the window slowly rolls down
  43. >Her smile is laced with curiosity
  44. >”Don’tcha trust me, Anon?”
  45. >She leans on the window frame, an innocent smile on her face all the while
  46. >”Please? Pinkie promise I won’t tell anyone!”
  47. >Your only response is to smirk and put the key in the ignition
  48. >Her face falls into one of faux annoyance, her tongue shooting out
  49. >”You’re worse than Rarity, no fun at all.”
  50. >That…
  51. >That actually gets a snigger out of you
  52. >This apparently was her goal, if her giggle and reappearing smile is anything to judge by
  53. >”You comin’ to the volleyball game tonight? We’re gonna’ kick some tail!”
  54. >Oh, right
  55. >You nod and give her a thumbs up
  56. >”Alrighty, see ya tonight!”
  57. >She takes herself off the vehicle, gives you a wave, and walks off back towards the school, no doubt getting dressed out for practice
  58. >You, in turn, sigh and turn on the radio
  59. >Just as you make to pull out of the parking lot, though, you catch sight of her
  60. >And she catches sight of you
  61. >Twist, with eyes widening and smile growing, jumps up and down as she gives you one of the most enthusiastic waves you’ve ever received
  62. >You swallow hard and pretend not to see her
  63. >The unsettling feeling in your stomach only grows as you realize something terrible
  64. >She’s on the volleyball team as well as Sweetie
  65. >She also thinks she’s the reason you come to said games
  66. >...Fuck
  67. >...
  68. >......
  69. >You are Anonymous Unknown, and currently you’re busy picking out a seat for the volleyball game
  70. >Several hours have passed since your last meeting with Sweetie Belle and, sure as shit, you made sure to show
  71. >Scouting the bleachers for anyone interesting, you soon land eyes on the only other senior who frequents these games
  72. >”Hey, look who finally decided to show!” says Rainbow Dash with a wave and a pat to the open seat beside her
  73. >You take the proffered seat, offer her a high five, and sigh
  74. “Sorry I’m late, traffic was shit, I had to finish the science paper, and—”
  75. >”Wait, crap, that’s due tomorrow?!” she blurts out, eyes now wide
  76. >You stare at her for a moment, trying to discern if she’s just pulling your leg again…
  77. >Nope, that’s genuine fear in them eyes
  78. >Dash is quick to recover, however, and drapes an arm over your shoulder, a cocky smile now on her face
  79. >”I mean, of course it’s tomorrow, I was just testin’ ya,” she says while dusting her knuckles off on her shirt
  80. >”But, say, don’t you happen to have an A in that class?”
  81. >You raise a brow
  82. “Don’t you have a D in science?”
  83. >”...Maybe.”
  84. >Before you’re able to berate or tease her, there comes the shrill scream of the referee’s whistle
  85. >Huh, game’s starting
  86. >”Uh, talk later… but seriously, help a wondercolt out would ya?”
  87. >With that she removes her arm and the two of you direct your attention to the court
  88. >As expected, Sweetie Belle and her retard three are on the bench for the first round, being freshmen in a varsity team and all that
  89. >But sitting beside them is, as per usual, Twist
  90. >Apparently she was waiting for you to look this way, because she shoots you another giant wave with a smile that’s just as big
  91. >Gulping, you return the gestures with considerably less gusto
  92. >”Gettin’ popular, eh?” says Dash as she elbows you playfully in the side
  93. >You shoot her a glare
  94. “Want help with that paper or not?”
  95. >She raises two hands in a placating fashion, shit-eating smile still on her face
  96. >”Just a prank, bro.”
  97. >You grumble something unpleasant and turn your attention back to the court
  98. >Before long it’s getting heated, the both of you forgetting about her jape as several clutch dives and spikes are had by both sides
  99. >Both of you are cheering and clapping your hearts out no more than ten minutes into the game, just like every other game of the season
  100. >Hey, girls volleyball is a lot more exciting than people give it credit for
  101. >One day you would thank Dash for encouraging you to come out to these games and cheer the team on
  102. >One day...
  103. >The competition rages on
  104. >Just as the mid game begins to set in as the score rises constantly for both sides, however, there comes a time out
  105. >Aria Blaze, one of the three seniors on the varsity team, apparently fucked up her knee something fierce while going for large dive
  106. >After you get over your initial worry for the classmate and friend, you realize something
  107. >They’re changing out players
  108. >You look to Dash
  109. >She looks at you
  110. >You both look back to the benches where Sweetie Belle and her retard three are sat...
  111. >You slap your knee and curse silently as Dash jumps up with a cheer
  112. >”Oh yeah, Scoots, you got this!”
  113. >After a moment of cursing about how Sweetie hasn’t got to play all season, you cheer with Dash and encourage the athletic freshman
  114. >Said freshman’s smile, even from a distance, shines bright
  115. >And for good reason too
  116. >It’s pretty fucking rare that they actually swap in the freshmen
  117. >The game resumes shortly
  118. >And, just like every other game that’s neck and neck, the cheering is a constant
  119. >The scores rise evenly, the girls from Crystal Prep giving as good as they’re getting
  120. >Every spike is returned in kind
  121. >Every moment is either filled with a pervasive worry or a full-belly cheer
  122. >But, just like every other game, this one must come to an end
  123. >There’s a final buzz from the speaker system
  124. >You look up to the score one last time, and give a sad smile as the opposite set of bleachers gives way to mad cheering
  125. >Just by the skin of their teeth
  126. >It was a pretty fucking exciting game to watch either way, so you’re not complaining
  127. >Dash, on the other hand...
  128. >You nod at her expected complaining as you both make to stand
  129. >”This close, Anon, THIS close!”
  130. >The two of you begin to make your way to the court, of which is now filled with the congratulating friends and families of the players
  131. >”I mean, not saying I’m better than Aria, but… wait, who am I kidding? Of course I’m better! I totally could’ve kept going!”
  132. >She slaps your shoulder
  133. >”You remember when I got a concussion and kept going until the end of the game last year? If I could handle a hit to the noggin, she could totally handle a little—”
  134. >”Anon!”
  135. >You freeze at the familiar voice
  136. >A moment later you’re pulled into a hug by a lithe pair of arms, a head burying itself in your chest
  137. >Your eyes flicker down to the head of light scarlet hair that tickles your chin
  138. “Uh, hey, Twist!”
  139. >You gently pat her back and look to Dash for help
  140. >Twist is usually never this… eager
  141. >All Dash can offer is a shit-eating smile
  142. >Et tu, Dash?
  143. >”I hope thew had asth mutch fun asth we had, Anon, it wasth a blast!”
  144. >You nod, grateful that she’s pulled back from the hug
  145. >”I know I didn’th get mutch time, or any,” she says with a quick snort of laughter, “but I’m sthill glad you came.”
  146. >You hesitate for a moment before putting on a smile and giving her shoulder a comforting squeeze
  147. “Glad I came!”
  148. >You then move to Dash’s side, somewhat eager to remove yourself from the situation
  149. >Much to your annoyance, though as to be expected, Twist remains at your side
  150. >You lean into Dash
  151. “Way to help a wondercolt out, shithead.”
  152. >”Oh, c’mon, you looked happy enough,” she says with a laugh
  153. >You scoff
  154. “Think I’ve never had a girlfriend before? Acting’s easy.”
  155. >Her laughter stops, her eyes slightly slowly dropping to the ground
  156. >”Oh.”
  157. >You both walk in silence up until the familiar sight of Marshmallow Mcgee and her retard three, Scootaloo, Apple Bloom, and Babs Seed, come into view
  158. >Scootaloo’s face lights up like a Christmas tree upon seeing Dash
  159. >It’s actually kind of heartwarming to see little Scoots hop into Dash’s arms, the later twirling around and giving the underclassman a noogie
  160. >”Aw man, Anon, did’ja see Scoots?!”
  161. >You look down to see a familiar pair of green eyes looking up at you
  162. >You return the smile
  163. >”She was all like, ‘Aww, I got this!’ Kapow, boom, spike!” Sweetie Belle says between animated pantomimes, acting as if she’s spiking the ball or making dives
  164. >You share a laugh at her antics and begin to talk in earnest about the game
  165. >Or, well, you attempt to talk about the game before Sweetie gives you a sudden fluttering of the eyelashes
  166. >”Sooooo, gonna’ tell me now?”
  167. >...Oh, for fuck’s sake
  168. >”Oooo, a sthecret?” says a voice that almost makes you jump
  169. >You forgot that Twist was following at your side, and so you look to her with a concerned eye
  170. >Sweetie looks to her with a smile, leans in, and whispers something
  171. >Twist’s eyes go wide as her freckled cheeks redden
  172. >”So, Anon, you gonna’ tell us?” Sweetie says with another innocent smile
  173. >Your brows furrow as your eyes flicker between the two freshmen
  174. >Sweetie Belle, as per usual, is playful and genuinely interested, herself completely calm and in her element
  175. >Twist, on the other hand, looks nervous as all hell, no doubt wondering if you got her letter that she slid into your locker
  176. >Normally whenever you’re placed in a situation that requires you to be a dick, you do so without hesitation, often times with a smile
  177. >But as you look at Twist, you don’t see someone who deserves it
  178. >You see that nervous girl who just happened to share the same homeroom as you on that fateful day
  179. >You see the friendless little nobody that slowly warmed up to you with tales of woe and social anxiety
  180. >You see the freshman whose grades improved as your relationship deepened to the point where you tried to act as a sort of pseudo-brother in face of her abysmal family life
  181. >You smile in face of it all, a chuckle escaping your throat as you wave them off
  182. “Don’t worry about it, I’m sure you’ll hear about it sooner or later.”
  183. >You don’t care to see the look on either of their faces, instead turning to Dash
  184. “Hey, I’m going to dip, was fun and all but—”
  185. >She turns with wide eyes, as if remembering something, and grabs you by the arm
  186. >”Not so fast, buster, you’re coming with me!”
  187. >You would offer protest, but she tugs you towards the exit with considerable, unexpected force
  188. >She offers her goodbyes to the team in the form of a quick wave and a hollered “Bye!”
  189. >You, however, can only share a confused look with the gaggle of freshmen before being dragged off
  190. >But as you turn back to look at Dash, Twist’s look of intense fear and clarity flashes through your mind
  191. >Wait, she doesn’t think…
  192. >”C’mon, pick up your feet!” says Dash with another forceful tug to your arm
  193. >You do as told
  194. >”Dash ain’t flunking no classes, no sir,” she says with a finger raised high, “momma didn’t raise no flunker!”
  195. >You frown, thankful but slightly annoyed
  196. “Really? Don’t you have anyone else to help you out?”
  197. >She leads you outside, the two of you making way for the parking lot under the night’s dim sky
  198. >”Twiggy kinda said she’s going to start charging me whenever I pulled something last minute like this,” she says with a casual twirl of the hand
  199. >That’s… actually pretty damn smart
  200. “And what do I get outta’ this?”
  201. >She stops, clicks her tongue, and thinks for a moment
  202. >”Peetzer?”
  203. >You give her a flat look, idly glancing at your watch
  204. >Getting kinda late—
  205. >”I’ll try and hook you up with Rarity for prom?”
  206. >You blink, eyes now slightly widened at the proposition
  207. >”Oh yeah, that got your attention now didn’t it?” Dash says with a laugh and a punch to your shoulder
  208. >You can only clear your throat in response, a curt nod leaving you shortly after
  209. >”My man!”
  210. >She tells you to just follow her car back to her place, and so you obey
  211. >Just as you pull up to her place, though, a thought comes to your mind
  212. >How did she know you liked Rarity?
  213. >For some reason you never find time to ask her that night
  214. >Instead you’re left with bigger questions as you peer over Dash’s shoulder as she makes slow progress on the paper
  215. >Some questions are simple, like why she’s forgetting simple commas and periods
  216. >Others are more important, those being why she doesn’t even know what a carbon bond is
  217. >Time passes painfully slow as you help her along
  218. >Three hours pass, of which felt like much longer, and the majority of the paper is done…
  219. >Or, well, it would have been if Dash didn’t look up to you with an unsettling smile
  220. >”Uh, hey, Anon, we didn’t need any in-text citations, right?”
  221. >The rest of the night is a blur of coffee, proofreading, and half-burnt pizza
  222. >...
  223. >......
  224. >You groan, slowly opening a bleary eye to look up at whoever it was that would interrupt your nap
  225. >”Hiy’a, Anon!”
  226. >The familiar freshman pulls back slightly when she meets your gaze, the sleep-deprivation no doubt showing
  227. >”Uh, rough night?” Sweetie Belle asks before taking a seat besides you
  228. >You and Anonymous, and you were just trying to take a quick nap during lunch
  229. >You were trying to sleep in your next period’s class
  230. >Seems a certain freshman doesn’t seem too keen on letting you be, however
  231. “If only you knew.”
  232. >She leans onto the table with a thoughtful hum
  233. >”Hmm, so Dash is either really good in bed, or really, really bad… that’s all I’m hearing.”
  234. “...”
  235. >”...”
  236. “...”
  237. >Slowly, steadily, you sit up in your chair
  238. >She’s still giving that innocent face in spite of your tired glare
  239. >A moment later it’s blocked out by your letterman as you toss it over her head
  240. >You’re too tired for this shit
  241. >She giggles at this, gives out a, “Ooooo!” once she realizes what it is that you threw, and promptly slides the thing on
  242. >You glance at your watch
  243. >Class should be starting in a few, might as well wake up
  244. >At least you got a little sleep, better than nothing
  245. “Dash is just a friend, Sweetie.”
  246. >You roll your shoulders, pop your back, and sigh
  247. “She needed to rush a paper last minute and I just happened to be near.”
  248. >”Mmmhmmm!” she says, thoroughly unconvinced
  249. “I mean, you can go ask her if you want.”
  250. >You turn to look at the freshman now clad in your letterman, the jacket comically oversized on her
  251. >...She looks way too proud with that thing on
  252. >You raise a brow at this and go to comment, but are interrupted as people begin to trickle into the classroom
  253. >”Thanks, Anon, it’s always cold in Cranky’s room anyway!”
  254. >And, with that, she skips away and makes for the door
  255. >You’re half tempted to throw a pencil, or better yet a chair, at her, but the sight of the teacher entering the room prevents you from doing so
  256. >She shoots you a wave as she skips away
  257. >Your forehead smacks against the desk with an audible ‘Thunk!’
  258. >If God were merciful he would give you an aneurysm
  259. >The sleep deprivation, the history test that’s just about to be handed out, and the fact that you didn’t get any breakfast are really fucking with your mood
  260. >But that’s not the worst part
  261. >The worst part is the sinking feeling you get when thinking about how you’ve been avoiding Twist all day
  262. >Well, that and how you didn’t respond to her text last night
  263. >It still rings clear in your memory
  264. >’Did you get the letter? <:D’
  265. >...
  266. >......
  267. >You are Sweetie Belle
  268. >You’re supposed to be paying attention to the lecture about SOHCAHTOA, or something like that
  269. >But you’ve got more important things to worry about
  270. >Namely this C O M F Y jacket you snagged
  271. >Sure, Rarity gave you a really funny look when you said hi to her when wearing it, but you don’t care about that
  272. >You care about this jacket
  273. >It’s now yours
  274. >...That’s how it goes, right?
  275. >A girl wears a guys jacket and then it becomes hers?
  276. >Yeah…
  277. >Yeah!
  278. >You take in the smell of the thing again, your smile growing
  279. >Smells just like him
  280. >Content for just a moment, you’re pulled back into reality all too soon as someone’s book clatters to the floor, the noise making your eyes go wide
  281. >Oh, right, you’re still in class
  282. >You ponder the idea of taking notes about what’s on the whiteboard, but, knowing Cranky, it’s all in the book
  283. >...You’re probably still going to have to help Scootaloo with the homework though
  284. >You glance around to your classmates
  285. >Apple Bloom’s busy drawing a rather muscular body
  286. >Scootaloo’s paying full attention to the lecture, her notebook lined with equations and the like
  287. >Babs is staring out the window, a disinterested look on her face
  288. >And Twist…
  289. >Twist is busy staring at the name patch on your letterman
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