I Hate You! (Scootaloo & Young Anon)

Moose – Anon, Cheerilee & Scootaloo FEELS

>Crossing your arms over your chest, you give the powerfully purple pony your best defiant sneer.
>With the amount of practice you’ve had, it’s pretty good.
>Good enough to set her back on her hooves.
>You’ve got this in the bag
>At least, you thought you did, until she came up, dabbing at your mouth with a tissue.
>“Oh Anon, you’re still bleeding.”
>Miz Cheerilee sighs and goes about the process of cleaning up your face.
>Again.
>As she finishes and turns away, you speak your mind on the matter.
“So what?  I don’t care.”
>Truth be told, you do care.
>Your teeth are wiggling a little more than you’re comfortable with.
>That stupid filly’s to blame for all of this.
>Her and her stupid blank flank.
>As if she can feel your eyes on her, the orange filly turns and scowls, thunder looming in her cloudy purple eyes.
>“What are you looking at, freak?”
“Nothin, just like what’s on your flank!”
>“You wanna start something, baboon butt?”
“What are you gonna do, cluck at me?”
>“Both of you stop, right this instant!”
>As your teacher snaps, the two of you tense up in your seats.
>Giving an exhausted sigh, Miz Cheerilee paces in front of the class room.
>“I don’t know why you two keep picking at one another.  You’re both excellent students otherwise.”
>The two of you answer in tandem.
>“He keeps calling me blank flank!”
“She keeps makin’ fun of how I walk!”
>“And that’s why the two of you were fighting?”
“Yeah!”
>“Mhmm!”
>You know that you don’t look your best.
>Even if she is a filly, Scootaloo sure knew how to fight dirty.
>Running your tongue over your gums, you can still feel the metallic taste of your own blood.
>To say nothing of the scuffs and scratches all over your body.

>Your mother’s going to throw a fit.
>“I’ve tried to let the two of you work this out on your own, but it seems clear that you simply won’t let this conflict go.”
>As Miz Cheerilee begins to list off the amount of times you and Scootaloo have disrupted class, you begin shooting exchanging glares with the filly.
>Right up to the point where you both begin posturing and pantomiming throwing yourselves at each other in an attempt to make the other flinch.
>A quick throat clearing from Miz Cheerilee brings the both of you back to a seated position.
>“As I was saying, from here on out, the two of you will be cooperating on every assignment from here on out.”
“Uh, how about no.”
>“Yeah, I don’t wanna work with him, what about Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle?”
>“I’m sure your friends will manage just fine when you’re helping Anonymous.  And this isn’t an option, for either of you.  From here on out, the two of you will work together on every assignment as a pair.”
>“But he stinks in gym!”
“And she’s awful at studying!”
>“That’s my decision.  You two are going to work and act as one.  If one of you fails, you both fail.”
>Despite your desire to argue, you know the futility in fighting the system.
>Scootaloo does too.
>Sullenly, you both accept the terms and are freed from your after-school captivity.
>
“UGH!”
>“Right?”
>Scootaloo dribbles a pebble in front of her as she walks beside you.
>“I can’t believe that Miss Cheerilee would do that.  Can you imagine the two of us, working together?”
“Nope.”
>Kicking up dust, you glare at the ground and shake your head.
“And now we’re both gonna suffer because she thinks it’s a good idea.”

>Nodding in agreement, you both sigh as one.
>At once, Scootaloo stops.
>After stumbling a few steps, you do as well, turning back to face her.
>Her expression is cold and distant, but determined.
>“Anonymous.  I don’t like you.”
>Scowling, you narrow your eyes and spit to the side before answering.
“I don’t like you either.”
>“But I’m not going to fail on account of you.”
“You took the words right outta my mouth.”
>Neither of you make a move for a long while.
>To be honest, you’re not quite sure what to say to break the silence.
>Finally, Scootaloo grins and trots past you.
>“Good, we’ll meet up outside of school tomorrow at seven-thirty so I can copy your homework.”
>Wut?
“Hey!  Do your own homework!”
>“But Anonymous, Miss Cheerilee is going to be checking both our answers.  And if I get them wrong, then you’re going to fail.”
>Flashing a manipulative smile that no filly her age has any right to practice, Scootaloo shrugs.
>“Of course, if you’re okay with failing, I guess I could try…”
“Fffffine.”
>Jamming your hands in your pockets, you glower in her direction.
>Cocking her head to the side, Scootaloo smiles and bounces off, presumably to play with her friends.
>You wait until she’s out of sight before resuming the trek home, your spirits thoroughly dampened.
“Stupid filly…”
>
>“Yo, Anonymous, you got my homework?”
>With a grunt, you hand over three laborious hours of arithmetic.
>Scootaloo gives you the smuggest grin she can manage, waving the paper in your face a few times before heading into the classroom to copy it.

>This is day five, and every time it just makes you feel like you’re dying a little bit more.
>As you stand, sulking, wishing nothing but the absolute worst on Scootaloo, Miz Cheerilee interrupts your thoughts.
>“Good morning, Anonymous.  How’s the resident human doing today?”
“Oh, I’m great Miz Cheerilee, the only problem is that you had the WORST IDEA EVER!”
>Is what you would have liked to say.
>Instead it was more along the lines of
“Fine.”
>“And how is your co-op work with Scootaloo going?”
>Somehow, you reach deep into your dead pan reserves and manage an even more exhausted sounding
“Fine.”
>“Wonderful!  I can’t wait to see how you both perform on the quiz today.”
>You groan a little and let your shoulders sag.
“We hafta take that together too?”
>“Hmm?  Oh no, that would be unfair to the other students, you’ll each take your exam separately.”
>That catches your attention.
>So you wouldn’t be totally dependant on each other after all.
>Allowing yourself a small measure of spite, you glare at the schoolhouse
>Oh yes, you’ll get yours today, Scootaloo.
>
>Miz Cheerilee returns your quiz the next day.
>Glancing over at Scootaloo, you can see that the orange filly is banging her head against the desk, repeatedly.
>You don’t even bother to look at your quiz.
>Aces, like always.
>Standing in front of the class, Miz Cheerilee smiles at every one.
“Most of you did wonderfully on your quiz yesterday.”
>Pride swells in the class, except for Scootaloo.
>The only thing swelling on her is the knot on her forehead.
>HA!
>“Unfortunately, some of you didn’t.  If you didn’t pass the quiz, you’ll need to stay after class to do drills to ensure that you know the material.

>Scootaloo whines, and the rest of the class giggles in response.
>After packing up your things, you walk by Scootaloo’s desk, waiting by her side long enough to get her attention.
>Lifting your left hand, you press your thumb against your nose, stick out your tongue, and blow a raspberry while wiggling your four fingers.
“Later Scoota-loser.”
>As she undoubtedly wishes a fiery death upon you, you skip towards the door.
>Miz Cheerilee’s voice stops you in your tracks.
>“Anonymous?  I haven’t dismissed you yet.”
>Confused, you turn a raise an eyebrow.
“I’m pretty sure the day’s over, Miz Cheerilee.”
>Glancing around, you see that roughly half the class has already left for the afternoon.
“Yeah, I think the day’s done.”
>Giving you a smile, your teacher trots over.
“Oh, the school day’s over, but we still have drills that need to be done.”
>It takes a moment to pull your eyebrow back from the expanse of your forehead, but you begin to laugh.
>Miz Cheerilee, saying that with a straight face.
>Your sides start to ache.
>Who knew that teachers had a sense of humor?
>As you fall against the wall, holding your sides, you struggle between your need to breathe, and the insistence of your body that you keep laughing.
>When you begin to hiccup, Miz Cheerilee cuts in.
>“You need to stay here with Scootaloo.  Both of you failed the quiz, both of you have to stay.”
>The laughter stops suddenly as you puff yourself up.
>How insulting!
>She was actually being serious about you staying!
>Scrounging through your pack, you pull out the quiz, putting it in front of her.
“That’s not a zero!”
>“Look again, Anonymous.”

>That cool, level-headed voice.
>The sensation of teeth grinding against each other causes your head to ache.
>You don’t -need- to look, you know its right because…
>because…
>You just know that it’s right!
>Still standing there with a smile on her face, Miz Cheerilee watches as you pull your paper back and look it over.
>Sure enough, you got all the questions right.
>You don’t have any marks indicating that any of your answers are wrong.
>But there, in the top corner.
>Big
>Fat
>Goose egg.
“B-b-b-b-b-b-b”
>You babble, struggling to come up with some rational reason for your absolute failure.
>Miz Cheerilee places her hoof on your back, directing you towards your seat.
>“I told you, didn’t I?
>Her voice is low, hidden from the other students as they file out.
>“You both pass, or you both fail.”
>As you plop down beside Scootaloo, the two of you stare up at her with glazed eyes.
>Tossing her mane, the earth pony chuckles.
>“Neither of you are going to ‘carry’ the other through their weaknesses.  If you can’t pass together, you don’t pass at all.”
>At long last, your brain starts up again; the incessant string of B’s finally forming a cohesive sentence.
“But that’s not fair!”
>Miz Cheerilee nods and shrugs her head.
>“It might not be fair to you, to hold one another accountable.  But it’s also not fair to Scootaloo when you call her names and fight with her.”
>Before the filly can respond, she adds,
>“And it’s not fair to Anonymous when you make fun of him either.  You two need to learn to get along and help, rather than hurt, each other.”

>You spend the rest of the afternoon muttering answers to equations you already know, while Scootaloo frantically scribbles them out on paper.
>She’s utterly lost.
>Which means that you’re doomed.
>
>“She can be such a nag!”
>For the eighth time, Scootaloo growls in frustration, tearing the figurative Miz Cheerilee a new one.
>While you would never speak openly about your teacher in such a fashion, you’re beginning to agree with your unwilling partner.
>She really needs to get her priorities straightened out.
“Well, what are we going to do?  We can’t fail out of school.”
>“I dunno, you’re the egghead, why don’t you come up with an idea?”
“Why don’t you go and lay an egg, then we’d at least have a place to start!”
>The two of you snarl at one another, Scootaloo hoofing you in the gut while you grab her mane and yank.
>Putting some space between the two of you, the pegasus spits to the side.
>“Ugh, I can’t stand you!”
“Well I can’t stand you more!”
>“Nu-uh!”
“Uh-huh!”
>“Nu-uh!”
“Uh-huh!”
>This eloquent back and forth continues for a good minute before you get fed up.
>Taking a long step forward, you stun the pegasus into silence.
>You might not be as strong, or as fast as some of the ponies.
>But you sure are bigger than them.
>Towering over Scootaloo, you take a deep breath and say
“I have, an idea.”
>Puffing herself up, the pegasus scowls.
>“I’m listening.”
“Let’s go to my house and work on the homework, together.”
>Scootaloo makes a rather upset face, furrowing her eyebrows.
>“That sounds pretty nerdy.”
“Or, we could both keep failing?”

>Giving a small nod, Scootaloo falls in step beside you.
>Silence reigns for a few moments, until the filly murmurs
>“Hey.”
“Mm?”
>“Just because I agree to do this, don’t think that it means I forgive you.”
“Right, it’s just for the grade.”
>“Right.”
>
>“Anonymous?”
>Cheerilee’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts.
>The school mare, showing a few more years than she had in your mind, gives you a small smile.
>“Are you all right?  You spaced out there for a moment.”
>You chuckle and shake your head, taking a moment to get your head on straight.
>That was, ages ago.
>To think that simply being here could bring back those memories.
“I’m fine, Cheerilee, thank you though.  You were saying?”
>“Your daughter’s had a little trouble with one of the colts in class.  They got into a little tiff today on the playground.”
>Glancing into the classroom, you see the mess of electric purple hair sulking.
>Turning back to Cheerilee, you shrug.
“I suppose that she comes by it honestly.  You wouldn’t have any idea on how we might handle this situation?”
>Despite the addition of a few wrinkles, the wry smile still lights up her face.
>“I just might.”