The rain continued to pour as the afternoon quickly turned into evening. Despite the roads becoming nothing but mud, the rain getting in her eyes, or the growing wind knocking her around, Scootaloo didn’t hurry her pace to get out of the storm. She continued to walk slowly, her head hung and her eyes focused on the road. It was almost as if she was letting the storm come down on her, giving her a punishment that she knew she deserved. She felt she deserved this so much that she didn’t even bother to try and ride her scooter home. Instead, she carried it in her mouth by the handle bars, her eyes fixated on the muddy road beneath her. Her thoughts were racing and her emotions were scattered. In short, she was unsure of what to think, unsure of what to feel.
The winds began to pick up even more as she entered Ponyville. Even as the strong wind began knocking down branches and blowing them in front of her, she didn’t pick up her pace, she didn’t try to speed up. To her, everything was obsolete in comparison to what had just happened. Even with all her emotions running amuck throughout her mind, only one question formed in her mind, the same one that had haunted her ever since she watched one of her best friends runaway from her: what have I done?
Before she knew it, she was in front of her house now. She laid her scooter on the ground and let out a sigh. Wiping off the bottom of her hooves on the mat outside, which didn’t do very much since it was already wet, she entered the house and closed the door. As anypony could have guessed, she was immediately reprimanded by her parents for being out in the middle of a storm instead of coming straight home from school. However, even her parents’ scolding couldn’t get the thoughts out of her head. She just sat on her haunches and absorbed what she was told, not really paying much attention to what they were saying to her.
Eventually, Scootaloo was told to go in her room until dinner was ready, which was fine by her, since that’s where she wanted to be anyway. When she got into her room, Scootaloo slowly closed the door and made her way to the window of her room. There, she rested her head on the glass, staring blankly at the raindrops that formed on the opposite side. She didn’t even bother to dry herself off from the excess water that streamed down her face.
Several long minutes had passed now, and Scootaloo didn’t move an inch from the window. All she could do was stare at the storm brewing outside, seeming to get worse and worse by the minute. At some point, she found herself staring at the floor, the pain in her heart intensifying with every passing minute. The longer she sat there, the more the thoughts began to sink in. The more they sank in, the worse she felt. Soon, she closed her eyes softly, allowing the tears that were welling up inside of them to fall freely from the corners.
“Sweetie Belle,” she whispered to herself, “Why?”
The question remained unanswered, as she went from the window to her bed. She slowly crawled into it, the tears still falling from her eyes. The Pegasus filly stared at the ceiling, allowing the question she asked to sink into her mind.
Her voice still in a quiet whisper, she asked, “Why all of a sudden? What were you thinking? What was I thinking? What do I do now?”
Scootaloo had so many questions but no way of getting any answers to them. She still hadn’t believed that she was the one Sweetie Belle had a crush on this whole time. As she thought about it now, she recalled how the unicorn filly had described “Scott.”
“Into extreme sports,” she said flatly, reciting what Sweetie Belle had said, “No Cutie Mark. She practically told me right then and there, and I was too stupid to figure it out. ‘Scott,’ only a few letters away from ‘Scoots’, couldn’t look me in the eyes, talking to me in private, how could I have been so blind?”
She turned to her side, eyebrows beginning to furrow a bit, as she felt a wave of anger overcome her. However, she wasn’t angry at Sweetie Belle, but at herself, not just for being so oblivious to her friends’ feelings, but for how she reacted to her confession.
“She finally gets the courage to tell me the truth and what do I do?” she asked, her breathing beginning to increase as the tears continued to fall, “I go and push her away, hurting her both emotionally and physically! Then, when she goes and tries to tell me again, I tell her to ‘get away from me,’ like she was some kind of disease.”
As the thoughts of the event began rushing back to her again, the anger slowly dissolved into guilt. Because of this, Scootaloo closed her eyes and began to cry. When she did, she buried her face into her pillow, hoping to muffle the sound from her parents; the last thing she wanted was to have to explain to them why she was crying.
When the thought of explanations entered her head, the guilt had turned into fear, as something else had crossed her mind. However, the tears still streamed down her cheeks and onto her pillow.
“What if she tells Rarity?” she asked quietly, trying to calm herself down from the crying, but to no avail, “What if she tells her that I hurt her? What if she tells her that I pushed her into a wall and caused her nose to worsen?”
Then, the last question she asked herself caused her heart to speed up, “What if she tells Rarity that I broke her heart?”
Immediately, the fear began coursing through her body, as the scenario in her head became as clear as anything. She could see Rarity, her eyes engulfed in flames of hatred and an angered face that could scare a Cockatrice into submission. She could see her staring at her, threatening her to stay away from her sister and never be seen near or around her ever again. Just the very thought made Scootaloo shiver in fear, causing her heart to skip a beat.
However, the images in her head quickly dissipated as a thought came across her mind, putting her at ease, if only for the moment. “Sweetie Belle wouldn’t tell her about this. Knowing her, she’d say it was ‘Scott’ that did it, not me. She wouldn’t say it was me, not if she hasn’t said it to anypony in all this time.”
Even though her realization put her heart at ease, it didn’t do anything to her mind, which still fished for an answer to the constant question that floated within her. As a result, she let out a small sigh and rested her head on her pillow, as she stared at the ceiling again. She didn’t know what to do or what to think. Everything raced through her mind, but none of it made any sense to her.
She turned her head to the small end table that held her lamp and a few other various things. Among those things was a small photograph of her and her fellow Crusaders, all piled on top of each other with smiles on their faces. She took the picture and looked at it, focusing her attention on the unicorn filly of the group. She rubbed her hoof on the picture, a small flicker of a smile forming at the corners of her mouth.
Scootaloo could remember when she and Sweetie Belle first met, underneath a table at Diamond Tiara’s “Cute-Ceañera.” She recalled that she was the first friend she had, even before they met Apple Bloom. As the memories came back, the smile on the Pegasus filly’s face grew wider. The longer she looked at Sweetie Belle in the picture, the more clearer things started to become. Soon, she knew what she had to do.
“I know what I have to do,” she said to herself, as she wiped her eyes with her free hoof, “The next time I see her, I have to apologize! I have to tell her that I didn’t mean to do what I did or say what I said. I have to tell her...”
She stopped in midsentence as a thought came over her. Scootaloo was going to say that she needed to tell her that she felt the same way about her. However, as she lied there, thinking about it, she, herself, didn’t know if she felt the same way about her.
“Do I even feel the same way about her?” she asked herself, as she stared at the ceiling, “Do I love her the same way she loves me?”
She turned on her side and looked out the window. She saw that the rain was coming down pretty hard. It looked like the storm was going to be there for a while, preventing her from going anywhere.
“Looks like I’m stuck here until the storm passes,” she told herself, as she placed the picture on the end table, “I guess that’s a good thing. At least it gives me some time to really think this through. I don’t know if I love her or not, but one thing’s for sure, I hope Sweetie Belle can find it in her heart to forgive me.”
With that, Scootaloo let out a sigh and rested her head on her pillow. She wasn’t going anywhere until the storm passed through. As a result, she did the only thing she could do now: get her thoughts together and find the best way to apologize to Sweetie Belle. Furthermore, she had to figure out if she felt the same way about her friend, or if she was simply going to ignore it completely.