//------------------------------// // Chapter 10 - Balancing Act // Story: Second Chances: A Redemption Story // by Cyrano //------------------------------// “Done.” Adagio withdrew her arm from Nurse Tough Love’s firm grasp. The bandages on her hand were gone, but the skin they’d covered was pale and fraught with meandering lines. Her knuckles, though no longer painful or bleeding, were rough to the touch and retained the slightest hint of bruising. Tough Love must have noticed her discontent, as he added in his laconic way “Marks go away, in time.” “Thanks,” said Adagio, still looking at her hand. She’d only had the bandages on for a week – less if she counted the time she spent having them changed – and yet it felt as if a little piece of herself had been peeled away. The flesh on her hand tingled, and she felt an acute awareness of the cool air of the nurse’s office. It was a feeling of vulnerability and exposure that reminded her of when she’d been robbed of her magic, and caused her to wonder just how many pieces of herself this world would chip away. “You leave now,” grunted Tough Love, waving her away as he hunched over a small desk and scribbled on some paperwork with a pen too small for his meaty hands. Adagio didn’t have to be told twice. She opened the door to the nurse’s office – the touch of the cold metal on her bare flesh sending goosebumps up her arm – and stepped out into the hallway, where her fellow Sirens waited for her. “Your hand looks weird,” said Sonata. Adagio frowned and folded her arms, obscuring the appendage. The renewed fondness Adagio had felt for them had faded somewhat while Adagio slept (as fantasies are like to do, she thought), but, nonetheless, after she and Sugarcoat performed their morning routine, she had felt compelled to wait for them in the hallway. She had spent her morning and lunch break in their company, and even now after the school day had come to an end, they had once again drifted together. This unity came with its own set of problems beyond the tedium of putting up with the other Sirens, the most pressing of which was her meeting with Twilight Sparkle. Adagio wasn’t naive enough to believe that their nascent truce would survive the revelation that she’d been consorting with the enemy behind their backs, and so Adagio found herself in the precarious position of having to ditch the other Sirens without arising their suspicions. It wasn’t something she was looking forward to, but with the only other option being skipping her session with Twilight, she knew that she had to do it. “Doesn’t her hand look weird, Aria?” Aria shrugged and glanced up at the digital clock that hung on the wall. A look of alarm spread across her face. “I’ve got to go,” she said, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. “What?” said Sonata. “Where?” “Practice.” “Practice? Practice what?” Aria rubbed her eyes in irritation. “Basketball practice.” “Basketball? But you played basketball yesterday!” Aria shrugged again. “Coach wants us to get in as much practice as we can before midterms.” Sonata let out a tortured groan, and both girls turned to Adagio. It was like the old times, when the two girls would bicker and have Adagio to solve their problems for them, and it gave Adagio a brief rush of exhilaration knowing she was once again at the top where she belonged. It was tempting to forbid Aria from attending the practice – just to see if Aria would actually abide her decision – but, realistically, such pettiness would probably just start another fight. Besides, Aria had given her the perfect opportunity to slip away. “Go on,” she said, waving a hand dismissively at Aria, who nodded at her and began to jog towards the gymnasium. Unhappy with this decision, Sonata shot Adagio a pleading look. “I thought we were going to spend the day together again,” she said, glumly. Adagio rolled her eyes. What had given her that idea? It didn’t matter. Adagio had made no such promise, and even if she did, she had an appointment to keep. Sonata would thank her when they had their magic back. “I’ve got to go, too,” said Adagio. “Oh, come on! Why?” “I have math homework I need to finish.” It wasn’t technically a lie – she did have math homework, and she and Twilight would almost certainly work on it. It just wasn’t the entire truth, either. To her surprise, Sonata laughed. “Homework? ‘Dagi, Principal Cinch needs us – we don’t have to do homework!” Adagio suppressed a growl. Sonata wasn’t even doing her homework, and yet Adagio was the one Cinch had come after for her grades? Her hands balled into fists beneath her crossed arms. Hypocrisy could be added to the ever-growing list of reasons Adagio despised Abacus Cinch, and, unlike Twilight Sparkle, Adagio had no qualms about turning her magic on the principal the second she got it back. The thought of her revenge was a welcome one, but it would have to wait. Adagio still had to deal with Sonata. “Well, I’m doing it anyway,” Adagio said, curtly. It occurred to her that she didn’t have to explain herself to Sonata of all people. “Can I come?” “No,” said Adagio. “I work better on my own.” Okay, so that was a lie. Sonata wilted, casting her eyes down to the hallway floor and letting her arms hang limp at her sides. It was pathetic, and it almost made Adagio feel bad for her. Almost. “Just… I don’t know. Go watch Aria practice, or something. I’ll be back later.” Sonata didn’t respond. A quick glance at the clock confirmed that Adagio had no more time to waste on this conversation, so without another word she turned on her heel and left Sonata alone in the hallway to sulk. She’d get over it – in an hour or so she probably wouldn’t even remember that she was upset – and it wasn’t as if Adagio needed to justify her actions – she was doing what was best for all of them! She’ll thank me when we have our magic back, Adagio thought again, though this time she felt a little less confident. She arrived at the bus stop just as her bus rounded the corner. It took a couple moments of frantic pocket searching to find her bus pass, but before long Adagio once again found herself packed into the crowded bus and heading towards the Canterlot Public Library. The bus ride felt different somehow, and it wasn’t until she was almost at her stop that Adagio figured out what it was. The tension the bus had brought her, the constant vigilance she’d been forced to partake in to protect her secret was no longer necessary. It didn’t matter if anyone from Crystal Prep saw her entering the library, and, now that the Rainbooms were aware of her arrangement with Twilight Sparkle, it didn’t matter if anyone from Canterlot High saw her in her uniform, either. It felt almost liberating, so much so that Adagio was so caught up in her newfound relaxation that she nearly missed her stop. Fortunately, another passenger happened to be getting off at the same place, and Adagio was able to slip off the bus without anyone else knowing of her almost-blunder. The sky above the Canterlot Public Library was a solid sheet of white cloud, and the air was brisk, though not altogether uncomfortable. Adagio took her time ascending the stairs, passing the statues and pillars as she crossed the threshold into the library proper. The old Librarian – Adagio could have sworn Twilight had mentioned his name, but it didn’t come to mind – waved at her as she passed his counter and Adagio returned the gesture with a polite nod. From somewhere among the innumerable rows of books Adagio heard the sounds of quiet bickering, before a sharp hushing noise brought the argument to an abrupt end. They were, perhaps, the first voices Adagio had heard in the library that did not belong to herself, Twilight, or the librarian (or, she reminded herself bitterly, to Timber), which piqued her curiosity, though not enough to waylay her from her course. Adagio alighted the stairs and soon thereafter arrived at the study room. She straightened her skirt and brushed her outfit off with her hands, clearing it of whatever hair or debris she might have picked up on the bus, before stepping inside. Twilight Sparkle was seated at the far side of the room’s small table, flanked on both sides by tall stacks of books, leafing through the pages of yet another book laid out before her. She looked as Adagio entered, adjusting her glasses which had undoubtedly slipped down to the tip of her nose while she read. She smiled. “Hi.” “Hi,” said Adagio, returning the smile and letting the door close behind her. “You got your bandages off!” Adagio looked down at her hand. It wasn’t as clammy as it had been earlier, but it was still a little pallid and she still see the faintest hints of the lines left by the bandages. “Yeah,” she said, tucking it behind her back. She approached the table, let her backpack drop from her shoulders, and took a seat. She produced her own stack of books and notes, placing on the table much as Twilight had, all the while doing her best to keep her unsightly hand out of Twilight’s line of sight. If the girl noticed, she was too polite to say anything. “So,” said Adagio, “where should we begin?” Twilight hesitated, her brow furrowing as she cast her gaze away from Adagio. “There’s–” her voice squeaked and she cleared her throat, “–there’s something I wanted to talk about you – to you about… about me.” Adagio blinked. “Come again?” Twilight drew in a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “Before we get started, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.” Adagio sighed. She’d known this was coming ever since Twilight’s knowledge of her little secret was forced out into the open by the Rainbooms. Twilight was too inquisitive not to have questions about Adagio was and what she had been, but at least she’d waited until they were alone and face to face. But how much did she really want to tell Twilight? Sure, Twilight did stick up for her when they were confronted, but would she continue to support her if she knew about all the terror and strife Adagio and her fellow Sirens had wrought? Would she finally pierce Adagio’s human mask and see the monster that lurked just beneath the surface? Adagio bit the inside of her cheek. There was no use letting her imagination run wild. Twilight trusted her – why, she wasn’t sure, but her heart told her it was true – and she trusted Twilight. More than that, she needed her, so if answering some of Twilight Sparkle’s questions was the price she had to pay to keep her, then answer she would. She’d even keep the changing of the small details to a minimum. “Okay,” said Adagio, “go ahead.” “Alright,” said Twilight, clearing her throat again. “Here I go. So, you see, umm, there’s this… event – well, it’s more of a competition – held by CHS and Crystal Prep called the Friendship Games.” Well, that certainly wasn’t what she’d expected. Twilight opened her mouth to continue, and Adagio held up a hand to stop her. “I know about the Friendship Games.” “You do?” Adagio nodded. “About the magic?” She nodded again. Twilight bit her lip. “And about...” “Midnight Sparkle?” asked Adagio. This time it was Twilight’s turn to nod. “Yeah, about her, too.” Twilight stared down at the book in front of her, her eyes obscured by her bangs. It was quiet, and Adagio was struggling to find the words to break the silence when Twilight laughed. Adagio cocked an eyebrow, wondering if what she’d heard was not, in fact, a muffled cry, when she heard it again, this time accompanied by an adorable snort. “Twilight Sparkle?” Twilight looked up, her face now plastered with a silly grin. Adagio was confused. “Am I missing something?” Twilight shook her head. “It’s kind of silly isn’t it? You’re a Siren from Equestria, and I turned into a power-hungry demon and tried to destroy the world, and we’ve just been coming here and pretending to be two ordinary girls!” Ordinary is overrated, thought Adagio. “Anyway, I just thought you should know the whole story. I should have known you’d have asked around about me, too.” She looked at Adagio sheepishly. “Sorry about that, by the way.” “It’s fine,” said Adagio. She couldn’t exactly chastise Twilight for talking about her behind her back (no matter how innocent it was) after she’d just admitted to doing the exact same thing. “To be honest, I thought that you had questions about me being a, you know...” Monster, she finished, inaudibly. Twilight squirmed in her seat, and Adagio immediately realized what she’d done. “Well, I might have a couple of questions,” said Twilight, “but if you don’t want to...” Adagio sighed again. “I don’t, but we might as well get this out of the way now.” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs, fixing her eyes on Twilight. “You have a Siren from Equestria at your disposal. What do you want to know?” There was a look that Twilight Sparkle sometimes wore when they studied. It usually appeared while she hunted through a book for a wayward definition, or when she read something for the first time. Adagio could only describe it as a gleeful hunger, and it manifested itself whenever Twilight realized she was going to learn something. It was this passion for learning that seemed to drive Twilight to be both a prolific student and an incredible teacher, and to feel that focus – that desire – fixed so firmly upon her… Adagio felt a bead of sweat drip down her neck, and suddenly her mouth felt like it was stuffed full of cotton balls. Twilight didn’t even need to think about her question. Whether she admitted it or not, it was clear she already knew what she wanted to ask. “What is a Siren?” The absurdity of the question gave Adagio pause. “Seriously?” “Yes, seriously. In Equestria, Sunset Shimmer is a Unicorn, and the other Twilight is an Alicorn – which is a Unicorn with wings, apparently. I can sort of picture what those would look like, but I don’t exactly have a frame of reference for a Siren. Sunset described them as ‘a half-horse-half-fish with pointy teeth.’” Adagio was appalled. “‘Half-fish?’” She took a moment to seethe, working her jaw and opening and closing her fist, doing her best to work through the sudden burst of indignation. “We are not ‘half-fish.’” “Okay,” said Twilight, “so can you give me a proper description?” “Alright, well, Sirens have forehooves and an equine head – yes, with sharp teeth, I suppose – but with scales and fins. We have long tails – not like a fish, different! – and have a crystal embedded right–” Adagio’s fingers touched her bare neck. She hadn’t worn the pendant Sugarcoat had given to her today, and for the first time she wondered what would happen if she returned to Equestria without it. Would there be a gaping hole in her neck, a permanent mark of her failure carved into her flesh? She grit her teeth. This was just another reason that she needed to get her magic back. “Adagio?” Adagio looked up. Twilight’s thirst for knowledge had been partially replaced with concern. “Are you okay?” “Yes,” said Adagio, “yes, I’m fine. I just lost my train of thought. Did you have any other questions?” Twilight nodded. “And you’re sure–” “Yes, I’m sure,” said Adagio, doing her best to keep the irritation out of her voice. “Okay,” said Twilight, not entirely clear of her trepidation. “You did say fins though, so Sirens are aquatic?” “Yes and no,” explained Adagio. “I may have been born in the ocean, but I could fly through the air just as well as I could move through the water.” “Wait, hold on, Sirens can fly?” “Of course we can fly!” “Interesting,” said Twilight, rubbing her chin, “not at all like the stories of Sirens from this world.” Now it was Adagio’s turn to be surprised. “This world had Sirens, too?” “Not exactly. There are stories of creatures called Sirens from thousands of years ago, but they were usually depicted as birds with human heads.” Adagio scoffed. Twilight ignored her and continued. “Other times they were described as beautiful women, and they always had enchanting singing voices… Okay, so maybe the two aren’t entirely different.” Adagio felt heat rising in her cheeks. Did Twilight Sparkle just call her beautiful? Evidently, Twilight realized what she’d implied, as color suddenly exploded across her face. “I–” she stammered “I meant their voices. I didn’t mean–” The predatory part of Adagio’s mind kicked in, the part that liked to play with her food, and she leaned in closer. “Are you saying I’m not beautiful?” she teased, batting her eyelashes. If Twilight blushed any harder, Adagio fully expected steam to shoot out of her ears. “I– I–” She grabbed the book in front of her and stood it up vertically, obscuring her face. “I’m never opening my mouth again.” Adagio couldn’t contain the hungry grin that had spread across her face. She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket and rolled her eyes. Twilight was really committing to this, wasn’t she? She fished it out, only to discover that the message was not from Twilight, but from Sonata. ‘hey,’ it said. ‘Hey,’ replied Adagio. ‘I’m studying, I’ll talk to you later.’ She was about to return the phone to her pocket when it buzzed again. ‘still?’ ‘im bord’ ‘wen will u b done?’ The texts kept coming, and Adagio could feel her eye twitching with irritation. Why had she given Sonata her number? Having time away from her fellow Sirens had certainly helped their relationship when they got back together, but if Sonata could contact her anytime and from anywhere, Adagio was certain she would be driven to strangle her. “Is there a way to make my phone not buzz when someone texts me?” asked Adagio. “Just one person.” Twilight’s head popped up from behind the book. “Sorry?” “Nevermind, I think I found it.” Sure enough, while the relentless flow of texts from Sonata (most of which were one or two words) continued, Adagio’s phone was no longer trying to fight its way out of her hand. She laid it on the table. “You’re getting better with that,” commented Twilight. “I had a good teacher,” replied Adagio, with a smile. “Speaking of which...” “Right,” said Twilight. She took down her makeshift barrier (the last hints of pink draining from her cheeks) and grabbed another book from the top of her pile. “I was thinking we could start with–” Twilight was cut off by another blast of vibration. At first, Adagio assumed Sonata had grown tired of having her texts go unanswered and was trying to call her, but quickly deduced that it wasn’t her who was getting the call. Picking her own phone up from off the table, Twilight looked at the screen in dismay. “What is he doing?” she murmured. “I told him not to call me during...” “Who?” asked Adagio. Twilight looked up in confusion. Apparently she’d been thinking out loud. “Timber,” she said, and Adagio felt an immediate surge of anger. “He knows we’re studying now.” “Just ignore him,” muttered Adagio. The phone continued to vibrate. “If I ignore him he might get worried, or he might call again. I should just pick up and tell him I can’t talk.” Twilight stood up from her seat and headed for the door. Adagio wasn’t entirely certain why she couldn’t take the call in the room, but at the same time she knew that she had absolutely no desire to listen to Twilight talk to Timber. She did derive some solace from Twilight’s reaction to Timber’s call (and Twilight’s priorities), and with a little luck, maybe Timber would say something stupid and give Twilight even more reason to be angry with him. Or maybe not. Adagio didn’t want to see Twilight upset… that would get in the way of their studying. The sound of the doorknob turning behind her was immediately followed by a short scuffle, a yelp, and the sound of something heavy hitting the floor. Adagio whirled around, spotting a shocked looking Twilight standing over the prone figures of Rainbow Dash and Sunset Shimmer. For a moment, the only sound in the room was Twilight’s phone. Then, there was silence. The newcomers untangled their limbs and got to their feet, looking sheepishly between Adagio and Twilight. “Girls, what are you doing here?” Twilight folded her arms, and from the tone of her voice, it seemed she already knew the answer. “I told you this was a dumb idea,” said Rainbow Dash in a half-whisper. “What?” hissed Sunset. “You practically dragged me here!” “Only because you told me if I came alone you’d call Twilight!” “Because I was afraid you’d do something reckless!” “Like getting caught spying on us?” asked Adagio, dryly. “We weren’t spying,” insisted Sunset, “we were...” She trailed off, trying desperately to think of a way to make their situation look less incriminating. “We were spying,” said Rainbow. Sunset’s face found her palm with an audible slap. “But we had a good reason: she’s up to something.” Rainbow pointed an accusatory finger at Adagio, who didn’t react. Why would she? Rainbow Dash was digging her own grave, and Adagio needed only to wait and see if she’d lie in it. Twilight looked from her friends to her phone and let out a frustrated sigh. “I need to make a phone call. You two, I’ll deal with you when I get back.” She looked back at Adagio. “I’m really sorry about all this.” Adagio shrugged. “It’s fine.” Rainbow and Sunset got out of the way as Twilight made for the door. She fixed them with one last look – not of anger, but of something far worse: disappointment – before letting it click close behind her. “So,” said Rainbow, taking a step towards Adagio, “what are you really up to?” “Dash,” said Sunset in a warning tone. “What?” asked Rainbow. “I’m just talking to her!” Sunset didn’t respond, but gave her a pointed look. “The only thing I’m up to is trying not to fail my midterms,” said Adagio. She wisely chose to leave out the part about getting her magic back and enacting her revenge on everyone who had wronged her. “As if!” declared Rainbow. “If you’re so innocent, why have Twilight sneak off to a secret meeting?” “A secret meeting at a public library?” “Behind closed doors!” “In a study room. Where we’re studying.” “It didn’t sound like studying,” said Rainbow. She linked her fingers together and performed an over the top swoon, before putting on her best impression of a sultry voice. “Oh, Twilight, are you saying I’m not beautiful?” Adagio shot from her chair, her hands balling into fists. Rainbow squared off across from her, and for a moment all anyone in the room could think of was which girl would throw the first blow. Sunset stepped between them, holding up her hands with a palm facing each of them in an attempt to sooth them, when they all heard the turning of the door handle. “Sorry about that,” said Twilight. She looked between the three girls. “Is everything alright in here?” Sunset had taken a step back and let her arms drop, leaving them standing in a triangular formation. Adagio stood akimbo, doing her best to look like she hadn’t been mere seconds away from reopening the wounds on her knuckles with help from Rainbow’s face; and Rainbow simply pretended to examine her nails (not that there was much to examine) while still giving Adagio a dangerous side-eye. “Everything’s fine!” said Sunset, forcing a smile. “Yup,” said Rainbow. “Peachy,” said Adagio, through gritted teeth. Twilight didn’t look convinced. Actually, upon closer inspection, she looked… upset. Her eyes were puffy and she had the drained air of someone who had just finished with an argument – an air that Adagio knew all too well, and didn’t like seeing on Twilight. While Adagio struggled to find a way to bring this up to Twilight, Sunset beat her to the punch. “Twilight, are you okay?” Rainbow looked at Twilight in concern, before turning back to face Adagio. “What did you do?” “Are you serious? I’ve been in here with you this whole time!” “Yeah, well, maybe you had one of your Siren friends–” “It wasn’t her!” said Twilight, cutting Rainbow off. “It was Timber. He’s acting… I don’t know. Can we talk about this later?” she gave Sunset a pleading look. “Of course, Twilight,” said Sunset. “Come on, Dash, we’re leaving.” “What? But we haven’t even–” “Now. I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” She grabbed Rainbow by the wrist and began to drag her toward the door. Rainbow followed reluctantly, holding up two fingers to her eyes, then pointing them at Adagio as if to say ‘I’m watching you’ before the door closed behind them. Twilight sighed. “I’m sorry about that. I know they mean well, but...” “It’s okay,” said Adagio. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, before forcing herself to make eye contact with Twilight. “Do you want to talk about it?” Twilight smiled at her. It was a sad smile, but a genuine one. “No,” she said, “but thanks. Not just for the offer, but for putting up with my friends snooping around and the little game of Siren-twenty-questions earlier. And just for putting up with me in general, I suppose.” “Twilight Sparkle, I don’t simply ‘put up’ with you. Believe it or not, I do genuinely enjoy coming here.” It was something she’d admitted before – both to herself and to Twilight – but every time she felt as if she was betraying some part of herself. Deriving personal enjoyment from spending time with Twilight Sparkle beyond that which came from the fulfillment of her plans was troublesome. She’d already caught herself questioning what would happen to her newfound friendship with Twilight when she regained her magic, and knew in her heart that allowing this attachment to grow any further would only lead to misery. But, perhaps more troubling than any of this, was the fact that Adagio was finding it increasingly difficult to care. Or, more accurately, to not care. “I enjoy it, too,” said Twilight. She returned to her seat, prompting Adagio to do the same. Twilight began flipping through the book before her, but paused before she reached the current chapter. “There was one more thing I wanted to ask you.” “You’re not going to call me a fish again, are you?” “No, and I didn’t call you a fish,” said Twilight. “I was just thinking, since we both like doing this, maybe when midterms are over we can keep getting together. Call it a study group, or something. I mean, it’s not really a study group since it’s just the two of us, and we won’t have to do it every day, but if–” “Yes,” said Adagio. “Yes?” “Yes, we should keep doing this after midterms,” said Adagio. It was an easy decision. Not only would that prolong her ability to use Twilight’s expertise in rebuilding her device, it would give Adagio another excuse to get away from Crystal Prep and spend time with her. A win-win, really. This time, when Twilight smiled, there was no hint of sadness. “Great!” she exclaimed. “It’s a date!” “A date?” asked Adagio, coyly. “It’s an expression. Rarity uses it, I was just trying it out. I don’t think it’s for me.” “I don’t know. First you’re calling me beautiful, now you’re arranging dates… I’m starting to think I was brought here under false pretenses.” If Twilight blushed any more that night, Adagio was fairly certain her head would explode. “I–I think we were starting chapter eight, right?” “Chapter nine,” corrected Adagio. “Nine, right. Well then, let’s get started, shall we?” Adagio’s good mood lasted through her session with Twilight, her bus ride back to Crystal Prep, and might have continued until the next day if she hadn’t encountered one of her least favorite people in the world (or any world, for that matter) at the door to the girls’ dormitory. Fleur de Lis. But what was she doing? Adagio slowed her pace, hoping that Fleur would just go inside and save them both the displeasure of having to interact with one another, but with each step bringing them closer together, a confrontation seemed inevitable. As she approached, Adagio started to get a better look at what exactly Fleur was doing at the door, and the answer seemed to be fighting with it. With all the strength she could muster with her one good hand she rattled the door handle, shaking the door in its frame but failing to open it. It was immediately clear to Adagio that the door was either stuck or locked, and in the case of the latter, if Fleur didn’t change tactics she – and, by extension, Adagio – would be here for a while. Eventually, Adagio got to the point where she couldn’t delay any longer, and found herself standing awkwardly behind Fleur. She could hear Fleur’s frustrated grunts and the dull thud of her fist against the door’s thick glass window on the occasion that Fleur stopped jostling the door and briefly attempted a different tactic. Another time, Adagio might have found such a pathetic display by someone she despised to be at least somewhat entertaining, but whatever amusement she might have derived from Fleur’s predicament was eclipsed by the fact that, not only did she also have to deal with the door, she was also forced into dealing with Fleur de Lis. Having watched as much as she could stand, Adagio cleared her throat. Fleur jumped, then whirled around to face Adagio. Her surprise was quickly replaced by a look of sheer loathing, and without saying a word she resumed her attack on the door with renewed vigor. “It’s not opening,” said Adagio. Fleur continued to pretend she didn’t exist. “Fine,” said Adagio, rolling her eyes and taking a step forward, “at least let me–” “Stay away from me!” The look in Fleur’s eyes reminded Adagio of a cornered animal. They were facing one another again, Fleur having adopted a guarded stance almost as if she was expecting a fight. Adagio took another step forward and Fleur skirted the wall away from the door, ensuring the distance between them never shrank. Adagio blinked. Fleur was afraid of her. “Relax,” said Adagio. As desperately as her brain wanted to analyze this new development, it could wait until she was back inside. “I just want to see if I can get it open.” Fleur scoffed. “Please, if I couldn’t get it open, what makes you think you can?” Adagio’s eyes narrowed. If Fleur wanted a fight, she’d get one. “Oh, I don’t know, I just thought I’d try using two hands.” Fleur snarled. “Excuse me?” “You heard me.” Adagio took hold of the handle and pulled. The door didn’t budge. “It’s locked,” she said. “No, really?” asked Fleur, making no attempt to hide her sarcasm. This time it was Adagio’s turn to ignore Fleur. She reached into her pocket and withdrew her cellphone, navigating to her contacts with ease. Her finger hovered over Sonata’s icon, but after a moment of consideration, she decided to call Sugarcoat instead. The phone rang five times before the call was connected. “Adagio, it’s quarter after twelve. Curfew was over an hour ago.” Adagio winced. Her session with Twilight had gone late, but luckily she’d managed to catch the last bus back to Crystal Prep. She’d assumed she could just slip in like last time, but apparently that was not the case. “I know what time it is,” hissed Adagio. “The door to the dorms is locked. Could you come down and let us in?” “Us?” asked Sugarcoat. “You’ll see.” There was a brief pause. “Fine, give me a few minutes.” “Thanks, Sugarcoat,” said Adagio, and the call terminated. “What a surprise, the two losers are sticking together.” Adagio turned her attention back to Fleur. “What’s your problem?” “What’s my problem?” Fleur’s fury finally overcame her fear and she took a step toward Adagio, her hand balled into a tight fist. “Are you forgetting the time you attacked me?” ‘Attack’ was a strong word for what had happened, but if that was the game they were playing, Adagio was more than willing to oblige. “You attacked Sugarcoat!” “Seriously? You break my wrist because I bumped into your loser friend? Do you even know what she did?” “It doesn’t matter what she did!” exclaimed Adagio. “You can’t just–” Adagio cut herself off. “Can’t just what?” asked Fleur. She took another step forward and waved her cast in Adagio’s face. “Can’t just hurt people who you think deserved it? That’s rich coming from you.” It had been easy to justify what she did to Fleur at the time. She hadn’t meant to hurt her, just to take her down a peg. Fleur was the one who had started the violence, and all Adagio did was give her a taste of her own medicine! But those were just excuses. “An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind,” recited Adagio. Thanks, Twilight Sparkle. “What?” “I shouldn’t have tripped you–” “Obviously,” interrupted Fleur. Adagio grit her teeth and continued. “–but you shouldn’t have hurt Sugarcoat, either. It doesn’t matter how we justify it, we were both wrong.” Adagio hated admitting she was wrong. Admitting she was wrong was almost as bad, if not worse than being wrong in the first place. But at least I get to take Fleur down with me, she thought. A small consolation. Fleur’s brow furrowed and she glared at Adagio searchingly. Adagio could almost hear the gears turning in her head, and after a few more long seconds of silence, Fleur harrumphed and turned away. “You’re a hypocrite, you know that?” Her tone was venomous. “Yeah,” said Adagio. They both were. The two girls lapsed once again into a tense silence, which was eventually broken by the opening of the door. Sugarcoat, dressed in a housecoat (underneath which she wore a now familiar pair of pajamas) and slippers, looked from Adagio to Fleur, then back again. “I was in bed,” she said flatly. “I can see that,” said Adagio. “Thanks for coming down.” Sugarcoat shrugged. Adagio placed a hand on the door and stepped inside. She glanced back over her shoulder to where Fleur now stood, leaning against the exterior wall and refusing to meet her gaze. “You coming?” asked Adagio. Fleur ignored her. “The door opens from the inside, but it will lock again when it closes,” said Sugarcoat. She’d spoken to Adagio, but the implication was clear. Fleur could either suck up her pride and follow them in, or she could go back to being locked out in the cold and the dark. A minute passed, and Adagio felt her arm starting to cramp up from holding the door. Why was she even bothering? Adagio might have been wrong to trip Fleur, but that didn’t make her any less insufferable. If Fleur was going to act like a child, that was her business, and this time she couldn’t blame Adagio for the consequences of her own actions. Adagio was a split second from letting the door close and abandoning Fleur to her fate when the other girl made her move. Fleur brushed past Adagio, her eyes glued to the floor, but stopped when she reached Sugarcoat. “Thanks,” she muttered. It was barely audible, and before either Sugarcoat or Adagio had recovered enough to respond, Fleur had disappeared down a corridor. “That was weird,” said Sugarcoat. Adagio sighed. “Come on, let’s get you back to bed.”