The days started to get warmer. What remained of the snow covering the streets was just a memory, circling down the gutters and disappearing underground. First blades of grass and leaves on the trees started to show up shyly. People in the town got rid of their winter jackets, opting for something lighter instead, even if it meant freezing if the weather decided to remind them that winter wasn’t quite over.
Sugarcoat sneezed. “Damn allergy,” she muttered. “Who came up with springs?”
“I should’ve known you’re a bundle of genetic fuck-ups,” Sandalwood said. “What else are you hiding?”
“I’m hiding the fact that I hate walks in the park,” Sugarcoat replied. “Apparently pretty well, given that’s where you took me. Though knowing you, you may have invited me specifically to piss me off.”
“You got me.” Sandalwood chuckled, hugging her.
Sugarcoat smirked. “If that was an assassination attempt, you need to try harder. Though as far as getting my boyfriend goes, I probably can’t match Indigo.”
“What did she do?” Sandalwood asked. “Bulk didn’t tell me. Hell, I’m no longer sure if they’re still a thing.”
“Oh, they will,” Sugarcoat replied. “As for what she did, I won’t tell you.”
Sandalwood’s smile faltered. “Why?”
Sugarcoat shrugged. “I learn from history. Both the ‘careless talk may cost lives’ thing and that bit with Sour Sweet and Suri.”
“You’re teasing me, Ms. Sugarcoat,” Sandalwood purred.
“Always.” Sugarcoat chuckled. “Also, there are more interesting things to talk about, like, for example, this lovely weather…” She pointed at the sky; there were dark clouds hanging over them, suggesting that rain wasn’t a matter of “if” but rather “when”.
Sandalwood nodded. “Yeah, we’d better get somewhere else…”
Bulk took a few steps back and looked at his boat. It was almost finished; he’d still have to paint it and fit it with a mast and all the necessary equipment, but the hull was already there.
“So, do we get champagne?” Muffins asked. Against her better judgement, she’d decided to go on a bicycle ride into the woods, only to end up in Bulk’s house, soaked to the bone by the rain.
“Nah, only after it’s finally on water,” Bulk replied. “But I think we can go somewhere in the Summer… Maybe Indigo will want to come with us.”
“Yeah.” Muffins shrugged. “Do you think Flash would come? I have some plans…”
“Do they involve holding his head underwater until he swears he’ll be yours and yours only?” Bulk asked. “I must tell you that on my boat, we don’t allow keelhauling.”
“Too bad.” Muffins sighed. “What if Indigo and me start a mutiny?”
“Walking the plank,” Bulk replied, putting a few screwdrivers in the toolbox. “Though I’m not sure if Indigo will come. She doesn’t call since the last time we met and doesn’t answer my calls. I don’t know why.”
Suddenly, Bulk’s phone started to ring. For a while, Bulk was looking around the workshop, trying to find where he’d put it, until Muffins saw it lying on the shelf next to a box of nails.
“Don’t you think the universe wants to tell you something?” Muffins gave Bulk the phone.
Bulk looked at the phone. “It’s probably not what I want it to tell me,” he said. “It’s Sandalwood.” He picked up the phone. “What’s up, man?”
“Hello,” Sandalwood whispered. “I have to be quiet so I don’t wake Sugarcoat up.”
“Is she secretly a praying mantis?” Bulk asked. “If so, she ate your brain a while ago, you just didn’t notice.”
“You’re truly a master of wit,” Sandalwood deadpanned. “Sugarcoat just didn’t tell me what you didn’t tell me about something Indigo told you. What is it?”
Bulk scratched his head. “Can you say that again?”
“What did Indigo tell you recently? Sugarcoat found that serious enough not to tell me,” Sandalwood replied. “She also said something about Sour Sweet and Suri Polomare.”
“Then I guess I won’t tell you either.” Bulk shrugged. “Because, for starters, I don’t know what she’s talking about.”
“Oh, come on,” Sandalwood muttered. “You can tell me. It’s not like–”
Suddenly, another sleepy voice interrupted him. “Ready for round two, daddy?”
“Oh, hell.” Bulk ended the call and put the phone on the table. “That’s not something I want to listen to.”
“What was that?” Muffins asked. “Or did he just call to tell you that he got laid?”
“Something cryptic about Indigo.” Bulk shrugged. “It’d be easier to decipher if she picked up my calls.”
Muffins nodded and produced a phone from her pocket. It was a heavy-duty model with a slightly cracked screen and the case scratched in several places. “Hmm, I don’t think she has my number…” Before Bulk could react, she grabbed his phone and opened the contacts list. “Let’s see…”
“If you drop my phone…” Bulk shuddered. “It’s the first one I managed not to sit on.”
“Don’t worry.” Muffins said, putting his phone back on the table. “Time for an experiment.” She put her phone on speaker.
After a few signals, Indigo picked up. “Muffins? What’s going on?”
“You have my number?” Muffins asked. “I was just wondering about that.”
“You gave it to me when we were looking for your bike,” Indigo replied.
“Ah, of course.” Muffins slapped her forehead. “What’s up? Haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Sunny Flare just told me she considers transferring to Canterlot High,” Indigo said. “Cinch doesn’t want to see her after she came to school drunk. Not to mention that her father stopped sponsoring Crystal Prep.”
“Also, some bitch stole my soccer shoes and threw them on the fence!” Sunny Flare yelled in the background.
Muffins’ hand trembled. “Tell her that if she ever shows up in our school, I’ll break her nose for what she did to Sweet Leaf.”
“Seems you’re getting homeschooled,” Indigo said to Sunny Flare.
“Yeah.” Muffins smirked. “Anything else we can talk about? Like, any particular reason you’re avoiding Bulk, for example?”
Bulk facepalmed. “Smooth.”
“Umm…” Indigo’s voice faltered. “Did he ask you to call me?”
“No, technically it was my idea,” Muffins replied.
“Well, I’d rather discuss that with him,” Indigo said, stuttering slightly.
“That’s a bit hard since you’re not picking up my calls,” Bulk muttered, frowning.
“Man, sorry!” Indigo exclaimed. “You know, I’m in a bit of a pickle. Seriously, we need to talk, but I’d prefer to do that in person. Without any witnesses.”
“Okay, I get it,” Muffins muttered. “I’ll shut up.”
“It’s not about you, it’s about everyone,” Indigo replied. “So, tomorrow after school, okay? Maybe somewhere in the mall.”
“Sure,” Bulk said. “See you tomorrow, then.”
When Bulk got to the mall, Indigo was already there. He found her sitting in the corner of their favourite cafe. She looked pale and nervous, playing with her spoon idly, seemingly unaware of her surroundings. When Bulk sat at the table, facing her, she winced, sinking deeper into her comfy armchair.
“Are you okay?” Bulk asked. “Did something happen?”
Indigo nodded, staring at her coffee. “Kind of.”
“Kind of?” Bulk looked at Indigo. “I’m getting kind of worried here, you know. After the last time we met, you completely stopped talking to me. I mean… Was it something I said?”
“No, it’s not that.” Indigo waved her hand. “I still don’t quite get that, myself.”
“What do you mean?” Bulk asked. “Don’t get me wrong, but you look like you had a terrible day. Or a week.”
“Even worse, actually.” Indigo sighed, closing her eyes as tears flowed down her face. “I just don’t know what to do…”
“Just tell me what’s wrong,” Bulk said, leaning over the table to hug her. “I guess we’ll find some way… Is it about your friends?”
“It’s about us,” Indigo whispered, shuddering and weeping. “Bulk, I... I’m pregnant…” She broke the hug, sitting back on the couch.
“Oh.” Bulk froze for a moment before sitting back on his seat and taking a deep breath. “H-how?” He cleared his throat, seeing Indigo’s face. “I mean… Like…”
“Something went wrong with condoms,” Indigo replied. “It’s not our fault…”
“Well, it kinda is my fault,” Bulk muttered. “I mean, I’m the father, so…” He rested his head on his arms. “Holy shit, what will we do…”
Indigo wiped her tears and sat straight in her seat. “Yeah, that’s what I keep asking myself.” She shrugged. “I’m just not ready. Not just for having this baby… I’m not even ready to decide what to do. Hell, even my parents don’t know yet…”
“Maybe you should tell them,” Bulk said. “They’d know what to do…”
“Sugarcoat already painted a really bright vision of a future where our kid steals cars like my sister,” Indigo muttered. “And my parents were older than us when she was born.”
“Well, I’d say they got more experienced since then,” Bulk replied. “And there are always my parents too.” He smiled. “This shouldn’t be that bad. I mean, my older brother has children too and they took it well.”
“That’s the problem.” Indigo sighed. “I feel like I disappointed my parents. I spent my whole life trying not to repeat their mistakes, not to be like Lightning… I failed at all of those, adding some of my own personal fuck-ups along the way.”
“Hey, you’re not a total failure,” Bulk said.
“But still a failure,” Indigo replied.
“No, of course not,” Bulk embraced Indigo, nearly knocking over her cup of coffee. “Hey, we’re in this together, aren’t we?”
“Yeah, but…” Indigo trembled, lowering her head. “I just feel a lot of things went wrong between us lately. I just don’t want you to be with me only because you feel sorry or guilty, or something…”
“Who do you think I am?” Bulk wiped tears off Indigo’s face and smiled. “As I said, we’re in this together. We can go to our parents right now and tell them what happened.”
Indigo gulped. “I’m not sure this will go well…”
Out of all the rooms in Sunny Flare’s house, she liked this one the most. It was small; the bed and the nightstand took most of the space. It had a thick, fluffy carpet Sunny really liked. The walls were adorned with a couple of drawings from her childhood she kept out of sentiment. For Sunny, however, the most important part was that there was not a single bottle of alcohol hidden there.
“Thirty days,” Sunny muttered to herself. She was sitting on her bed, painting her toenails. A small pile of books littered the nightstand and the floor next to it – since she was effectively kicked out of one school and apparently not welcome in another, she had way more free time than she ever wanted or needed.
Waiting for the nail polish to dry she was about to pick one of the books when someone knocked at the window. Sunny quickly wrapped her sleeping gown tighter around herself and looked at it. She heard knocking again so she walked to the window and opened it.
Immediately, she was handed a backpack. Then, Indigo climbed to her room and landed swiftly on the floor. “Hello,” she said, taking the backpack from Sunny.
Sunny frowned. “Are you and Sour communists, anarchists, or other guys who think people who have big houses should let all the homeless live in them?”
“I’m not homeless,” Indigo replied. “I just kinda have no place to live right now.”
“What happened this time?” Sunny asked. “Bulk doesn’t want to know you and your parents kicked you out?” She shrugged. “I didn’t expect them to do that.”
“No and no,” Indigo replied. “He took it well and he doesn’t know I’m here. As for my parents, they were pretty shocked. Like, they seemed too shocked to say anything, so I went to my room, packed my things and decided to leave for a while.”
“Yeah, sure.” Sunny furrowed her eyebrows. “I can imagine Sour’s parents doing that. But yours?”
Indigo blushed and lowered her head. “Okay, I kinda heard them… arguing. They didn’t want to do it in my presence, but I still heard them. I just want to wait until the atmosphere clears.”
“In my house?” Sunny sighed. “Do I have a big ‘Girls With Issues Storage’ sign above my door?”
“No, you just have a cool house,” Indigo replied.
Sunny lay on her bed and rubbed her temples. “Fuck it,” she muttered. “Dunno how about you, but for me, the atmosphere clears tomorrow. Then, you’re either going back to your parents or to Bulk, I don’t care.” She turned to Indigo. “Besides, you’re pregnant. I don’t know shit about it, but it probably wasn’t healthy to climb to my window like a goddamn Spiderman.”
Indigo looked down on her stomach. “I feel fine. Just a little tired.”
“I’m serious, though,” Sunny said. “When I was in that strange place, they examined me and it turned out I have high blood pressure, my pancreas is a mess, and that my liver is thirty years old. Since then, I’m kinda sensitive about health. Are you sure you don’t have gestational diabetes?”
Indigo groaned. “Sunny…”
“What?”
“Shut up,” Indigo replied. “Wait a minute, I need to act like I’m responsible and tell Bulk where I am.” She produced her phone from her backpack. “Then you can talk to me about your liver all night...”