//------------------------------//
// Out of the Loop 
// Story: Gormless 
// by Curtis Wildcat 
//------------------------------//

It wasn't so clear to me then, but I was always one of the class misfits. Not an outcast, really, but closer to someone who didn't go out of his way to make any friends. I was one of those who didn't fit into any particular mold. Happily, there were others I knew in that same category.

Oak Branch was one such person. He had the visual trappings of a nerd---below average weight, slightly pronounced front teeth, et cetera---but little of the mental makeup, at least not to me. We didn't get along well when we first met, but time and an argument over whether Star Trek's technology was better than that of Star Wars or not changed that. I only wish I was kidding about that last one.

(He also had a rather distinct advantage over a fourth of the people in the school, but I'll bring that up at a later time. It's not important right now anyhow.)

It had been almost a week since classes had started, and we'd gotten used to our schedules by then. Sadly, the lemon-skinned and magenta-haired nuisance I'd been dreading did turn up in school the second day, having been out sick during the first one. I'd really hoped that he'd moved away somewhere, but no such chance. He gave me the occasional glare or amused smirk when we passed in the hallway, and I tried my best to ignore him. About the only saving grace was that 2nd-hour gym was the only class he had with me.

And of course, there were plenty of other oddities to talk about. "...so I get to school, open up my locker, and someone jumps out of it," Oak was telling me at lunch. "She was babbling about wanting to know when my birthday was so that she'd know exactly when to throw the party for it."

One of the other people at our table, a guy of Vietnamese descent with a sarcastic streak a mile wide, looked as confused as all get out. "How'd she even get into your locker in the first place? Did she steal your combination or something?"

"I think I know who you're talking about, Rice," said a fourth, a slightly well-rounded guy who was more knowledgeable about stuff than myself. His name was 'Melodic Farms', but he was quick to tell us that he had nothing to do with the farmland outside of town. "She's known for always doing crazy stuff like that."

"Crazy enough to get into the classroom through the ceiling?" Rice asked, shrugging at our confused expressions. "Yeah, that's a thing. She said that she misplaced a balloon packet past the tiles. Seriously, what?"

Oak swallowed the mouthful of hamburger he was eating. "It bugs me. She's a sophomore now, which means she would have been in 7th grade when we were starting middle school. Did we just not see her there, or what?"

"Maybe she wasn't always so crazy?" asked Lieutenant Tenant, a nice-looking kid with neatly combed black hair. His speech and mannerisms seemed a bit awkward, for reasons it took me years to figure out. 

The table was silent as everyone focused on their lunches. In the meantime, someone had a high-pitched sneezing fit in the background. "...Yeah, not likely," we finally agreed.

"I have a question of my own," I brought up now that whatever lunatic they were talking about was no longer a topic. "What's the difference between the Fall Formal and Homecoming? I'm kinda confused."

Oak opened his mouth to speak, but someone else beat him to it. "I can answer that."

As one, everyone at the table turned to see who had spoken. We hadn't been at CHS long, and already we knew who he was: Flash Sentry, one of the most well-known and most often seen faces among the upperclassmen. I wasn't acquainted with him, but I had a vague remembrance of seeing him in the halls quite a lot back in middle school. "The Fall Formal is just this massive in-school party held after classes, with no involvement outside the students and school staff. Towards the end of it, the girl voted for by the majority of students is crowned as the Formal's princess, with no grade limitations."

"What about Homecoming?" asked the final member of our group. He was more a friend of Oak's than of mine and also spoke the least, but I got the impression that he was a lot smarter than he seemed to be. He'd never given a family name, just telling me to call him 'Solvent' when we first met.

"That's more a series of public events than a single private one," Flash explained, looking around the cafeteria as if trying to find someone. "Aside from a weekend dance, there's also a parade and a football game held earlier in the day... your classmates are probably working on the floats already. The person crowned as Homecoming Queen is selected from the senior class." He gave us a wave. "Sorry to cut and run, but I need to catch up to Sunset Shimmer before she leaves me behind."

Most of us waved him off, with Rice being the one to thank him. "No problem, man. Nice meeting you."

I frowned as Flash jogged out of earshot. "Sunset Shimmer, huh?" I said to myself.

"What's up with you, Puma?"

"I don't like her," I told Rice plainly. "There's something about her that rubs me the wrong way."

"What's wrong with her?" Farms asked. "She seems nice enough if you ignore what that Snails guy told us. I'm thinking about voting for her for the Formal."

"I don't know," I said, trying and failing to think of a good reason. "I just don't know. I listen to her speak in class. She hasn't bullied me or anything like Dallas Austin has been doing. But I still can't help but think something's wrong."

Oak gave the rest of the table a quick look. "Want to talk about it, or shall we just get into 'the game'?"

Most of us gave affirmatives in favor of said game, myself among them: I never did like thinking about stuff that made me upset. From then up until the back-to-class bell rang, our time was spent acting out roles in a galaxy where reality had no hold on us, letting us forget the drudgeries of life even if it was for only a few minutes.





With a smile, Sunset concluded that word had gotten around quickly about who she was. She liked that.

In the time since class started, the entire freshman class had become wary of her. Aside from Snips and Snails spreading rumors, a handful of her prior victims had stepped forward to warn off anyone who got wrong ideas, unknowingly doing their work for them. It was going to make winning this year's Fall Formal a bit tricky, but it was nothing she couldn't pull off. She'd managed it twice already, after all.

Respected, and to a certain extent even feared. As long as she played nice in front of the Principal and Vice-Principal, she was untouchable. Yeah, I'm definitely going to miss this routine when I'm gone.

Fifth-hour programming class had come and gone. The teacher, Mrs. Trades---more commonly referred to as "Mrs. Jack of all Trades"---tried her best for sure, but with today's material more or less figured out Sunset had found her thoughts wandering. Her eyes lit upon Puma Claw as the teacher called on him to answer a question. Well, it would be more accurate to say that almost the entire freshman class was wary of me.

Sunset had gotten pretty good at reading people, and for the most part Puma read like an open book. Somewhat slow on the uptake, with a bit of a temper lurking beneath the surface: she'd overheard his responses to several kids who were making fun of him. Unless prodded by the teacher, many of his responses to others (that she knew of) came in the form of short, clipped sentences. On the whole he was a dim bulb, with a few flickering flashes of illumination that were just as quickly extinguished.

On the other hand, he clearly knows of my reputation by now... but for some reason, it doesn't look like he cares. Whenever I say something to draw attention to myself, he either shrugs or looks like he has his head in the clouds. Which leads me to wonder: should I put the fear of me into him, or just wait and see how things play out?

The first one is a bit on the risky side. He looks like he's one bad day away from just hauling off and decking someone, suspension or not. I could take him if he got mad enough to do that, but there's still the matter of getting away with it without any eyewitnesses, leaving him with just his word against mine. The second one is a mixed bag: if he already knows about me and just isn't inclined to do anything about it, that would seem to indicate that he already respects what I can do and isn't inclined to give me any grief over it... but I'd be left without the satisfaction of knowing that he's aware of who's in charge.

...

Eh, I'll go with the second option. A single ambiguous student of that type doesn't feel like it would be worth the time and effort.

Now, Fluttershy on the other hand...

"Hey, queen bee," someone behind her said. "You going to buy something, or not?"

It was at that moment that Sunset was thankful that she was standing in front of the vending machine the entire time, or else anyone around her would've been wondered why she was grinning for no good reason.





Free periods. They were something that the middle school lacked, and I was thankful for them.

Technically, the students were to be at school for roughly seven hours. However, only six classes per student were scheduled: the remaining time was set aside for the students to do things like finish homework, socialize somewhere on campus as long as they didn't disturb any classes in session, hang out or read at the library, do any work associated with their clubs or setting up school events... things of that nature.

My own free period was scheduled for sixth hour, and as I got used to it I knew where I wanted to spend it. I sure wasn't going to spend it on homework as long as there were people waiting to disturb my peace. Neither did I intend to spend it with anyone: aside from the fact that none of my friendlier classmates shared the same free period, I wasn't a people person by any stretch of the imagination. Thus, my destination every day was the gymnasium.

The gym was empty by that hour. CHS's freshmen were the only ones who were required to take classes there during the day, and the entire 9th grade had already passed through by the time lunch rolled around. With the exception of a few upperclassmen whose time coincided with mine (and who were generally more inclined to mind their own business), I usually had the gym to myself.

I always spent the time shooting baskets. Basketball was the sport I preferred, but I was never truly great at it. Shooting 3-pointers and being able to steal the ball is all well and good, but that by itself doesn't mean the player is talented. Still, it was something to do, and it was nice to be able to play it in light of our family's own backboard being devoid of a rim to shoot through.

One day not long before the Fall Formal, I'd just stopped at the free-throw line to shoot when I heard something I'd recognize anywhere: the squeaky call of a kitten. My shot clanged off the rim, and the ball bounced off somewhere to the left.

I didn't care. I'd heard a kitten somewhere, and I was going to find it. Assuming it wasn't inclined to rip my hands apart with its tiny little dagger claws, I was going to pet it, too.

I was able to locate it after a bit of searching, and in hindsight I should've expected what it was up to. Hidden near the bleachers at the back of the gym was Fluttershy, trying her best to make herself invisible. Not helping her out was the little orange kitten in her hands---probably not more than two months old---mewing repeatedly and trying to paw her face as if trying to console her about something.

It was easy to understand why one could make that assumption. Fluttershy had been quieter than usual during programming class, her voice a near whisper both times the teacher had called on her. If her downcast face and weary appearance when I saw her in the gym were any indication, she seemed to have undergone a lot of stress recently.

I didn't know how to handle any of that stuff, though. I didn't know why she seemed sad, only that she was. And in any event, my attention was drawn more towards the kitten; even as distressed as she was, there was no way Fluttershy could have missed that. Hesitantly, she held the kitten out towards me and allowed me to skritch it behind the ears, something that the little critter enjoyed.

By the time I was able to force myself away from the kitten and go back to my practicing a few minutes later, I was smiling broadly. For that matter so was Fluttershy, albeit nowhere close to the same extent: she'd been concerned that I was going to tell one of the teachers or whoever that she'd been smuggling animals into school, but I didn't feel like it was worth the effort. Besides, people who liked cats couldn't be bad, right?

...

It wasn't until two days later that I would understand just how much Fluttershy needed something to go right for her, and why she appreciated my casual acceptance of her odd habits.





The day that things began to change for me had passed by like any other: went to classes, dealt with the incessant mockery of my peers, had a gaming session during lunch, basketball during free period, the usual stuff. Following my final class, I stopped at my locker just long enough to lighten my duffel bag's load for the walk home. Since Dallas Austin was most likely waiting at the front door to hassle me, I'd opted to head for one of the other exits. Last thing I needed was him trying to taunt me into punching him.

"...Why do you even bother?"

I'd just reached my chosen exit when I heard Sunset's voice in an adjoining hallway. It wasn't my business what she did with her time, so I was inclined to keep on going.

At least until I heard the whine of a small dog. I stopped with my hand a few inches from the door, listening carefully.

"Look, Fluttershee," Sunset was saying harshly, purposefully bungling the other girl's name. "You've been told this time and time again. You're not supposed to bring in every stray animal you see off the streets."

"But---"

"Seriously, I shouldn't have to spell this out for you. No one wants to spend time with you, I get that, but is this strange obsession of yours really so bad that you have to violate school policies just for companionship? I bet he hasn't even had all of his shots!"

"But she's---"

Sunset raised an index finger, cutting her off. "Not another word. I don't want to hear it, and I can't think of a single person who does. When you leave, take the dog with you and don't come back with him tomorrow. That okay with you, wallflower? Huh?"

With that, the sun set on a darkened mood as the flame-haired teenager stormed off down the hall. Fluttershy stared at Sunset as she left, looked down at the dachshund in her arms, sighed and murmured something apologetically to it before slowly walking towards me. Her eyes were part-way closed and shimmering as she passed me, exiting out the door I was about to take.

So were the dachshund's, but I was sure that was coincidence.

I forced out the breath I was holding and tried to keep myself from yelling in anger. Eventually I was able to force my fury back down into my gut, at the price of a slight feeling of nausea. "I am seriously starting to dislike the queen bee," I growled.

"Me, too," said a student who had stopped next to me while the confrontation was taking place. "Wallflower's my name, not Fluttershy's."

My double-take at her presence would have been funny if the situation hadn't been so serious.