Moondancer now
Sorry. I'm fine. See you tomorrow. 
Before the world changed, if someone had told Sugarcoat that she'd be part of one of the four couples in her circle of friends, she'd have begun her objections by casting doubt on her having friends. Even putting aside her abrasive personality, Crystal Prep had been a cutthroat social arena where the closest thing to friendship was mutually beneficial alliance. That hadn't changed for the most part.
Sugarcoat, however, represented the least part. The aftermath of the Friendship Games had taken the top students of her year, bound largely by sharing the school's highest GPAs and Lemon Zest's desperate efforts to foster positive affect, and forged them into something resembling actual healthy human interaction well in advance of then-Dean Cadence's projected timeframe. No one was more surprised by this than Sugarcoat herself, especially in light of the aforementioned abrasive personality.
And yet, a few weeks into her senior year and a few months after the Games, she found herself gravitating towards a lunch table that, through repetition, had become hers. Or more accurately, theirs. Sunny Flare and Lemon Zest were already sitting and engaged in their typical affectionate bickering.
"All I'm sayin'," said Lemon Zest, wielding a fork to emphasize points like visual aids would be edited in later, "is an actual zombie apocalypse isn't an action movie. It's closer to a siege, just like in The Great Zombie War."
Sunny Flare nodded along like that was a completely reasonable thing to say. "Book or movie?"
Lemon flinched back as though struck. "Book. Obviously. Point is, castles are super-useful when you're dealin' with a bunch of wacky waving inexorable arm-flailing dead men."
"Then they aren't really inexorable, are they?"
"Again, siege. Their exorability is a factor of how quickly you can clear 'em out of your supply routes."
"I would ask how this conversation started," Sugarcoat said as she sat, "but I'm much happier not knowing."
Lemon nodded. "That's fair."
"I'm not sure how it got to zombie warfare, and I've been here the whole time," added Sunny.
The answer was obvious, and Sugarcoat said it before she could even think to stop herself. "Because the two of you went from acquaintances to an old married couple over the course of the summer."
Sunny rolled her eyes. "Ugh. This again?"
"Seriously. Just because an ancient alien fish-horse taught us to hear each other's souls, that doesn't make us a couple."
Sugarcoat stared at Lemon Zest for what people with normal social graces would probably consider an uncomfortable length of time. Fortunately, neither of them were so burdened. "I cannot tell if you're being sincere or not."
"Right now or in general?"
"Yes."
Lemon leaned back, arms behind her head and a smug smirk on her face. "Then my master plan is working as intended."
Sunny looked to the next arrivals. "Sour, back us up here. We're not a couple, right?"
"Romantically? Oh, yeah, sure, you're just 'best friends.'" Sugarcoat had to admire Sour Sweet's ability to apply air quotes solely through vocal inflection. "Never mind that Lemon's my roommate, but spends every other night at your place."
"Hey, I'm just trying to make it so you don't have to leave a sock on the door." Lemon Zest punctuated that with finger guns at the nondescript boy who sat next to Sour.
Sour grabbed Second Person and held him to her like she was afraid Lemon would reach across the table and take him for herself. "Second and I are saving ourselves for marriage."
"And I didn't even hear about the engagement. Rude."
"We're working up to that," said Second.
Lemon shrugged. "I'm just sayin', girl could use the stress relief."
"I'm happy to leave it to the therapy crystal." He took Sour's hand in his and smiled. "We've got time."
Sour smiled back, then held up her necklace, its magical prism glittering in the cafeteria lights. "Getting to be a bitch on my own terms helps a lot."
Lemon held up her hands. "You all heard it. She said it, not me."
Indigo Zap plopped her tray down, followed by herself. "You two saying rude stuff. Wow. So much changed while I was away."
"We can't all have miraculous fairy godgirlfriends, Gogo Reference."
If looks could kill, Indigo would have reduced Lemon to a charred skeleton. "Don't call her that."
Lemon blinked, her usual carefree poise broken by the sheer vitriol. "Uh, which part?"
"Any of it."
A voice from behind Sugarcoat said, "Should I ask?"
She looked up and smiled, scooting aside to give the seventh member of the group room. Moondancer smiled back as she sat. "We're discussing our significant others," said Sugarcoat. "I believe it's our turn."
"Yeah, no, not poking fun at you two," said Lemon. "You're too precious. You got all the leftover adorkable after Twilight and Sunset grabbed their share." The others nodded and gave other signs of assent.
Even Indigo relaxed as the conversation moved away from the... entity that called itself Winter Lights and her relationship with it. Leaning back, she said, "Also, Sugarcoat would tear our heads off if we said a word against Moondancer."
Sugarcoat allowed herself a much smaller smile than the kind Moondancer could coax from her. "It would be far slower and more painful."
"Hey! Sugar made a funny!" Lemon's grin turned plastic. "Hopefully. Moony, tell me if I should sleep with one eye open tonight."
"You should be fine."
"'Should.' Nice. Keepin' me on my toes." Lemon fired another round of finger guns.
Sugarcoat and Moondancer shared a smile, though the hints of tension along Moon's eyes told of her growing discomfort. Sugarcoat reached out an arm to drape across her shoulders—
And froze as she saw Moon shrink back. She awkwardly rerouted the arm to cough into a fist. "Sorry."
"So am I." Moon stared at her lunch tray. "It's just—"
"You're not always comfortable with touch. I should have asked first."
The silence lingered long enough for Sugarcoat's guts to twist with unfamiliar shame. Then Lemon slammed the table with an open palm. "So! How about that completely natural topic change?"
"Let's go with Paradiamond," said Sunny.
Lemon nodded. "Yeah, craziest thing. Apparently some sophmore at CHS thought it up..."
The others lost themselves in idle chatter, but Sugarcoat couldn't get her mind off of her faux pas. And judging by Moondancer's frown, neither could she.
The principal's office had seen the most change out of any room at Crystal Prep. Gone was the barely-there lighting, the display cases of trophies, the diplomas so numerous that they felt like they were compensating for something. Now, even without windows, it was a brighter and airier area. Even the wallpaper had been stripped and replaced with a more soothing carnation.
Principal Cadence herself matched the area quite nicely, far more approachable than Cinch had ever been. She sat in an office chair an actual person might use rather than a high-backed throne on wheels. The cracks in her armor, from fidgeting with her still-novel wedding ring to the way her pregnancy was starting to show in earnest, helped further give the impression of someone who genuinely cared about her students and not just her reputation.
Indeed, it made Sugarcoat comfortable enough that the first thing she did upon entering the room was look around and say, "Board of trustees dragging their feet on the renovations?"
Cadence made her own survey of the office that, aside from the desk, the chair, and the two people, was completely barren. She nodded with a wry smile. "As much as they can get away with, though you didn't hear it from me. What brings you in today, Sugarcoat?"
"I..." Sugarcoat's words briefly failed her, as they often did with matters of the heart. She kept pushing. "Moondancer and I. We... I want to..." Eventually, she found how she really felt, and it came surging out the way nothing else could. "I don't know what I want for me, but I know I want her to be comfortable with me. And us. Together. And I don't know how to help her."
After Sugarcoat didn't, couldn't say anything more for a few moments, Cadence nodded. "I can understand why you came to me to discuss this, but I'm technically not your dean of students anymore."
This wasn't Sugarcoat's love life, and so she knew exactly how she felt. "You still have a unique magic directly relating to interpersonal relationships. And I'm a lot less comfortable discussing this with Ms. Diamond."
The principal nodded at that. "Yellow was the best member of the existing faculty to take the role, but I admit, she can be a bit... prickly."
"Piezoelectrically so."
"Still..." Cadence took another pointed look around the nearly empty office. "Sugarcoat, I would love to help, I really would, but I'm in the middle of revamping Crystal Prep as a whole."
Sugarcoat crossed her arms. "Helping a student who came forward with emotional problems would encourage the kinds of changes you're trying to cause."
Cadence sighed and shook her head. She was smiling, but it didn't seem like a particularly helpful smile. "You really are a lot like Twilight."
"... In what sense?"
"You're both devastatingly brilliant, but you're still teenagers, ones convinced that your relationships are the most important things in the world."
Sugarcoat felt her eyebrows rise. "She's having trouble with Sunset?"
"Don't go getting your hopes up." Cadence started drumming her fingers against her desk.
Sugarcoat winced. "I... I have something else to apologize for."
"Moondancer probably would've reacted the same way. I am a bit concerned about the two of you effectively picking up each other on the rebound, but you seem to have been handling yourselves well. Now, I don't mean to imply your relationship is unimportant."
Despite just doing so. Sugarcoat's fists clenched until her oversized fingernails nearly drew blood, but she managed to keep the comment to herself.
"It is," Cadence continued. "But you don't need to go running to the 'Principal of Love' every time you commit a faux pas. I'm going to tell you what I've told Twilight: One misstep isn't going to drive her away. You're brilliant. You can certainly learn from your mistakes."
"In theory, yes." Sugarcoat chewed her lip, her gut twisting with anxiety. "I didn't express myself clearly earlier. I'm not concerned about Moondancer, I'm concerned for her."
"How so?"
Sugarcoat looked down at her wringing hands. "She was growing more comfortable with physical contact over the summer. An arm over her shoulders, holding hands... but now even an attempt at a touch is enough to make her flinch."
"Well, it may not be a magical solution, but I can give you some advice."
Sugarcoat's head whipped up at the offer. "What?"
Cadence gave what Sugarcoat had to assure herself wasn't meant to be a patronizing smile. "Talk to her. Tell her how you feel, how you've noticed this, and how you want to make sure she's still comfortable with physical intimacy."
That got a wince. "You didn't have to phrase it like that."
"That's what it is," the principal said with a shrug. "And holding hands may be exactly as embarrassing to her as what you're thinking about is to you."
Another wince. "Point made."
"Good." Cadence's smile became the beatific one she slapped on for most school events. "Now, with all due love and respect, please get out of my office."
Changes or no, there was only one way a Crystal Prep student could respond to that. "Yes, Principal Cadence."
Sugarcoat stepped out of the office with a head full of unanswered questions, enough that it took the other person on the third floor landing to gasp before she even registered her presence. She couldn't help but give an honest response. To her delight and relief, it was a smile. "Moondancer."
"Oh. Uh. Hi." Moon fidgeted, slipping her hands in her blazer pockets and back out, looking everywhere but at Sugarcoat.
"What's wrong?" Sugarcoat took a step closer.
Moondancer practically leapt back. "Nothing's wrong! Who said anything was wrong?" She tried to smile and at least managed to bare her teeth.
"You're clearly more anxious than usual, seeing me is causing you visible distress, and everything I'm saying is just making it worse." Sugarcoat drooped as she made that last observation.
"No, no, Sugar, it's fine." Moon came closer, though still out of arm's reach. Her attempt at a smile did at least lose a little of the raw, animal fear. "It's not you, it's me."
"That did nothing to help my own dwindling confidence." Sugarcoat raised an eyebrow. "Why are you up here, anyway?"
Moon jumped as though struck. "W-well, why are you here?"
"I tried to talk to Principal Cadence about... us." Sugarcoat's eyes narrowed. "Your turn."
"It's, uh, it's funny you should ask that, because..." With a flash of light and a puff of smoke, Moondancer vanished. Judging by the sound of rushing footsteps coming from below, it was easy to guess to where she'd teleported.
As Sugarcoat watched the smoke dissipate, a thought came to mind and slipped out her mouth before she could even think to stop it. "This is becoming a pattern."
Sugarcoat didn't wallow in despair, because the world certainly wasn't going to wait for her to get over herself. Principal Cadence did have a point; Sugarcoat was being a teenager about the whole thing, and while emotionally it still felt like making Moondancer feel better was on par with Sunset making sure the universe didn't dissolve into stray photons, intellectually, she knew it was only about half as important.
Okay, maybe not from a purely intellectual standpoint, but she was only human. And trace amounts of earth pony.
The point was that she was able to wait out the motorcycle ride home—she lived close enough and had a good enough relationship with her parents that she didn't feel the need to board at Crystal Prep—plus a whole five minutes on top of that before sending Moondancer a text asking if she wanted a talk. And a private message on Disqourse. And... nothing else, because she knew bombarding Moon with a dozen different electronic notifications would neither prompt a reply nor undo the knot in her own guts.
So Sugarcoat did her homework, took a walk around her neighborhood, picked up what few bits of her room were out of order, and never once looked at her phone.
She did listen for the notification chime. And check to see if the connection was stable so many times that she managed to annoy even the limited sentience her magic granted the device.
Dinner was a lonely affair; just Sugarcoat in an enormous kitchen where the quality of the appliances was matched only by how little use most saw. Her parents were both out on business and would be for the rest of the week. The thought brought to mind an image of Lemon Zest waggling her eyebrows, a single entendre on her smirking lips.
Sugarcoat snarled, only to sigh a moment later. "I'm a mess." Given her friends, she was in good company in that regard, but it was still true.
The fact that she had her phone in her hands almost before the notification for the text sounded only emphasized the point.
Moondancer now
Sorry. I'm fine. See you tomorrow.
Sugarcoat stared at the notification long past the point when the screen should have gone dark. She ordered it to remain lit until she could decipher the message.
Was Moondancer just apologizing for the delay, or for something else?
How fine was fine?
Why didn't she want to talk any more tonight?
Since when did she use emojis?
Eventually, a gentle suggestion brought Sugarcoat's eyes to the phone's single digit battery percentage. She groaned and relented, only to wince as her eyes let her know just how little blinking she'd been doing lately. By the time she recovered enough to open them again, the rest of her dinner had gone cold.
"She's right. I'm in no shape to talk to anyone right now. Except myself, apparently."
"Well maybe you should do something about that," she said in response.
Entirely logical. "Maybe I should."
She trudged to her room, gave her hair the most cursory brushing she could allow herself, and fell asleep almost before her head hit the pillow.
The next day, Sugarcoat beat her alarm by twenty minutes, but did not race through her morning routine. She was anxious, yes. She recognized that anxiety, but would not let it rule her. She was better than that. Moondancer deserved better than that.
That said, twenty minutes was twenty minutes, and so she did have to wait a few moments after arriving for Ms. Hedges, the Crystal Prep groundskeeper, to unlock the school.
Regardless, Sugarcoat ensured she was the mistress of her emotions and not the other way around. She had paid no heed to her phone with any of her senses since last night, and planned on a calm, collected conversation with Moondancer whenever she next happened to see her.
Getting grabbed from behind while opening her locker was, needless to say, not part of that plan. After a brief moment of panic, she recognized the hug for what it was, rolled her eyes, and said, "Good morning, Lemon Zest."
"Morning, Sugar! Though now I'm wondering if I should be jealous."
The panic returned. That had not been Lemon Zest's voice. That had not been Lemon Zest's voice at all. Sugarcoat looked behind haltingly, fighting against fear of what she'd see.
Moondancer smiled back, her hair loose, her smile the confident one that usually only came out after especially devilish final exams. She kissed Sugarcoat on the nose and waved as she departed. "See you third period!"
A lump of ice found its way into Sugarcoat's gut as she watched her girlfriend all but prance away. "What."