(A/N: Hello again, welcome to the third story of this serie. I am sorry it takes so long but life is sometimes hard.
To remind, the next two stories will be mature rated. I will make a blog to tell when I put up a new post. In case you do not view mature stories.
This one will just be regular though.
I Am Not a Proud Pony
But This One I Am Proud Of)

Three’s a Crowd
By NotProud

My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic and all non-original characters are owned by Hasbro and Lauren Faust. No copyright infringement is intended. If you paid money to read this, please report whomever you paid to the law enforcement of your country!

One minute, you were standing outside school chatting with your girlfriend, Scootaloo. The end of the term is arriving and it is getting colder so she does not have to practice track as much, nor do you have as much football, and this means you have more after school time together.
Then the next minute she said “Bye!” and was off down the road. It happened so fast you are not sure exactly what happened. But what you do remember is that she got on a motorcycle. And also on that motorcycle was another person, with spiked-up blue hair and a leather jacket.
A guy.

The next day, the same thing happens, only you don’t even get a chance to talk to her. She’s heading out of school property on the motorcycle as you come out of the building, and you are beginning to feel lost.
The next day, she’s not at your football practice like she usually is.
You can’t find her after school at all by the end of the week. You feel a void creeping into your center, like you’ve never felt before. She’s just a girl, after all. A friend. A girl friend. Your girlfriend. And now that she’s not around, you’re really starting to understand just what that word means, because it’s like you don’t have one.
What are you going to do?

The only thing you can think to do is to talk to Scootaloo’s friends, who are now your friends. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle.
“Do you know who he was?” you ask them one day after school, because Scootaloo is again nowhere to be seen.
“No idea,” Apple Bloom says and shakes her head. Her pink bow bobs back and forth on her head.
“Gee Lickety too bad,” Sweetie adds, “maybe she’s got a new boyfriend. Ow!”
Apple Bloom punched her in the shoulder and now Sweetie is rubbing that shoulder.
“Shut up,” shouts Apple Bloom, “he don’t need to hear talk like that right now!”
You let Sweetie’s words sink in though. There’s now a cold feeling in the bottom of your stomach and you don’t feel so good.
“But what if it’s true?” you say. “He looked a lot older than us. What if he’s like... an old flame or something?”
Apple Bloom rolls her eyes and says, “Ah’ve known Scoot long enough that Ah know she ain’t got no old boyfriends. Ah mean, we’re only sophomores, for Celestia’s sake!”
That makes sense, but it doesn’t make you feel any better. Sweetie grins at you.
“Hey Lickety, if you’re in the market for a giiiiirlfriend, I’m sing- Ow! Dammit, Apple Bloom, at least hit the other shoulder this time!”
Apple Bloom sticks out her tongue at Sweetie, who returns it, and then they start yelling and slap-fighting. Sweetie somehow manages to get the much larger and taller Apple Bloom into a headlock and gives her a noogie right on her bow. Then they both laugh and separate, and give eachother a high-five.
You kind of stand there with your jaw hanging loose. Well, at least they distracted you from your problems for a bit. You turn and head home. Still, what the hell did you just see?
Girls.

“I dunno, man,” Rolly says to you the next day. “Maybe Sweetie Belle has a point. I mean, you see your girlfriend get on a bike with another dude... What are you supposed to think?”
“You’re not helping, man,” you grumble, then sigh. “I just want someone to tell me that I’m being stupid about this whole thing.” With a groan, your head hits the table and you bonk it against the surface a few times, groaning more.
“Hey Rolly, hey Lickety.” The voice is one you have heard before.
“Hey Scoot,” Rolly says and takes another bite of his sandwich. It’s not lunchtime yet, but he’s fat.
She clears her throat after a second. “I said, ‘Hey Lickety.”
You raise your head and look at her with blears in your eyes. “Hey Scoot.”
She frowns. “What’s with you?” She sits next to you at the table. “I wondered if maybe you wanted to go do something tonight, like bowling maybe, I dunno, but if you’re gonna be all weird today...”
Thoughts roil in your brain. Should you confront her? Act like nothing happened? Sneak it into conversation later? Blow up and walk away? You’re about ready to slam your head into the table again when Rolly jabs you in the side with his elbow. You glance over and see him look at out of the corner of his eyeballs. When he catches your eye he lifts his head slightly up. It’s like he read your mind. You take a deep breath.
“Sorry, Scootaloo,” you say slow. “I’m acting weird because... Who was that guy you were with yesterday?”
She seems surprised. “Oh, Rumble? Don’t worry about him.” She laughs. “We go way back.”
Somehow that does not make you feel any better. “Oh. Where’d you go?”
Her smile fades. “If it’s okay, I’ll tell you later. How about that bowling?”
“All right, sure,” you say and you force yourself to smile like everything’s okay. “That sounds fun.” Deep inside, it’s only getting worse.
We go way back, she said. Sweetie was right. And yeah, it’s possible that she’s not actually sneaking off to see him behind your back, but if not, then what is she doing? Why the secrecy all of the sudden? It’s not making you feel any better. Your suspicions are beginning to grow and smother you like a wool blanket. You have a sudden feel of drowning beneath a sea of iron weights.
“Well,” she says and snaps you could of it, “I guess I’d better get to class. And by I, I mean we.” She smiles at you, pauses a second, and then gets up, to go off down the hall.
“She’s right, you know,” Rolly says, swallowing. “We should get to class. Also, you shouldn’t worry about that, guy, I’m sure there’s a logical explanation.”
You nod, because he has a point, but you aren’t so sure.

You considered asking your dad for advice, but somehow that idea is not appealing. You can just see him laughing his big laugh and shaking his shoulders, then dispensing some completely weird advice to you that makes no sense to anyone but him and never will. Instead, you tell him where you’re going and then go meet Scootaloo at the bowling alley, bringing along a dusty and mildewy bowling bag you got from him with his old bowling ball. It seemed like the only way to get out of the conversation with him once you’d hesitatingly started asking him about Scoot and changed your mind.
So now you’re at Fast Lanes, Ponyville’s local and only bowling alley, looking around nervously outside because you don’t see her and holding your bag in one hand and it is heavy. Maybe she’s inside? You go in.
Inside, it’s dark but well lit. There is mist in the air from people who smoke too much. The carpeting and walls are brightly colored with lots of weird designs on them. The place seems very lively, as most of the lanes are in use right now, and you hope that there will be one free when you and Scootaloo are ready to play. You look around, but don’t see any sign of her. So you settle down on a hard plastic bench to one side and wait.
And wait.
And wait some more.
Looking up at the clock, you see that half an hour has passed already, and still no sign of your date. Your stomach twists.
“What’s the matter, kid?” asks Mister Strike, the owner of the bowling alley. “Never seen someone come in and just sit, looking sad.”
“I look sad?” you ask. “Uh, I mean, have you seen a girl, about my age, with purple hair and a fake leg?”
Mister Strike puts a hand on his chin and hums. “Hmm. Can’t say I have tonight. Why, you two supposed to meet for a date?”
You nod. He chuckles.
“Son, sometimes things aren’t gonna go your way. Good luck finding her, though.”
Well that’s just great. Now how are you supposed to feel.
“Hey kid!” you hear a deep voice say across the alley.
You look up and see three men approaching. The one in front is tall and fat and wearing sunglasses and his beard is thin and goes around his cheeks but missed his chin, instead both sides curl up into a moustache. He wears a tan vest. The one next to him has long, blonde hair and beard and is wearing a loose grey sweater and shorts. The third one is thin and weedy and his eyes are shifty and his shirt is red. It’s the big one who spoke to you. You swallow and shift in your hair chair. It looks like you just ran afoul of one of Ponyville’s notorious bowling gangs.
“Did I hear you say you were looking for a girl, about your age, with purple hair and one leg?” the big, bearded man asks.
You nod because you cannot think of anything to say. The big man smiles, and it looks strange on him. You did not expect him to smile.
“You must be Lickety Split then. She asked me to tell you that she had to leave right after she got here. Said it was something important, and that she’d be pretty late, so you could get started without her.”
Your eyes go wide. “Um, mister...”
“Just call me Walter.”
“Walter, how did she leave?”
The thin one says, “She took off on a motorcycle with an older guy. He was wearing a leather jacket.”
Rumble!
“Sir, if you could, please let her know that I got tired of waiting.” You say it as softly as you can, but inside you are really mad. She took off and just left you here with all these weird people! And for what? With that stupid Rumble guy. That tears it. You stand and pick up your bag and head for the door.
Behind you, the guy with the blonde hair mutters, “Dude!”

It’s a very long walk home with a very heavy bag. The sky grows dark and Luna raises the moon before you make it there. What a crap.
Even though it’s autumn, the air is slightly sticky and you’re covered in sweat by the time you make it home, and neither of that isn’t helping your mood. You toss the door open and stomp inside and let the bowling ball in the bag thump onto the kitchen floor. It probably makes a dent in the lino, but you don’t stop to check.
“Well,” says your dad from the other room without even looking, “sounds like you didn’t have all that great a time!”
“No.” You can’t help the hurt in your voice, it’s true.
“Wanna talk, mah boy?” he says. The weird phrase is kind of not appropriate for the moment, but somehow it also makes you reconsider not talking to him the last time. “Girl problems?”
“You can say that.”
You unload, as they say, your woes upon your father and he sits back and nods and goes, “Hmm,” sometimes and scratches at his beard, which is kind of short and scraggly because he’s started growing it in recently. You tell him about Rumble and Scootaloo disappearing and how you’ve been feeling about it all, which is badly. And then you get to tonight and the message from the bowling gang and now you’re not even sure you want to date her anymore because it seems like she’s got better things to do than go stupid bowling with you and who wants to go bowling anyways, it’s dumb.
As you catch your breath, your father nods in a sequentially more ponderous manner and finally he says, “Lickety, mah boi,” and you know it is time for that weird lecture you avoided earlier.
“Lickety, mah boi, the secret to every successful relationship is communication.”
Your eyes are closed. You wait a second. There’s nothing else coming, what the heck?
“And...?”
Your dad laughs. “And you need to communicate. You’ve got every right to feel bad about what’s going on, and what she said to you didn’t do anything to make you feel better. So now you have to do something about, and deciding to give up when you don’t know all the facts isn’t the mature way to go about things.” He nods. “Talk to her, boy. Find out what’s going on. Let her know that she can’t keep you in the dark forever. Above all else,” he holds up a finger, “ don’t say anything you’ll regret later.”
You nod, if only so you can excuse yourself and go up to your room, where you want to be alone right now. That was a lot of words, it’s hard to think, and somehow you’re not sure if this whole deal is every going to be solved. Maybe if you rest on it, your dad’s words will make sense later.

It’s later, and you’re not sure you’re ready for this, or that those words make any sense. You’ve gone over the conversation a hundred times in your head, and every time, it ends up with you two calling it quits in one way or another. The good side is you find out you don’t actually want to break up with Scootaloo. But the bad side, you are pretty sure it’s going to happen now. So you take a deep breath and march your butt into school to confront the inevitable.
You find her, as usual, chatting with her friends in the lunchroom before the first bell. Scootaloo reacts immediately, frowning.
“Hey, you jerk, what’s with ditching me at the bowling alley last night?”
“You ditched me first for your new boyfriend.” It comes out before you even have a chance to think. You wince like someone stabbed you with pain. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Apple Bloom get up and grab her things.
“C’mon, Sweetie,” she says quietly, “Ah think they might wanna be alone for a bit.”
Sweetie purses her lips and goes, “Ooooh,” then grabs her stuff and follows Apple Bloom off to their first period class.
“Lickety, that’s not fair.” Scoot looks honestly hurt and you feel guilty.
You try again. “Okay, sorry, that’s not what I wanted to say.” You take a deep breath. “What I wanted to say was, who is that guy, and will you please tell me why you keep disappearing with him?”
“I told you, his name’s Rumble, I’ve known him a long time.” She crosses her arms over her chest and frowns. “What’s this about, anyway?”
“Just let me finish, please.” You hold your hands up. “Scoot, you told me that already, but it doesn’t tell me anything. You go way back. Okay. Did you date or something? Are you just friends? Are you maybe related and I’m just being stupid?”
Scoot huffs and looks away from you. “Look, I don’t want to talk about this right now.”
“Well I do!” Your voice raises and you think about how your dad said you have a right to be upset, so you let it show through. “Scoot, I’ve got no idea what you’re doing, and too all intensive purposes, it looks like you’re just running off with another guy to do who knows what while I’m here all by myself. Can you maybe see from my view how that might be upsetting?”
You let your words sink in. Her eyes slowly widen as she thinks about them. “Oh.”
“Yeah. So I’m kind of upset because it looks like my girlfriend is running out on me. So can you please tell me what’s going on?” You bite your lip, and say more softly, “I mean, we should be able to talk about anything, right?”
“Yeah.” She sighs and nods. “You’re right. Okay.” She looks right into your eyes and you’re taken back her intenseness. “Here’s the truth. Rumble is a friend of the family. He’s like a brother to me. His older brother Thunderlane used to babysit us when we were kids, and he’s like a brother to me, too. He got in a really bad plane crash and he’s been in the hospital in a coma for weeks.”
You suddenly feel sick to your stomach. How could you have accused her when that was the truth? Even if you had no reason to suspect it.
She goes on. “Rumble’s been picking me up after school so I can see him and be there with his family. They asked me to.” She hugs herself. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I thought it was my problem, and you wouldn’t care, or if things went bad, that you wouldn’t want to hear about it.”
You reach over and put your hand on hers. “Of course I’d care! I mean... I care.” Your cheeks get hot. “Really.”
She laughs softly and sniffs. “I guess you do, since you got jealous about Rumble.”
Jealous. That’s the word that you’ve been looking for this whole time. It perfectly describes everything that you’ve been feeling. It’s an awful, sickening word, and you’re glad you can finally be rid of it.
“Yeah. I mean, he’s older, and they always say that girls go for older guys.” You laugh a little. “But he’s also got that motorcycle. And I know how much you like speed.” You frown. “I can’t really compete with that.”
“Well, you don’t have to,” says a voice, and you look up to see that it’s Rumble. He’s wearing aviator glasses and standing with his motorcycle helmet under his arm. You kind of feel a bolt like lightning pass through you and you can’t take your eyes off him, as though he might bite you if you did.
“Hey Scootie,” he says.
Scootie? Really?
“Thunder just woke up this morning. I came to see if you wanted to skip out and say hi to him.”
Scootaloo’s eyes light up. You’ve never seen her happier. “Oh man, that is so awesome! Is he all right?”
“Yeah! Doctors say he’ll make a full recovery, once his bones heal up.”
She looks at you, her face full of delight. Then she pauses and frowns, eyes glancing to you. “I don’t think he’d want me skipping school just to see him. I’ll come afterward, okay?”
“All right. That’s probably a good choice.” Rumble grins. “Who’s your friend here?”
“Lickety Split,” you stammer, and hold out your hand. He shakes. His grip is not very strong.
“He’s my... boyfriend.” she mumbles and blushes. Rumble laughs.
“Hey, honey?” calls another voice from the doorway. “There’s a cop outside saying you can’t leave your bike in the school parking lot.”
A guy comes in, wearing leather chaps with fringes and a tight pink tube top. His blond hair is done up in a weird forward wave. He steps next to Rumble and kisses him on the cheek. Your jaw drops.
Rumble says, “We’re just about to head out. Go keep him busy, Luke, I’ll be right behind you.”
Luke slaps Rumble on the butt and then saunters back out the door. Rumble nods to you and puts his helmet on.
“Lickety, nice meeting you. It might be awkward, but you can always come with Scootie if you want.”
You look at her. “Actually, I think I’ll wait for a better time and let her go. She’s family, after all.”
Scootaloo smiles. Rumble waves and heads out the door. You wait one nanosecond after he’s out of earshot before yelling, “He’s gay?”
“Uh, yeah.”
You collapse backward in your chair like a deflated balloon. “If you’d told me that, none of this would have happened.”
She laughs. “Now do you feel silly for getting jealous?”
“Yes. Very.” You sit up and take both of her hands. “I’m sorry I got jealous and accused you of stuff you didn’t do.”
She smiles and gazes into your eyes. “I’m sorry I kept you in the dark. You’re right that we should be able to talk about this stuff.”
A purple and pink head of hair slowly rises from the edge of the table.
“Now kissssssss!”
You both scream and jump back, and Sweetie Belle grins at you with a trollface.
“Sweetie, I swear to Celestia, I will kick your ass with my good leg!”
Sweetie laughs and runs off, and you both laugh too. You wait until she’s out of sight before kissing. You feel all your tension and anger melt away into Scoot’s mouth, and you don’t care if anyone else is watching.
“Thanks for caring, Lick.”
“Thanks for understanding, Scootie.”
Her eyes flash with madness. “Why you! Don’t think I won’t kick your butt either, just because you’re my boyfriend!”
You laugh and grab your bag and dash off down the hallway, Scootaloo hot on your tail. You make it to class just before the late bell rings.

A Date With Scootaloo

by NotProud

Three's a Crowd