I'm guessing it's probably not great news when you have one customer for breakfast.
It's probably slightly worse news when your one customer appears (very obviously) to be an undercover reporter keeping an eye on the place across the street. He was wearing an actual trench coat and holding up a newspaper to obscure his face, only occasionally peeking over the top and never turning the page.
I suppose it's possible he was just a slow reader, but something about the way he squinted and twitched his bristly mustache made me think otherwise.
"Go on, now." Applejack gave me a condescending pat on the head as she whispered into my ear.
I rolled my eyes. "I am not taking that guy's order. He hasn't even touched the coffee!"
"Hate to break it to ya, Twi: but yes, you are," Applejack said softly. She smirked at me. "It is--quite literally--your job."
"Yeah." I scoffed. "Which I'm not being paid for."
"Yeah, and--" Applejack took me by the shoulders and steered me to the order window. "--I ain't gettin' paid, either, if you don't get his order. Coffee's on the house."
We stared out the order window at the stallion for a moment. As we watched, he curled his newspaper downward, bushy eyebrows nearly obscuring his glare.
A pair of binoculars and that dude would be set.
"Ugh. Fine."
"There's my little employee," Applejack said, beaming with fake pride. "Doin' the bare minimum with only moderate micromanaging."
I didn't grace that with a reply.
The stallion at the table didn't bother to put down his newspaper as I approached. He didn't even try to hide the fact that he was sloppily snooping on who-knows-what.
I cleared my throat.
He didn't even blink.
"Uh… sir?" I leaned forward over the table, painting on my best and brightest customer-service smile. "What can I get you today?"
The stallion turned his gaze to me. It was less intimidating than he was likely imagining. "Nothing. Coffee's plenty."
I looked back over my shoulder towards the kitchen.
Applejack was looking back at me, eyebrows raised, doing a much better job of snooping and intimidating.
I sighed. "Sir?"
"Hm?"
"You have to buy something," I said. "I-if you wanna sit."
His caterpillar brows drew closer together. "Really?"
I nodded. "Really."
He held his gaze with me a moment longer, then rustled his newspaper and hid behind it once again. "Bagel and eggs. Toasted and over-easy, respectfully."
Though I wanted to smack him for what had to be the most pompous diner order ever, I just took a deep breath and widened my grin. "Sure thing. Coming right up!"
He didn't say a thing.
Suddenly feeling embarrassed for reasons beyond my understanding, I tucked my head and trotted back to the kitchen.
Applejack was already rooting through the fridge. "Well, look at you!" She laughed, spun, and kicked the fridge closed with a back hoof. "You sure waitressing ain't your special talent?"
"Oh, shut it."
All Applejack did was chuckle good-naturedly as she deposited a carton of eggs beside the griddle.
I came to stand beside her, ready-but-not-really for today's fry cook training session. There was a strange air of apprenticeship to the whole thing; In fact, I liked to imagine, while I sweat and chopped and toiled over the griddle, that I was actually learning… I dunno. Smithing? That's the thing with the anvil and the hammers, right?
Applejack nodded to the egg carton. "Crack two for me. And keep the yolks intact."
I nodded, lifting an egg and beginning to tap it delicately on the edge of the counter.
Though she had moved beyond verbal corrections, I could sense Applejack's displeasure with my egg-cracking technique. I did my best to ignore her.
"So." Applejack made a show of whipping the spatula from her collection of kitchen utensils. It made a bright, metallic sound, not unlike a sword. "Have you decided what you're doing for Summer Sun yet?"
The delicacy of my egg-cracking operation was ruined with one brutal smash, and the yolk dropped onto the floor.
Applejack must have worked hard not to comment on that.
"Uh. N-no," I replied. I grabbed a rag as Applejack waited patiently for me to clean up my mess. "I mean, I don't exactly care, y'know?"
Applejack scoffed. "You? Not caring?" She whistled. "That'll be the day."
I looked up at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Would you clean that up, already?" Applejack said, nodding to the egg.
"You didn't answer my question."
Applejack heaved a great sigh and turned her gaze to the ceiling. "Twilight, you care about damn near everything." She chuckled. She was doing that more as time went on. "I know you got opinions."
Of course I had opinions.
I had nothing but opinions. When it came to Summer Sun, I was very nearly incapable of seeing things objectively.
"Nope," I lied, chucking the egg-soaked rag into the sink. "No opinion."
"Right, right." Applejack visibly suppressed her laughter. "Sure."
That was something I was starting to learn about Applejack. I guess, when I'd first met her and talked to her, I'd gotten the feeling that she was frequently laughing at me.
I mean, she laughed. She laughed pretty often, in all honesty. But I'd assumed she was laughing at me as some sort of private joke; like she thought of me as some sort of pitiable charity case, and therefore figured I'd never understand that she was laughing at me at me.
Applejack laughed a lot, but it was never ingenuine. It was never secretive. It never had another, hidden, derogatory layer. She just laughed when she thought things were funny.
I don't think I've ever met somepony--before or since--who laughed like that.
"Look here, Twi." Applejack held up an egg, then smacked it against the counter in one swift motion.
I watched quietly as she dropped it onto the griddle.
"See?" She tossed the shells into a trash can. "Just one crack. Right on the flat bit."
I furrowed my brows. "I… don't think that's right."
Applejack stuck out her bottom lip and gave me a steely glare. "Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. You really wanna correct the cook?"
I pinned my ears back. "No."
"Thought not." Applejack gave an amused snort. That meant things were alright. "Give it a try."
In my magic, I lifted another egg and mimicked Applejack's motion against the counter. To my disappointment, it smashed completely, and another yolk was demolished.
Applejack threw her head back and laughed. "Maybe a little gentler next time, huh?"
I snuck in a nervous little giggle. "Maybe I should practice on oranges."
"Ha!" Applejack punched me lightly on the shoulder. Of course, she was a good head taller than me, so I teetered like a nudged bowling pin. "Oranges. Good one, Twilight."
It wasn't all that funny, but I snickered anyway. It felt good to get honest laughter out of Applejack.
She sighed in satisfaction. "You know we only got a few more days."
I blinked. "Until?"
"Summer Sun."
"Ugh." I hung my head. "I know."
Applejack cast a glance my way. "Don't seem like it to me."
At this point, I was starting to hate any mention of the festival out of principle. Why did so many ponies give even one shit about it?
But, even though I may have thought the whole thing to be a stupid waste of time, I had to admit it had hurt a little when I got the letter.
I guess, up until the letter, I had options. But, now, those options were shrinking.
As much as I didn't want to talk about it, I did sort of feel like I owed Applejack the truth on this. Why I felt that way, I'll probably never know.
"Well…" I paused, then sighed deeply. "My brother sent me a letter."
Applejack was visibly confused. She pulled a knife out of the knife block and laid it on the counter. "Okay."
"I mean, I-- I like my brother," I said, even as Applejack wandered across the kitchen and towards the back of the bagel case.
She laughed once, a dry and husky sound. "Okay?"
"I just mean… well, I was happy to get his letter. Y'know?"
"Get to the point, Twi," Applejack muttered.
She swung open the bagel case and selected a plain one from the bottom shelf. She had a funny way of swishing her tail as she did.
I rolled my eyes, even though she couldn't see."I guess he was hoping I'd come back to Canterlot for the festival."
"Mm-hm." Applejack closed the case. And began to wander back in my direction.
"But apparently he's stationed in some little town out west?" I scratched my temple with one hoof. "He's bringing our parents. Apparently they really do it up there."
Applejack began to saw away at the bagel with her bread knife. "What town?"
"Uh…" I tapped my chin with one hoof. "Ponyville, I think?"
She paused.
It was minute-- hardly noticeable, really. Almost as if she'd struck a surprise raisin in the bagel, and needed a bit extra force to get through it.
Before I could ask whether she knew it, she was back to sawing. "Whaddya mean 'stationed'?"
"Oh--" I shook my head a bit. "He's in the royal guard."
"Why would the royal guard be stationed someplace like Ponyville?" She was almost angry. She finished cutting through the bagel with a final, violent swipe.
I flinched a little. "I-I dunno."
"Does your brother know?" Applejack tossed the bagel slices face-down on the griddle.
I stuttered a bit. "P-probably not. He's not exactly high-ranking, I mean--"
"Well, don't you think that's kinda weird?" Applejack put her knife down on the counter, maybe with slightly more force than she should have.
I blinked.
I was having a very hard time keeping up with this conversation.
"Uh… I guess?" I cleared my throat. "I dunno."
Applejack didn't say anything. She looked… well, not angry, exactly. More just a focused kind of stress. She wasn't looking at me anymore, just staring down at the bagels as they sizzled.
I watched for a moment, too. I clearly didn't see what Applejack saw in them.
"Princess Celestia pulls this sort of garbage with the royal guard constantly," I said, as if I were trying to apologise. "Always sending them out for weird missions, training them for utter bullshit they should never need."
At last, Applejack looked at me. "And that's not weird?"
I shrugged. "Guess I'm just used to it."
A smirk curled on her lips once more. "Not a fan of the princess, huh?"
It was my turn to laugh dryly at that. "Not exactly."
To her credit, Applejack still wasn't asking follow-up questions. I think she knew she stood a solid fifty-fifty of getting an emotional do or a total shutdown, and she pretty much wanted neither.
To my credit, I had stopped waiting for her to ask.
"I mean, she was the one who…" Who what? Who ruined you? Your future? Your chances of fulfilling your destiny? "It was her school I didn't get into."
Applejack nodded. "I see."
"And for such a stupid reason, too!" I continued. It was amazing how quickly I could get myself fired up, to be honest. "I could have aced an exam on magical theory, but I just-- I can't do this insane magical task and so I'm doomed to--"
"You best flip those eggs," Applejack said, coolly passing me a spatula.
I looked back at the griddle. There may or may not have been smoke rising. "Oh, shit!"
I snatched the spatula away from Applejack and managed to pry up the eggs. They looked… well, they looked how eggs usually look when I make them. Which was probably fine.
Not great. But fine.
Applejack didn't comment at all as I struggled to turn them over without breaking the yolks-- a step I never cared to follow for my own sake. I figured that meant I was doing alright.
I sighed as the second egg hit the griddle with a sizzle. "Anyway. It's just a dumb grudge."
"No, no." Applejack shook her head. "That sounds-- I mean. I'd hate her, too."
I looked over at her. "You would?"
She made a face I couldn't quite identify. It reminded me of asking an unqualified uncle for advice. "Yeah, well. I ain't exactly immune to grudges myself." She scoffed. "Particularly the dumb kind."
"Really?" I shot Applejack my most sarcastic glare. "I never would have guessed."
She chuckled. "Yeah, yeah…"
I watched the eggs. Applejack would say something when they were done, right?
Applejack flipped the bagel slices off the griddle and onto a plate.
"I mean… grudges are fun," I admitted.
Applejack laughed. "You got that right."
I laughed, too. "I love being petty."
"Shoot, who don't?"
We laughed. Applejack's laugh was deep and rich and honey-gold. Mine was sort of like a nervous squirrel.
The laughter faded. A comfortable silence was left in its wake.
I got the feeling the eggs were done. Applejack didn't say anything as I forced the spatula under them and gently tugged them off the griddle, so I figured I was doing something right.
It gave me a surge of bravery.
"Why do you care what I'm doing for Summer Sun?" I asked. It came out perhaps a little more timid than I had intended.
Applejack carefully considered my question, only watching the path of my spatula. "What gave you that impression?"
"C'mon, Applejack," I said with a scoff. "You ask about my plans practically every day."
She shrugged. "Just makin' conversation, Twi," she said, and it almost sounded casual. "Current events and such."
"Don't you have even one other topic of conversation?"
"Nope." No hesitation.
"Like music?"
Applejack scoffed. "I don't care what kinda music you listen to, faux-hawk."
"Oh, perfect." I rolled my eyes. "Another nickname."
She laughed at that. It felt good, y'know? Making her laugh.
I slid each fried egg onto one half of the bagel. The yolks jiggled ever so slightly, and I felt almost proud of my creation.
Applejack may not have been proud, but she sure didn't seem disappointed.
"Alright. Be right back," she said, scooping the plate off the counter and whisking it out the double doors.
I watched from the order window as she slid the plate onto the table. She did it with such grace.
Must be an earth pony thing.
"Bagel and eggs," she announced.
"Mm," the stallion replied.
Applejack didn't bother asking if he needed anything else (though she had told, in no uncertain terms, that I am required to do so), and instead trotted back to the kitchen. The double doors made a soft woosh as they settled behind her.
I leaned against the counter. "Seriously."
Applejack gave me a strange look as she breezed past me. "Seriously, what?"
"Why do you keep asking?" I asked.
At first, Applejack said nothing.
She set about putting on a pot of coffee. Without anything on the griddle, the light sound of the grounds landing in the filter was the only sound in the kitchen.
Finally, Applejack sighed. A heavy, mulling-it-over sigh, with puffed cheeks and upward-turned eyes. "Well, like I said, I'm pretty good at holding grudges."
I let a smile sneak over my face. "Uh-huh."
"And… well, it sure seems like you and I have a grudge in common," she continued. She sure was taking her time with the water.
"Summer Sun?" I guessed.
Applejack nodded. "Summer Sun."
"Okay…"
"And, seein' as we're working together," she continued, a very distinct I'm-wasting-time tone saturating ever word, "and seein' as you're not exactly as unbearable as I may have originally thought--"
"Gee, thanks."
"--I figured that you and I could maybe… enjoy our grudge together." She clicked the basket into the coffee maker. "Over alcohol."
I didn't make a s kind, just lifted my hoof to my face in a gesture of shock.
Applejack rolled her eyes. "Don't make a big deal out of--"
"You're inviting me to your super-sad, isolated Summer Sun Celebration?" I gasped theatrically. "In your empty diner?"
Applejack growled a bit. "I wouldn't say inviting, so much as--"
"I get to drink with you?"
"Maybe you get to drink. You are underage, and I--"
"Are we gonna stare out the window silently and contemplate city life?"
"Oh, forget it!" Applejack made a show of her anger, though anypony with a brain could have seen through it in a second.
I snickered to myself.
Applejack shook her head. "Shouldn'ta said anything," she muttered. "Shoulda let you figure all this out for yourself."
"Mm-mm." I beamed at her. "No way, AJ-- can't get rid of me now."
"Yeah…" Applejack chuckled incredulously. "Yeah, I'm startin' to sense that."
The kitchen was quiet. Only the gentle rumble of future coffee, and the low him of the refrigerator.
Applejack liked her quiet moments. That was something I was noticing, too. In those moments, when she needed to softly soak up the lingering energy in the room, I could still she the other her.
It was all in my head, of course. Just a silly association I'd managed to invent. But it did seem right, in a way; napping in the dappled sunlight, a stetson tilted down over her eyes, the wind in her long, blonde mane.
Let go, she seemed to murmur. I promise you'll be safe.
And I did feel safe.
"I guess this means we're both real rebels, now," I said.
Applejack raised her eyebrows. "Say again?"
"What you said. How real rebels do things, and city rebels don't," I reminded her. "Looks like we're both doing, aren't we?"
Applejack chuckled lightly. "I told you, Twi: I ain't tryin' t'be a rebel. I'm just livin' my life the way I see fit."
"Hm." I nodded. "Maybe that's the most genuine rebellion of them all."
Applejack looked at me. As she did, her brows slowly knit together.
I stared back at her, attempting to remain impassive.
"That's the stupidest thing you've said so far."
I spluttered something incoherent. "What?! That's--"
"Who do you think you are, exactly?" Applejack shot back, her face breaking into a massive grin. "You writin' the next great Equestrian novel in the back of that van?"
I clucked my tongue. "Oh, what do you know? Maybe that's my special talent."