Spike entered the schoolhouse and took a brief survey of his surroundings. The walls were loose and creaked while the paint chipped away around the windows. There was a fresh green trim around the exposed woodwork, and a teal counter followed the three walls opposite the front of the classroom. In some places, he could make out small inlets for books and other classroom supplies. Near one such shelf, in the very back corner of the large room, sat the only other occupant of the schoolhouse. She was an orange-colored filly just about his age. On her desk sat a book and one of her hooves, lightly tapping the surface to a rhythm he couldn't catch. Her other hoof supported her cheek, on which rested an immensely bored expression. Spike waited for her to acknowledge him, hoping to ask her where he should sit, but she did not look up. A glance back out the door failed to show the teacher so the drake simply walked back to the center of the room, looked between two of the empty desks there, and clambered up into the seat.
Several minutes passed before he heard the beat pause, a page flip, and the beat resume. It wasn't until another such interval went by that Spike turned to her and noticed, for the first time, the rather small wings at her side. For a moment, he considered asking whether he'd shown up to a younger class on accident until the filly ceased tapping on the desk. Her hoof ran through her purple bangs and swept them out of the way as she met his gaze. "I know a unicorn or two if you want a levisketch made; it'd probably last longer." Halfway through her remark, Spike saw a shift in her expression. Her eyebrows rose in surprise as she looked him over from spines to scute.
"Sorry," he apologized, "I just wanted to ask if the teacher was late."
The filly returned to her book as she said, "No, class doesn't start till half-past eight." She flipped the page and added, "You're early, dude."
Spike glanced at the clock. His curiosity got the better of him as he turned back to the filly and asked "Why are you here, then?"
She just shrugged and flipped another page.
The drake leaned closer and tried to get a peek at the contents of her book. She placed her hoof on the page, blocking his view.
"Is that for class?"
"No," she answered, closing the cover and sliding it into her saddlebag.
"What is it for?" Spike asked.
The filly rested her chin on the desk and responded "Miss Cheerilee thought I would like it."
Spike waited a moment before he asked "Do you?"
She merely shrugged again and turned her face away from him, refusing to comment further. Dejected, Spike hopped down and moved up a row in the seats.
No sooner than he had sat down did he notice the form of a mare approaching down the road outside. Behind her followed two colts, one lanky and the other rather squat. She seemed to be saying something to them until she neared the door.
The mare entered the building and smiled at him. "Goodmorning, Spike. I see you've met Scootaloo already," he glanced back at the filly before hearing something slap against the teacher's desk as she spoke again, "this is Snips and Snails, two more of your classmates." The pair collected notebooks from where Miss Cheerilee had set them down and lumbered to their desks.
"Hello, Miss Cheerilee." The drake answered back. He watched as she dug around in a drawer and started to approach him with two notebooks clutched to her chest. She placed one on his chosen desk and continued past him to set the other in front front of the filly behind him. He flipped over the cover and skimmed the pages. A moment later, he raised a claw and began to ask "Um, Miss Cheerilee, I don't have a..."
His question trailed off as she tapped the underside of his desk, drawing his attention to a quill and inkwell stashed inside.
"Oh, thank you."
Spike took the quill to claw and began to fiddle with it as he read over the material. There was a number of blanks and questions interspersed with infographics and summaries. Rolling his thumb across the edge of the booklet showed a variety of topics.
It seemed rather... trite, given the breadth of Twilight's studies. At the very least, he wasn't being required to talk to anyfoal right now. With a dap in the inkwell, Spike flipped back to the start of the notebook and started filling in some of the more recognizable answers.
Five questions and about half a minute in, the drake heard a scratching on the blackboard and looked up to see Miss Cheerilee writing down names on a portion visible from the side of curtain.
"Okay class," the teacher hollered for the others' attention, "we're still waiting on a few ponies, but how about we start pairing off and learning more about eachother?"
His cheeks deepened to a crimson.