School is an obligation.
At first, that sounds obvious. Of course school is an obligation. Legally, parents have to take their children to school to get an education. Without graduating high school, it becomes very difficult to get a job and turn into a functioning member of society. Those who don’t graduate usually end up committing crimes just to get by.
Although, that’s an entirely different can of worms to get into, and I’d honestly rather not waste my two brain cells thinking about a topic I can realistically do nothing about.
But more what I'm talking about is the social aspect of high school. School is just as much about socializing as it is providing a proper education. Starting from elementary school, we’re encouraged to make friends with other people. Education isn’t nearly as much a priority then, and we’re expected to make our own little friend groups.
In middle school, the pressure to be more extroverted is still there, but so is the expectation to start caring about your education. It’s also when people start dating more and actually taking their relationships seriously. Most of the time, you’re seen as a weirdo if you aren’t dating someone. And if you reject a girl, and she cries or gets upset about it, you’re seen as a jerk. Depending on who your friends are, you might even be assumed gay.
Sure, I’ve dated a couple of times, but never because I particularly wanted to date. I didn’t dislike the girls, either—just didn’t romantically feel anything.
When I got to high school, I realized how superficial a lot of the people there were. The pressure to get educated was even stronger, and some took it really seriously. Then we’re told we should plan ahead and know what to do for our career, go to college, and that nothing we do in high school is going to pass in college. All the while, they say we’re going to miss our high school days, and that we should enjoy our youth while we can and not think too much about things.
Most friendships existed because they were convenient—you were in the same class, or had the same friends, or shared a lunch period. You likely didn’t even talk outside school. What you talked about was typically nothing with any depth—you were just talking to pass the time. If you were lucky, maybe you would go to the same college or place of work. Keeping in touch otherwise would probably be hard, and sometimes even make you wonder if there was anything to that friendship in the first place.
Education becomes an obligation.
Friendships become an obligation.
School is an obligation.
Of course, that didn't mean I wanted to be a loner, sitting in the back of the class with a scowl. Humans are social creatures, and I didn’t hate them like most people seemed to. I had a friend group I hung out with. I was just aware that our relationships weren't genuine—we hung out with each other because we felt obligated to.
Pinkie Pie wasn’t like that.
When I'd first moved here, during my senior year of all times, she went out of her way to show me around the school and where my classes were. Not out of any obligation, but simply because she wanted to. She was sincerely nice, if a bit silly.
I expected to never really see her again after that. When I went to the library to study near the end of the day like I used to at my previous schools, she was there, waving bye to some girl who looked like she dyed her hair with mustard and ketchup. I still remember her beaming when she spotted me and literally sliding into the chair beside me.
After that, it became a kind of tradition. I always thought that studying was something that should be done at school, since that's what school is for. At home, I did my homework and chilled, not plagued by any obligations, not keeping up a façade with a friend group I didn't really know; just pure introvert vibes.
Pinkie was my first study buddy. She’s a lot smarter than her wacky personality would suggest. Any topic I thought I understood well, she did better. Even more surprising, she was fantastic at articulating her thoughts, sometimes to a scary degree.
Eventually, we started talking about topics I actually cared about. She or I would shift the topic to something like movies or video games or current events. There was no end to her vast well of knowledge when it came to just about anything. If it existed, she knew about it. Fortunately, if I didn’t, she was always willing to move it back to something I was comfortable with. Talking with her became genuinely enjoyable, one of the two things I looked forward to every week.
This had lasted my entire time at Canterlot High so far. I was honestly terrified I’d run out of things to say at some point, but that had never been an issue with her. Although we’re already in the second half of the school year, and neither of us have missed a day, I’d never felt once that we were anywhere near out of topics.
Today’s subject was metaphors.
“So, even though that’s not how it's used, it’s a double negative. Behind your back actually means in front of you. Isn’t that funny? Whoever made it must have not thought it through, but it caught on anyway!” Her voice carried a contagious pep, no matter what she was talking about. Even with the most mind-numbingly dull things to talk about it, she’d have me enthralled with her thoughts on them. On multiple occasions, I'd suggested she become a teacher or something with how entertaining her explanations could be. Every time, though, she said she already wanted to be a clown.
I couldn’t help but think that was a waste, not that I’d ever say it. If she loved throwing parties and making others smile that way, who was I to judge what she did with her life?
“Well, metaphors are just something we use to help understand abstract stuff. They don’t have to make sense on a grammatical or literal level, as long as people get what they mean. Like, for example,” I paused as I closed the book on the table in front of us that I hadn’t looked at for the past hour and casually slipped it into my backpack that hung off the chair. “Take the phrase ‘shooting fish in a barrel’. It’s used to brag that something's easy for you, but who the hell would go around about bragging how easy it is to shoot fish in a stationary barrel? Either it was completely made up, or somebody actually bragged about it and then the people who heard it kept using it as some kind of inside joke. Then it just…evolved into an actual metaphor.”
“Hmm, I never thought of that. It makes sense, though. I wonder if in philosophy they—” her entire body vibrated as her phone dinged. Without saying a word, she brought up one finger and pulled out her phone to check who had messaged her.
“Ohh… that’s nasphoo,” she whispered under her breath while raising one eyebrow.
I decided against asking what 'nasphoo' meant. Besides, it's rude to talk to someone while they’re trying to read something.
“What!” Pinkie exclaimed in a hush tone. “Sunny is dating Wally now? O-M-G, what should their ship name be? Wunny? No, that’s not very good. What about—”
For a moment, she was completely silent and still. I could count the number of times I’d seen her like that on one hand, which dredged up a blot of concern. Then, just as abruptly, she jumped out of her chair and squealed with her mouth closed. Eyes wide and face strained out of glee and visible effort to remain quiet in the library, even though there was no one here but Cheerilee, the librarian. Judging from the large headphones on her ears and the fact that she was asleep, she was doing her absolute best to pretend the outside world didn’t exist.
“Sunflower! That’s perfect! Oh, I’ve got to throw a party about this. Get a banner with the words ‘Congratulations Sunflower’ on it. Have red and green balloons, maybe? Nah, that would make it seem like a Christmas thing. I can make yellow and green work.”
“I haven’t heard you this excited since we discussed the validity of Destial. Have you been trying to get these two together for very long? I know you like to play matchmaker sometimes, but I’ve never heard of you actually getting two people to date.”
“Actually, no. I had nothing to do with this one,” she responded as she turned off her phone and slipped it back into her skirt pocket, pointing an accusing finger at me. “And don’t question my matchmaking abilities, mister! Natural romance takes time and effort and should never be forced. I just…put two people who don’t realize they liked each other yet into situations where they’ll realize it. It’s an art!”
“Mhm, I believe you. Does your boyfriend agree with your logic?”
Rarely do I see Pinkie genuinely confused. Seeing her lips pressed together and eyebrows furrow was a sight that cued more concern than her being completely silent.
“Wait, do you think I have a boyfriend? Hah!” she guffawed, her attempts to be quiet flying out the window. “Please, on my salary? And my schedule? I’ve thought about it, sure, but actually being able to find someone I can work it out with? Not a priority, not until clown college. At least there, I know I can find someone with the same sense of humor as me.”
Out of all the things she’d ever said, that was what shocked me the most. From the moment I'd met her, I'd just assumed she had one with how much of a social butterfly she was. I guess that made me an ass for assuming like that.
“Huh.”
“What, did you think that just because I’m friends with a bunch of people, that I have a boyfriend? Wow, I’m sure your girlfriend appreciates your guessing.”
Now it was my turn to be confused. “Uhm, what?” I leaned forward into my hand, squinting. “Pinkie, I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Huh?”
“Yeah, I haven’t had a girlfriend since, like, my freshmen year, I think. I haven’t dated since.”
Her hands were gripping the ends of the table, on the edge of her seat like I was about to reveal who killed the butler in a murder mystery. “But I was told…” she plopped back down in her chair, awkwardly fidgeting her fingers and glancing to the side. “I know the rumor mill isn’t always reliable, but Dinky isn’t usually…” She trailed off as she looked back at me, her confusion rapidly replaced with interest. “Why not?”
“Just never found the right person, I guess. Dating is cool and all, but I don’t want to date just to date, you know? I want to be with someone I actually feel a genuine connection with, not just someone I put up with because I want to sleep with them or something.”
“Wow. That’s more of a college mindset, not a high school one. Most teenagers don’t put that much thought into it,” she noted as she mimicked my position, resting her head on her hand. “I more meant that since you have a genius matchmaker like me, why not just ask? I know you well enough to write a D&D character sheet of you. Finding a partner would be as challenging as making a stealth check as a rogue with expertise and advantage.”
Considering I only know what I do about D&D from listening to a singular podcast about it, I only just got the gist of what she was saying. Not the first time she referred to something I didn’t entirely understand, and not the last.
That’s kind of just Pinkie, though.
“Pfft, so? What if I did ask for a girlfriend? Or boyfriend, you don’t know.”
“Oh, I know. I always know. I have, like, a sexuality radar,” she joked while twirling her hair. “Either way, then you would have a girlfriend.”
I stared at her for a moment, expecting her to laugh like she usually does after a joke. Which didn’t come. I like to believe after interacting with her as much as I have, I can tell when she is joking. This time, she’s not.
“Unless you have a girl as awesome as you in mind, I don’t think it’ll work out.” I said somewhat sardonically, trying to deflect and think of a way to shift the topic to something else.
“Do you want it to be me?”
I completely froze.
My heart skipping a beat. Anything else in the library might as well not have existed, like Cheerilee wished. I stared at Pinkie wide-eyed, some part of me expecting her to crack a grin or say ‘gotcha’ or something.
Instead, she held a grim expression. No smiling, no joy practically radiating off of her, just the leftover intensity. She was waiting for my response, hanging on whatever words I said next.
Problem was, even I didn’t know what those would be.
“Pinkie,” I cautiously said, crossing my arms as my body stiffened. “Do you…want to date me?”
She didn’t respond with words, at first, glancing to the side like she didn’t want to make eye contact. “I’ve thought about it a time or two. I’m not against it. There are way worse options. You could take this as a sort of confession, if you want.”
I could say with unwavering confidence that this was the first time something she’d said had left me speechless. Bewildered me or changed my perspective on things, yes, but not speechless.
“Pinkie, I…”
“You don’t have to answer it now if you don’t want to.” She fidgeted in the chair. “I know if something goes wrong in a relationship, it’s super hard to go back to just being friends. If you don’t want to risk it, or just aren’t interested in me, I get it.”
The solemnity in her voice was beyond uncharacteristic of her, and so real it actually hurt. Did she have feelings for me, or did she just like me enough as a person that she really just wouldn’t mind dating me? The thought of dating her never even crossed my mind, though, that might be attributable to me thinking she had a boyfriend this entire time.
But now that I knew it was possible, all that thought I hadn't put into it before was coming back to bite me. I couldn’t exactly concentrate with her right in front of me, either. “I’d have to think about it, Pinkie. This isn’t something I can just answer on the spot.”
I waited in utter suspense as she looked at me, sighing with relief when she gave me the smallest of reassuring smirks.
“That’s fine. It’s Friday. You’re going to the shelter today, right?”
I nodded. I would have been impressed since I only told her that once, but this was Pinkie and her memory was terrifyingly good at times.
“Then I think we should call it a day. I’ve got to order a custom banner from my dealer and set up this party. Take all the time you need. The weekend, the rest of the month, whatever. Like I said before; romance should be natural and not forced.”
There was a hint of the energy she always had in her voice, but it wasn’t entirely there. I nodded again, like a moron who couldn’t think of a proper response, getting to my feet and slinging the backpack over my shoulder.
“See ya Monday, then.” I waved to her as I left.
“See ya.”
I now had plans for the weekend: ruminating.
_________________________
I like animals.
Like, a lot.
Since I often had more free time than I knew what to do with, I'd decided to dedicate my Fridays to the animal shelter. Not always the cleanest or most fun job, but it needs to be done and I don’t mind doing it.
As I waited for the crosswalk sign to turn green, I took a gander at my reflection in a passing window. I really should have taken better care of my hair. I usually styled it at the beginning of the week, then proceeded to let it do whatever until the beginning of the next week. Right now, it’s a bit wavy and sticks out in some places, while I preferred if it were slicked back and held together properly. The color always bothered me a bit—my dad's hair was as black as the night, while my hair was as blonde as the sun was bright.
I must have gotten it from my mom, but my dad doesn’t have any pictures of her around, so I can’t say for sure.
It paired well with my green eyes, at least, which were pretty much my only feature that stuck out. Nothing about the rest of my body was particularly prominent, except for my clothes. It was an open secret that I was a total music nerd. I didn’t talk about it often, since I hadn't found anyone other than Pinkie who was as passionate about music as I am, but I always wore some clothing that had a band or album name on it.
Like, right now, I’m wearing a dark black shirt with the lead singer of ‘In This Moment’ on it. She has easily the best female voice in heavy metal. The rest of my clothes weren’t anything conspicuous, just your typical jeans and sneakers.
As my mind drifted to music, it just as quickly moved back to Pinkie. I restarted my weekly trip to the vet, trying to figure out what I was going to do. Every single time I’d ever dated someone, they'd always asked me. The idea of dating them had never crossed my mind beforehand. We were friends, then we were partners, then we were nothing.
While that’s pretty much exactly what happened with Pinkie, I actually did like her. I don’t want to date her out of any sense of obligation. Like she said, it would be hard to be friends again afterwards. I really don’t want to mess things up with her and lose our friendship, but can things really go back to normal even now? Now that we’re aware of both of our relationship status, isn’t it kind of inevitable that one of us would develop feelings for the other?
My only points of reference for relationships were the surface-level ones people had had at school, as well as whatever melodramatic soap opera was big at the time. Neither were reliable.
In all likelihood, I’d have been conflicted about this all weekend and forced to make a choice I wasn't certain about just because I felt obligated to make one, which was the last thing I wanted to do.
I guess that makes it fortunate that this had happened today, when I’d be talking to the only person whose advice I take straight to heart.
I mentioned earlier that there were two things I looked forward to every week, Pinkie being one of them. The other was the animal shelter; not just because I like animals, but because of the living embodiment of nature that worked there.
Fluttershy was there when I started, and she’ll probably still be there when we graduate. She told me that she goes to the shelter every day after school if she can, and I believe her wholeheartedly. A lot of people have said that they’re good with animals, but Fluttershy is in her own tier. I’ve seen the most aggressive dogs, that I was convinced had rabies or something, turn into puppies in her presence.
It took quite a while before she warmed up to me. She was shy, as her name might suggest. For weeks, she barely talked, just glancing at me once or twice. One of my phases came in handy when I mentioned a random animal fact in her presence, something I only knew from binging videos about them in middle school.
We’ve been friends since.
This, too, was a genuine friendship. I say this because she could have easily kept quiet like she wanted and I wouldn’t have blamed her one bit. However, the second she knew I was interested in animals beyond just volunteering at the shelter, she became almost as chatty as Pinkie. Her shyness was gone, and she warmed up to me.
I can’t say for sure how it started, but I eventually started asking her for advice. I didn’t even realize until I did that I never did that with Pinkie. It wasn’t that I didn’t respect Pinkie’s opinion or way of thinking. It’s more like…Pinkie was someone you’d meet at a debate. She would turn even the simplest of questions or statements into a story, giving her own two cents and her thoughts and whatever I was asking advice on, eventually downhilling it into the advice I asked for in the first place.
On the other hand, Fluttershy was the best listener I’d ever met. With her nodding, noises of agreement, and pleasant smile, you'd think she was just acting, but her advice proved otherwise—she'd actually pay attention to every word, no matter how long I ranted for. The advice she gave was completely pure, occasionally using animals to make her point. She'd never make it about herself or turn it into a story or anything but give the advice I asked for.
I don’t think I could ever put into words how grateful I am for that.
“Oh, good evening, Eight! You’re a little late, I was afraid you wouldn’t show up. Fido has been missing you.”
I smiled as Fido ran up to me, a pitbull that many people were afraid of. In reality, he's the biggest sweetheart I’ve ever met. When I or Fluttershy show him affection, he’s as happy as any other dog.
“Yeah, I got caught up with a friend. Sorry.” I muttered as I pet him, looking around the back area of the shelter. “I guess we’re on dog duty today, huh? That’s fine.”
“Mhm.” Fluttershy responded as she giggled, spraying the hose in her hands at the dogs as they tried to bite into water. “How has your week been?”
“Fine, mostly. Well, until today that is. I ha—” I was cut off by a very familiar, and very spoiled, rabbit who jumped out of the yellow backpack she carried and right up to me. Extending his hands and demanding his treat that he knows I have. “And a hello to you, too, Angel.”
I reached into my backpack and pulled out a package of baby carrots I got at lunch. He took them out of my hands and immediately began eating them. He made some kind of chirping noise that I was going to choose to believe was a very perturbed "thank you."
You might think a rabbit surrounded by dogs wouldn’t have a moment to breathe, and you would be right—at first. However, whether out of fear or respect, most of the animals didn’t bother Angel, and he didn’t bother them.
“I’m sorry about him. You’re just usually so…” She pressed her lips together as she tried to find the right word. “Punctual. When things don’t go to schedule, he gets really irritated. You really shouldn’t be giving him those carrots in the first place. Angel expects consistency, and doesn’t like it when it isn’t given to him. Rabbits are really high maintenance, you know.”
“Nah, it’s alright.” I crouched down and pet him. Like the brat he is, he scowled at me and growled, but didn’t stop me. “We have a mutual understanding: I give him carrots from lunch, and he lets me pet him sometimes. It’s an equivalent exchange.”
“If you say so.” Fluttershy said as she pulled a bucket over. Balancing the hose on it to where the water is shooting straight at the dogs. “I know I’ve said it a bunch of times already, but thank you again for watching him while I was at Camp. Angel gets lonely easily, whether he admits it or not.”
He made an angry chirping noise at her. Whatever he said made her recoil like she’d been physically struck. “I don’t…well,” she receded a bit behind her long, straight hair. “I do sometimes, but I can deal with it.”
She picked him up and put him back in her backpack, the light blush on her face fading as she turned back to me. “You were saying about your day? It sounded like something went wrong. I’m here to listen, if you don’t mind.”
“Not wrong, per se. Just… complicated.” I sat on the grass as Fido went to play with his dogs’ friends. Fluttershy wore that same sleeveless white shirt and skirt, no matter how often it got dirty. Nevertheless, she managed to look beautiful, maybe even majestic in some ways. It could be her hair that she always had a little butterfly in, or her gentle posture and voice she always kept no matter what happened. Or even her round, green eyes that could never carry anything but good intent. I couldn't see Fluttershy as anything else but a natural beauty.
It was astonishing that no one had swept her off her feet yet, though not overly so. She didn’t do well with people and spent her time with animals. Hopefully, one day, the perfect guy or girl will walk in here and show her the same love she shows every animal here.
“Hey, Flutters. You’re a girl, right?” I asked with with a coy smirk.
“I certainly identify as one, yes,” she retorted with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
“Then, could you give me advice about a girl? I’m stuck on what to do.”
“Uhm…” she sat down beside me, resting her arm on her slender legs. “I can try.”
“Alright, so,” I rubbed the back of my head, trying to put my thoughts into words half as well as Pinkie could. “Let’s say, there’s someone you hang out with at the end of the week every week, right? You don’t really talk outside of that one day a week, but you enjoy each other’s company and look forward to that day at the end of each week.”
No matter what I asked for advice on, Fluttershy always listened to me with a patient smile, not saying a word and barely making a sound until I was done.
Not this time.
Her smile became a frown, but she didn’t look away or even blink. Something I said must have really caught her interest, and I’m not sure in a good way.
“Fluttershy? You ok? Freaking me out a little.”
“I’m fine. Keep going, I’m listening.”
While her voice was still soft and meek like always, there was something in there I hadn’t heard since I first started working here: apprehension.
“Alright, well, for a while, I thought she had a boyfriend, so I didn’t make a move or anything. I found out she didn’t, and she apparently thought I had a girlfriend when I don’t.”
I paused when her eyes widened, her grip on her knees tightening. Instead of saying anything, she nodded for me to keep going.
“And now…I’m thinking about dating her. I like her a lot as a person, and have no issue talking with her. However, if things go wrong, I’m worried we might not be able to just be friends again. The idea of losing her like that—“ I dropped my gaze, picturing Pinkie’s smiling face and the way she oozed exuberance in her every word. The idea of never talking to her again bothers me a lot more than I thought it would. “It makes me sad. Should I just say ‘fuck it’ and date, risking our friendship? Or reject her, even though I have a hard time imagining things can just go back to normal afterwards?”
I sat there in rigid silence, awaiting her advice. Not even the sounds of the dogs barking registered to me, only Fluttershy’s heavy breathing as I waited. After a minute passed of nothing changing, and I couldn’t stand the anticipation anymore, I glanced upward. “Flutttershy?”
Her face was beet red. I mean it was red. She looked completely flushed. Her pupils were contracted as she stared, shaking as she tried to hide behind her hair without moving her hands at all. “Oh gosh, Rarity said this might happen, but I didn’t think so soon. He doesn’t have a girlfriend? I thought he did, which is why I felt guilty, but…”
I don't think I was meant to hear what she was saying, but my ears had become attuned to her barely audible voice. Her words were like grease to the gears in my brain, finally clicking together and working. “Wait, did you…think I meant you?” I uttered.
She let go of her knees, grabbing her hair and hiding behind it so effectively a turtle would be jealous. "Did you not?”
I could hardly hear her, and yet every word banged against my eardrums like a hammer.
“I…” What was I supposed to say? Words were floating around in my mind, but I didn’t know which one to pick. It was like standing in a room full of bubbles and having to guess which one was the right one to pop when they all looked the same. “Couldn’t you do much better than me? You're beautiful, Fluttershy. Super kind too, you’re grade A wife material.”
I didn’t sound anywhere near as confident as I would have liked to. I could only watch as she laid down, plopping her back on the grass and still hiding most of her face. After a moment, she shook her head back and forth, moving her hair and letting her mouth out.
“I don’t really want someone who likes me because of my appearance, and I’m nice to everyone. It doesn’t matter if you think I could do better, which is just you selling yourself short. I—” she took in a deep breath, moving her hair away from her face and looking me in the eyes. “I like you.”
Her voice cracked and squeaked in a way that was absurdly adorable. Out of the corner of my sight, I saw Angel unzip the backpack, sticking his little head out and pointing his ears towards us as he watched, chewing on a carrot the whole time.
What was I supposed to say? I can’t tell her I was talking about Pinkie, I’d come off as a total sleazebag. The way I made it sound, I can’t really blame her for thinking I was talking about her. Do I tell Fluttershy I like her, too? I mean, she’s very easy on the eyes and is caring, like the mother I never had. I can’t say I’d be against the idea, but she really does deserve better.
“...Why?” I finally asked. “What do I have going for me? There’s no way there aren’t other guys who could give you way more. I’m not anything special.”
“You’re wrong!’ she suddenly said, louder than I’ve ever heard before. She shot up, looking me in the eyes, though still blushing profusely. “You’re easy to talk to, I can’t say that about a lot of guys. Especially not when it comes to animals. You’re nice to me, but I never feel like it's just because you want to sleep with me or anything. You’re genuinely nice, and in high school that’s hard to find in a guy. Lastly,”
She pressed her lips together as she inched closer to me. At first, I thought she was going to kiss me; something a lot more assertive than I would ever think she’d do. Instead, she placed her hand on my face. It was so gentle and soft, like she was making every effort in the world not to hurt me. Fluttershy stared deep into my eyes. "Your eyes…are very pretty. That’s the only thing I care about with physical attractiveness. Nothing else is as important.”’
For the second time today, I was left utterly speechless. This girl, this gorgeous girl who could barely hold a conversation, had just blatantly confessed to me. Even though she could easily get a guy who was way more handsome, or rich, or could just treat her better, she wanted me. And she was pushing herself to convince me that she’s fine with that.
How the hell could I say no?
But if I didn't, what would that do to Pinkie? I told her that I wasn’t interested in dating because I couldn’t find someone as awesome as her, and then left her hanging after she confessed. What if I turned around and rejected her before immediately dating some other girl? She’d probably be heartbroken, but never show it. I doubted I could ever fix our relationship then.
What about Fluttershy? She was right in front of me, forcing herself well out of her comfort zone to get her feelings across. If I said no and started dating someone else, she would think she wasn’t good enough for me and might even be worse than Pinkie afterwards. No chance of us being friends again, either. Angel would probably make my life hell.
Maybe those late night soap operas aren’t that unrealistic.
“Fluttershy, I…this is really sudden. I don’t know what to say.”
“Sudden?” she questioned, drawing her hand back. I was surprised how much I missed her touch. “But…you’re the one that brought it up!”
I nervously gulped, trying to come up with some excuse to recover from the blunder I made.
“Yeah, but, if I’m being honest, I completely expected you to reject me. I just assumed if I brought it up as a hypothetical, you’d do it subtly.”
“Oh.” she whispered. “Well, I didn’t.”
“I noticed.” I said with an awkward chuckle. “And I can’t really say I was expecting it. I don’t know what to say.”
She grabbed her backpack, absentmindedly petting Angel’s head. Curling it up and holding it to her chest. “Why not yes?”
“Because I don’t know. I don’t like making impulsive decisions like this.” I bit my lip, hating that I'd somehow ended up in the same situation twice, and had to give the same answer. “I have to think about it. I’m sorry.”
“Ok,” she squeaked out.
She stood up, leaving her backpack on the ground and walking towards the hose. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything to her for the rest of my time. It was just like when I first came here. We both did the same things we always did with the animals. I heard her talking to Angel a couple of times, but otherwise she didn’t say a word.
I also noticed that she never really stopped blushing. It simmered down a bit, but didn’t stop.
_______
When did my life turn into a teen romantic comedy?
I got home and my dad wasn’t there, which he was rarely on weekends.
I completely collapsed on my bed when I got to my room. Physically, I was fine. Mentally, I was exhausted.
On the way home, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Pinkie and Fluttershy. Just last week, everything between us was fine and how it’d always been. Now, I had to pick between the two of them: Pinkie, a girl full of energy who can talk about just about anything, and who had the most likable personality I’d encountered. Or Fluttershy, the timid beauty who would cause every guy around me to glare out of sheer envy.
“You know what? Isn’t the internet made exactly for stuff like this? That and funny cat videos.” I pulled out my phone, looking up all kinds of things about having relationships. Most were about how to find a girlfriend, or how to keep one, which I couldn’t say was my problem. At least, not yet.
More and more I saw and read about relationships, the more I realized how abnormal it is considered when that relationship starts involving a third party. Cheating or affairs are rampant, but not often could I find anything else. The few times I found someone talking about when they had to choose between two girls in a thread or something, he always said about how he thinks handling more than one girl would just be too much.
What if I don’t think it’s too much?
People who feel obligated to date rarely consider dating a third person with the consent of their partner. Sleeping with them or something, certainly, but not much else. Three people dating each other is just seen as bizarre, and I don’t agree. If three people want to date each other, what’s the problem with it?
Why should I have to pick? If I can date both of them, and make it work, what’s the problem? I don’t see how it would be too difficult if it's like the relationships I’ve been in before, just having to balance between the two. Would that be too selfish of me? Am I asking for too much?
Probably.
Even if that’s true, it’s the best solution I can come up with. If I can date both of them, no one gets rejected. No one gets hurt. The only bad outcome is if things end up going wrong, and I would ruin my friendship with both of them.
At this point, I don’t think trying to figure out a solution that won’t mess up is realistic. To me, this is the best idea I’ve got.
First, I have to see if they would both be ok with it. I should ask Pinkie first; she’s one of the most open-minded people I’ve met. I’m sure she would be willing to at least discuss it as a possibility. Though, I’ll have to explain how I went from having no one I’d be interested in to having two girls I’m interested in the span of one day.
I do kind of need her on my side. I can’t imagine Fluttershy would be open to the idea immediately. With Pinkie, assuming I can convince her to agree, I can at least have a better chance.
I went into my contacts. Pinkie gave me her number a while ago, telling me it was in case I had anything I wanted to discuss at three in the morning and didn’t have anyone else to talk to.
So, uh. What would you say to the idea of a three-way relationship?
I sent that text at 8 PM, right before setting my phone down on my nightstand and trying to get some sleep. My plan was to leave it to future Eight to read. Preferably in the morning where she'd either reject the idea, or be willing to at least talk about it. I usually liked to sleep in on Fridays, so there was plenty of time for her to respond.
I didn’t expect her to do so immediately.
When the phone dinged, I jumped out of the bed. I stood there and stared at my phone in my hand for a minute, almost too afraid to turn it on.
Almost.
Her response was probably what I should have expected.
Wut