//------------------------------//
// SUNDAY, MAY 21, 11:30 PM 
// Story: Analemma, or A Year in the Sunlight 
// by Dubs Rewatcher 
//------------------------------//

Dear Rarity: Thank you so, so, so much for the party dress! It’s genuinely the most beautiful gown I’ve ever worn.

But I’m never trusting you to buy me shoes ever again.

Goddess above these high heels suck. Too tight, too heavy. The heel on the left one legit snapped off halfway through our set, tipping me over and nearly knocking Applejack off the stage — demon shoe. I love a good stiletto! But I love having non-broken ankles more.

And after today, the last thing I need is another body part in searing pain. Between Gaia Everfree strangling us with vines, saving the camp, organizing the fundraiser, and playing our concert, I feel like I’ve been tossed into a blender and mulched into the world’s sweatiest smoothie.

Whatever. I prefer going barefoot anyway. As the party winds to a close and I limp back to my tent, I savor the wet grass against my ankles, the loose dirt between my toes. It reminds me of home, childhood — foalhood. I’m not some ‘Return to Nature’ nudist, no matter how many jokes Rainbow and AJ make. But ponies are so much more in touch with nature than humans, and I’ve got some suspicions why.

Unbelievably, the lights in our tent are on. Twilight left the party twenty minutes earlier, and I half expected her to spend our last night at Camp Everfree canoodling with Timber Spruce somewhere. And for all I know, I could be seconds away from walking in on something I shouldn’t.

Thankfully, when I peer into the tent through a crack in the doorway flaps, there aren’t any horny teenage boys in sight. Just Twilight in her pajamas, laying in bed and reading. She’s got her hair down, and it’s splayed out in messy strands over her shoulders. Spike is snoozing at the end of the bed, right on top of her folded party dress. 

I tip-toe in and toss my hellish high-heels into the corner. Twilight jerks a bit at their clattering sound, but then adjusts her glasses and smiles at me. “Hey. Is the party over?”

“Pretty much.” I sit down and pull my hair clips out. My hair stays frozen in place, sticking up like a frizzy wildfire. “Pinkie and Dash are still trying to see who can drink the most punch without puking.”

“Oh, jeez. What did Rainbow wager this time?”

“She’s gotta work a shift at the diner with Pinkie. Frilly dress and all.”

“Truly a fate worse than death.” Twilight shakes her head and returns to her book. Then, in a quieter voice, she asks, “Is Timber still there?”

Holding back a giggle, I say, “I think so. Last I saw, he was just schmoozing with a few donors and picking up trash. Honestly, I’m surprised you’re not texting with him right now.”

“Should I? I don’t want to bother him. And besides, I don’t even know if he likes me!” She turns back to her book for less than five seconds before asking, “Do you think he likes me?”

I can’t help but smirk as I rub my lipstick off with a makeup wipe. “Yeah. I’d say he likes you.”

Twilight’s cheeks burn pink. “Oh, jeez,” she says again, dropping her book. “Should I have said something? Or is he supposed to confess his feelings first? Do I need to secure his interest by asking him on a date before we leave? Maybe I should go back and help him clean up, then segue that into—”

“Twilight.” I hold up a hand. “Take a breath. You can talk to him at breakfast tomorrow.”

Closing her eyes, Twilight inhales loudly and manages to hold the breath for two whole seconds before letting go. “Sorry,” she says. “It’s been a long day.”

“You’re telling me,” I say, wiping off my mascara. “But after the vocal performance you gave tonight, I’m surprised you can still talk, let alone stay awake. Timber’s gotta be hooked on you after that.”

“Stop,” she says, shaking her head. “I wasn’t anything special. Your harmonies carried me.”

“Nah. If anything, you were carrying us, especially after I fell on Applejack.” I snap my makeup mirror shut and grin. “Welcome to the Rainbooms. You’re the best singer we could have asked for. And, like, twenty times better than the Princess, by the way.”

She’s blushing harder than ever now. “Thanks. It’s an honor, really.”

“Honor is all ours,” I say, standing up. “I just hope Applejack’s butt isn’t too bruised.”

Speaking of bruises…

Just lifting my arms is enough to make me curse in agony as I reach behind myself and feel for my dress’ zipper. I pull it loose, groaning with each inch, and let the dress crumple around my ankles. Drenched in sweat and down to just my underwear, I take a moment to bask in the sudden rush of fresh air against my skin — even on a hellishly humid night like tonight, the cool Spring air feels like salvation.

I bend to collect my dress, but then Twilight gasps and I snap back up. “What? What’s wrong?” Even hours after defeating Gaia Everfree, my nerves are wired like car batteries.

The flush on Twilight’s face is gone. She’s grimacing. “Look at your back.”

My heart is still hammering as I step over to the mirror and turn around. The sight doesn’t calm me down much.

My back is painted with bruises, sores, scrapes, and at least a dozen tiny cuts. A few of the cuts are covered with speckles of dried blood. It sorta looks like I actually did get thrown into a blender.

I’d noticed some redness when getting dressed for the party earlier, but I was too rushed to pay any mind. I didn’t even have time to take a shower. No wonder I felt like absolute death all night — I figured it was just my normal back pain. 

“What the hell,” is all I can think to say as I hurry to my bag and pull out some more makeup wipes. “Can I get a single break today, please?”

“It must have been Gaia Everfree’s vines. The ones she trapped us with were covered in thorns.” Twilight scratches her chin. “But how did I manage to escape unscathed, while you got hurt? She had us both tied up incredibly tight. Of course, you are much…”

She looks at the floor.

There’s a pause. A long, thick pause.

“Bigger than you?” I say, raising an eyebrow.

Twilight doesn’t lift her eyes. “Yeah. Sorry. I wasn’t trying—”

“It’s cool, Twi. Trust me, I know how huge I am.” I’m trying to smile, but between that comment and my ripped up skin, it’s an effort. The makeup wipes sting against my wounds. “You’ve got bandages, yeah?”

“You should disinfect the broken skin first.” She reaches out her hand, and her backpack shoots across the room to her. That’s gonna take some getting used to. “I’ve got some ointment here that should help with the cuts and bruises.”

“Dope.” I pose in front of the mirror again, giving an achey grunt when I strain my neck to look over my shoulder. “Mind giving me a hand? I’m big, not flexible.”

A few seconds pass before I hear Twilight stand up and say, “Sure. Can we sit on your bed?”

I’m still pulsing with pain as I hop onto my bed and sit cross-legged facing the headboard. Holding a pink bottle, Twilight slowly climbs on and sits behind me, close enough that I can feel her breath on my bare back.

Whatever this special ointment is, I’m sure it’s either going to sting or be freezing cold, so I try to distract myself with other thoughts. I should know better; the only thing I can think of is Twilight’s comment about my weight.

I wasn’t lying: I know how huge I am. It’d be hard to ignore. I stand almost a full head taller than most of the girls in my class, Twilight included. I’ve got shoulders broad enough to put some quarterbacks to shame. And although I’ve never seen Twi on a scale, I’ve got to be at least 50 or 60 pounds heavier than her. It’s a good thing I fell on Applejack at the concert — three feet to the left and I probably would have crushed every bone in Twilight’s tiny body.

Back in my Queen of CHS days, none of this bothered me. The size advantage made shoving kids into lockers easy, and intimidating them even easier. And I hated being human anyway; I could have looked like a supermodel and not cared. Ironic, considering how much I taunted other girls for their size.

Now, though? I think about it way more than I like to admit. Every trip to Rarity’s workshop, every minute in the locker room before gym class, every SnapGab post from some influencer who pays millions to avoid looking like me. I’m not an hourglass. I’m not even a pear. I’m a brick.

Twilight didn’t mean anything by it. She didn’t. But even now, I can feel the sweat pooling in the folds of my stomach, the chafing on my thighs. The bed creaks every time I breathe.

“Sunset?”

I look over my shoulder. “What’s up?”

She’s staring at my upper back. “I think you should probably take your bra off. The straps are covering a lot of the damage. I mean, if that’s okay with you.”

“No problem.” I grunt and try to reach behind myself, but my joints scream out in pain. Sighing, I let my arms flop onto the bed. “Any chance you can unhook me?”

She nods and grabs my bra clasp. It comes undone quickly — if my boobs could talk, they’d be crying out in joy — but Twilight keeps holding the hooks together. “Wait one sec,” she says.

She reaches a hand out toward her bed, where Spike is still sleeping on top of her dress. A shimmering purple light wraps around both Spike and the dress. Gently, she lifts them up and floats them out of the tent, onto the steps outside.

With that, Twilight lets go of my bra straps, and I can’t stop myself from laughing. “My modesty is saved!”

Twilight rolls her eyes, but giggles too. “You know, I never cared much when he was just a dog. But ever since he started talking, undressing around him feels… weird. He’s become like a little brother, in a way.”

I toss my bra off the bed. “Well, the other Spike back in Equestria is a child.”

“Really?” She squeezes some white paste onto her fingers.

“Yep. I mean, a child dragon, but yeah.”

“That’s amazing.” With two fingers, she rubs some of the ointment across a bright red mark on my shoulder. It’s both stinging and freezing cold, making my toes curl. “Gosh, we really do live in an amazing world, don’t we?”

“You could say that.” I chuckle. “What’s got you so starry eyed tonight?”

She’s silent for a moment before asking, “Have you ever been in love?”

That’s a good question. I think back to the few relationships I’ve had, both here and in Equestria. Mint Leaf made great snacks, but she spent half our time together whining over nothing. Redshift knew more about pyromancy than anypony I’ve ever met, but they had no sense of humor. And Flash Sentry was a great guy in so many ways, but he was human, so I treated him like absolute garbage — not that he seems to hold a grudge. 

I dated all of them. Got close to all of them. Made out with all of them. But did I love any of them?

Another blob of icy ointment shuts off my thoughts. “I dunno,” I say as she rubs her palm against my lower back. “Have you?”

I hear her swallow. “I think I might be.”

Seriously? She’s known Timber for all of three days, and she already knows she loves him? Am I totally broken inside, or is this moving way too quick? And honestly, I don’t get what she sees in him. He’s got a nice chin, sure, but what else? Some cheesy science jokes? She’s worth more than that.

A few sarcastic comments float behind my teeth, but the tickle of Twilight's hands on my skin blows them away. Her hands are tiny, delicate, fine-tipped brushes. The mix of the cold paste and her warm breaths traipsing down my spine gives me goosebumps.

She’s worth more than dumb science jokes, yeah. But she’s worth more than my cynicism too.

“What’s it like?” I ask.

“I can’t stop thinking about Timber. I try to read, or play games on my phone, but he’s always on my mind, and then I just start smiling and oh my gosh it’s amazing.” Her voice cracks on that last word. She’s rubbing my back faster, faster, and with my powers I can feel the excitement flowing out of her like an electric current. “It feels like I’m constantly ponying up, but five times as strong. I want to laugh, I want to sing. I want to throw up!”

Her hands start to shake. “I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. It has to be love, right? It has to be! I love Timber.”

“Wow. I never woulda guessed you had a thing for guys in beanies.”

She presses her fingers into a particularly big bruise, making me wince. “I’m serious,” she says. “I’m in love, and if Timber really does like—love me back, I don’t want to mess it up. He’s a fresh start for me.”

Now I’m the one frowning. “What does that mean?”

“All Timber knows about me is what he saw this weekend. He never saw me as a Crystal Prep loser, or a CHS she-demon. To him, I’m just an amazing girl who loves geology and saved his sister.” She stops touching me. “He’s not like everyone else. He doesn’t treat me like a freak.”

That smacks me in the back of the head like a golf club. All those sarcastic comments come roaring to life again. I want to spin around and look her in the eyes, but the pain and fatigue keeps me planted in my sweaty spot.

Calm down.

I take a breath and keep my voice low. “I don’t treat you like a freak, do I?”

“No, of course not! But we’re not in love. It’s different.”

Swallowing my curses, I nod. “I guess. Yeah.”

Her hands return to my skin, massaging my lower back. The excitement I felt from her before is still there, but dimmed. “Ever since the Friendship Games, my life has changed so much. Which is okay. But I want a place I can relax, without having to worry about magic and growing wings and all that. Timber can be that place.”

She wants to spend time with Timber. Time away from magic and time away from me.

Damn it, what am I talking about? I sound like some jealous girlfriend, getting huffy because Twilight’s hanging out with someone new. 

I chew my tongue. Deep down, I know that all this anger is just an excuse to avoid the truth: All the pain and anxiety that Twilight’s had to suffer through these past few months is my fault. She came to CHS looking for the magic that I brought here. It was that same magic that corrupted her and Gloriosa. It all leads back to me and my stupid mistakes. It only makes sense that she’d want a break.

“I’m not saying this to hurt you, you know.”

My tongue stings from how hard I chomp down on it. I look over my shoulder at Twilight, who hasn’t taken her eyes off my back. All the excitement in her fingers has hardened into deafening anxiety.

“You’re still my best friend,” she says. “And I do love you, too. Just not in the same way.”

“I know,” I say, turning back around. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I am! I’m super happy.”

She doesn’t feel happy.

We sit quietly for a minute, breathing in time with one another. Every squish of the ointment against my wounds is gunshot loud. And with every touch, more and more of Twilight’s anxiety courses through me. I’m balling up my fists, begging for this to end so I can go to bed and forget about how awful everything feels.

“Sunset?” Twilight says, making me jump. I give her a strangled little grunt of acknowledgment, and she rests her hands flat on my shoulders. “I’m sorry for what happened on Friday night. When I blew up at you.”

I shake my head. “It’s no problem, Twi. You were tired, stressed out beyond belief. If I were in your spot, I would’ve had a total meltdown.” Probably with more screaming and swearing.

“Maybe. But there’s something I said that I shouldn’t have.” She takes a long breath. “I snapped at you for sticking up for me so much. That was totally uncalled for.”

I remember the comment, and how it stabbed me like a needle. But I shake the memory off. “Seriously, it’s fine—”

“Sunset please let me say this before I start crying.”

I shut up.

Without looking, I can see her face: Brows furrowed, lips pursed, eyes pointed down. If her hands weren’t covered in salve, I’m sure she’d be wringing them.

“The best part of transferring to CHS has been you and the rest of the girls,” she says. “For the first time in my life, I have friends my age! Friends I can actually talk to, not just sit near in math class. And even though you’ve all been so nice to me, I just — I feel like such a burden.”

A pang of sadness shoots through her and into me.

“I’m so sensitive. I panic about everything. Someone tells a joke, and everyone gets it except for me. Before tonight, I wasn’t even a Rainboom; I was just a weirdo hanging on the sidelines. And when I get stressed, I shut down, and then someone has to come save me.”

I think back to her first day. Gym class with Harshwhinny. Rarity’s workshop. Friday night. All the times I’ve noticed her sitting at the end of our lunch table, watching while we all babble about some nonsense and chuckle at our inside jokes.

“And every time you stood up for me, it felt good, yeah, but afterwards I’d get so scared. I was sure that eventually you’d get tired of coming to my rescue. Eventually you’d all leave me behind and move on with your lives, or even replace me with someone less needy. Someone normal.”

There’s a long silence, punctuated only by her trembling breaths. I decide to take the chance.

“I’d never abandon you,” I say. Her hands stiffen. “The few months I’ve known you have been the best since I arrived on Earth.”

She chokes on air. Well, she did warn me.

But the sobbing doesn’t come. Instead, she swallows, hard. Then she leans forward, wraps her arms around my stomach, and rests her cheek against my back. She’s so warm, and I hope that she didn’t just get a faceful of salve or sweat.

“Sometimes, over the last few weeks,” she says, “after I woke up from my nightmares, I’d get on my knees and pray that all of this was a dream. I’d pray that when I woke up, I’d just be a normal Crystal Prep student again. A total nobody.”

She tightens her grip. 

“But after this weekend — sitting with you, meeting Timber, playing that concert, learning to control my powers, saving everyone — I get why this happened to me. It’s been so, so hard. But having you as a best friend is worth it.”

My vision blurs. I bite my lip and blink until it’s clear again.

“I know you don’t mind sticking up for me. But after tonight, you won’t need to anymore,” she says. “I’m going to be strong, like you. I promise.”

The anxiety inside her is still there. But it’s been joined by something new. Just a tiny spark, a frail flame flickering deep in her gut. And it’s growing.

I try to think of some witty response, something to let her know how awesome she is. All I can focus on is her arms against my bare stomach, her face against my back, her breath on my skin.

So I just cross my arms, resting my hands over hers. “I believe in you. And whatever happens, we stick together. Alright?”

“Even if I have a boyfriend?”

Holy hell, I almost forgot how this conversation started! 

“Yes, even if you have a boyfriend!” I say, laughing. “And trust me, if Timber is anything like the guys I’ve dated, you’re gonna need someone to vent to about how dumb boys can be.”

And to catch you when it falls apart. If it falls apart.

Twilight giggles and releases her hold on me. Her cheek peels away from my skin like glue — screw this humidity.

“You should be alright,” she says. “I’ll grab you some bandages. If any of the cuts start to leak pus, or you run a fever, see a doctor right away.”

“Will do. Thank you, Nurse Twilight.” I salute her as she scoots off my bed and over to her first aid kit. Compared to the ointment, it only takes a moment for her to bandage me up. Every touch comes with a tiny jolt of joy.