//------------------------------// // FRIDAY, JUNE 2, 4:35 PM // Story: Analemma, or A Year in the Sunlight // by Dubs Rewatcher //------------------------------// Back in the day, I hated everyone. But I especially hated Pinkie Pie. I hated her parties, her bright pink clothing, her constant laughter. I hated sharing an art class with her, even breathing her air. I spent more time trying to crush her spirit than any of my other classmates. And yet, no matter how much I tormented her, she never stopped smiling. Hell, it took until halfway through Sophomore year for her to stop inviting me to parties. And even then, I always got the feeling that she was just biding her time, waiting for the right moment to win my friendship. Now, though? I can’t imagine life without her.  I love her laugh, and the way you can hear it echo from three hallways away. I love the smell of whipped cream that she carries with her everywhere she goes. I love the thought and care she puts into every single interaction she has with anyone.  And that smile — that impossibly stretched out grin, those beaming teeth — it’s the highlight of my day.  She was the first one to accept me after I became one of the ‘good guys.’ Her support is what kept me on the right path, even when it felt pointless. She’s like a living compass, pointing me forward. So when she approached me after the Battle of the Bands, saying she’d come up with a great idea for a new school club and wanted my help with it, I couldn’t refuse. Fast-forward five months, and the CHS Pride Alliance is one of the biggest clubs in the entire school. We’ve got 31 active members, and even more on our mailing list. We led a push to get every member of staff Safe Zone trained. We hold weekly mixers, bake sales, charity fundraisers. And right now, we’re an hour into our newest project: Canterlot High School’s First Annual Pride Month Jamboree. We’ve got sixty people, students from every grade, crammed into the band room. Balloons and confetti cover the walls. Applejack’s handing out soda and hot slices of apple pie. Vinyl Scratch is blasting music loud enough to rattle my brain, while Rainbow and Lyra compete in a dance-off for the self-appointed title of Supreme Gay. And I’m sitting by the door with Fluttershy, taking donations for our charity drive and handing out pins. We’ve raised over $300 so far, and it’s only been an hour! Say what you will about that Diamond Tiara, but anyone who donates their entire allowance to a charity for trans kids can’t be that bad. But honestly, Fluttershy is doing most of the work convincing people to donate — she’s a hell of a businesswoman when she wants to be. I’m busy straining my eyes, trying to keep track of Pinkie as she literally bounces around the room. She’s spent the last hour personally greeting every guest that stops by, taking photos, and even hitting the dance floor. Wearing a glittery feather boa, her pansexual pride shirt and every single pronoun button we have, she’s more of a technicolor blur than Rainbow. I can’t think of a better Pride Alliance President than her. I take a second to scan the room, making sure nothing’s gone awry, but there’s not a single bit out of place. Everyone’s having the time of their lives. There’s someone missing, though. I nudge Fluttershy, who’s stuffing a few bills into our cashbox. “Hey, did you see where Twilight went?” “I think I saw her leave around the time the dance-off started.” Fluttershy turns around and points at a bulky purple backpack in her corner. “Her bag’s still here, though.” I scratch my head. Rainbow and Lyra started competing over 20 minutes ago. Twilight had been as excited for this party as anybody, but she’s already missed half of it? I try to ignore the twinge of worry inside me. Ever since we got back from Camp Everfree, I’ve been making a sincere effort to stop coddling her, to stop butting in when I don’t need to. And to her credit, she’s already become way more outgoing and assertive. Last week, Trixie asked her to borrow a dollar for peanut butter crackers, and she actually refused! Standing between Trixie and her snacks takes guts. But even if I discard the worry, the thought of her missing so much of our Jamboree is still disappointing. Not only for her, but for me — the dub of the second season finale of Torn World finally aired last night, and I need to get her take on it. Why the hell are they killing off Deep Slate before he gets revenge on his brother? Why? I stand up and stretch my arms. “Cover for me for a bit?” I ask Fluttershy. “My butt’s falling asleep.” “Can do,” she says. “But hurry back! I’m not a very good capitalist.” The overflowing box of cash in front of you says otherwise, Flutters. Pulling out my phone, I step out from behind the table and head to the doors. I start drafting a text to Twilight, asking where she went. But I don’t get a chance to send it. As soon as I step out of the band room, I find Twilight sitting against the wall a few feet away. She’s got a book in one hand and a cup of soda in the other, and her face is a picture of contentment. She doesn’t notice me until I’m a step away, and when she does, actually manages not to flinch. “Hey,” she says, not looking up from her book. “Hey?” I stare down at her. “You doing alright out here?” Her eyes flit to look at me for half a second. “Yep. The music was just getting a bit overbearing. Music that loud tends to make me feel claustrophobic.” “We can turn it down, if you’d like.” “No, no, it’s fine! I’m probably going to head out in a few minutes anyway.” My mood drops instantly, and I know it’s showing on my face. Thankfully, Twi’s not looking. Grunting, I sit down next to her. The hallway floor is even harder than the band room’s plastic chairs, but I trust my big ass to handle the pain. “Can I hang out with you for those last few minutes, then?” I don’t need to touch her to sense the annoyance. “Sunset, you don’t need to abandon the party on my behalf. Really.” “I’m not abandoning anything! We’re both party guests, yeah? As far as I’m concerned, we’re just bringing the party out into the hallway.” I point at her cup. “Look, you’ve even got a drink!” “So, by that logic, if both of us were to go to the bathroom, we’d be holding this party in the bathroom too?” “Absolutely.” I turn up my nose. “And for your information, I love bathroom parties. The acoustics are great.” My snobbish pose melts into a sheepish grin. “Also I think the music’s pretty loud too. I’ve already got tinnitus — no need to make it worse.” Twilight gives me a half-lidded look for a moment more, but then smiles. “Alright. But only for a few minutes; everyone else will start missing you.” “Don’t worry, Pinkie’s got things handled. And besides, I was already missing you.” Twilight shakes her head, then closes her book. She never uses bookmarks — she somehow always remembers exactly what page and paragraph she stopped on, even if she hasn’t picked up the book in weeks. “I have to say, this is a great party.” She turns her body to face me. “It’s so amazing how you’ve given people a place where they can really express themselves. You should be proud.” “Well, it is the Pride Alliance,” I say with a wink. Twilight rolls her eyes, but keeps smiling. “And honestly, Pinkie’s the one who deserves all the props. She’s the President and Party Planner. I’m just the Vice-President, Secretary, Treasurer, and Public Relations Consultant.” “A minor role, really.” That nearly makes me fall over. Twilight Sparkle, sarcastic? I never thought I’d see the day! But I manage to stay upright, laugh, and say, “We gotta stand together, y’know? Even if it is just once a week.” She nods, then asks, “Are you gay?” I’m both shocked and appreciative of how outright her question is. I remember meeting with Vice-Principal Luna back when we started the club, and how awkwardly she tried to tiptoe around the G Word. Compared to that sort of professional sterility, Twilight is a breath of fresh air. Though asking the question so plainly doesn’t make it any easier to answer. “Something like that,” I say after a moment. “What do you mean?” “Sexuality works sorta differently back in Equestria.” I pick my words carefully, trying to remember how I explained this to Pinkie Pie. “We don’t really have a concept of ‘gay’ or ‘straight.’ Romance is less about gender and more about personality. And even gender is pretty fluid.” “There’s no reproductive component that separates relationships?” She tilts her head. “Like, a term to define couples that can produce offspring and couples that can’t?” “Not really?” I purse my lips and try to think back. “We’ve had spells that let same-sex couples have kids for hundreds of years. So the only real difference is the process, and pretty much any doctor can help with that.” “Fascinating," Twilight says.  I wish it was like that here. It must have been a shock, coming to Earth and seeing how rigid everything is.” “One shock of many.” The nosy devil in me sparks to life, and I cast Twilight a smirk. “You asked me, so what about you?” I’m expecting her to get flustered, maybe to not even answer. Instead she looks up into the air and furrows her brows like it’s a complex equation. “I’m... not sure.” “Oh?” I sidle a bit closer, speak a bit softer. “Penny for your thoughts?” “It’s not that interesting. Statistically speaking, I’m probably straight. But I’ve just never had a reason to think about it that hard.” She chuckles. “I was always more concerned with studying than falling in love. And until Timber Spruce came around, no one ever liked me, so it was a moot point.” “I doubt that,” I say, blowing a raspberry. She looks at me, confused, so I add, “You’re cute, you’re smart, you’re funny. I bet that here and at Crystal Prep, you’ve had loads of people checking you out. Boys and girls.” A slight flush fills her cheeks. She looks at the ground, smiling. “That’s nice to think. But I’m perfectly happy with Timber right now.” “Good to hear.” I gently elbow her. “And whatever you are, I think you’re cool.” “Same to you, Miss Shimmer.” She lifts her cup and moves it towards me. “Cheers?” I wrap my hand around an imaginary cup and clink it against hers. “Cheers!” We both burst out laughing like the dorks we are. And as if we’re blowing into a dog whistle, Pinkie Pie bursts out of the band room and rushes towards us. “Hey you two!” she says, running in place. She’s somehow gotten even buzzier in the five minutes I’ve been gone. “Come back inside quick! Lyra won the dance-off and now we’re all taking funny pictures! First one in the shot gets to wear my boa!” Before we can respond, she dashes away and through the band room doors again. I offer Twilight my hand. “Interested?” She eyes it with a blank expression, then takes it in hers. “Just one photo,” she says as we stand up. We walk back into the Jamboree, hand-in-hand, and head over to Pinkie’s makeshift photo booth. 'Just one photo' becomes dozens, and 'a few more minutes' becomes two hours. Twilight doesn't leave my side for a moment. We keep on talking, teasing each other. Pinkie might be the life of the party, but Twilight brings her own kind of magic. I hope she knows that. There’s one thing that we both know, though: The Torn World finale sucked.