//------------------------------// // WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 9, 12:11 PM // Story: Analemma, or A Year in the Sunlight // by Dubs Rewatcher //------------------------------// Twilight won’t answer my texts or my calls or my game invites. And when I arrive late to band rehearsal, she barely even looks up from her phone. “Sorry,” I say as Applejack holds open the barn door for me. “Bus stuck in traffic.” Across the room, Rainbow grins. “I keep offering to pick her up, but she won’t take it.” Rarity scoffs. “Truly, who wouldn’t want to risk their life on that deathtrap you call a motorbike?” I don’t hear Rainbow’s comeback. I straight up jump over Applejack’s amp to reach Twi as quick as I can. And when I do, I collapse into the plastic folding chair next to her hard enough to bend the seat. “Yo,” I say, unloading my backpack and guitar case. I powerwalked from the bus stop, and still haven’t caught my breath. “What’s up?” She gives me a smile smaller than a grain of salt. “Nothing. How are you?” “Where’ve you been? I haven’t heard from you in days.” “Oh.” She looks back down at her phone. “I’ve been busy.” I lean into her. “With what?” She shifts in her chair, moving away. “Nothing important.” “Then why—” Fluttershy appears behind her. “Sunset?” I snap my head to look at Fluttershy hard enough that I pinch a nerve in my neck. It takes that twinge of pain to realize I’ve got my teeth grit, my fists clenched, my shoulders stiff — no wonder Twi won’t look at me. I’m going monster mode on her. “Hey, Shy.” Breathe. Ignore Twilight ignoring me. Breathe. “What’s up?” She’s holding a cutesy pink notebook. “Could you go over the bridge in my song with me? You have such a way with words, and I’d love your help.” Saturday night’s group chat convo pops into my head. Crap, I did say I’d help her today, didn’t I? “Sure,” I say, nodding fast. I turn back to Twilight. “Just give me a little while, okay?” But she doesn’t leave. “Well,” she says, digging her toe into the hay, “I’d really like to finish these lyrics before we start practicing. Summer Sunfest is coming up soon, and I want to be ready for it.” I nod again, but I don’t look at her. My neck still hurts. “Yeah, yeah. In a bit.” “Oh. Okay.” She steps away. “I’ll come back later.” Please don’t. No, no! Stop being such an asshole. I relax my hands, my jaw. “Twilight, you need to talk to me.” For the first time, she puts down her phone and looks at my lap. “About what?” “About—?” I hold down the urge to scream. Gotta keep my voice steady. “About Saturday, when you texted me. You needed help.” “I needed advice.” She shakes her head. “And I told you, it wasn’t important. I figured it out.” Important enough that she tried to call me twice. But if she doesn’t want to admit it, that’s fine — I’m not scared to dig deeper. I put on a smile. “How was your date with Timber, then?” A buzzing wave of anxiety pulses from her skin, strong enough that I can feel it without touching her. But it doesn’t show on her blank face. “Really great. We had fun.” “What’d you do?” What did he do? She shrugs. “Just dinner. Nothing big.” “And everything went alright?” “Yes! Obviously.” She frowns, deep. “Do you always have to interrogate me like this? It makes me really uncomfortable.” There’s enough ice in her voice to freeze me to death. The two of us used to be able to share anything. No fear, no judgment. But now that’s all gone. She sounds like a stranger. Weren’t we supposed to stick together, whatever happens? “I’m sorry,” I say. My stomach has turned into a nausea mill. “I’m just trying to look out for you.” “You don’t need to do that. I’m fine. And I can take care of myself.” She furrows her brow. “I’m not a little kid.” Damn it. She knows just how to scare me off. “You’re right.” I shift away from her. “Sorry.” She pulls out her phone again and keeps scrolling. “It’s fine.” It’s not, you lying bitch. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. “Sunset?” Fluttershy calls from a few yards away. “Is now a good time?” Breathe. “Gimme another minute,” I say, and I don’t listen to her response. Instead I reach into my bag and pull out a messy bundle of sheet music, spread it out across the music stand in front of my chair, and try to focus. But my brain is too far gone to focus on anything. All I can think of are the angry words I want to shout at Twilight until she stops lying to me, and of Timber’s idiotic face, and of a future where Twilight and I’s friendship never comes back from this brink. Where she never confides in me again, and I’m alone, and she’s left to suffer. And all the while, I can’t ignore the cold bump of my amulet against my collar. What will she do if I just hold her hand and look into her mind? If I find out what’s wrong with her all by myself? She’ll probably never talk to me again. She’s barely talking to me now, though. It’s her mind. She has a right to privacy. Even if that privacy means total misery? I’ve read the same page of music five times now and haven’t absorbed a single chord. An impressive feat, considering each bar is stuffed with about fifty of them. Wait. This is Rainbow Dash’s new song. The one she wrote with super-speed. Goddess, no wonder my mind is so scrambled — this sheet music is complete nonsense. I’ve been meaning to ask Rainbow about it for weeks. If Twilight doesn’t want to chat with me, then I might as well make use of the free time. I shuffle the pages together — I swear they’ve got at least a pound of ink on them — and stand up. Fluttershy starts to speak, but I give her a firm, “In a second,” and walk over to Rainbow. “Hey, Dash?” She’s so busy adjusting her effect pedals that she doesn’t notice me until I’m a foot away. “Hey SunShim,” she says with a beam. “How you doin’ this fine morning?” “Fine. Tired.” “Same. School doesn’t start for a month, but Harshwhinny already has us waking up at sunrise for Track practice.” She chuckles. “Doesn’t she know that some of us are professional insomniacs?” I drag a hand down my face and groan. “Ugh, don’t even say her name. If I had to wake up early every day just to spend time with her — I think I’d rather cartwheel into traffic.” Rainbow’s chuckle turns into a full belly laugh. “Double same. Anyway, what’s up?” “I wanted to ask you about this song,” I say, handing her the sheet music. “Your new one.” “Ooh, ‘Trail of the Comet?’” She beams. “It’s awesome, right? No joke, I legit wrote it while I was asleep. I had this dream where I was riding on a meteor, right? Then it turned into a soccer ball! Made of diamonds! And then my aunt’s labradoodle, Angelina, showed up and was all like—” “It’s great!” I say, loud enough that she stops short. “I just wanna ask about my guitar part.” “You mean the best part of the song?” She puts her hands on her hips and lifts her chin up high. “I’m pretty proud of it, yeah.” “You know that it’s impossible to play, right?” She keeps her hands where they are, but her chin falls. “What do you mean?” “Every bar has, like, a million chords stuffed into it.” I point to the messy pages. “The whole thing is way too fast. I’d need six arms to play it.” “It’s not that fast.” “Says the girl with super-speed? Trust me, it’s pretty fast.” Her smile falls now too, and for a moment I’m worried that she’s just gonna walk away. But then she shrugs. “I think it’s fine,” she says, squatting down to look at her effect pedals again, “but if you want, you can rewrite it.” Nuh-uh. “Me?” I shake my head. “It’s your song.” Over her shoulder, I see her frown. “What do you mean?” “I mean, I’m not gonna rewrite it. You’re the one who wrote it too fast. You can rewrite it.” Behind me, Rarity yawns annoyingly loud. “Are we ready to rehearse? I need to leave by three to pick Sweetie Belle up from theatre camp!” “Keep your skirt on,” Applejack says, stretching in her chair. “We’ll start once Pinkie gets back from the bathroom.” “I still need Sunset’s help with my lyrics!” Fluttershy says. Rainbow stands up again. “Why do I have to fix it? You’re the one who has an issue. Besides, I’m busy.” “I’m busy too.” I hand her the sheet music, but she doesn’t take it. “And it’s an issue that you wrote.” “I didn’t write an issue! I wrote a banger.” She crosses her arms. “No one else complained.” “No one else but us plays guitar.” “Did you even try to play it?” “Of course I tried!” I say, rolling my eyes. I’m getting louder. I need to stay calm. Breathe. She snorts. “Show me, then.” My deep breath turns into a scream, rising in my throat. But before it escapes, Fluttershy appears next to us. “Sunset, I really don’t want to interrupt, but—” I raise my palm in front of her face, fast enough that she flinches and goes quiet. Rainbow’s glare sharpens. “I don’t have to show you anything,” I say. Breathe. Stay calm. But I want to yell. Breathe. Show her the sheet music again. “Just look at it.” She doesn’t look. She sneers and shouts, “It’s fine!” “It’s a mess!” I’m shouting back. She throws up her arms. “So fix it!” “It’s not my song!” Louder. Louder. “And it’s not my problem!” The sheets crumple in my fists. “Yes, it is!” Fluttershy raises a finger. “Sunset, I—” I turn to Fluttershy. “Could you please shut the fuck up for one second?” It takes me less than a millisecond to realize I’ve screwed up. My voice echoes off the barn walls and I swear the entire room shakes. Then I feel it: A biting gust of fear from Fluttershy. And a wildfire of rage from Rainbow. The combo makes me dizzy. I flap my lips, trying to apologize but babbling instead. Then Rainbow grabs my jacket. “Hey, asshole!” Rainbow tries to pull me towards her, but I don’t move. “You don’t get to talk to her that way!” My alien apology disappears. And instinct takes over. “Don’t touch me!” I wrap my giant hand around her wrist and squeeze, hard enough that I can feel her bones, hard enough that she squeaks. I want to keep squeezing until she cracks. But Applejack runs between us and pushes us apart. She’s the only one here stronger than me, and I stumble backwards, knocking over a music stand.  Rainbow falls into her chair. She jumps back up and tries to run at me, but AJ catches her by the collar before she gets going. “Both of you, calm down!” Applejack says, holding out her arms to keep us separated. “You’re acting like damn kids!” Rainbow jabs a finger at me. “She’s the one whining!” I step forward and make Applejack hold me back. “I’m telling you your song sucks!” Applejack scowls. “I said stop it!” Twilight and Rarity are staring. Fluttershy is frozen in place. “I don’t know what’s got into you two, but I ain’t putting up with it. You’re friends, not fools.” Applejack shoves us away again. “Both of you: Apologize.” Rainbow scoffs. “Apologize for what? I didn’t do anything!” Applejack looks at her and grunts. I swear I see fire coming from her nostrils. It’s enough to make Rainbow shrink. She looks at her feet, then growls. “Fine. I’m sorry, Sunset.” Everyone looks at me. Screw this. Screw them. Screw Rainbow. This is so stupid. Why should I apologize to her? For telling the truth about her shit song? For defending myself? Applejack’s acting like we both caused a problem, but she grabbed me first. That’s how it always goes: Rainbow ruins everything and gets a pass, then I call her out and everyone hates me. I’m not sorry. Rainbow can get bent. But everyone’s still looking. And I know what’ll happen if I don’t apologize. What they’ll do to me. It’s a year of progress, gone. It’s back to everyone treating me like the waste of life I am. Wallflower Blush, all over again. Applejack glowers. “Sunset.” “I’m sorry.” It shoots past my lips faster than I can think. “To both of you. Rainbow, Fluttershy.” Fluttershy’s squirming in place, but she nods. Rainbow just shoves her hands in her pockets like a scumbag. With that, Applejack smiles at us both, then walks back to her seat. Rarity and Twilight look at their phones again. And Fluttershy walks over to her backpack. Might as well try, I guess. “Hey, Shy,” I say, ignoring how she jumps. Try to sound happy. “Again, I’m really sorry for snapping at you. Do you wanna work on your song?” She doesn’t look up. “Thanks,” she says. She puts her notebook away. “But we should probably start practicing.” Then she picks up her bag and goes to sit next to Rainbow, who’s tuning her guitar and muttering to herself. Probably about me. And that’s fine. She can say whatever she wants. Doesn’t change the fact that she tried to fight me and gave up as soon as AJ stepped in. I sit back down, take out my guitar, and try to focus on tuning. But what if AJ hadn’t stepped in? I could have kept crushing Rainbow’s wrist. And she would have started crying for me to stop. And she’d try to hit me. But I’d kick her in the stomach and she’d fall down. And I’d jump on her and punch and punch and punch. And they’d all regret treating me like this. Something rips between my fingers. I look down. At some point I stopped tuning, put my hands on my lap, and started wringing my leggings. And now I’ve torn a hole in the fabric, big enough to shove three fingers though. Goddess, what’s wrong with me? I owe these girls my life. How am I still so horrible to them? I can’t ever get upset like this. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. Twilight moves her chair closer to mine. “Are you alright?” Oh, now you want to know about me? But she lays her hand on my knee. And a soft wave of love rolls through her and into me. And I wish someone could touch me like this every day. And I could read her thoughts right now. But I won’t. “Yeah, just — annoyed.” I sigh. “It was a dumb argument.” “Not really. You’re right, it’s impossible to play.” Thank you! “Sure. But I didn’t need to yell at Fluttershy like that.” “Of course. But things happen. You said sorry, and she forgave you.” I smirk. “It’s really nice to talk to you again.” “Same to you,” she says with a nod and a simper. The barn’s back door flies open and Pinkie Pie sprints inside, holding two platters of pastry. “Guess who baked a dozen miniature apple pies on her way back from the toilet?” Fluttershy strokes her own hair. “Um. You?” “I hope you washed your hands,” Rarity says. “Scrubbed underneath my fingernails and everything!” Pinkie giggles, but then scans the room and winds down. “Hey, things got kinda mopey in here. What happened?” “Nothing happened,” Rainbow says, pulling her guitar strap over her head. “Just ready up. We’re not leaving until we go through the whole Summer Sunfest set.” Pinkie frowns, then shrugs and balances the platters on a nearby shelf. “Okie-dokie!” she says, and skips over to her drumset. Our eyes meet briefly as she passes. Twilight takes a drink of water and clears her throat. I put on my guitar strap and flick on my amp. I haven’t had time to calibrate it — too busy angsting — but the girls will have to deal. In my pocket, my phone buzzes. I quickly take it out and check the screen. It’s a text from Pinkie: “Are u okay?? ☹️❤️☹️” I look over at her, but she’s busy adjusting her cymbals. So I just text back, “Totally.” Who’s the one lying now, huh?