203: GOOD, BETTER, BEST
Spitfire raised a hoof to the door, hesitated, then shook her head and knocked. The muffled sound of crying coming from the other side of the door suddenly stopped.
“Lightning Dust?” said Spitfire.
“Go away,” said the pony on the other side.
“Not likely,” said Spitfire, pushing open the door.
Lightning Dust tried to glower at her, but the effect was rather spoiled by the fact that the teal pegasus was huddling on her bed with tears running down her face. “What do you want . . . ma’am?”
Spitfire stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. “I wanted to apologize. I was pretty hard on you back there, and truthfully . . . this is as much my fault as it is yours. I should have kept a closer eye on everypony, especially you. I should have put my hoof down earlier. You’re a truly great flyer, Lightning Dust, and I admire that you’re constantly pushing yourself, but it’s like I said: you have to push yourself in the right direction.”
Lightning Dust wrapped her wings around herself and started crying again.
Spitfire sighed. “Look, Lightning, it’s not the end of the world. Live and learn, right?”
“But I failed!” shouted Lightning, sobbing behind her wings. “I was supposed to be lead pony! I was supposed to be the best!”
“Kid, this is just your first week—”
Lightning’s wings snapped open. “I was supposed to be the best!” she screamed. She suddenly deflated, wings drooping. “I promised,” she said quietly.
Spitfire frowned. “Promised to be the best?”
Lightning nodded.
“Promised who?”
Lightning squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, wrapping her wings around herself again.
Spitfire hesitated, then slowly sat down next to the other pegasus and put a wing around her. “Promised who?” she prompted gently.
Lightning slowly reached under her pillow and withdrew a small picture frame. Shuddering, she passed it to Spitfire.
The Wonderbolt captain took it and looked. The picture inside was old and yellowed, and— “Sweet Celestia, this is Stratus! And Nimbus! My mom and dad used to talk about their shows all the time!” She frowned. “So . . . you promised the most famous civilian flyers in Cloudsdale that you’d be the best?”
“They’re my grandparents.”
Spitfire’s eyes went wide. “Your—grandparents? Stratus and Nimbus?”
Lightning nodded. “They were the best flyers outside of the Wonderbolts, and I promised them. I promised them I’d be the best, too. That I’d get into the Wonderbolts and be the best flier in Equestria. I have to do this, ma’am. This is everything to me. I’ve spent my whole life working my tail off for this.” She looked Spitfire in the eye, as if daring her to protest. “I will be the best.”