School ended as it always did, with a sigh of relief. Finally, I was free to go. I stuffed my new lunchbox into my saddlebag and started out.
It wasn't going to be that easy, of course. I'd attracted the attention of the local bully, who'd had time to get her nerves back up after getting faced down earlier. New backbone or not, she came with an ally this time, a green unicorn filly with a brown mane.
"She don't look so tough," the green filly with the ivy cutie mark said, giving me the hairy eyeball. I brushed passed her and Vanilla Sweet, not bothering with a reply.
"She's not, Ivy," Vanilla Sweet scoffed. "She just thinks she is, what with that stupid story about having been a stallion."
"Oh, that's her?" I could hear the sneer in the unicorn's voice, but I elected to ignore it. The two of them fell in behind me, not letting up on the jabs that they were sure would wound my tender heart. "Sad. Maybe she lost her marbles because she's still a blank flank?"
Actually, that one did hurt a little. I have a cutie mark, or at least I had a cutie mark. When the poison joke hit me, it not only took away my sense of self, it took my mark away too. My old cutie mark was a pair of hoof-cuffs, which I'd received when I first realized that I wanted to be a police officer. I had no idea if I could get that mark back or not. I could only hope that I got it back when I got cured.
They'd crossed a line, though they hadn't realized it. They kept making little quips at my expense as I angled my way towards Miss Persimmon, who was standing by the gateway to the schoolyard, saying a happy farewell to all of her little students. The teasing behind me died down as we approached the teacher. Even bullies aren't dumb enough to bully with a teacher present.
It's called the Schoolyard Code. The average student would have just walked on by the teacher without saying anything, guaranteeing that they'd be harassed and teased for as long as the bullies maintained interest. For some reason, that was considered to be better than being a "snitch". I wasn't the average student. I pulled up sharply by the teacher, the two fillies behind me almost colliding with my back end. That'll teach them to pay attention.
"Miss Persimmon," I said, the politeness in my voice making her look at me as if I were a stranger. "These two fillies have been bullying me."
Her eyes went wide, whether from the accusation or from my lack of a confrontational attitude, I could only begin to guess. The fillies behind me began protesting their innocence, but I can talk louder than anypony when I set my mind to it.
"They've been calling me crazy and a blank flank since school let up. And, earlier, Vanilla Sweet took another filly's lunchbox."
"I gave it back!" Vanilla Sweet slapped a hoof over her muzzle when she realized that her protest doubled as a confession.
"That was after she hit the other filly in the muzzle and knocked her down," I continued relentlessly. Ivy, relatively innocent of any accusations so far, started backing away. She stopped when the teacher's glare pinned her to the ground.
I noticed now that we were gathering quite a crowd. Plum Pudding was there, her eyes wide in disbelief as I did the unthinkable: telling a teacher.
"Are you making this up, Cinnamon Swirl?" the teacher asked me.
"You don't really know me," I told her evenly. "I know you think my stories about being a stallion before are all made up. But, whatever, that's not even important. One thing that I would never do, ever, is lie to get another pony in trouble. Everything I just told you is the truth."
Miss Persimmon raised a hoof, silencing the protests from the two fillies behind me.
"Who did she hit?" she asked, her voice low and dangerous. In spite of myself, I was really starting to like this mare.
I was about to answer when I caught Plum's eye. She was shaking her head, panic in her eyes. I sighed. "I think the filly in question doesn't want to get the bullies madder at her by speaking up. She didn't know I was going to do this, and she probably wants me to keep her name out of it."
The teacher was no dummy. She caught where my eyes were going. She saw Plum Pudding shaking her head. She saw the bruise on her muzzle and the panic and shame in her eyes. She looked back at me and nodded. "I understand. I won't force her to speak up, if she's afraid of being hit again. I'll take your word for it."
"What?!" Vanilla Sweet seemed ready to blow, at first. Then a thought occurred in her dim little filly brain, and she got all smug. "You can't actually do that! I have a right to face my accuser! It's, like, the law and junk! You have to let me go, otherwise!"
"That's only if you're arrested and charged with a crime," I told her. Now I was the one having trouble keeping the smugness out of my voice. I think I managed, if just barely. "Though, I suppose hitting another pony does count as assault. If you really want to face your accuser, we could go that route."
My words landed in the playground like a block of lead. Vanilla Sweet was waving her hooves, protesting that she didn't want that, didn't want that at all. Ivy looked like she was near to tears. I can't blame her. She'd just tagged along for a little "harmless" team bullying, and suddenly ponies were talking about charging for assault and other big-league stuff.
"Quiet!" Miss Persimmon's voice cut across the schoolyard, leaving it quiet enough to hear a pin drop. She pointed a hoof at the two bullies. "All right. You two, back in the classroom, now.. We've got a few things to talk about, and I'll need to write up notes to send home to your parents."
"But..!" is all Vanilla Sweet got out before the teacher's glare cut her back down to size. The two of them slunk off back towards the school, ears and tails drooping low.
"Do you need me to stick around too, ma'am?" I asked.
Miss Persimmon was surprised. "I... No. That's all right, dear. I'll talk to you tomorrow to make sure that what they tell me matches up with your version of things. I want to make sure nothing gets left out." I nodded and started walking away. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention!" she called after me. I hesitated, then waved over my shoulder.
"You got it," I said.
I'd only been walking less than a minute before I realized that I'd picked up a shadow.
"What's up?" I said, turning to face her.
Plum Pudding squeaked in surprise.
"I... um... I can't believe you told on them. That was so brave!"
"Why was it brave?" I asked. "Keeping the students in line is part of a teacher's job. Only a bad teacher would ignore bullying when she had her nose rubbed in it."
Miss Persimmon was many things, but she wasn't a bad teacher. I'd known more or less how things would go down before I even talked to her.
"Yeah, but... aren't you afraid it's going to get worse, now?"
It was going to be worse. I knew for a fact that I wasn't done with those two, not yet. But that didn't matter. You do what you have to do, then you pay the price for it.
"There's not much they can do to me," I said. "If they hit me, I go back to the teacher. If they tease me and it's bad enough, I go back to the teacher. And, after having been caught bullying once, it's going to go even harder on them the next time."
"Yeah, but..."
"It shouldn't have been me, though."
That caught her flat-hooved. She looked at me, confused.
"I mean, you should have told the teacher right away. You're the one who got clobbered."
"I couldn't! I mean, what if—"
I stopped walking and faced her, cutting her off neatly mid-sentence. "'What if', what? What if she hit you? She already did that. You don't let anypony raise a hoof to you without consequences, Plum Pudding. That's a sure way to end up a doormat the rest of your life."
"So, what?" She seemed miffed, now. "I should have hit her back? She would have pulverized me!"
"No. You do what I did. It's Miss Persimmon's job to take care of things like this." I started walking away, shaking my head. "I just don't get why you wouldn't do that."
She simmered behind me for a little while. "That's easy for you to say!" she said, mad as a wet cat. She trotted up next to me, still steaming. "You're grown-up, really. I'm just a filly! It's not so easy!"
I grinned at her. "Thanks, kid."
Confusion skittered across her face from the sudden change in conversational direction. "For what?"
"You believe me when I say I'm a grown-up."
"You have to be," she said resolutely. "You're just too weird to be a normal filly."
I couldn't help it. I just laughed. The first time I'd really laughed in days. After a minute, she started laughing too. I felt a part of myself give in. In spite of myself, I'd gained a friend. I could only hope that she knew what she was in for.