//------------------------------// // Chapter 1 – Pace of The Heart // Story: Why Can't We Find Home? // by Tyc oon //------------------------------// The aggression of hoofsteps pacing in the hallway tripled with the chime of a bell; several textbooks clattered onto the floor, a tragedy in the distance of another's reality, and the harmonics of hinges in activity with lockers banging closed mixed into a permeated cacophony. The atmosphere of the highschool was instantaneously ubiquitous and could be epitomized simply by ‘chaotic,’ as if an impending nuclear threat was announced. Despite the hell that had broken loose behind me, I stepped into my classroom calmly. The assigned novel for the class rested in my saddlebag, and it was accompanied by a perfectly organized notebook. However, I had no plans to use the former of the two. I had read the book before, and already finished re-reading it the night before this class; I had my sights set on different interests. I smiled at my teacher, Mr. Ren, as I trotted past and took my seat. He was professional and respectable with his job, but my skill in the subject he taught had already extended beyond the point of being able to learn anything new here. I drew my notebook with the intention of ignoring the entire lesson and writing elsewhere for the duration of the class. Several minutes later, the bell rang; most of the class had successfully beaten the deadline, while a seat beside me and two more on the other side of the room remained vacant. It was nearly torture as I resisted the temptation to roll my eyes at the sight of two more stallions carelessly trotting in a couple seconds later and going to their seats, but I kept calm, not wanting to offend someone I didn’t know well enough. I waited in patient but apprehensive silence, looking everywhere expect the location that I knew the next source of action would come from. Unfortunately, I didn’t have to wait very long. With several hoof clops on the floor, the mare trotted in with a naughty strut, glancing over the classroom and artificially yawning. “Hello there colts, Chelsea is in the building.” She smirked boldly, cantering and trotting over to her desk beside me with a typically ignominious attitude. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. My forehead hit the desk roughly as I let out a pained sigh and rolled my eyes. I could already foresee the crap I was going to have to tolerate from this mare today. Earlier, I told myself I wouldn’t go one more day beside her, but couldn’t find the confidence or selfishness to request that my seat was changed. In all honesty, I would’ve hated giving my sympathies to whoever would take my seat. To summarize Literature class, I loved the subject and teacher, but hated the companionship. Of all ponies, I ended up being subjected to sitting beside the school’s most notoriously beautiful yet relentlessly cocky mare. The event wasn’t as good as it sounded, and to transfer it to more realistic terms, I was sitting beside an obnoxious pervert that didn’t understand the concept of ‘no.’ Thud. With my head still down, I heard someone slam a book on my desk. If Chelsea had just done that, I was going to be utterly unimpressed, and there was no sense in attempting to hide it on my expression. Knowing my lu- The most irritating voice I’d ever known to exist rang out loudly again. “Why aren’t you checking me out? Like, the hell? Aren’t I just gorgeous? Hey!” As I brought my head up to regard the voice a few feet in front of me, I didn’t have the time to flinch or make an attempt at defending myself. She started to… She was… She… …Kissing me. With quick realization, I hit Chelsea, shoving her back by the shoulders. The entire class was watching with us like some kind of cheap entertainment, and I was instantly furious for a variety of reasons. The least being that no one, the teacher included, was doing anything about this, and the most being this event itself. I stood up, unleashing scorching rage. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” Chelsea smirked again, pleased to be finally receiving my attention, and conjured up a histrionic expression of repulsion. “What’s wrong with me? I’m the most beautiful mare in the school, and I can get any guy I want whenever I want. Do you have a problem with that, you loser?” I stepped forward and closer, looking her in the eyes with genuine disgust. “Yeah, I’ve got a problem!” I shouted, advancing as I slammed a hoof down on the floor, and continued raging. “You’re an immature, incompetent, and dogmatically narcissistic prick with no moral integrity or intellectual standards. You disregard your education, seduce every guy you see, and make a conscious attempt to piss everyone off. While you’re just an exhibitionist, I am a fictional novel writer, environmentalist, pacifist, antivivisectionist, arcane verbalist, and pragmatist. I have a dedicated interest in literature and psychology, I’ve never done drugs, I’m chaste, I have honors in every class, and I have moral standards. You don’t deserve a stallion as virtuous as me, and it’s a freezing cold day in hell if you think you’re going to get me.” The entire group of grade twelve literature ponies gazed at me in utter shock, some looking in impressed awe at the display of rebellion to a dictator, while others didn’t portray a lucidly legible facial expression. I picked up my notebook and copy of the assigned novel with a hoof, trotting over to the door and stopping with my books now in my saddlebags. “I’ve already read this entire book twice through, so I’d rather spend time working on my own. Mr. Ren, expect me to attend on the day of the exam, but honesty, I could be the one teaching this class if I wanted to. Attending it is of no importance to me. Thank you for your effort with me.” I began to take the exit, but a student in the class called out, halting me. “Wait!” The only thing that made me stop was the acknowledgement that the voice belonged to the only pony in the room that I actually had a legitimate amount of respect for. I turned my head towards Taser, but not enough to particularly look at anyone. I did, however, notice Chelsea frozen in place with her muzzle gaping open. “Scatter," He continued you ask. "What you said is all true, but you’ve been confessed to by mares that aren’t like Chelsea; I’m just speculating, but I don’t think you’re rejecting her for the reasons you just listed. I demand to know why you’ve turned down the better mares too!” Another bystander tilted his head curiously. “Hey yeah, I’d like to hear the answer to that too.” Several more whispers and mutters were passed around the room. I turned my head back towards the door, and finally began to leave in peace; there was no point in keeping it a secret anymore, and there would certainly be no going back. Hopefully, I wouldn't regret what I was about to say. “I’m a coltcuddler.”