After Pinkie drove us to school, we made our way to the cafeteria, where we greeted Miss Smith.
"Rainbow Dash," she began. "And you brought your...parent?"
Pinkie touched a hand to her chest. "I'm widowed."
"Oh, I'm so sorry," Miss Smith said sincerely. I scampered away, trying to avoid an awkward moment.
I stood by the punch table, getting snacks and drinks for me and Pinkie.
"Hello, Rainbow Dash."
"Taylor." By now, I didn't even have to see her face to know it was her. I turned around anyway. Taylor stood near a shorter girl with dark hair that covered her face. The shorter girl held a laptop with a webcam of a woman in a white lab coat.
"There's somebody I want you to meet," Taylor said to her mother.
"And this is the horse-woman from the news that you've been going on and on about? What country is she from?"
"Prob'ly Canada," the shorter girl mumbled. "Weirdos."
I excused myself and walked away. I saw Pinkie speaking with another mom. "What's goin' on?" I asked.
"My mom won't shut up about me," a boy pouted. "It's really embarrassing."
"At least she's not showing the pictures," his older sister replied.
"And you've just gotta see these pictures!" their mom exclaimed. She pulled out her phone and flipped through the pictures. Pinkie just stared, a blank, cloudy look in her eyes. The first picture was of the boy playing soccer.
"Sports aren't everything. A growing child needs more than just competition," Pinkie recited. I nodded.
"That's true," the mother replied. She pulled out a tray. "Would you like some chocolate chip cookies? Freshly baked just for the occasion!"
"Thank you!" Pinkie said, reaching for one. "You know, sugar tends to make children hyper and can lead to obesity."
The mother nodded, almost looking terrified. "Well, yeah..."
Pinkie took a bite out of one of the cookies, then spit it out in disgust.
The boy's mother scoffed. "How dare you spit out my cookies!"
"You don't use enough baking soda," Pinkie said. She immediately became distracted and grabbed the woman's hair. "Who's your stylist?"
I gasped. What exactly was in that video I showed Pinkie?
A crowd began to form around Pinkie and the boy's mom. I weaseled my way through and tapped Pinkie's shoulder. "Mom, we should really go home right now!"
Pinkie turned around, a dark look in her eyes. "Don't tell me what to do! Go to your room!" Suddenly, Pinkie picked me up and dunked me into the punch bowl. She walked away, ready to speak to the boy's mom again.
I pulled myself out of the punch bowl and a teacher came up to me. "Is your mom alright?"
"Uh, just dandy," I replied. I giggled nervously and walked away, back to the place where Pinkie was furiously demanding to follow the boy's mother on Pinterest.
"I signed in with Facebook!" Pinkie continued to repeat. "Do you have a Facebook account?"
I made it through the crowd again and began yanking Pinkie's arm. "We really have to go! Right now! Please!"
Pinkie turned around, looking cheerful yet disturbing. "You're upset!"
I nodded. "Yeah! Take me home!"
"Oh, I know what will cheer you up!" Pinkie pulled out a Beats pill speaker from nowhere. She activated it with her phone and began to play music loudly. "Everybody, do the Harlem Shake!" she shouted.
I suddenly fell to the ground, screaming and spazzing loudly. "Ow! My limbs! Help!"
Pinkie turned off the speaker and phone. "I think it's time we took you home," she said. Pinkie picked me up in a cradle position and walked me out to the car. The position was really babyish, but after the crazy night I had, it helped me sleep really soundly. And I slept all the way home.