Blah.
Another day of sitting at the back of that confining little classroom in that confining little desk,with no room to stretch or do anything fun at all.But hey, that's school. All there is to it. Still, the whole small thing is a little offensive. Everything for us fillies is small. Irritatingly small. Like everyone wants to make our world as tiny as possible so we don't know how much cooler everything else is compared to being trapped in a room with 20 other fillies and a pony scrawling words on the blackboard while rambling about something completely unnecessary. Take today, for instance. Synonyms? What pony would really need to know what synonyms were?
Synonyms are words that mean the same thing. Sound easy enough. What would be a synonym for Scootaloo? Probably blank-flank, uncool, or something else completely non-awesome. Yep, that's me. I begin to think about the pony that is the complete opposite of that description. Yeah, its Rainbow Dash. Not only is she the best flyer in all of Equestria, she is an amazing friend and the best mentor anypony could hope for. I want to be just like her. Sometimes, it seems like RD is the only pony that understands me. But sometimes not even she, or the Cutie Mark Crusaders, do.
Instead of lingering onto my pathetic little sob story, I decide to focus. Focus. Focus. Why is it called focusing anyways? Who would have come up with a dumb word like "focus?" Maybe there was a pony named "focus" way back that was really concentrated, and everypony...
No Scootaloo.I tell myself. Focus.
I decide to concentrate on the ponies around me first. Just, ya know, to warm up for the real thing. Next to me is one of my two best friends, Sweetie Belle. Her green eyes were fixated on Ms. Cheerilee, like she was really interested in this waste of time. Sweetie Belle had a way of being nice to everyone, it was uncanny. Her pastel-colored mane is curled to perfection, perfectly contrasting her white fur. Sure, she looks cute and all, but that must have taken hours. Probably Rarity's doing. On my other side is my other BFF, Apple Bloom. Almost the complete opposite of Sweetie, her bright reddish mane was combed casually her fur is rich and cream-colored, and her pinkish-orange eyes wander the classroom aimlessly. The similarity between us three is the absence of, well, anyhting on our flanks. And all of us want it. Bad. That's how the Cutie Mark Crusaders was formed. Not much success so far, but I wouldn't call it a complete failure.
I turn again. All around the classroom are the ponies I grew up knowing: Snips and Snails, up to their usual antics, Twist and Alula, looking indifferent, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, giggling, as always, and...Rumble... For some reason, I look at Rumble for a moment longer. His grey mane looks windswept and untidy, and he is paying attention to Miss Cheerily. He always did. I sigh. I am no good at anything.
Then, everyone turns. They're looking at me expectantly, little eyes boring into my skin as though waiting for me to say or do something wrong. Oh no, What did I miss?
"Um, Hello, everypony..." I say uncertainly. A little giggle erupts from behind me, quickly followed by another. I don't even have to look to know exactly the source of the obnoxious laughter. As Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon continue to snicker, I take a deep breath. Fillies could be so judgmental. Especially fillies who are trying to be teenagers, as in giggling-all-the-time, dating-colts, making-fun-of-classmates, too-cool-for-school teenagers. "Um, could you repeat the question?"
Ms Cheerilee sighs. "Girls, please," she silences the two giggling fillies before they can burst out into wholehearted laughter. "Scootaloo, can you tell me what an antonym is?" Technically, I was listening. Well, I was hearing, not really listening...
"Um... well, its a...well, it's sorta a cross between a..."
Suddenly, a loud noise rescued me. As soon as the recess bell began ringing, all the fillies jumped to their hooves and began filing out of the classroom.
"Scootaloo, could you stay with me for a moment?" The Earth pony teacher had that serious look in her green eyes. I swallow and walk up to her desk slowly. This cannot be good.
"See you.. umm.. afterwards, Scoots." Says Sweetie Belle awkwardly before following Apple Bloom and the rest out to the recess playground.
A nervous silence fills the air with tension as Ms Cheerilee set down the last of her graded papers, lining the dges up neatly and finally looking up at me in a businesslike manner. "Scootaloo, we need to talk about your grades." Said Ms Cheerilee, her kind voice peircing to my ears. I swallow. This really cannot be good.
"What do I have, Ms Cheerilee?" I brace myself. Last semester was a 70%, so hopefully I didn't get a lot lower than that.
"You currently have a 60% in this class, Scootaloo." Eek. Now that was an all-time low. Sky Rider and Storm Sleeper had not been overly excited the last time their daughter had brought home a nearly failing report card. But at least that was a C. I was always able to at least get a passing grade, even if I wasn't the ideal student. This is...a D!? That means that--
"Unless you can somehow get that grade up in the next few weeks, you won't have a passing grade in this class, Scootaloo. I would recommend... I would recommend looking into getting a tutor." A tutor!? No way, is she serious? Tutors are for dumb ponies who don't know the first thing about the world. Sound like you, huh, Scootaloo? My brain says to me. My brain tends to be mean like that. I don't think it likes me very much.
"Ummm... Okay?" I say, just to be polite, ready to bolt out the door and be done with this whole thing.
"Maybe you could have Sweetie Belle help you," Ms Cheerilee suggests. Now there's an idea... But no, that would mean admitting to Sweetie that I have a 60%. Sure, honesty is great and all, but some things a pony just didn't want her friends to know. Plus, that would still be a tutor.A friend, but still a tutor. Meh. I'm way too awesome for that.
"Okay, sure, Ms Cheerilee, its just--"
Abruptly, the door flew open and a little grey colt walked in, carrying a book in his saddlebag. His tiny wings were folded to his back, and he looks surprised to see me there, even though he must have heard Ms Cheerilee tell me to stay in with her. Every filly in Equestria probably heard that.Look away, Scootaloo I think to myself as Rumble stands awkwardly at the doorway.and don't blush, oh please, oh please, don't blush, Scootaloo
"Well, you should be getting back to your friends now, Scootaloo," Ms Cheerilee dismisses, looking at Rumble.
"Okay." I make a relieved dash toward the doorway. "Thanks Ms Cheerilee!" I say, pushing past Rumble while my face grows hotter and hotter. If I had darker fur, would they be able to notice how red I am right now?
I am halfway down the stairs leading out into the schoolyard when I skidded to a halt. What was rumble doing there? I wonder. It was kind of weird for a pony to come in during recess without detention. I mean, colts are weird and all, but Rumble is, well, different. Why do you care so much? My brain seemed to be at conflict with itself, until my curiosity gets the best of me and I rush back to the doorway, using my wings to make my footsetps quieter. Pressing my ear to the door, I hear Rumble's voice complaining.
"Why can't I stay in here and read?" He whines
"Because, Rumble, you need to start facing your classmates." Replies the steady tone of Ms Cheerilee's voice.
"But, I don't need to, Ms Cheerilee." Rumble continues to complain.
"Rumble, you know that that's not true. Don't you feel lonely when all the other fillies are with their friends?"
"But, I don't want to have friends!" He protests. "Besides, they don't like me anyway. Who cares about a dumb blank-flank who just likes to read?"
"Rumble, I don't want to hear you say the word 'dumb' in my classroom. Especially about yourself. You are special in many ways, they just don't realise it. Maybe they would if you tried being friendly to them. Maybe you need to realise that too."
"I doubt it." He says sadly.
"You know, you aren't the only one in the class who hasn't gotten a cutie mark yet." My ears perk up. She must be talking about the cutie mark crusaders. "You could talk to Scootaloo, Apple Bloom or Sweetie Belle. I'm sure they would be delighted to have a colt like you as their friend." Blushing. A lot. She said my name first! My brain screams. Who cares? the other side of my brain retorts.
"I'm just... a lot better with school than with ponies, that's all."
"Why don't you just give it a shot?"
"If you say so." The young colts footsteps were halfway to the door when I realized that he was about to come back outside. I run down the stairs and join Sweetie and Bloom at the playground. But there's something wrong with my stomach, something between nervous and elated. Like floating.