Orange Picker and Nectar ran across the street. The school was only a few blocks away in front of them, near the center of the town that sat on top of the hill. Stores catered to every fruit filled every street corner, and even the houses were more fruit markets than homes. The number of buildings outnumbered the actual ponies in the town by two to one. The air was much warmer than at the cliff. The two fillies, mostly Nectar, struggled to breathe from the warm air. “I still can’t believe you got me to go. I know I'm gonna regret this later," Orange Picker said. She took a breath after every syllable.
“Q-Quickly. We’re almost there,” Nectar said.
They both made the final push to the school. As they ran the townsponies all stared at Orange Picker. It wasn’t a glare of hatred or anger, but a stare one would give a new species or creature nopony had ever seen before. She made sure not to stare back and kept her eyes pointed in front of her. “They’ll see…”
The two fillies stopped in front of the school’s front door. OP hid her anger and took a deep breath. Nectar opened the door. On the other side was a classroom, even hotter than the outside, full of fillies and colts talking and laughing. Their bodies and manes shined with every possible color and combination. Orange Picker by comparison looked as generic as could be with her all orange pattern, with her injuries being the only thing that set her apart from the crowd appearance wise. Even her voice was forgetful, especially compared to the chatter of the room where even the quietest pony could be heard and recognized.
The class turned to the two fillies and froze in silence. Hoofsteps came from the back of room. Ms. Blossom, an orange earth pony mare with glasses, walked to the two fillies. She had her usual teacher smile and stared at Orange Picker's injures. “There you are Orange Picker. We’ve all been waiting for you.” OP gave her a death glare. Miss Blossom continued smiling, completely oblivious. She turned to Nectar. “Thanks for finding her Nectar. Always appreciated.”
“You're welcome Ms. B,” Nectar said, smiling. She walked to one of the desks and sat down. Orange Picker didn’t move.
“Please go to your seat Orange Picker. I have a special surprise for you all and you’ve kept us all waiting long enough as it is,” Ms. Blossom said.
OP walked to one of the desks. She still gave a death glare. As she walked the students around her giggled and whispered among themselves. “She’s so gonna get in trouble,” one colt said.
“I wonder how long her parents are gonna ground her for this?” said a filly.
“How can she walk with all those cuts?” said another.
Orange Picker sat down and tried her hardest not to break the desk in two. It was harder than jumping off any cliff.
Ms. Blossom cleared her throat. “Alright class, I have a quite a treat for you today. For those of you who don’t know, which I’m sure is nopony here because I know you all always pay attention, I’m giving a big and exciting presentation. Can any of you tell me what it’s on?” She looked around the room.
Nectar raised her hoof. “Cutie marks.”
“Good job Nectar. Somepony’s been paying attention,” Ms. Blossom turned to the rest of the class. “Today’s presentation is about cutie marks. But before I begin, I want to see how much you all already know about them. So who here can tell me what a cutie mark is?”
A colt raised his hoof. “Butt tattoos” he screamed out. The class erupted with laughter, as did Ms. Blossom. Orange Picker stayed silent with her hooves crossed. She glared at Nectar for getting her to go to class.
“You are technically correct, Pear Seed, but can someone go into more detail please?” Ms. Blossom said.
A filly raised her hoof. “Well according to my older sister they tell you what you’re good at.”
“Close. But it could still be better. Allow me to explain,” Ms. Blossom said, still smiling.
Orange Picker sighed. “And the horseshit begins.”
Ms. Blossom walked around the room. She went between the rows of desks. “Cutie marks are special symbols that appear on everypony. They’re unique to everypony, and only appear when a pony has discovered their special talent, a skill or idea that makes them special and unique. Everypony is born with a special talent.” The class was in a trance from their teacher’s words. They all stared at her with their eyes twice as big and mouths opened. Orange Picker felt like throwing up. “I’ve prepared my own story as an example of the process and to clear any confusion.” Ms. Blossom walked to her desk in the front of the room and pulled out a board from underneath it. She put it on top of the desk. On the board were pictures of her younger self, in fashion styles that’d make her a social outcast in the present. She pointed to one of them. “This is me when I was your age. And yes I regret wearing that.” She chuckled. “This was back when I was what’s called a blank flank, or a pony without a cutie mark.”
Ms. Blossom pointed to another picture, one of her helping a colt study. Her eyes were red in the picture, even more than the colt’s. “Ever since I can remember, I’ve loved helping other ponies—even more than helping myself. Seeing others live up to their potential just made me happy. I can’t explain why; it just did.” She pointed to another picture, one of a filly crying over getting last place in a race. “I never thought much of it until one day…” She pointed to another picture, this time of the filly hugging her, with a first place ribbon around her neck. “When I realized that helping other ponies was my special talent and purpose in life and my cutie mark appeared.” She showed off her cutie mark, a purple flower, to the class. The class stretched their heads towards it and stared at it like it was meaning of life itself. Orange Picker chuckled.
“Nice plot,” she said.
Ms. Blossom removed her backside from view. “Ever since that day my life had meaning. I ended up becoming a teacher to help as many young fillies and colts reach their full potential as I could.” The class smiled.
Ms. Blossom pointed to a framed picture of Princess Celestia on the wall. “The Princess’s special talent for example is raising the entire sun. I can only imagine how she figured that out.” Orange Picker glared at the picture. “But I warn you, getting your cutie mark is not something you can rush. It’s a process, not a goal. You will have to be patient, but trust me when I say the process is rewarding. I still remember the day I got my cutie mark as the best day of my life. In fact, the only day that was better was…well actually let’s just forget about that last part.” Ms. Blossom blushed and chuckled.
She walked to the center of the room. “So who here’s excited about getting their cutie mark?” she screamed. The class paused. A second later everypony in the room erupted into a frenzy of applause and cheer. The collective sound of their applause shook the room and their yells were as loud as a jackhammer. Ms. Blossom smiled and cheered herself. Orange Picker remained silent and shook her head.
"Have fun wasting your lives." She wasn’t surprised in the least and kept her jaw clenched to calm herself.
Ms. Blossom made a megaphone with her hooves. “Now that’s the spirit.”
The class cheered louder. Conversations started all across the room. “I can’t wait to get my cutie mark,” one colt said.
“My special talent is definitely gonna be something cool,” screamed another.
Orange Picker shook in her desk but kept her mouth shut. She tried to tune out the noise around her, but couldn’t. With every passing second the class grew louder and Orange Picker's head burned with ever greater anger. A group of fillies next to her started drawing cutie marks on their backsides with markers. It was the last straw. She snapped.
OP slammed her desk and broke it in two. The class stopped talking and turned to her. They froze. Ms. Blossom walked to her. “Orange Picker…w-what is wrong with you?”
Orange Picker got up. “Sorry. Actually no, I’m not sorry. I’m not putting up with this horse anymore.”
Ms. Blossom put her hoof over her mouth and gasped. “Where did you learn words like that? I think it’s time for-.”
“This whole cutie mark special talent so called presentation pisses me off, and I’m not just gonna sit idly by and watch everypony else be conditioned like dogs,” Orange Picker said.
Ms. Blossom paused with her mouth open. The rest of the class didn’t say a word. “What are you talking about?” she screamed.
“Oh you know what I’m talking about.” Orange Picker pointed at her. “You act all high and mighty giving your speech and act like there isn’t any other viewpoint out there. But guess what? Not everypony wants to get their cutie mark. You ever thought about that?”
Ms. Blossom and the class gasped. She lowered her voice. “Look, I don’t know who’s been telling you these things-.”
“Why does anypony have to tell me? These are my views, and the views of many other ponies if they hadn’t been trained from day one to blindly love cutie marks and destiny.”
Ms. Blossom moved her hoof towards Orange Picker. “Orange Picker. I love that you’re so passionate about your views, but you seem to be confused.”
Orange Picker slapped her hoof away. “Of course I’m confused,” she said sarcastically. “I’m gonna change things one day. Remember that.” She turned to Nectar. “And I don't lie.” She walked to the door. “So why don’t you tell your Princess that.”
Orange Picker slammed the door, and left the building.