“Well, that’s the last of it!” said Applejack, dusting off her hands and returning to the platform that had served as the main stage of the Cake Festival. “We got all the display stands and tables and stuff on the truck.”
“Tents struck?” said Pinkie Pie, from her spot on the stage.
“Check!” said Cheese, who stood next to her, referring to a clipboard. “Bouncy castle deflated?”
“Check,” said Pinkie Pie, and sighed.
“Check,” said Cheese.
“Dunk tank drained?”
“Drained and struck. Check.”
“Speakers packed up?”
“Yep,” said Cheese, “although those things need to go to the shop. And possibly to the landfill. Looks like that’s everything, Boss.” He stashed the clipboard in his hair, and walked over the extra tent cloths where he’d left his backpack.
Pinkie Pie sighed again, and sat down on the edge of the stage. “I’m gonna miss being boss.”
Applejack sat next to her. “Look at it this way, Sugarcube. After this, no one can say you’re not Pinkie Responsibility Pie. You did a beautiful job, cousin. I am so proud,” she said, giving Pinkie a hug.
“Hear, hear!” said Rarity.
“Even if nobody kinda remembers anything about a whole lot of it,” Rainbow Dash reminded them, rolling her eyes.
“They’ll remember they had a splendid time, Rainbow Dash,” retorted Rarity, “which they certainly did. The—ah—little improvisations don’t really matter. There are bound to be a few boo-boos.”
“Yup!” agreed Applejack. “Remember, you’re the cook and no one hasta know, as Granny Smith said when she dropped the turkey last Hearth’s Warming.”
Fluttershy finished counting through the cash donation boxes. “So much money for the animal rescue and for the whales, too! Oh, I’m so thrilled. I could just cheer!”
“I couldn’t really hear that,” said Rainbow Dash, after her friend had expressed her enthusiasm, “but I’m happy you’re happy. Say, uh—where’s the squirt? Is she ok?”
“Granny’s been lookin’ after her,” Applejack reassured her. “Nothing’s broken.”
“Yeah, it wouldn’t be,” said Rainbow Dash bitterly. “It’s all tendons and soft tissue, and it took her forever to bounce back from it last year.”
“I think she’ll be ok this time,” said Fluttershy hesitantly. “I mean, I know I only work with animals and I’m just a tech, but I did look at her, and maybe this time a week or two of rest and some ice and some stretching will be enough. The doctor’s going to look at her on Monday. You really may be able to take her with you and the Comets to Cowperstown this summer, Rainbow.”
“Darn right she’s coming with us,” growled Dash. “She’s coming along whether she can play or not. I promised.”
“Well, she can’t be feeling that bad,” Applejack said, “because Big Mac tried to take her home and she insisted on coming with Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom to Sweet Apple Acres for the after-party.”
“After-party!” squeaked Pinkie, bouncing up from where she sat. “How come no one told me?”
“ Because it was supposed to be a surprise for you, darling,” replied Rarity. “We thought you deserved one after all your hard work.”
“It’s more of a get-together than a party,” said Applejack. “Just a couple of pies and some cold cider and a chance to put our feet up. Big Mac’s running Granny and the kids home, and then he’s coming back for us—if we’re really all done, that is. What happens to the stuff that’s left?”
“We’ve got some movers coming in tomorrow to take away the heavy stuff,” said Cheese, rejoining them, placing his accordion on the stage, and sliding up onto the stage next to Pinkie. “The tent company’s coming to get the tents; same with the bouncy castle.” He swung his backpack next to him with a heavy thud.
“Geez, Cheesie,” said Pinkie. “What have you got in there?”
“Change of clothes,” he replied, “joy buzzers, inflatable fish, stuff like that. And about four weeks of mail.”
“Four weeks?” said Applejack. “Don’t you ever open it?”
“I was busy,” Cheese said, with an attempt at dignity. “And sometimes I just don’t want to be bothered with it. But if you insist . . .” he went on, opening up the backpack.
“ I was just fooling with you, Cheese. You don’t really have to open it now,” said Applejack.
“Oh, why not?” said Cheese, cheerfully dumping a stack of mail on the stage. “I’ll just forget it when I’m back at home, and maybe there’s something funny in there. You never know. Let’s see,” he said, riffling through it. “Junk, junk, junk . . . . ‘you may have won a prize’ . . . junk . . . mortgage refinancing—Manchego, who makes these mailing lists?—junk, junk . . . postcard! ‘Greatly concerned to hear of your . . .’ yup, that’s from my mother, all right. ‘Blah blah blah Pranceton.’ Pfft. As if. ‘Blah blah disappointment blah.’” He tossed the postcard aside.
“What’s the picture?” said Pinkie, glancing at it.
“Monument commemorating the victims of a cholera outbreak, apparently,” Cheese replied. “Junk, junk, junk . . . letter from the school.” He ripped it open. “‘Please clear out your locker, etc. . . .’—oops. I forgot that the school year’s over—‘owing to the severance of your ties with CHS.’ Huh?” He rumpled his hair. “Usually when I’m expelled, they tell me in person. Wow.” His eye fell on his mother’s postcard. “If she’s heard about that, no wonder she’s disappointed. And I’m really—I’m out of luck.”
Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy exchanged glances. “Now, don’t you go expecting the worst,” said Applejack. “I’m sure if you were expelled, Vice Principal Luna would’ve told you. She ain’t exactly shy. There’s gotta be another letter in there.”
Cheese glanced at the letter again. “Yeah, you’re right. It actually does refer to a previous letter. Um . . . let’s see. Here we go. It’s from Vice Principal Luna. ‘Inasmuch as you have completed the required credit hours, and have taken equivalency exit examinations on which you have received a passing grade, you have formally graduated from Canterlot High School, and your academic career with us comes to an end.’ Wait, what? I graduated?”
Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash exchanged another glance. “We were kinda wondering about that,” said Rainbow Dash.
“Cousin Snowy graduated last week,” explained Fluttershy, “and of course the whole family was there. It was so much hard work for him and we’re all very proud.”
“And of course, Soarin invited me and a bunch of the Wondercolts. So we saw the program, and we saw your name on it, and we were going to ask . . .”
“But you never said anything,” finished Fluttershy, “so we decided not to.”
“Wow,” said Cheese slowly. “That explains a few things, like how rough those exams were. And I remember that day in her office when I got suspended, I said I just wanted this to be over, and she said, ‘that’s entirely possible.’ Those weren’t finals. Those were equivalency exams.”
“You graduated! That’s awesome!” yelled Rainbow Dash. She raced over and held up her hand. “High five!”
“Yeah,” said Cheese, absently holding up his hand so that Rainbow Dash missed it completely. “I guess I just wasn’t expecting it. I don’t know how to feel.”
“I’ll tell you how you feel,” said Rainbow Dash in annoyance. “You feel great, because you graduated and it’s awesome and it’s over.”
“Yeah, exactly,” said Cheese, shaking his head. “To be honest, I was enjoying going to school with you guys. Anyway, it’s one thing my mother can’t complain about, although I’m sure she’ll find a way.” He rummaged through some more mail. “Uh-huh. It’s an actual letter this time. ‘Blah blah blah Pranceton’—geez, what is it with my mother and Pranceton? Learn to live with disappointment, lady; it’s already one of your favorite words. ‘Blah blah blah assignment over, transfer, relocation . . .’ ” He froze. The letter fell from his hand, and he dropped his head into his hands.
“What?” prompted Pinkie, but Cheese didn’t seem to be able to continue, or even to move.
“Cheese?” said Applejack. “Can I have a look at that?” He said nothing, and Applejack picked up the letter and read. “‘While I am pleasantly surprised by your graduation and acceptance at Pranceton, I am deeply disappointed in your Aunt Mela’s supervision, your reported behavior, and your activities, and feel you require closer monitoring in the immediate future. Since our tours are ending at the same time and our assignments are over, we are permanently relocating to Manehattan. By the time you receive this, we should be properly settled, at which time your father and I will collect you from your Aunt Mela’s and bring you home.’”
No one said anything, until Cheese raised his head in a cry of utter despair. “Home? Where’s THAT?”
~~
Cheese sat on the edge of the stage alone. He looked out at the struck tents, the disassembled dunk tank, and the deflated bouncy castle: almost everything he’d worked on for the last few months. Tomorrow it would be gone, as though it had never happened, and in a few days, so would he.
From somewhere behind him, he could hear Applejack and Pinkie talking. Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash had already left. Then he heard one set of footsteps fading away and another set coming back.
“Cheesie?” said Pinkie. “Applejack had to go, but she said she’d come right back with the truck whenever we’re ready. She said she’ll take you home or to Sweet Apple Acres or wherever you want. Are you ok? Cheesie?”
He tried to force himself to smile and say something funny, or at least, “yeah, I’m fine,” but he was afraid that his voice would break and give him away. He just sat there, his elbows on his knees and his chin supported by his hands, looking at nothing.
He could hear Pinkie running over with quick little steps. She hoisted herself onto the stage and sat next to him. For a moment, he thought he felt her hand just barely brushing his hair, but then she placed it on his back and patted it.
“Aw, Cheesie, please don’t be sad,” she said. “I don’t like seeing you sad. And you’re not allowed to be sad on your birthday.”
He sat up with a jerk. “How did you find out it was my birthday?” he said.
“I didn’t find out,” she corrected. “I remembered.”
His jaw dropped. She went on, “That was the first party I ever threw for anyone who wasn’t family, plus we almost never had a chance to play with other children, and I had so much fun. Of course I remembered you. I just didn’t know you were you. You got a whole lot taller and your voice changed a lot and you stopped wearing glasses, and I never heard you playing the accordion that one time, plus you forgot to mention your name.” Cheese smacked his face with his palm. “It took me a while to recognize you, Cheesie, but I’ve never forgotten your birthday. I wish I’d said ‘happy birthday’ earlier today, but I guess it’s even better if saying ‘happy birthday’ cheers you up more now.”
He looked straight at her—really looked at her: at the round, pretty pink face, and the wide, wide blue eyes, blue as the summer sky, surrounded by curly black lashes. He tried to read what was in them, but couldn’t. “You really remembered me? That long?”
“Of course,” she said.
Looking at her face-to-face was too hard. It was like looking directly into the sun. He dropped his eyes to his lap.
“Well,” he murmured, “I certainly remembered you.”
Her hand was flat on the stage, right next to his. He might have only a day or two to spend with her, maybe only hours. And it felt wrong not to tell her now—almost as though he were lying, something he was trying to quit. And, he added to himself, at least it’ll all be over in a day or two. Even a guy as gutless as you should be able to handle a day or two after she tells you that she doesn’t love you. Because if she did, you’d already know.
He slid his hand over hers and held it. He forced himself not to grip it for courage, but he still couldn’t look directly at her. He kept his eyes fixed in front of him, and took a long, shaky breath.
“Pinkie,” he said, and then he had to clear his throat and start over. “Pinkie, I, um . . . ” He took another deep breath. “I love you. I love you so much that it hurts. And the crazy part is that I think I always have. I even kept the balloons you gave me as a birthday present. I’ve had them in my wallet this whole time. I mean, that’s crazy, isn’t it? Love at first sight? With someone you met once, as a kid? Nobody would believe something like that. But I think it’s true. The second I heard your voice. . . it felt like one of those videos where the dog gets reunited with his family and rolls over making those whistling noises. It was so embarrassing, but I was so happy to see you again that I didn’t even care. Anyway.”
Try not to grip her hand, stupid. This is bad enough without hurting her. He dropped his head, swallowed, and made himself go on. “Anyway, I’m sure that even if I hadn’t met you back then, I would still have fallen in love with you. The more I know you, the more amazing I think you are. I’ve never met anyone who understood laughter the way you do, or who was so true and really themselves: just Pinkie Pie, all the way through. And you’re an unbelievably hard worker. I really liked working with you, because finally I was working with someone who cared about the things I cared about and wanted to get them right. And you’re the most sensible girl I’ve ever met. And you make me laugh.”
And you’re so beautiful, and you get more beautiful every day. I don’t understand why there aren’t traffic accidents when you ride your bike or walk down the street. And you smell amazing. And, and, and.
“So, anyway, Pinkie, I know I promised not to keep any more big secrets from you. I’m really sorry, and I hope you won’t be mad about it. I just thought it might be unpleasant for you working with me on the Cake Festival if you knew. But anyway, that’s over, and I’m leaving soon, so it doesn’t matter very much.”
Now he just felt horrible and awkward, and he really hoped he hadn’t lost the best friend he had. Finally Pinkie said, “Did you really keep your birthday present that long?”
He hadn’t been expecting that. “Well . . . yeah,” he said. “Here. I’ll show you.” He pulled out his wallet, removed the tiny bundle of deflated balloons, and placed them in her outstretched hand.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything,” she said sadly. “I guess that is kind of forgetting, especially after you gave me the party cannon. No happy birthday, no presents, and now you just feel bad. That isn’t right.”
Well, he had his answer, anyhow. At least he knew. And now she was sad, and he desperately did not want for her to be sad.
“I don’t think I need a birthday cake,” he said. “The whole day was enough cake for anybody, don’t you think? How about some pie instead? We’ll just call Applejack, have some pie, and forget I said anything. It’s not that important. I just hope we can still be friends.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. The way her pink hair shifted around her face, like clouds at sunrise: so beautiful, Pinkie. “You should have a real birthday, even if it’s not very much. Here,” she said, handing him back the balloons. “I know I gave it to you before, so it feels like cheating, but . . .”
“No, this is fine,” he said, with a big perky grin. “It’s just what I've always wanted.”
“And I know you’ve had plenty of cake, and you’ve got to be tired of cupcakes.”
“Anyone who could get tired of your cupcakes shouldn’t be allowed to have them in the first place,” he pointed out.
“I think at least you should get to blow a candle out and make a wish.” Somehow, he wasn’t surprised when she opened her hand to reveal a single lit pink birthday candle: not a cupcake, just the candle, resting directly on her palm. “Go ahead, Cheesie. Make a wish.”
He thought for a moment, running through the possibilities. That’s it. That’s simple enough, isn’t it? I mean, it’s still not going to happen, but at least it’s not the moon on a stick. He closed his eyes and blew gently enough for a single candle.
It was so soft—something like a peach being brushed across his lips. He wasn’t sure that it wasn’t. It was just a little birthday kiss, and he hoped it wasn’t a pity kiss because she felt sorry for him or something. That was the last thing he wanted. Thank you, Pinkie. I could live on that forever.
Then he felt her hand brush softly across his cheek, and she ran her fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck, and she hadn’t stopped kissing him.
He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her just a little bit closer. He heard and felt a sharp little inhale, followed by a tiny whimper, and even he knew that had to mean; “Please, don’t stop.” She likes kissing me. She actually wants me to kiss her. She wants me.
He felt a great swoop in his gut and a rush of excitement that felt like going on the Giant Slide at Coneigh Island if instead of coming to a stop at the foot of the slide you blasted off for the moon instead. It was his birthday, and Pinkie Pie was kissing him, and it was the most amazing thing that had ever happened to him, except that of course it had to end and he’d thank her for the best birthday present in the history of the universe. He really meant to say that when the kiss was over, only when it did and he was holding both of her hands in his, he wound up saying instead, “I really do love you.”
She sighed. “I hate ‘I love you, too,’ ” she said.
It was amazing how many things his gut could do all on its own: go on the Giant Slide, rocket to the moon, and now it was taking the express elevator to the basement. He looked down and was really startled when she pulled his face down close to hers. “I hate it,” she went on, punctuating her explanation with a dozen little kisses, “because it sounds, it just sounds as though I only said it, I only said it because you said it first, and that’s not true, because I love you so much, Cheesie. I do, I really do!”
He was having a very hard time processing all of this. “I . . . does that mean you’re going to kiss me some more?”
“YES!”
And it wasn’t just the Giant Slide, but the bumper cars and the Ferris wheel and the entire amusement park rolled into one, and Pinkie Pie took him and spun him and his entire world upside down until he was dizzy, and when she stopped and set him down, everything was different, and better, and the way it always should have been. It was the second time she’d done that to him, and this time it was going to stick.
She sat wrapped in his arms, with her curly head nestled up against his collarbone, and it was as though she’d always been meant to be there, and maybe she had.
“That must have been the shortest birthday wish to grant time ever,” he said dreamily. “It probably set some kind of record.”
“Lucky duck. I had to wait for a month and a half for mine!”
“You mean—this? This is what you wished for?”
She half-turned so she could meet his eye. “Well, of course! I saw you standing across the floor at Sugarcube’s, and I closed my eyes and blew out all the candles and wished really hard, and when I opened my eyes again, you were gone.” The corners of her mouth turned down, just for a moment. “I felt really sad and disappointed, and then I thought, ‘duh, Pinkie, that doesn’t mean not ever, it just means not today,’ and I knew I’d get my wish if I was a patient Pinkie, but I don’t like being patient, so it was hard. And then I fell out of the dumb grid and didn’t even get to see you for more than a week, and now I’m really mad at Lightning Dust ‘cause she made me not get to kiss you for weeks longer than I could have on top of everything else she did. I’m glad you told me you love me,” she added, snuggling in a little deeper. “I could kind of tell, but I hoped you’d actually tell me.”
He rested his chin on top of her head. “So why didn’t you tell me first, Boss? I mean, what was stopping you?”
She thought for a moment. “Telling someone you love them is really scary, even if you’re pretty sure they love you back.”
He really didn’t have any secrets from her now. Now they could talk about anything, and did. He didn’t even feel particularly shy when he said, “Pinkie, there’s something I’ve always wanted to do. Is that ok?”
“Sure.”
So he did. He unflipped the latches on his accordion, and he serenaded her. Music that he’d played to her, hoping that somehow she’d understand without him actually putting it into words, music that he played alone when he was thinking of her, only this time he could tell her, “this one reminds me of you,” or “the lyrics on this one are a dead giveaway. Seriously, Pinkie, I am so crazy about you that I’m amazed they can’t see it from space. Are you cold?” he said, frowning. “Because you look cold.”
“Not really,” she said, but she had her arms wrapped around herself. He rummaged around in his knapsack for his Vanhoover Regatta sweatshirt and helped her get it over her head. The arms were so long and it was so big that it swam on her. She reminded him of a kitten wearing a big fluffy bathrobe, and she looked so adorable that he forgot for a moment what he was supposed to be doing. He didn’t feel cold at all, but when he put his hand down on the stage surface, he noticed that it was cold and wet. Dew had actually fallen while they were talking. He sighed.
“We’d better get you home,” he said. “I hope Applejack isn’t too worried about us. I shouldn’t have kept you out so late.”
“You didn’t keep me out late,” Pinkie said. “I wanted to stay and talk to you and kiss you a whole lot, especially since you said you might have to leave soon.”
That wasn’t a nice thought, but it was true. He settled some things in the knapack, and then reached down to pull her up. “Probably,” he admitted, “though really, I’m more worried that she doesn’t seem to like what I’ve been up to, and what she said about closer monitoring. I hope maybe Pranceton puts it out of her mind, but if she doesn’t like the way I behave at home, she might decide to ship me off somewhere.”
“Well, if that’s what your mom thinks she can do, she sure can’t count!” said Pinkie, pulling the sweatshirt down a little more. It was practically long enough for her to wear it as a dress. He must have looked confused, because she picked up his hand and explained gently, “You’re eighteen now, Cheesie. She can’t do anything to you anymore.” As the incredible truth that he was free sunk in, she added smugly, “That’s what happens to people who forget birthdays.”
He squeezed her tight. “I’m still going to have to leave, though.”
“I know,” said Pinkie, picking at the hem of the sweatshirt.
“But I’ll come back to see you as soon as I can,” he assured her, as he strapped on his accordion and picked up his knapsack. “And we’re already used to calling each other and texting a million times a day. It’s just that now it’ll be about something other than cakes!”
“Cupcakes don’t count though, do they?” said Pinkie anxiously, as they walked out of the school grounds. “Because I’ll want to tell you all about my new cupcakes.”
“Cupcakes don’t count,” he agreed, “and besides, anything you want to text me about is fine with me.”
“How about alligators?”
“That’s fine.”
“Bison?”
“Sure.”
“Zucchini?”
“Yep.”
~~
“I guess this is good night, Pinkie,” said Cheese, as he walked her around the back of Sugarcube Corner and kissed her good night as though he’d been doing it for years.
“It’s not night anymore,” Pinkie replied, pointing to the sky. “See? It’s morning.”
“Well, then, good morning!” he cried, flinging open his arms. “Good morning, Beautiful,” he murmured, wrapping her in his arms again, and kissed her on the tip of her nose.
Pinkie slid out from his arms, walked up to the back door, took out her keys, and paused. She turned back and leaned against the railing. “See you tomorrow?”
“See you today,” he said. “As soon as you want me to. Get some breakfast, get some sleep, and call me whenever you want me.” He waved goodbye, backing up so that he didn’t have to stop looking at her.
“You should probably get some sleep, too,” she called, as she walked back up to the door.
“Me?” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “I don’t have time to sleep. I’ve got to tell the world how amazing it is.”
“Why’s it so amazing?”
“You’re in it!” he shouted, exploding upwards in a shower of fireworks and confetti. He hung there, shot around the corner and down the street, and came to a halt. The sunrise stretched out in front of him like a gold and pink pathway, and he ran to meet the sun, taking along the gift Pinkie gave him and that he wanted to share with the world—
Pure Joy.
~~
Mr. and Mrs. Cake sat in the kitchen in their bathrobes, holding cups of coffee.
“Maybe we should call the hospital?” suggested a worried Mr. Cake.
“Oh, I don’t think anything that bad could have happened,” his wife reassured him, “but I’m going to call her cousin Applejack in just a few minutes. If Applejack doesn’t know where Pinkie is either, then it’s time to get worried for sure.” She got up, walked to the stove, picked up the coffee pot, and then put it down abruptly. “Pinkie!”
Pinkie had let herself in. She was wearing a sweatshirt so oversized that the arms covered her hands, and was now twirling in slow circles around the room.
“We were extremely worried about—”
“He loves me,” said Pinkie, with a dreamy half-smile.
“What?”
“He loves me,” she explained, twirling in a tighter little pirouette.
“Who?” said Mr. Cake, completely confused now.
“Cheesie, of course,” she said calmly. “I thought everybody knew that. Can I have Sugarcube’s after closing tonight, Mrs. Cake? It was Cheesie’s birthday yesterday and we never got to give him a party.”
“You did such a wonderful job—of course you can have the shop,” said Mrs. Cake.
“And I’m sure lots of people will want to come,” Pinkie went on, as though Mrs. Cake hadn’t said anything. “Lots of people will want to celebrate Cheesie’s birthday—and to say goodbye.” Her voice wobbled slightly for just a moment. “I’m going to get some sleep now,” she announced. “Good night!—I mean, good morning!” she said, with a beatific smile, and waltzed up three flights of stairs.
The Cakes sat at the kitchen table, stunned.
“She’s too young,” said Carrot Cake. “They’re both much too young!”
“So were we,” Mrs. Cake reminded him. “I’m more worried about her parents. You know how strict they are with their daughters, and I don’t think this is something I could just not tell them. I’d feel guilty.”
“He’s a nice enough boy,” conceded Mr. Cake, “but he brings a lot of trouble with him. Something there makes me uneasy, but I don’t know what it is.”
Mrs. Cake rose and put her arms around Carrot’s shoulders. “She looks so happy, sweetie,” she said. “Let them be happy today.”