Second period. I am not in the mood for Classical Aeronautics today.
You sit at your desk, waiting for the rest of the class to filter in. As you lazily lean your head on your foreleg, your fellow classmates suddenly fall silent. You perk up and notice Rainbow Dash slowly stepping through the doorway, walking toward her desk. You hear muttering nearby.
“Look who decided to show up! Did she just come from a bar fight?”
“What happened to her mane?”
“Do we still call her Rainbow?”
She slinks to her seat behind you with a nervous smile, your classmates slowly returning to their usual banter. “Not as bad as I thought it'd be,” she whispers.
Shortly after the academy bell rings, the professor clears his throat. “Class, today we will be conducting a field experiment. All students are expected to perform. Consider this your practical examination in Mistwright's laws.”
You hear a squeal of glee behind you. Turning around, you see Rainbow Dash, her face beaming. She leans close to you and whispers in your ear. “This is so awesome. I came back at the perfect time!”
“You know Mistwright's laws?” you whisper back.
“Well, uh, not all that formula stuff. But I've done this before!”
Done what?
You turn back around as the professor adjusts his glasses before continuing his explanation. “I'd like you to pair off into two-pony groups. Your team will be graded on your understanding of the laws and your ability to apply them.”
“See?” whispers Rainbow Dash. “You know all the equations, right?”
You nervously flip through your notes. “I think so.”
“Perfect.”
As the professor leads the class to a nearby cloud field, Rainbow Dash flies circles around you. Every so often, her wings graze against yours, but she pays it no mind. “Look, these laws, or whatever. They're the basis of the Sonic Rainboom!”
You shoot her a puzzled look, your eyes trying to follow her as she continues to revolve around you excitedly. “I thought that was an old mares' tale.”
“It's real! I did it once! See?” She freezes in mid-air, turning her flank to you. “My cutie mark. I got it right after I performed my first Sonic Rainboom. Well, first and only.”
“Even so, what does it have to do with Classical Aeronautics?”
“These Mistwell laws—”
“Mistwright.”
“Yeah, Mistwright. They talk about distorting the air if you're flying at just the right speed and just the right angle.”
“Right,” you say, “that's what all of these equations are for.”
“Well, if you push hard enough, the distortion gives way to the Rainboom! Or something like that,” she adds, looking away. “It's not exactly something I've been able to copy. I think I'm missing something.”
A worried frown grows across her face, but you pat her back gently. “If it was anypony else, I wouldn't believe it. You, on the other hoof . . .”
“Well, thanks,” she says, blushing. “I can't promise a Sonic Rainboom, but wait until you see the way I tear up the air! I mean, anypony can cause the distortion if they know the angles, but nopony can do it like me! I just have this . . . intuitive sense for it.”
“Thus your cutie mark.”
Rainbow Dash smiles.
The class arrives at the field. The professor pulls out a notebook and starts paging through it. “Students, there are three phases to this exercise. First, have your aerial velocity tested by flying past the radar set up across the field. Second, insert that value, along with today's weather patterns, into the equation governed by Mistwright's second law. This will give you the required angle. Third, trace that angle through the air at the same speed to perform the distortion.”
“Ugh, let's skip the math part and go straight to the distortion. Let me just do it!” Rainbow Dash flexes her wings.
“We're getting graded on the calculations, too, you know.”
“We'll get to the boring stuff later. Watch me!” She fires herself high into the air. The professor yells after her, but she is already past earshot.
The entire class turns toward the sky, peering into the distance. A nearby classmate turns to you. “She's going to create the distortion on her own? Without calculating it?”
You nod. “Knowing her, she's not joking.” Also, knowing her, she never learned the calculations in the first place.
The students turn quiet as the white-maned, cyan pegasus surges back down, the air around her forelegs rippling in a sonic wave. Just as she nears the cloud field, she hooks back upward, causing the distortion effect to dissipate with a flourish.
The professor lowers his glasses. “That's even better than the textbooks.”
As Rainbow Dash lands, the class bursts into applause. “Thank you, thank you!” She flares her wings and bows before cantering over to you. “So? How was that, huh?”
You stare at her, unblinking. “I think we're gonna ace this practical exam.”
After her performance, the rest of the class begins working through the exercise proper, most students eventually producing the Mistwright distortion at some level. Toward the end of the period, as your work is just about complete, you hear commotion from the other side of the field. You squint your eyes and see a few ponies embroiled in a heated argument. Sharing a quick glance, you and Rainbow Dash fly over.
The professor floats in the air, his wings beating rapidly. “I'm not taking any more of your excuses this time, Miss Rosewing. Stop slacking off and join the class!” He points a hoof toward her. “It's a quick exercise, and your partner has already worked out the calculations.”
“I just can't, okay? Please, I'll make it up another way,” pleads Rosewing. “I just . . .” She walks up to the professor and whispers something in his ear.
He shakes his head. “The last time you wormed your way out of an assignment, I found out you had been lying. Not happening.”
Rosewing's partner chimes in. “Come on, stop being so stubborn! I am not failing this exam because I got stuck with a prissy mare who refuses to fly.”
Rosewing's ears droop. “Please, if I could do it, I would, but I can't.”
“Can't what?” her partner cries. “Can't stop acting like a spoiled brat?”
You give Rainbow Dash a confused look. “What's up with her?” you whisper. She doesn't respond, instead continuing to watch the scene unfold with widened eyes.
After receiving enough scolding and realizing that the entire class is now watching, Rosewing dejectedly floats up into the air. She gradually works her way higher, then begins to descend; however, her slow pace produces no distortion. Despite the strained look on her face, she barely approaches the minimum speed required.
“That's it?” her partner yells. “You're a pegasus! Flap your wings! You know you have wings, right?”
A few snickers work their way through the crowd of students. Rosewing's mouth opens in horror.
“Actually, don't flap!” she continues. “You'll probably go faster if you just fall straight down.”
The entire class is now lost in rowdy laughter. Facing away from the crowd, Rosewing lands some distance away and runs off.
“Wow,” you say. “I wasn't expecting that.”
You look over, but Rainbow Dash has already left the field.
----------
The lunch period seems to arrive quickly. You make your way to your usual table, but there is no sign of Fluttershy.
Probably hanging out with Rosewing. Although, now that I look around, I can't see either of them here.
You sit down at the table, alone. Halfway through your usual sandwich lunch, you're interrupted by a sudden poke on your flank by a particular cyan mare.
“Hey, Rainbow Dash!” you say. “You never eat at the cafeteria.”
“Nope. But, ever since my mane became so popular, I figured I'd show off for a change!”
“Popular?”
“Apparently, white is the new black. Or the new rainbow, depending on how you look at it.” She points to her chest, grinning.
“You're in good spirits today.”
She taps you on the foreleg. “Yeah, yeah.” Sitting down, she unwraps a daffodil sandwich and begins eating. “Hey, you get flower sandwiches too?”
“Me? Yeah. Why, is that a bad thing?”
“Oh, no, it's cool. So do I!” She takes a large bite and almost immediately swallows. “Everypony else just eats hay. So boring.”
You look at Fluttershy's empty seat. Almost everypony . . .
You take a bite of your own sandwich, smiling. “You're all right, Rainbow Dash. You're all right.”
She blushes. The two of you eat in silence for a moment. As she wolfs down the remainder of her sandwich, she raises a hoof. “So, about Rosewing . . .”
You shake your head. “I've thought about it. The best thing to do is just stay out of whatever she does. No matter what she says, just ignore her.”
Rainbow Dash gives you a blank look.
Thoughts of last night run through your head. “I mean, she is borderline insane.” I won't pretend I understood what happened earlier today, though. “Besides, these things have a way of working themselves out naturally.”
She perks up. “I agree. Let's just leave it alone. Forget all about her.”
You chew thoughtfully for a moment, then swallow. “No. I'm not saying we forget everything that happened. We just have to wait for the right moment.”
“Uh, don't they say it's best to 'forgive and forget'?”
“Not in her case.” You take another small bite. “To be honest, I'm more worried about Fluttershy. Rosewing can't be a good influence.”
Rainbow Dash softly rubs her cheek. “Tell me about it.”
I've really messed things up with Fluttershy. How am I going to explain everything when I can't even approach her? Or even find her? I feel like the more time passes, the worse this will get.
You sneak a glance at Rainbow Dash while she looks across the cafeteria. I'm glad I'm not alone right now, though. As you finish your sandwich, you stare out the nearby window. “Well, anyway. Are you ready for wingball practice today?”
“Really? We have practice today?” She leaps into the air, hovering over the table. “Awesome!”
You chuckle. “I don't think it'll be that awesome for you. Coach will probably chew you out pretty good.”
She dismisses your comment with a wave of her hoof. “Wingbury's star player is back! Coach'll go easy on me. No problem.”
----------
“. . . abandon us before the first match of the season, and you come back thinking you own the wingball field? When I used to play . . .”
“. . . don't care how many Sonic Rainbooms you can do . . .”
“. . . sent out a two-pony team! Kept hoping you would show up, but no . . .”
Wow, coach is really letting her have it.
Rainbow Dash holds her head and wings low. After Coach Cloudmane finishes his rant, she chances a look up to meet his eyes. “I'm really sorry, coach.”
He looks back at her with a scowl, but after only a few seconds, his face softens. “Oh . . . it's all right.” He sighs. “I'm just glad you're back safe and sound, kiddo. Don't scare me like that again, okay?”
Rainbow Dash jumps up from her slouch. “You got it, coach. I promise!”
“Good.” He smiles, then turns to you and Fairweather. “You three have a lot of catching up to do, practice-wise. Our next match is in a few days, and you haven't had a chance to work together. Get out there and mix it up.”
With a blow of his whistle, Coach Cloudmane dismisses the teams for independent training. Your team hits the field, Rainbow Dash showing you everything she had learned about wingball over the previous year. Despite the complexity of her advanced tactics, you quickly learn each maneuver and formation. You cap the hour of practice with a few two-on-one drills to hone reflexes.
One spirited session later, the three of you celebrate your success. Although the other teams are exhausted after a long afternoon of training, your own team still brims with energy.
“All right! That was awesome!” Rainbow Dash pumps her hoof in the air. “If we keep this up, our wingball team will be unstoppable!”
Fairweather flaps excitedly in the air. “You were amazing, Rainbow! Does the white mane help you fly faster or something, 'cause, wow, dude.”
Rainbow Dash chuckles. “All-natural skill!”
You ruffle her mane. “No way! It's the mane, for sure.” She gives you a playful shove.
As the three of you jovially canter back toward the gymnasium, the academy bell rings in the distance, marking the end of the afternoon. Fairweather bids farewell and takes flight, leaving you and Rainbow Dash.
“Today was a pretty good day,” you say. “Awesome, even.”
“Yeah,” she says, looking off into the horizon. “It really was.”
“I'm glad you're back, Rainbow Dash.”
“Me too.”
You pause for a moment. “Well, I've gotta grab my stuff from my locker before I head back. I'll catch you tomorrow!” you say, flying off.
“Wait, wait! Hold on.” She catches up to you, hovering only a few inches away from your face. “You know, you're . . . really cool.”
“What?”
“I just wanted to tell you. If it wasn't for you . . . I might not be here right now.”
“Rainbow Dash, I didn't do anything. You're the one who had the courage to come back. To be brave and finally stand up for yourself. And everypony can tell how great you are—there's a reason they all like you.”
She floats even closer to you. “You were the only one who liked me from the start. For who I really was. And that's why . . .”
She looks away for a moment, then rushes forward, meeting your lips in a kiss. Her wings beating rapidly, she leans into your body as you return her embrace. She pulls back after a few seconds, a shameless grin plastered across her face.
A short, silent moment later, she scratches the back of her neck. “You, uh, wanna meet tomorrow night? Maybe go to the center of Cloudsdale and do something?”
Your heart pulses quickly. “Yeah, I'd love to. Definitely.”
“How about you meet me outside my dorm at eight?”
“Sure thing.”
“O-Okay. See you!” she stammers, flying away.
That mare . . . she really is special.
----------
You arrive at Thunderhead Labs and zip over to your locker to retrieve your saddlebags. As you root through your belongings, sharp voices echo from elsewhere in the corridor. Amid the shouting, you can hear sobbing. Shutting your locker door in a hurry, you run down the hall and turn the corner.
This day is full of surprises.
Rosewing stands alone, backed against the lockers as three other mares surround her. They poke and prod her between their ridiculing.
“I can't believe we ever associated with a loser like you. You used to tease us, but you can't even fly!”
“How did you even get into Wingbury? This is a school for pegasi, not earth ponies.”
“How do you think? Haven't you heard the rumors about this fillyfooler?”
Rosewing tries to speak, but one of the mares interrupts her by pushing her against the lockers. “Remember your place, Rose. It's at the bottom. Grow some wings.”
“Hey, who is that?” Realizing you are watching from the other end of the hall, the group quickly scatters. As they leave the building, you step closer to Rosewing, tears streaming down her face.
She notices you approaching. “What are you l-looking at? Huh? You h-happy now?” She stares at you for another second, lip quivering, before running away.