//------------------------------// // Act II-I // Story: A New Sun Rises // by CommissarAJ //------------------------------// I don’t think there was ever a time before in my life where I felt more relieved for it to be Monday, and for me to be back at Canterlot High. It was a remarkable change of pace considering how I felt about returning only a week ago, but sadly my change in perspective was not because of a newly-founded appreciation for school. Things at school were the same, or at least I hoped they were, but my home life had hit a speedbump. As was often the case, I had arrived early at school, having been driven in by Celestia and Luna, and waited patiently by the front statue for the arrival of my friends. “Sunset Shimmer!” For once, I felt a surge of optimism when I saw Pinkie Pie bounding across the school grounds. She was bright-eyed and cheerful as always, but when was she ever not like that? I was glad that she was the first to find me, as her boundless energy was a great way to start the school day. Trailing a few feet behind her was Rainbow Dash, whose dragging feet and stooped-over shoulders hinted at a serious case of ‘The Mondays.’ She barely even acknowledged when I waved to her. “Good morning,” I greeted just seconds before Pinkie Pie landed in front of me. I glanced past my friend to the slow-poke who was still sulking across the lawn, stifling a quiet giggle at the sight. “Don’t tell me she’s still sulking about Friday.” “You know how Rainbow gets when she doesn’t get her soccer game on,” Pinkie replied. “It wasn’t fair!” Rainbow Dash shouted, finally joining in on the conversation. When she finally reached the statue, she unceremoniously dropped her backpack to the ground and curled into a ball at the base, like a sulking little gargoyle. “Everything was set up, and we were all ready to play. Then—BAM! Stupid rainstorm just starts pouring and everybody wusses out. It’s like they’ve never played in the rain before.” “And upon the arid, golden hills of the earth ponies, she piled upon all the hate and rage of her people. If her chest were a stormcloud, she would have cursed lightning and bled her heart dry upon them.” To no surprise, my little rendition got nothing but confused stares from my friends. On the bright side, the bewilderment did get Rainbow Dash to stop sulking for a few seconds, if only to ask what the heck I just said. “Sorry, line from a play of Equestrian antiquity,” I explained. I leaned back against the statue and cast my eyes up to the clouds. Friday may have had a freak flash rainstorm, but today was nothing but shining radiance. “The earth ponies were pleading for rain from the pegasi, but Commander Hurricane was so angry at them that she instead called down a terrible storm, flooding the fields of the ponies below. Of course, that only ended up hurting the pegasi, too, since they relied upon earth pony farming for food. Rain always seems to remind me of that passage.” Back in Equestria, I rarely gave much thought to the weather. It was in the domain of the pegasi, after all, and meant little to a unicorn such as I. Canterlot was a prosperous and privileged city, so it was rare for them to get much in terms of rain, lest the Weather Control Division get their own downpour of complaints from citizens who wielded wealth and anger in equal amounts. Here, though, weather seemed like a random force of nature, dictated by laws of science. And even though the best the people here could do was make educated guesses as to how the weather would change over time, I was nonetheless intrigued and impressed by their attempts to understand the world around them. The people here strove to understand things they could not control, whereas ponies could control but few cared to understand. I had to admit, my thoughts still continued to drift to my encounter with Twilight from days ago. I wondered how her efforts would fair in attempting to understand something so convoluted as Equestrian magic. It worried me that she was sniffing around the school, and the possibility of a return visit weighed on my mind. If she were like the Twilight I knew, tenacity would be a key feature. I tried to placate my concerns by reminding myself that she was trying to study something not even of her world, so that should limit what answers she could find. But would the complexities of magic elude her science forever, or was I fooling myself into thinking that magic was something that was beyond comprehension? I hadn’t told any of my friends about the encounter. For some of them, I feared that they would try to seek her out, ultimately causing more harm than good as secrets get brought to light, and for others, I feared backlash, especially from Applejack who had made her thoughts on the matter quite clear. In retrospect, admitting the truth probably would have saved me a lot of heartache, but how often did I make the smart choice on my own? Maybe if I had a friend who I could go to for advice, but everybody I knew also had a connection with Twilight Sparkle, so it would be impossible to get an impartial opinion on the matter. “So where were you all weekend?” Rainbow Dash asked, snapping me from my contemplations. “I tried texting you a bunch of times, but you never answered.” “That’s because I’ve been unplugged,” I answered with a groan. “I met with Fluttershy on Saturday to help out at her animal shelter, but the rest of the weekend was spent stuck inside. Celestia, understandably, was not happy to hear about my...extracurricular activities last week.” “How bad did she take it? Did she get angry?” Rainbow asked before pausing from a second bout of confusion. “Wait, does Celestia even get angry?” I scoffed quietly under my breath, rolling my eyes before replying, “No, she just gets disappointed—very, very disappointed.” Just like from Fluttershy, disappointment seemed to cut deeper than raw anger. Perhaps my friends were learning how to handle me just as much as I was learning how to interact with all of them. “So until next week, I’ve got no phone, no laptop, and no television. Basically, unless it’s for something school-related, I am barred from anything with a circuit.” “Harsh.” “I screwed up; I ought to be punished. It could’ve been worse, and Celestia has a pretty big library of her own so it’s not like I’ll be bored.” I answered with an indifferent shrug. If Luna had been the one to decide my punishment, I probably would’ve been thrown to the curb without so much as a ‘thanks for all the fish.’ “You know, I think this is technically the first time I’ve ever really been grounded.” “Do you think Celestia would let me throw you a ‘Congratulations on getting grounded’ party?” Pinkie Pie asked, though whether she was being genuine with her inquiry was a mystery to me. “I think that defeats the purpose of being grounded, Pinkie,” I answered. Though in all fairness, Celestia didn’t object to me spending time with Fluttershy over the weekend, so it was entirely possible that I was still free to spend time with my friends. After all, I was supposed to be learning how to be a better person from them, so keeping me away from them would only hurt my rehabilitation in the long run. A party was probably still out of the question. “Why would you even throw a party for that?” “I don’t know,” Pinkie answered with a shrug and a laugh. “I’ve thrown parties for all of my friends, and now that you’re my friend, I have to throw you one, too. I mean, it’s this or I wait until your birth—” Pinkie Pie suddenly fell silent, her expression freezing into a look of abject realization. For a second, I thought she had caught sight of somebody throwing a cupcake into the garbage, but then she let out a horrified gasp and grabbed hold of me by the lapels. “Oh my god, this is horrible!” “It’s just Monday, Pinkie, they’re not that bad,” I said since I hadn’t the slightest clue as to what she was referring to. “Not that!” she answered, pulling me in closer. “I just realized the most horrible of horrible things! This is, like, ten times more horrible than the time I realized that bran muffins aren’t really muffins!” Even though Pinkie looked as though she was a hop, skip, and a jump away from a full-blown panic-attack, I could only muster a puzzled stare and a half-hearted shrug as I tried to make sense of the enigma that was her mind. If I kept asking questions, though, eventually the puzzle pieces would fall into place. By the laws of averages, eventually something would come out of her mouth that made sense, right? “I’m pretty sure bran doesn’t detract from their muffin-ness,” I answered. It was unlikely that Pinkie’s concerns were anywhere close to being related to bran or muffins, but whatever it was, I got the nagging suspicion I wanted to keep it at bay for as long as possible. Sadly, my attempts to distract Pinkie with a muffin-tangent proved fruitless. Her eyes widened as she drew me in closer, a look of absolute horror captivating my gaze. “I don’t know when your birthday is,” she revealed. The confusion that once clung to my face dropped faster than a two-legged pony in a six-legged race. “Really? That’s the emergency?” I deadpanned. “For a second, you had me worried that it was something serious.” My indifference did not go over well with my friend, who suddenly began to shake me about. “How can this not be serious? This is super serious!” she cried out. “It couldn’t be more serious if I had a big, giant hat with ‘serious’ written all over it!” “It’s just a birthday. It’s not as though mine is a big deal,” I replied, though my words were slurred and jumbled as I was jostled about like a maraca. “Just a birthday? Just a birthday?!” I watched as Pinkie’s mind appeared to grind to a screeching, gear-shattering halt as it attempted to comprehend my apparent indifference to birthdays. In that brief moment, I was able to escape from her grasp, granting my own mind some respite. My friend just stood there with her face twisted in shock and confusion and hands grasping at her hair, silent and motionless. Rainbow Dash and I exchanged nervous glances for a moment, both of us wondering whether I had somehow broken Pinkie’s brain. Suddenly, as if time was trying to catch up in order to make up for its delay, Pinkie Pie burst back to life. “Oh my gosh, how could you say that your birthday isn’t a big deal when birthdays are, like, the biggest of big deals!” she blurted out faster than a person could sneeze. “It’s only the most important day of the year when you remember that you’ve been around for a whole ‘nother year! And everybody gets together and celebrates what an amazingly awesome and super-fantastic person you are and—” Having heard enough, I quickly planted my palm over her mouth, muffling the rest of her raving until she clued in that my gesture was a request for silence. “Listen, Pinkie, I appreciate the thought, but I am just not interested, okay?” I said in a firm and even tone. As tempting as it was to brow-beat her with harsh words and cynicism, that was the way of the old Sunset Shimmer. Asking politely still felt kind of strange for me, but Fluttershy spent most of Saturday explaining the importance of good manners. “Please just let it go.” Since I couldn’t spend the rest of the day with my hand over Pinkie’s mouth, I had to withdraw and hope that a verbal tsunami didn’t follow suit. “Could you at least tell when me your birthday is?” Pinkie asked in a surprisingly terse manner. “No. You’d just throw me a surprise party anyways.” I almost felt insulted by the idea that Pinkie Pie believed I could be fooled so easily. However, I knew that she would not be content to sit idly by while this mystery lingered on her mind. Eventually, she’d find out the date, but with any luck, it would be well after my birthday has passed, and I would be in a better frame of mind when the next one rolled up. Pinkie Pie realized that I wasn’t going to play along, but she decided not to press the issue with me. She gave me a long, hard stare before uttering, “Okie dokie loki.” Without another word she headed on her way, leaving Rainbow Dash and I to exchange confused glances. “You realize she’s not going to let this go, right?” Rainbow Dash finally asked after a brief moment of silence. “It’ll probably be easier just to tell her now and get it over with. Besides, Pinkie throws the best parties ever. How could you not want one?” I sighed and rolled my eyes as I realized I had only traded Pinkie Pie’s question for somebody else’s. “I’m sure they’re fantastic,” I replied, “but I just don’t want that. Maybe next year I’ll feel more up to it, but right now I just—” I paused for a moment as I tried to collect my thoughts. Birthdays were a difficult subject for me, and it wasn’t something I wanted to ruminate on. “It’s just not a good year for that. Now could I borrow your phone for a second?” “Um, sure. Why?” Rainbow asked, but nonetheless handed the aforementioned item over. “I just need to text Celestia and let her know that Pinkie Pie will probably try to get access to my student record,” I explained while typing the message out. “Might as well let Celestia know that she can let Pinkie see the file, if only so nobody tries to break into the school records later.” “I thought you wanted to keep that from Pinkie.” “I do,” I answered before tossing the phone back. “However, the date I gave for the school records is a fake. If Pinkie sees that, she’ll let the issue drop and try to surprise me in April. By that point, though, my birthday will have long since passed. And, who knows, maybe I’ll have changed my stance on the issue by then.” “So that means your birthday is between now and April then, right?” Rainbow asked. I froze for a moment, realizing my foolish mistake in presuming that Rainbow Dash would not have deduced that. In trying to keep such information away from Pinkie Pie, I had only succeeded in giving it to her friend. So much for clever plans. I could’ve asked Rainbow Dash to keep that information to herself, but why would she? She owed me no loyalty, and certainly not more than she owed to Pinkie. If I answered the question honestly, as I should since I’m supposed to be a better person, then Pinkie would find out. If I tried to deny, Rainbow would just take it as confirmation that she had been correct. Lucky for me, salvation came in a most unexpected form. Ahead by the school doors, I saw Ms. Yearling emerge. I thought nothing of it at first, but she spotted me in short order, and it soon became clear she was seeking me out. “Sunset Shimmer,” she called out. Once she knew that she had my attention, she gestured for me to follow her inside. “We need to talk.” Even if it was a teacher with whom my last encounter involved confessing to stealing school property, I was nonetheless relieved to have a legitimate excuse to put some distance between myself and any inquisitive friends. Whatever purpose Ms. Yearling wanted me for, she did not say immediately, and instead led me into the school. Her calm professionalism made it impossible for me to get a read on the situation, so I couldn’t tell if I was a lamb being led to slaughter or salvation. It wasn’t until we reached her classroom that she started to make her intentions known. “It seems I have a bit of a staffing issue at my little newspaper club,” Yearling began, taking a seat behind her desk, “and that I have you to thank for it.” When she motioned for me to have a seat, I grabbed the nearest thing I could, a desk, and dragged it over to make an impromptu chair. “You’re welcome?” I replied, confused as to her insinuations. “I take it you’ve looked into Diamond Tiara’s...business dealings?” Yearling nodded slowly, though her unchanging stoicism gave me feelings of apprehension. I got the impression I was not about to be given a pat on the back and a ‘good job,’ though I had no desire for congratulations. Personally, I would have been more content if my entire dealings with Diamond Tiara were sealed away inside an enchanted safe and then launched into the sun. “So the good news—well, good news for you—is that Diamond Tiara  is no longer a part of the newspaper,” Yearling explained. To be honest, I was surprised that she managed to oust Tiara from her job as student-editor. I had expected some kind of protracted battle between the two, though perhaps it only seemed anti-climactic because I was getting the Cole’s Notes version. “How’d you manage that? I didn’t think there would be any evidence linking my actions to her.” “There wasn’t, but Tiara didn’t know that,” she explained. “I convinced her that since the issue would bring about a great deal of embarrassment for the newspaper and Canterlot High, I was willing to be merciful and allow her the dignity of resigning from her position in exchange for letting the issue slide.” “I’m surprised your boss was okay with this,” I commented. “Actually, the whole arrangement was my suggestion,” a familiar voice perked up from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see Celestia strolling in. “Ms. Yearling wanted something more public, though I had to remind her that stocks are no longer allowed as a punitive measure.” “Only because you’re no fun anymore. Years have made you soft, Tia, and I’m not just referring to all the cake,” Yearling responded. I couldn’t tell if she was annoyed or amused by Celestia’s interjection. I got the impression that despite the apparent verbal jab, their words were rooted in familiarity rather than contempt. “Anyways, downside is that without Diamond Tiara, we’ve also lost Gabby Gums.” As Apple Bloom and her friends had already confessed to me their disdain for the gossip column, the news came as no surprise. Were I in their situation, I wouldn’t have waited until Ms. Yearling finished saying ‘Tiara resigned’ before high-tailing it out of the club. They had their freedom, which meant I had my security. I would have considered this to have been the best possible outcome were it not for the fact that such good news would not normally require both Yearling and Celestia just to deliver. I suddenly felt very caged in with predators stalking from both angles. “And this has to do with me because…?” I was hesitant to ask, but I decided to get it over with, as I had a sneaking suspicion as to what pallet of bricks was about to be dropped unceremoniously onto my head. No point in allowing them the satisfaction of seeing me squirm in uncertainty. Yearling smirked, a playful but unsettling sort of smile. The kind you would expect from a hunter who had just cornered their prey. “Well, since this whole debacle has left me short-staffed, I thought it would be fitting for you to help fill that void,” she explained. And just in case if I was too stunned to understand, Yearling reached into a nearby drawer and pulled out a pocket-sized pad of paper and a pencil, which she handed out to everybody who joined the newspaper club as a contributor. I took a moment to just stare at the items laid before me. My previous time at the newspaper club had been enjoyable, as far as my memory could recall, but I had joined purely for personal gain. “Should I spell out all of the reasons why this is a horrible idea?” I answered back. “Only if you want me to spell out all the reasons why I don’t care, and why you’ll do it anyways,” Yearling poignantly rebuked. Before I could attempt to chastise her for the apparent indifference to my personal feelings, as well as what appeared to be forcing me into what is supposed to be a voluntary after-school program, Celestia stepped in. “What Ms. Yearling means to say is that she is confidant that we can address your concerns in a productive manner,” Celestia explained before shooting a stink-eye at her colleague. “For example, if you are worried that people might not want to read something with your name attached to it, then you can use a pseudonym for the time being. I believe the name ‘Gabby Gums’ just became available.” I had to give credit to Celestia for already heading off one of my biggest concerns. I would have felt more appreciative were I not being shoehorned into the job in the first place. Given how Celestia explained the situation, it was apparent that she already gave her blessings for this arrangement. In fact, I would not have been surprised if my services had been offered up as compensation to placate Yearling and her desire for a more public punishment of Diamond Tiara. Even though I was being volunteered against my will, as far as after-school clubs went, the newspaper had always appealed to me the most. Yearling said I had a knack for wrangling out the truth; it was just a shame that I used it for ulterior motives rather than a genuine desire for journalism. I let out a sigh, and picked up my new tools. “Pinkie Pie did say that I should get involved in extracurriculars.” “And I know just the perfect way to ease you back in,” Yearling spoke up in a sudden burst of energy and enthusiasm that caught both Celestia and I off-guard. “The big soccer match between us and Crystal Heart academy was re-scheduled to after-school today. How does a little sports journalism out in the field sound?” Once again, it did not sound as though I was being given a choice in the matter. However, an article on the big soccer game would be an easy first assignment: give a hot-headed athlete a chance to showboat in the spotlight and they won’t care who they’re talking to. Plus the students of Crystal Heart Academy didn’t know anything about me so they were all safe to talk to, with the exception of a certain former client of mine. In a surprising move, though, Celestia was the one to voice concerns on the choice of assignment. “Do you really think that’s a wise move? It’s just a friendly soccer match. Surely you could find something more challenging.” “Sunset Shimmer hasn’t written an article in over half-a-year, she needs something simple to get back into the workflow. Besides, Wednesday’s edition has a big empty space where Gabby’s column used to be.” Equally surprising was Yearling’s resistance; she seemed calmer than Celestia, as though she did not feel threatened or pressured by the principal’s presence. “But she doesn’t know how to get home from Crystal Heart Academy. It’s pretty much in the opposite direction from the school,” Celestia countered, unabated. I couldn’t help but notice that Celestia’s arguments sounded more...desperate, if only because I was used to her always having carefully considered and formulated answers. If debating were a sport, I’d say she was off her game. “It’s far too much a distance to expect her to walk on her own, and the academy isn’t going to offer any transportation.” If I noticed that Celestia was grasping at straws, then Yearling saw it a mile before I even had a glimpse. “Then do what every other parent and legal guardian does, and pick them up. You should be finished working by the time the game’s finished. If not, I’m sure Sunset wouldn’t mind waiting a few minutes. It’d even give her time for post-game interviews.” “You know how busy I am, Dee. The school budget is in absolute disarray,” Celestia replied, bordering on pleading. “Perhaps she can bum a ride off one of the other students. Rainbow Dash is her friend, if I’m not mistaken.” It was a swift and precise rebuttal from Yearling, though I was more surprised by the fact that she had apparently been keeping tabs on my social life. “She has no cell phone. What if something happened to her while she’s out?” “Come now, Tia, I know you dislike private schools, but now you’re just being paranoid.” Yearling was clearly toying with her opponent at this point. It might be more accurate to say that Celestia was a victim caught in a trap by an opponent who had prepared a counter for every step of the process. “Sunset Shimmer is a big girl: she can handle going to another school for one afternoon. Unless there’s a reason why you don’t want her going to Crystal Heart in particular?” The debate came to such a sudden halt that I almost got whiplash just standing on the sidelines. Celestia remained silent for a moment, staring at her fellow educator as her expression hardened. “No, I suppose I don’t,” she answered with all the brevity of a person turning down the super-size offer at a cashier. She then walked out the door without another word, not even a ‘goodbye’ or ‘take care’ to either of us. I didn’t say anything until the door slammed shut. “What just happened?” “What you just witnessed was Celestia losing an argument. Cherish this memory, for these moments are a rarity to behold, existing to most as mere rumours or urban legends—like unicorns, or Frogurt Fridays in the cafeteria.” “I miss Frogurt Fridays,” I muttered with a sigh. “We all do.” ******************* “And you’re okay with that?” Applejack’s concern was understandable and expected.  Still, I could not help but feel a bit annoyed when she asked given that I had fielded similar questions all day from my friends since telling them of my new position in the newspaper club. “The newspaper club isn’t a bad gig,” I answered before stopping at my locker. The end of the school day meant it was time to find a way to the big soccer game over at Crystal Heart Academy. Unfortunately, the only means of transportation I could think of, other than a lengthy sprint across town, was hitching a ride with the team itself on their bus. Needless to say, I was not looking forward to being stuck in a cramped steel tube filled with jocks who, with the exception of one, all hated my guts. True, Rainbow Dash was my friend, and a loyal one at that, but would she be willing to stick her neck out for me if one of the other players wanted to give me a hard time? What if the whole team came after me? Not only did I not want to test that theory, I didn’t want to put Rainbow Dash in the middle of that. “I agree that joining a club is a step in the right direction, but it’s...you know, ain’t exactly fair to force you into it,” Applejack said. She presented a valid point, and one that I had considered over the course of the school day. While I was not thrilled about being coerced into my new position, I decided to give Yearling and Celestia the benefit of the doubt that this would help me in the long run. “As much as I hate to admit, Celestia was right about one big thing: I do need an adult in my life. I might not be able to ever have a real set of parents in this world, but Celestia has done a pretty decent job so far as a substitute,” I explained. “I need supervision, guidance, and, occasionally, somebody to put their foot down and force me to comply even if I don’t agree with it at first. I’m sure your parents have had to force you to do things that you didn’t enjoy at the time.” “Uhh, yeah...there’s been times like that,” Applejack replied, suddenly become distant for a moment. I must have touched on a sensitive topic, though I was unaware of my exact faux pas. I had to remind myself that not everybody had rosy lives, as much as I liked to think that I was the only person that the universe liked to screw around with. “Anyway, what do you think you’ll do your first article on?” “Yearling’s tasked me to do the soccer game today, so I’ve got to catch the bus over to Crystal Heart.” Since I planned to return home immediately after the game, I had to pack light, otherwise I would be hauling a heavy backpack all across the soccer field. Lucky for me, the homework load for today was light or could be put off until tomorrow. I only needed to grab a couple of small textbooks for tonight. Once my pack was loaded, I closed up my locker and we headed on our way. “Do you need a lift?” “You’re going to the game?” I replied. “Eyup,” Applejack answered with an enthusiastic nod. “Got permission to sell some fizzy ciders for refreshments at the game. Big Mac is coming around with the truck and we’re gonna head on over. You’re welcome to tag along.” “Thanks. I’d really appreciate that.” “We could give you a lift home, too, if you’d like.” “I don’t want to make you drive all across town just for me,” I insisted. “Plus, Principal Celestia said she would pick me up after the game.” Now, I could’ve taken up Applejack’s offer and spared Celestia the trip, but her initial reaction to the news of my travel to Crystal Heart had made me curious. Perhaps making her drive out to the academy would shed some light as to the cause for her concern. It was a long shot, but even in the worst-case scenario, the drive home would give me the opportunity to talk with her. “So what’s it like living with her? Does she act like a principal when she’s at home?” “I’m not entirely sure what to make of it,” I answered honestly. “I don’t see a great deal of them outside of school. Luna usually retreats to her room once she’s home, and Celestia typically works on administrative stuff in the living room until six-ish. Then she makes dinner, and if she doesn’t go back to her work afterwards, she spends the rest of the evening with the television or a book.” To be fair, it had only been a little over a week since I moved in, so I had only seen a small portion of their home life. It wouldn’t be unreasonable to presume that they were holding off on any of their usual activities until they felt more comfortable with me around, and I with them. The fact that Luna still forbade me from entering her bedroom was a prime example. “Is she treating you okay?” “We still don’t talk much,” I said with a quiet sigh. There were some conflicting emotions with regards to that matter; on the one hand, receiving guidance would be hard if I never spoke to the person that was supposed to be doing the guiding, but she was still Celestia. I still saw my old mentor whenever I looked at her. “Give it time. Nobody is expecting things to change overnight.” Applejack gave me a few pats on the shoulder to help reassure me, which, surprisingly, did help uplift my spirit. Even if it was just one step at a time, progress was still being made in my life, and I couldn’t give up on it. I already learned the hard way what happens when I try to force change too quickly. Our little pep talk came to an abrupt halt when we came across a most curious sight in the hallway. In retrospect, it shouldn’t have been too surprising, but nonetheless I wound up staring in stunned silence for several seconds at what could only be described as the single-worst example of a disguise since the time Snips and Snails tried to pass themselves off as cheerleaders. It was Pinkie Pie, of that there was no doubt, but she was trying to conceal her identity by wearing an oversized coat, and those novelty glasses that included a fake nose and moustache. Perhaps it might have been a more effective disguise if she had taken any measure to conceal her ridiculous amounts of pink curls. “Pinkie Pie, what in the world are you doing?” Applejack asked. I refrained from answering that question since the reasoning was obvious to me. We were just outside the room where all the hard copies of the student records were held, and judging by how Pinkie was hunched over the door, she was trying to gain entry in order to pull up my records and find my listed date of birth. “Pinké? ‘oo ees zis Pinké?” she answered in an accent so horrid that a Frenchman somewhere just choked on his baguette. “Juicy Madam La Flour.” “Two things Pinkie,” I announced, “first off, you’re not fooling anybody. Secondly, you can’t pick a lock with just a bobby pin. It doesn’t work like that.” Most people when confronted with the obvious truth would just accept it and move on with their lives. Most people, however, do not count buckets of turnips as sources of guidance and inspiration, so rather than abandon her futile quest, Pinkie Pie just doubled-down on her insanity and went straight back to her attempt at subterfuge. I was beginning to feel embarrassed by proxy, so I motioned for Applejack to just keep moving. Once we got around the next corner, I was no longer able to contain myself and let out a quick snicker, which soon evolved into full-out giggling. “What exactly is so funny?” Applejack inquired. “I used to sneak into that room so many times in the past,” I answered, fighting through the fits of laughter. “The door’s lock has been broken for years: the door is just really stiff.” I wondered how long it would take for Pinkie Pie to eventually realize she was being held up by an unlocked door, but even if she did get inside, the records room was about as organized as the aftermath of a tornado. There was a reason why everyone used the electronic database. “So why is she trying to get into the records room anyways?” “How should I know? I barely understand half the things she does.” I did feel a bit guilty lying to Applejack, but I knew what would happen if I told her the truth. All that would happen is that I would have a third person on my case about avoiding my birthday, which would just hasten its spread to the rest of my friends. I already made the mistake of giving too much information to Rainbow Dash, so I was going to be more mindful about what I said around the others. One or two friends I could stonewall, but if all five of them ganged up on me, then avoiding the issue might become impossible. I knew that I would have to let them in sooner or later. They all enjoyed such a close kinship, and I was never going to achieve that if I kept them at arm’s length. I just didn’t want to think about my birthday, impending though it may be, because the one thing I wanted was also the thing I was most afraid to ask for. Stepping out of the school, I spotted a few of our friends in the distance. They were saying their farewells to Rainbow Dash, who was adorned in her soccer gear and looking as eager as a puppy with a new toy. Luckily for me, Applejack only had us pass nearby to the group: close enough for them to see us, and for all of us to exchange waves and shouts of ‘good-bye’ and ‘have fun,’ but not close enough for anybody to say much else. I wondered if Rainbow Dash had made any mention of Pinkie’s new quest to Fluttershy or Rarity. It was a question that would have to wait until tomorrow at the very least. Up ahead, I could see a parked pickup truck loaded down with boxes of what I could safely presume to be fizzy apple cider. I had never been able to picture fizzy cider as a beverage of choice for soccer games, but I also didn’t sell the stuff for a living, so what did I know? It made me wonder if I should have packed a water bottle since I did plan to spend most of my time talking with fans and players. Applejack would never let me live it down if I had to buy a fizzy cider from her. “You ever been to Crystal Heart?” Applejack asked out of the blue as we walked to her truck. “I’ve walked by the school property before, and I’ve met a few of its students,” I answered, deciding to leave out the exact details of those student contacts. “And you?” “Nope! First time visiting. I hope they ain’t too rich and fancy for some good ol’ country ciders.” Though on the surface, she sounded very optimistic, I couldn’t help but notice a faint undertone of uncertainty. Were she anyone else, I would have described it as ‘worried,’ but I figured it was just Applejack exercising her usual brand of pragmatism. As for myself, I wasn’t worried in the least, which was a nice change of pace. Though the issue with Pinkie Pie still played at the back of my mind, it wasn’t the kind of thing a person loses sleep over. All I had to look forward to was a relaxing afternoon watching a soccer game. What could be more stress-free than that?