“You shouldn’t go to CHS.”
“Su-sugarcoat?” Twilight pushed her glasses back up and blinked. “Why shouldn’t I go to Canterlot High School?” She turned around to face Sugarcoat, who leaned against the doorway of Twilight’s lab. Her arms were crossed and her face betrayed no emotion, just the same dull, aloof look the rest of the school always seemed to convey.
“I don’t want you to go to CHS,” Sugarcoat clarified. She pushed herself from the door frame but stayed standing in the doorway itself, blocking any exit. Her face dropped.
“B-but why? There’s so much for me there, and so little left for me here. Those girls hardly knew me but gladly welcomed me and shared advice and— and they didn’t even seem phased that I turned into a,” Twilight looked down as tears stung the corners of her eyes, “a demon.”
Sugarcoat took a few steps forward, still between Twilight and the door. “I’m sorry for my part in that, Twilight. Pressuring you into unleashing that magic is not one of my prouder moments. There are a lot of things I could have done differently.” Sugarcoat muttered something else under her breath.
Twilight looked up at Sugarcoat, eyebrow raised but tears still shimmering in the corners of her eyes.
“You should stop crying. You’re a lot prettier when you smile.” Sugarcoat reached her hand across her chest and grabbed her arm.
“Pr-prettier?”
“I’ve never been very good at expressing myself. I don’t, ugh, sugarcoat things,” her voice dripped with venom, as though she was disgusted with herself for saying it. She sighed. “I say the first thing that comes to mind more often than not, but I still.... Sometimes I can’t find the words. Like with you, Twilight Sparkle. I can’t. I say the wrong things because of how you make me feel.”
Twilight shakes her head. “I just don’t understand. You’ve said some unkind things to me, how I suck at archery or public speaking or joining in with everyone to make me release that magic—”
“I’m sorry.” Sugarcoat stepped forward and took ahold of Twilight’s hands. “I. Am. Sorry. I...” She took a deep breath to steady herself. “Can I explain?”
Twilight didn’t shy away from Sugarcoat’s hands and nodded slowly; her eyes were transfixed on Sugar’s and how her silvery-white and blue streaked hair obscured anything else but the insistent, intense orchid eyes piercing into her own.
“You’re awkward, you’re asocial, and even though we celebrated you joining the mathletes and the chess club because we’ve gone undefeated for years, you never became part of our group. I sometimes say things like ‘you should try not speaking in public’ not out of malice, but— but because I want you to be part of the group. I want you to open up to us, to laugh and smile and celebrate and dance...” Sugarcoat took steps forward with each word, pressing Twilight further back until she landed in her chair, her hands still held firmly by Sugarcoat’s. “Because I like you, Twilight. You have a sharp mind that doesn’t let up to get what it wants.”
“Y-yo-y-you l-li-like m-me?” Twilight stared wide eyed up at Sugarcoat and then glanced at her surroundings: a small, almost closet-like lab most taken up by instruments and storage space, her chair pushed against the back wall, and a very persuasive girl confessing a long held crush. She blushed to the point that Sugarcoat could easily mistake her natural color for red.
“Sugarcoat, wait.” Twilight pushed back and turned the pair around, Sugarcoat now with her back to the chair and Twilight with her back to the door. “This is a lot to take in,” she whispered slowly. “Is this really why you don’t want me to go, to leave? Because you think I’ll forget about you?”
A light pink dusting made it to Sugarcoat’s cheeks and she stared at Twilight’s shoes. “Yes,” she mumbled, “I thought that if you stayed, if I pushed myself, that maybe I’d have a chance.”
Twilight pulled one of her hands from Sugarcoat’s and brought it up to rest on her shoulder. “Sugarcoat, you’re very brave. For telling me this, for standing up to Principal Cinch. But...”
Sugarcoat sighed, resignation drawn in her voice and on her face. “But...” she said without enthusiasm.
“I don’t know. It’s a lot to take in and it’s just really sudden to me. I just don’t know you that well. So maybe before we go, um,” Twilight bit her lip nervously, “get into anything, maybe I can, we can get to know each other better? Have a friendly little chat?”
Sugarcoat let out a breath she’d been holding. She checked the clock hanging on the wall. She looked back at Twilight. “Won’t we need to go to class soon?”
“I have a free period for the rest of the day. If you need to go,” Twilight trailed off and stepped aside. She wore a sad smile, as if Sugarcoat leaving meant the feelings were superficial.
“I’ll,” Sugarcoat glanced between Twilight and the door, “stay,” she declared. Her lips curled up into a small smile. Twilight’s eyes brightened.
“OK, how about we... er...” Twilight’s smile faded into a frown and her brow knotted while she searched for something, anything to occupy their time with. Her phone buzzed with a calendar alert: the period was over and the bell would ring any moment. An idea struck her. “Play cards!”
“Do you have a deck?”
“Right here!” Twilight held up her phone. She walked Sugarcoat through installing the game on her phone, too, so they could play together. The bell rang loud and drawn out; students stampeded through the halls. Their footsteps were drowned out by the cacophony of voices and slammed lockers. Twilight slid her door shut and relished the click that dulled the roar of activity in the hall behind her. Sugarcoat smiled a little brighter and they sat down across from each other, phones in hand. A few matches went by in relative silence as they played, sharing a few snickers and groans as they won and lost.
Twilight set her phone down.
“Why me?” Twilight asked; they finished the series of games tied. Sugarcoat proved to be a formidable opponent, just as in chess and mathematics.
“Because in sea of people driven to learn and be the best, you are exactly that. The best. The smartest.” Sugarcoat tossed a pigtail with her hand. “Maybe in contention for the cutest, but you’ve got strong competition.” She giggled as Twilight rolled her eyes at her. “You’ve got your flaws, but they center around your passion for scientific knowledge. It’s left a few gaps elsewhere. But after Canterlot High School, after the Friendship Games... I think all of Crystal Prep has a few gaps. I guess that’s why they call them the Friendship Games.” Sugarcoat looked down at her phone, still showing a fireworks animation. She shut off the display. “I was wrong before. Or what I said was wrong. You should go to CHS. But I’m torn. I don’t want you to go because I want to be with you. But I also want you to keep pushing forward to being the best. Those girls seem to know friendship in a way that we just don’t.”
“But we can learn,” Twilight insisted. She scooted over to Sugarcoat’s side and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Even if I go, you and I can still be friends—” Sugarcoat cringed “—or whatever else. But we can learn together. Like, um... what’s your favorite movie?”
“Casablanca,” said Sugarcoat, in perfect imitation of Captain Renault. “The school has a copy and the theater room.”
“Then let’s go watch it.”
Sugarcoat bounced to her feet. “Follow me!” She grabbed Twilight’s hand and pulled her up, too, and in one fluid motion, she had the door open and the pair dashed down the hallway towards the theater on the other side of the school.
When they ducked into an alcove to avoid the eye of a passing hall monitor, Sugarcoat giggled. “Oh man, if I had known skipping class would be this much fun, I’d have done it ages ago!” she whispered between stifled giggles.
“Sugar!” Twilight hissed, “You didn’t tell me you were cutting class! You could get into trouble.”
Sugarcoat shot Twilight a sly, flirtatious look. “And who better to get into trouble with than the ultimate teacher’s pet?”
Twilight crossed her arms. “Hmph.”
“Come on, I think he’s gone.” Sugarcoat grabbed Twilight’s hand again and they were off. They scurried through the deserted halls and encountered no one else.
Twilight looked at an unmarked door on the floor above the entrance to the school’s theater. Sugarcoat had led her up to the projector level. The silver haired girl bumped the door knob in such a way that the door swung open in spite of being ‘locked’. She grabbed Twilight’s hand again tugged her inside before either could be spotted by any wandering eyes.
“Sit over there.” Sugarcoat pointed to a tall chair next to a humming bit of machinery, lenses, and wires. Twilight obeyed and watched as Sugarcoat flipped through stacks of little jewel cases with handwritten titles.
“Can I help?” Twilight offered. She fidgeted on the hard wooden surface underneath her.
Sugarcoat shook her head and continued flipping through cases. Their rhythmic clack was oddly soothing, an easy contrast to Sugarcoat’s nearly endless stream of muttered profanities directed at the “incompetent nincompoop who organized this by lead actor’s last name, alphabetical, descending.”
Several minutes in such a silence: the rustle of Twilight’s uniform as she fiddled with the hem of her skirt, the clack of jewel cases, and the mutters of annoyance.
“Ah ha!” Sugarcoat triumphantly held the jewel case containing Casablanca aloft. “Found it!” She popped the case open and slotted the DVD into a tray in the bank of audio-video equipment on the other side of the projector. A trumpet fanfare blared over the speakers in the theater below and a large Warner Brother’s logo appeared in black-and-white on the screen. “Come on, we have to get downstairs quickly!”
Twilight was again dragged by her hand from her seat and they practically sprinted down the hall to the stairs and took them two at a time until Sugarcoat yanked the door to the theater open and held it for Twilight. She stood still for a moment until Sugar’s head nodded inside. Twilight blushed and walked in.
By the time Twilight selected a seat in the middle of the theater, the fanfare was still going and credits rolled over a backdrop of Africa. Sugarcoat took the seat to her right, pulling her legs onto the seat and leaning against Twilight.
Twilight’s eyes never left the screen; she watched in muted awe as Rick, Isla, Sam, Captain Renault, Victor, and Major Strasser matched wits over the exit visas, lost love, and the perils of being a citizen driven from one’s home. Sugarcoat’s cheek was warm against her shoulder, and Twilight found herself leaned against the top of Sugarcoat’s head. Her hand was clasped in Sugar’s and she had a smile that just wouldn’t go away.
“Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
The movie faded to black and a end card came on the screen, but Sugarcoat made no move to get up. She had been snuggled to Twilight’s side for close to two hours and seemed intent on it lasting. The movie cut out entirely and the screen filled with bright white light. Twilight inhaled a deep breath.
“That was... amazing. Beautiful, moving. The techniques they used to achieve each shot, the little models for the planes, the total lack of any special effects...” Twilight gushed.
Sugar chuckled. “There’s a reason it’s my favorite. No one’s told a story quite like that before or since.”
Neither made a move to get up. Twilight did, however, lift her head from Sugarcoat’s. “Was this our first date?” she asked, turning from the screen to the girl on her side.
“If... if you want it to be. I’d like to do this again. Go on a date with you, I mean.” Sugarcoat nuzzled Twilight’s shoulder and then pecked her cheek. “If you’d like to, of course. Just...”
The unspoken rejection echoed in Twilight’s ears. The warmth lingered on her shoulder, and her cheeks burned bright red from Sugarcoat’s kiss, however brief.
Twilight nodded. “I could... I’d like that. Maybe, um, maybe we could visit the Sweet Shoppe? I heard from my friends that they do, uh, they do a decent dinner hour. I-if you’d like. I could, um, could take you. To dinner,” Twilight stumbled through her words and glanced at Sugarcoat, keeping her eyes focused intently on the seat in front of her. “I’d... I like this. I’m still not sure... I.... Maybe I was put off by your bluntness before, but it seems like you’re— like you’ll treat me well.”
“How about,” Sugarcoat trailed off with her finger resting on her chin, “tomorrow night? 6 o’clock? I could come by and pick you up?”
Twilight nodded vigorously and smiled. “Sure.”
The school bell rung again. Sugarcoat got up and pecked Twilight’s cheek once more. “I’ll see you then.”