“So this is where you go to be alone?” says Pinkie, confused.
“Yahuh,” I say non-committally.
“But it’s right in the middle of the school grounds!”
The spot in question is a small hill in a prominent spot on the school grounds, with a large tree on the top, which I and my two tagalongs are lying under.
“The hill gives me a good all round view, while the shade of the tree gives me privacy.”
“And I guess no one comes up here?”
“Only if they know what's good for them.”
“Pinkamena!”
“What? I let the kicked puppy tag along, what more do you want from me?”
Pinkie thinks about it. “Well… for a start, stop deliberately distancing yourself from everyone, make friends, stop being a meanypants, smile a lot and don’t refer to Lyra as a kicked puppy, it's not nice.”
“You did.”
“But that was a simile. Besides she can’t hear me.”
“So it’s alright to give people demeaning nicknames when they can’t hear you?”
“That's not what I meant!”
“It’s what you said.”
“No I didn’t!”
While Pinkie pouts up a storm, I notice that the ‘kicked puppy’ is currently giving a look of complete confusion and apprehension, clearly wanting to ask, but afraid to do so.
I save her the effort. “I wasn’t joking earlier about the imaginary friend, although friend might be a bit of a stretch, more of a general irritant that I can’t get rid of.”
“Oh… OK,” says Lyra, still not any less confused, but further dissuaded from asking.
I sigh and open my lunch box, surveying its remaining contents. I pass the box over to Lyra. “Here.”
“Huh?” she exclaims.
“I promised you some food if you were still hungry, I’ve already eaten the sandwiches, but there should be something in here to tide you over for the rest of the day, take your pick.”
“Oh! Um, thank you,” says Lyra, off balance. “Wow, it um, all looks… very sweet,” she finishes lamely.
“Like I said, I had already eaten the sandwiches, got a problem with sweet?”
“Oh no, It’s just... rather unexpected is all,” she says, picking out a large cupcake decorated with icing and sprinkles.
“You mean you expected my tastes to reflect my sour personality?”
“What? No! I mean, well, not in those words exactly,” she says.
“Stop putting words in people's mouths,” whispered Pinkie. “It makes people uncomfortable.”
“That's my intention,” I say.
“What?” says Lyra.
“Wasn’t talking to you, Strings,” I say.
“Oh.”
A small silence follows, but Lyra’s face suggests she has something she wants to ask.
“You have a question, spit it out,” I say. “And for Faust’s sake please stop exclaiming ‘Oh’.”
“What? O- um, I mean, well, that is…”
“Jeez, just take a breath,” I say.
She stops her babbling, and takes a deep breath.
“Now, slowly now, what do you have to ask?”
Slightly red in the cheeks, most likely from being ordered around like an idiot, Lyra asks. “I just wanted to ask, why do you call me Strings?”
I raise my eyebrow. “That all? Simple, your name takes too much effort to pronounce, your surname is Heartstrings, so I call you Strings. Problem with that?”
“No, it just seems... surprisingly casual, is all.”
I shrug. “Maybe, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to put effort into saying someone's name.”
Something else seems to be bothering Lyra, but she doesn’t seem ready to speak yet, so I pick up one of my cupcakes and let her stew in her thoughts.
‘None of this makes sense.’ I think, as I slowly nibble away at the cupcake I was given.
That's what it felt like, this day has been confusing. This morning, I got transferred to a new homegroup, made made the first sorta-friend since I got to this Faust-forsaken school, still wind up alone for lunch, end up sitting on the table with someone my new friend says is the most dangerous person in school, get singled out as usual for bullying by Black Saturday, out of the blue the dangerous person defends me, then the next thing I’m sitting under a tree with said dangerous person sharing her lunch. Needless to say I am having trouble keeping up with my life at this point.
It occurs to me that I haven’t thanked Pinkamena yet for defending me. “Hey um, Pinkamena.”
“Yes?”
“I just thought I would thank you, you know, for helping me back there,” I say, too abashed to look her in the face.
“While that’s sweet and all, you really shouldn’t be thanking me for that.”
“Huh? Why not?”
She sighs. “Saturday was annoying me, so I lashed out at her so get her to shut up, When I brought you with me, it was to piss her off further by openly defying her. if anything I’ve probably made it worse for you.”
This makes my hair stand on end. “Worse?”
“She knows she can’t get back at me directly, but you were sitting at my table, and I seemingly defended you, so she might use you as a way of indirectly attacking me.”
“...Oh,” I say, deflating.
“Sorry kid, but that's how I see it.” she says.
I sit there in silence, letting what Pinkamena said sink in. Black Saturday was bad enough before, and now she has even more reason to bully me. My days were suddenly looking a whole lot bleaker.
Suddenly a little voice in my head spoke up. ‘What are you going on about? Stop feeling sorry for yourself, you’re missing a huge opportunity here!’
‘Huh?’ I think.
‘Think about it, you may be facing down more torture at the hands of Black Saturday, but you are sitting next to the perfect counter, the only student who will stand up to Black Saturday!”
‘What? But how-’
‘It doesn’t matter how, but you’ve gotta try, or otherwise it’s Black Saturday.’
At that moment Pinkamena gets up and starts walking away. “Ten minutes ‘til class, better get moving.”
“Um, wait a minute! Please!” I blurt out.
She turns to face me and raises her eyebrow.
I scamble to my feet and take a deep breath to organise my thoughts. “I just wanted to ask, that, um, maybe if you don’t mind too much, if I could perhaps… you know, hang out, you know, while at school, with you. Please?”
Pinkamena’s eyebrow somehow raises further and I swear I see a tiny spark of surprise. “I’m sorry, are you serious?”
“I’m not saying we have to be friends or anything if you don’t want to, I’d just like to, maybe, tag along with you while at school. I promise I won’t get in the way or anything!” I plead. “Please just consider it.”
Pinkamena shakes her head, I don’t think you fully know what you're asking.”
"Oh come on Pinkamena, you owe her for dropping her in the deep doo-” says the possibly non-existent horse, before Pinkamena cut her off.
“No, you both listen,” says Pinkamena, seemingly directing her words at the ground in between us. “I get it, you're frightened by the big bad Saturday, and you want some sort of protection, but are you seriously going to enlist me as some sort of bodyguard? What do you seriously think will happen if suddenly I had you following me around all over the place? The big bad loner suddenly getting a tag along, do you think people won’t notice? Do you think Saturday will take it lying down? The price for me accepting this little proposal is suddenly get a whole lot of attention that I don’t want, did you consider that? No, of course you didn’t, no one ever does.” She turns on her heel. “See you around, Strings.” With that she walks off.
I stand there, too stunned to move, my head slowly drooping. My one chance, and I blew it.
Thinking about it, I guess it is a little selfish to expect someone like her to stick out her neck like that. I mean, what had I done for her?
But that doesn’t change the fact that now I am now alone again.
Unnoticed by myself tears start to well in my eyes.
Just me and Black Saturday, and all the little nasty things she can dream up.
One slowly slides down my cheek.
Sure, Ditzy’s kind of my friend, but after Saturday catches wind, how long will that last?
They really start flowing,
Lets face it I’m well and truly...
Alone.
As I walk down the hill I am suddenly confronted with the face of Pinkie Pie level with my own. She has a bundle of balloons tied to her middle which were apparently keeping her afloat. Instead of the angry or grumpy face I was expecting she wears one of complete dejection. Her hair has gone limp, surprisingly reminiscent of my own.
“What? You're gonna preach some more? I’ve already made my decision,” I say, crossing my arms.
“I know you find me annoying, but please, hear me out,” pleads Pinkie. “While I don’t understand your decision, I know it means a lot to you, but you have to turn around.
“Why should I? How could I possibly benefit from having someone like that tagging along all over the place?”
“Please, just turn around.”
“I already said-.”
“I’m not saying you have to care, just turn around and look,” says Pinkie. “Just turn around, and if you still don’t care, then I promise... I’ll leave you alone.”
I raise my eyebrow. “Seriously? That's all? just turn around look, and then you’ll be out of my hair?”
Pinkie nods mutely.
I release a heavy sigh. “Fine, I’ll humour you.”
I turn around.
Back on the hill, exactly where I left her, is Lyra.
Crying.
I feel a pair of hands on my shoulders, I look up to the very annoyed face of Pinkamena.
“Alright fine, you made your damn point, you can follow me around if you want, just stop the bloody waterworks.”
“Wuh?” I sniff.
“You heard me Strings, now are you gonna stop crying or do I have to slap you?”
I straighten up, startled. “What um, no, I’m good.” I rub my eyes quickly. “See?”
Pinkamena takes her hands from my shoulders and starts walking down the hill. “Good, now are you gonna come or what? I ain’t gonna be late because of you.”
I scamper after her and fall in behind.
“Just do what I say and don’t expect any favours, remember that and we’ll get along just fine. And not a word from you!” she says, the last part addressed to the air next to her.
“Yes ma’am.” I say, wondering just what I’ve gotten myself into.
Never-the-less, after the gloom I had just experienced, I suddenly feel a whole lot better. Hell, I felt like a million dollars, for the first time since I got to this school things were looking up, I had a sorta friend, someone badass to protect me from bullies, and somewhere to sit safely at lunch. I wasn’t in the same homegroup as Saturday anymore, nor in any of the same classes.
“You’re smiling,” notes Pinkamena.
Her voice jolts me back to reality. “Oh sorry, I was just-”
“Don’t be,” she says, cutting me off. “It looks good on you, do it more often.”
I stop, stunned, before beaming. “Yes ma’am!”