February 9
I got off to a late start again. Not only was I up later than I ought to have been playing Durak, but I had to put new batteries in my flashing light so that I could go flying. The batteries are kind of like power crystals, but they look the same when they're charged or depleted, so you can't tell by looking how much power they have left. I could take a spare set in my flight vest, just in case.
But it was worth the wait. There was a low cloudbank over Kalamazoo, and I flew right up to the base of it and zipped around in the little tendrils of cloud that were dangling down from the main body. I even made a game out of seeing how close I could get to them without touching them, sort of like when Hiccup was flying on Toothless. Unlike the rocks in the movies, my passage broke up the clouds.
I thought about trying to make a one-mare cloud drill to see if I could suck some of it down in my wake, but besides the difficulty of doing it solo, I wasn't sure how the clouds would behave, and I'd probably get in trouble if I accidentally caused a tornado, even if it was very small and short-lived.
Regardless, I hadn't really stretched my wings in a couple of days, so it was really good exercise, and it was fun just to play in the sky, too.
On my way back to campus, I zipped over Aric's house, and just for fun, I left a trail of hoofprints on his porch roof. I know I'm not supposed to land on houses, but I was sure Aric wouldn't mind—he'd probably think it was funny. Hopefully Sara would see them out her window and tell him about them.
While I was flying back to campus, I thought that if I wanted to make sure he saw hoofprints, I ought to make them on the garage roof, too, so I went back and landed right on the peak and then made a bunch of hoofprints on the side of the roof that faced his house, and when I got to the bottom of the roof I glided off and then flew up and back to campus.
The problem with getting up late is if I'm too late, the shower is already taken by the late risers, and this time was no exception: I stuck my nose in the bathroom, and there was someone already in the shower.
So I went back to my room and took off my flight clothes, then went back to the bathroom, but it was still occupied, so I sat down on the little bench to wait my turn.
It felt like longer than it probably was before the shower turned off, and I waited what I thought was a decent interval, and still the girl inside didn't come out, so I knocked politely on the door. Sometimes girls like to groom themselves in the shower, especially if they don't think anybody's waiting for a turn.
And I was in luck! Brianna opened the shower door a crack and looked around before she looked down and saw me.
I told her I was sorry for bothering her but I had gotten a late start and needed to take a shower before class if she was done. She said that she still had to shave her legs, but she could stand off to the side and do that if I didn't mind. I said that was okay, it wouldn't bother me at all, so she put on her underwear and opened the door to let me in (I could have flown over, but that was rude).
I couldn't understand why it was fashionable for human girls to shave their legs, but then fashion has never been about practicality. Most gala dresses can't be flown in, and ponies that trim their winter coats have to wear something to keep warm.
Thanks to Brianna's kindness, I made it to poetry class in time and not smelling like sweat. Conrad doesn't tell us what poet we're going to be studying beforehoof, so I never know what to expect. I think he just decides on his way to class what he's in the mood for.
That's very wise of him. A few students grumble about it, but most of them like it, too.
He came into class with his usual warm, welcoming smile, and told us that we were going to read Robert Frost poems today.
We read a poem called The Road Not Taken, and Conrad asked the class what they thought. While a few students gave their thoughts, my mind was going in a different direction than them—taking a different road, maybe. I was thinking of what Peggy had said about me and Aric and how hard it might be . . . how hard it might go for him.
What if it wasn't a happy poem, like most of the class thought? Maybe the road not taken wasn't a pleasant road? Maybe that was why nobody took it.
Frost didn't say whether it was good or bad, just that it made all the difference.
I considered keeping quiet, but I couldn't, so I raised my hoof, and after he had called on other students, he called on me, and I told him what I thought.
Then another girl in class spoke up and said that what if we imagined this poem were written by a prisoner on the way to the gallows? (I didn't know what those were, so I had to look it up later.)
I still had that thought on my mind after class was over, and I was kinda moody at dinner. It wouldn't be nice of me to cause Aric suffering just because of who I was, and the kindest thing I could do would be to put some distance between us before things got tough. But I didn't want to—what did that make me?
Christine picked up on my mood right away, and she looked me right in the eye and asked 'why the long face?' Then Sean almost choked on his dinner, and Christine started laughing so hard she almost fell out of her chair. I just watched the two of them in total bewilderment: humans are really weird sometimes.
I couldn't tell them, because Peggy said I shouldn't, so I didn't really know what to do. I sort of suffered through dinner, trying to put on a brave face, but I wound up not really having much of an appetite at all and didn't finish my food, and then I felt guilty about that, especially when no one else wanted it and I had to send it back to the kitchen.
When I got back to our room, Peggy wasn't there, so I decided I was going to go flying again. Flying helps clear my head. I didn't feel like getting clearance, so I would just stay down low. I still took my blinking light, though, just to be safe.
I followed the railroad tracks away from the center of town.
I wasn't really thinking about where I might go, and before too long I wasn't really thinking at all, just flying. I let my bad thoughts drizzle away like rain out of a cloud, falling to the ground where they wouldn't bother me any more.
I really only came back to myself when I got to the 131 Highway. There was a big bridge that the tracks went under, and I couldn't decide whether I ought to fly over the bridge and the highway, or if I should fly under the bridge, so I hovered off to the side and considered it.
Tunnels can be dangerous—some ponies have tried to fly through them and gotten killed by trains. They look big, but they aren't much bigger than the train, and there isn't any room to fly around. This bridge looked plenty tall enough, but what if I was wrong? What if I'd only seen short trains before, and there were taller trains that needed all that height?
Well, it was a silly worry, really: trains aren't very sneaky, and the bridge wasn't that wide, plus of course it was open on both sides, so I could just fly to the side and there wouldn't be a problem. It wouldn't be crowded like a train tunnel.
The important thing was that it kind of knocked me out of my funk. I got to really considering what Peggy had said—that I didn't understand what problems Aric might face.
But he did! He wasn't me, and he wasn't ignorant when it came to Earth. So as long as I took it slow and easy and made sure to let him set the boundaries, there wouldn't be any issues.
That made me a lot happier, so I zipped back to campus. I had just picked up some altitude to fly over Hoben, when it occurred to me that maybe I could spend the night with Aric again, if he didn't mind (and I didn't think he would).
When I got there, though, Winston wasn't in the driveway. I sat on the roof for a little bit, but he didn't come back, so I finally flew back to my dorm.
Peggy wanted to know where I'd been, and she said that Christine had called her and said that I looked pretty down at dinner. I said that we'd read a sad poem in poetry class and it had affected me more than I thought it would. I don't think she believed me.