//------------------------------// // Symbolic Interactionism // Story: The Sunlight Theory // by Space Jazz //------------------------------// “You shook her hand?!” Somehow, Rarity’s emphasis on the word “shook” made it seem like I had personally attacked her. “I shook her hand,” I repeated, staring sheepishly at the ground. Out of nowhere, Rarity collapsed, her fall broken by Rainbow Dash and Applejack, both visibly annoyed at the fashionista’s melodramatic display of shock. “This is bad!” Rarity shrieked as the two lifted her back up. “You can’t just end a date on a handshake!” She kept talking, but her words began to blur until they faded away into the background. For some inexplicable reason, the scuff on my left shoe seemed like the most interesting thing in the world. My dad had a shoe-cleaning kit somewhere in the garage, and I made a mental note to ask him for it when I got home. “Twilight, are you even listening to me?” My head snapped back up, and Rarity rolled her eyes. “Sorry,” I said. “I was just thinking.” It wasn’t a lie. I was thinking, but I figured omitting the rest was the best course of action. The fashionista’s eyes flared. “Just thinking? Just thinking! You’re gonna need more than thinking, if you want to make this up to Sunset.” She was on the verge of fainting again before Applejack intervened and brought her to the nearest chair. Rarity’s boutique, which was really just her parent’s guest room, was a small, cramped workshop. Broken-down mannequins lined the walls, and rolls of fabrics were tossed in a corner to make room for the rest of the Rainbooms. “Quit bein’ such a drama queen, Rare,” Applejack scolded. “It’s not that bad.” “Not that bad?” Rarity asked. “Not even serenading Sunset with a boombox belting ‘In Your Eyes’ is going to fix this.” “Oh come on. I know I‘ve done worse on first dates!” Pinkie piped up, jumping into the conversation. “I think I might have even kissed the guy one time!” Applejack crossed her arms. “That’s exactly the problem, Pinkie. Twilight didn’t kiss Sunset. She didn’t even hug her.” “Oh,” the party girl hummed. “Well, was it a friendly ‘I’m not interested’ handshake, or was it an ‘I’m investing in our relationship; here’s to being business partners’ handshake?” “W-what?” I stammered. “I don’t know. How can you even tell?” Rainbow Dash cackled. “Well, was Sunset a limp fish or did she have a clammy palm when you shook her hand?” “Neither,” I answered. “She had a firm, dry grip.” Apparently, that was a joke. I only found that out when Rainbow snorted and added, “So, what was the commission on the timeshare you sold Sunset?” “It’s not funny, Rainbow,” the farm girl scolded. She turned back to me, looking past a mannequin statue in the way. “Twi, all ya have to do is tell her how you feel.” “Easier said than done,” I said under my breath. Fluttershy leaned in and brought her hand to my shoulder. “I’m pretty sure Sunset will understand that you were probably just nervous.” “Yeah,” I said, sighing. “I guess you’re right.” It was simple, really, but I couldn’t help but still feel reluctant. I just didn’t know what to tell her. Articulating my feelings wasn’t my strong suit, and I really only opened up to other people when I was backed into a corner. “We can talk to her and ask her how she felt about it.” Rarity offered, coming down from her hysterical panic. “We won’t mention anything you told us, but Sunset’s probably in the same situation you’re in. So, as her friends, we need to support her too.” “Yeah!” Pinkie cheered. “I just have to know how one of my bestest friends in the whole world thought about going on a date with one of my other bestest friends in the world!” She bounced up on the platforms of her feet, and her smile grew exponentially. “I never thought I’d see the day where my girl friends become girlfriends!” I chuckled, letting Pinkie’s extreme optimism lift my spirits a little. “Just promise us that you’ll actually talk to Sunset Shimmer openly,” Rarity said. “We all know what happened last time you refused to voice your feelings.” I nodded and winced at the thought, instinctively rotating my ankle. “I’ll try,” I said hesitantly. Rarity, noticing the slight waver in my voice, inched closer. “Hey, Twilight,” she said gently. “You shouldn’t feel so sorry for yourself. It’s bad for your complexion.” •·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·☀·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·• “You shook her hand?!” I must have really screwed up. “I’ll get the boom box,” Lemon Zest announced as she slid off from the bed in her dorm. Slipping on her shoes, she turned to the group of girls in the room. “Hey, Indy, does your dad still have the ride-on lawnmower?” Indigo Zap shrugged. “Probably.” Sugarcoat, sitting off across from me on a swivel chair, simply scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You guys watch too many movies.” “And you don’t watch enough,” Indigo shot back. “Do you really think re-enacting eighties movies is the right thing to do?” Sugarcoat sat up straight and crossed her arms. “Like, what if she doesn’t get the reference? All Twilight’s gonna do is look like an idiot holding a boombox while riding on a lawnmower.” “Given that she doesn’t drop it or crash into a wall first,” Sour Sweet added. Thinking about what Sugarcoat just said, I realized that Sunset probably hasn’t even seen either Say Anything or Can’t Buy Me Love, something that I’d have to fix myself—unless they also had versions of those movies in Equestria. I let out an amused huff as the name Neigh Anything came into mind. The others were still arguing about the merits of recreating coming of age films, so I coughed loudly and brought attention to the fact that I was still in the room. The rest of the Shadowbolts, pausing their argument, turned to me and smiled sheepishly. “Look,” Sugarcoat continued. “What Twilight needs to do is simple: just sit down and talk about her feelings in a constructive and meaningful way like any adult would.” Easier said than done, I thought. “Thanks, Mom,” snorted Indigo. “Are you going to supervise her playdate too?” “Fight me,” Sugarcoat quipped. “You wanna go?” Before the two could actually make a move, Sunny Flare butted in. “As much as I’d love to see you two flail around, we’re here to help Twilight, remember?” The two girls turned their attention toward me again and nodded sheepishly. “Have you talked to her since?” Sugarcoat asked. I shook my head. “Did she try to contact you?” I nodded. “Did you say anything back?” I shook my head and immediately winced. From their reactions, I didn’t need to guess that I had made the wrong decision. “Yeah…” Sunny Flare sighed. “You’re gonna want to talk to her.” Anxious, I stared at the wall. “B-but…” “I know what’s going on,” Sugarcoat announced. Abruptly, she stood up and made her way toward me. Without hesitating, she sat next to me. “I get it. You’re afraid of screwing things up. You get tense and curl up into a fetal position like the one you’re in right now.” “I’m… not…” I looked to the ground and quickly realized that I was hugging my knees. “Okay, fine.” “You’re shutting yourself off because you’re afraid of getting the big rejection when you know you’re so close.” Sugarcoat paused, most likely to phrase her next words. “All you have to do is go for it and let her know you still like her.” “Yeah,” I said quietly. “You’re right.” Sugarcoat huffed. “And will you quit feeling sorry for yourself?” “It’s bad for your complexion,” Lemon Zest added, holding back a laugh at the reference of another eighties film—Sixteen Candles, the exact same movie and line Rarity had recited. “Can you not?” Sugarcoat snapped. I thought about what Sugarcoat said. Her verbal lashing was all true—it hurt, but she had a point. Admittedly, the psychoanalysis made me feel more self-conscious, but it definitely gave me a starting point to make myself better. It was my own nervous energy that caused this whole problem to begin with. I just needed to admit it, move on, and hopefully be able to talk to Sunset Shimmer without falling apart. I bit the side of my cheek. “Why can’t my life play out like an eighties teen romance?” Sugarcoat chuckled. “‘Cause this is real life, and it doesn’t wrap up neatly in an hour and a half. Plus, the people in those movies have a team of writers behind them.” “Well, mine are out to spite me,” I groaned. Sighing, I let go of my knees and moved to a lying position. Not really knowing what to do, I stared at the ceiling. It took some serious thought, but I had finally resolved to talk to Sunset when school started up in two days. But still, I needed to figure out how to make it up to her. “Have you figured out what to do?” Indigo asked. Sitting up to face her, I shook my head. “Not exactly, but I’ll think of something.” “Twilight,” Sour Sweet called soothingly. She inched closer and brought a reassuring hand to my shoulder. “You know, if it doesn’t work out, you can always run away to Mexicolt.” •·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·☀·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·• For some reason, Cadance’s house managed to capture the warm, cozy feeling of a grandmother’s home while still having the modern interior design and amenities of the twenty-first century. It may have had something to do with the bowl of hard candy on the coffee table, the fact that tea was always brewing, or maybe it was because of the porcelain unicorns littered around the living room. I also couldn't really explain why I felt more comfortable there than in my own room. I sank deep into the absurdly soft sofa, knowing full well that I’d have to be pulled out by force when it was time to go home. Cadance was off in the kitchen, tending to the perpetually brewing tea while humming a show tune to herself. The phone in my pocket vibrated. As expected, Rarity had sent me a text. “She said she had fun, but she really wants to talk with you.” I stared at the message, rereading it over and over. I sent her, “Anything else?” but Rarity’s responses after that didn’t really help much. She probably kept the same promise of secrecy with Sunset like she did with me, and I couldn’t ask her to play favorites. Still, I couldn’t help but wish I was in the room when they talked. Suddenly feeling anxious, I toyed around with my phone, visiting the Cute Critter Corner page on MyStable as an escape from my whole blunder at the end of my first date. A video of bathing baby sloths was exactly what I needed to get my mind off things. But even still, I’d have to talk to Sunset eventually. Or I could get another bus ticket. Running away wasn’t really in my mind after the whole “Kiosk Incident,” but Sour Sweet’s suggestion had made it seem like a viable option. Although instead of Mexicolt, I’d still rather go to Manehattan, where I had family and a place to stay. In the end, I decided to put everything off to watch a herd of cows play in the sun, nuzzling the grass after a winter spent inside a barn. Cadance shuffled in and carefully set down the tray of tea onto the coffee table. “So, how’s life, Twilight?” she asked, joining me on the couch. I shrugged. “Okay, I guess.” “Twilight,” she called softly. “Is something wrong?” “Not really.” She nodded and grabbed a cup from the table. Taking a sip, she hummed skeptically. “You do realize I was your babysitter and your guidance counselor before I became a dean? I can tell when you’re upset.” I clicked on another video and sunk deeper into the couch, hoping to disappear completely. Scooting closer, Cadance peered over my shoulder. “Are those baby pigs? Is it really that bad?” “Look, they’re running an obstacle course,” I said feebly, passing over my phone in an attempt to change the subject. “Twilight,” she said sternly. “You’re dodging my questions.” “This one’s playing with a puppy.” “Do you want to talk about it?” “No thanks.” Cadance sighed. “I’ll buy you a little piglet if you tell me.” I scoffed. “I’ve done the research. They’re huge when they grow up and ridiculously expensive.” “The offer still stands.” I chuckled halfheartedly and let the conversation fade out from there. Cadance, ever so patient, stayed with me, sipping her tea. After a minute or so of uncomfortable silence, she stood up from the couch and left the room. She came back, holding a rather large picture book. “Well,” she started, “if I can’t help you with your problems, maybe you can help with mine.” Falling back onto the sofa, Cadance flipped over to a marked page. There were several assortments of flowers printed on it, along with their names, scientific genus, and their symbolic meanings. On the top of the page was the phrase, “Wedding Flowers,” written in metallic blue. “Is this for the bouquet?” I asked. “The centerpieces, actually,” she answered. “I’m going traditional and getting a bouquet of roses for the bouquet.” She passed over the book. “Here, point out what catches your eye.” “Neat.” I thumbed through the following pages. I pointed toward a group of pink peonies, part of the Paeoniaceae family. Its symbolic meaning revolves around a prosperous, happy marriage, so it seemed like the best fit. “These are cute,” I remarked superficially. “They’re also going to be in season in the summer.” “Good call,” she said, reaching for a marker and circling the picture. “Maybe I should bring you on as a consulting wedding planner.” Ignoring her teasing laugh, I rolled my eyes and sunk back into the couch. “Did my parents tell you about that?” “Yes, yes they did,” she said, an amused smile forming on her lips. “Your mother also told me you fell for the ‘parent always answers the door’ trick.” “Yeah, I guess.” She leaned over and jerked my shoulder playfully. “Come on, Twily. You were there when she pulled that on Shining. You should’ve known better.” “I know.” “Although,” she started, “I’m kind of glad she did that back then.” I clawed myself out from the couch’s depths. “What? Why? She did nothing but embarrass everyone involved.” “At the moment, yes,” she admitted. “But afterward, I realized that she did it to break the ice.” “With a jackhammer,” I muttered under my breath. “True, but it was still broken nonetheless.” She toyed around with her engagement ring. “Plus, she gave us something real to talk about. I don’t know what we would have talked about if it wasn’t for the video of your brother’s third-grade band concert.” In that moment, my mother had ascended from plain evil to an evil genius. I remembered sitting on the couch when Cadance showed up for their first date. My mother sat her down and put on the video, and I watched both Cadance’s amusement and Shining’s utter horror at every cracked note his younger self made. Little did I know that my mom was planning the same thing for me at the time. The fact that the picture of my pageant dress actually sparked a conversation made me unsure whether to include my mother in any future relationship problems. I thought about what she was saying. “How was your first date with my brother?” “Terrible,” she answered abruptly, laughing a bit afterward. “But I wouldn’t change a single moment.” I wondered if Sunset was thinking the same thing. It was a possibility, especially since most of the embarrassing events were at my expense. But still, I had to make up for the handshake. It had to be something personal, meaningful, something that says both “I’m sorry” and “I am still interested in dating you.” As if fate took mercy on me, the exact answer was right under my nose. Like, literally under my nose. I looked down at the book in my hands, almost kicking myself at how obvious it was. Flowers are a staple gift for people in relationships. How did I not think of it? Say It with Flowers was a book that detailed the hidden symbolism of flowers and many other plants. This was the sort of thing I could get behind. It was personal yet indirect, which I quickly realized was my style of communication. Plus, I could voice my feelings without actually voicing them. For example, roses had the most meanings attached to them, having different representations based on both color and number. A single rose meant devotion, two (intertwined) meant “marry me,” six was the need to be loved, and thirteen meant a secret admirer. If only I knew the last meaning a month ago. At first, I considered getting Sunset a rose, but that thought quickly spiraled into a circle of doubt; I couldn’t decide on the color. Red, meaning love, was the obvious choice, but it could be interpreted as desperate or clingy on my part. Yellow symbolized friendship, but in Victorian times it represented jealousy. The last thing I wanted was some sort of miscommunication. The abundance of choices made it hard to decide. Plus roses had a deeply romantic meaning that carried too much weight behind them. I couldn’t risk scaring her away if she accidentally interpreted a rose as a declaration of love right after the first date. Examining the book again, I decided it was best to research it some more and give it some real thought before I committed to putting my heart out there. “Hey, Cadance,” I called, holding up the book for her to see. “Can I borrow this?” She nodded. “Of course—I’m all done with it. The only reason I kept it around was because I had hoped Shining would stumble upon it and surprise me with flowers.” Chuckling, I stuffed the book in my bag. “Please, he wouldn’t get the hint if you told him yourself.” “Well then maybe you should tell him for me,” she proposed playfully. “Even when you’re getting married, I’m still playing the wingwoman for the two of you.” Cadance laughed. “I’d repay the favor if you’d let me.” I smiled and gestured to the book in my bag. “Thanks, but I think I’m good.” •·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·☀·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·• Stepping off the city bus, I slung my backpack over my shoulder, careful not to jostle my gift for Sunset. I had spent the night reading the book, looking for a plant that said what I needed to say. After a few hours of reading, I finally decided on the flower with the perfect combination of originality, subtlety, and meaning to present my feelings. The morning was spent dodging Sunset. Wanting to delay my talk with her, I took the long way to my first period English class, walking through the school library and even hiding in the hallway that was never properly lit. It was all worth it to ensure that neither Sunset nor the girls caught me with my choice of flower. Staring down at the ground, I shuffled slowly into the classroom. I knew Sunset was sitting in the back left of the room as usual, but I pretended not to notice her. For once, I thanked the fact that Mrs. Harshwhinny preferred assigned seats. Droning on about the proper use of dangling modifiers, the teacher wrote across the white board. I followed along, taking notes to keep my mind off of Sunset. About halfway through the class, I felt the phone in my pocket vibrate, but I chose to ignore it because it might have been Sunset. I knew I was delaying the inevitable, but I couldn’t help it. I cringed as the bell rang. Unable to think of anything else, I pretended to look through my backpack. As I had suspected, Sunset stopped at my side, taking a seat on top of the desk to my right. “Hey, Twilight,” she said softly. In the moment, I wanted to tell her how sorry I was, how much I wanted to take the handshake back. I wanted to tell her that I had fun on the date and that I wanted to be around her more. I wanted to tell her that I should have kissed her. I wanted to ask her to be my girlfriend. Instead, I just simply said, “Hi.” She huffed through her nose and rubbed at her elbow. “So, how’s life?” “Good,” I answered plainly. We let the conversation lull, or at least what little there was of one, and I assumed that she was just as hesitant to speak as I was. Welp, here goes nothing. “I got you something,” I said, rather stiffly. Sunset gripped the edges of the desk she was sitting on. “You did?” “Yeah. It’s to make up for the way our date ended...” “Oh,” she hummed. “You didn’t have to.” “I don’t really know how else to say it… so here.” Without another word, I dug into my backpack, carefully pulling out a smaller paper bag. As I pulled out the clay pot, I watched Sunset’s eyes flare in surprise. “Oh, wow, it’s a... cactus,” she announced, her voice sounding unsure. “No offense, but why?” I placed the potted plant onto the desk before turning back to her. “The cactus, due to its thriving in its harsh environment, symbolizes endurance.” “Endurance, huh?” She lightly swung her legs from the edge of the desk. Feeling my stomach tighten, I lightly tugged at one of the white flowers on top of the tiny round plant. “Despite all the hardships of the desert, it endures. No matter how difficult it is, its flowers bloom and the cactus thrives.” I stared at the ground, studying the tiles. My heart was pounding, and my face was heating up. I gritted my teeth, hoping she wasn’t weirded out by the metaphor. “Twilight, are you… asking me to go steady with you?” I winced before nodding. “Yes… in a sense.” She put her hand on my shoulder, and I immediately turned to face her. I expected a slight frown or even a furrowed brow, but there was a light smile on her face. “All you had to do was ask.” The answer immediately lifted all the nervous weight from my body. “Does that mean...” “Yes,” she said. “Yes, it does.” “Huh…”