The Four Seasons for Quintet

by CrackedInkWell

Autumn, 1st Movement.

For many, it seemed that summer has ended and school has started a little too soon. Their three months of rest from study and worrying about what their grades will be wasn’t enough, but the calendar says otherwise.

Even for teachers, who wished they could manipulate the length of time on their snooze buttons, marched towards the high school with the discipline of zombies. All except for the sun principal that looked like the only one that was not only fully awake but peppy with her greetings as well.

“Good morning,” she would say to one teacher that muttered something. “Welcome back,” to another that was clenching onto a cup of coffee in hopes to bring them back to reality, “Ready for another day of teaching?”

“You’re just enjoying this, aren’t you?” Mr. Disc grumbled. “Seriously, what sort of illegal substance are you taking to be this awake?”

Principal Celestia rolled her eyes, “What can I say? I’ve always been a morning person. So how was your summer?”

“It was all going well until the alarm clock ruined it this morning. One moment, I was having van Gogh’s dream, where ponies and chickens were sneezing under the stars while the pecans were banging on the door to keep it down, the next, I’m here.”

“So a typical morning than?” she asked. He nodded and said something about heading towards the teacher’s lounge. A few more teachers and students showed up, familiar faces just gave her a nod or said their good morning’s before they entered the building.

Then she spotted Harmonic’s car pulled up to the parking lot of the school with that said teacher getting out. Taking his violin case with him, he went up to Celestia. “I hope I’m not too late?”

“Oh no, you’re still on time. How are you this morning?”

“I think I’ll be okay myself. What about you? You said that you and your sister went on vacation a while ago didn’t you?”

She smiled, “We did. It was quite the experience that I wished you could have been there yourself.”

“Being a pony?”

“You’d be surprised.”

The orchestra teacher looked down at his hands, “No thanks,” he said lifting up his left hand, “I’d prefer being a creature that has some of these.”

“Well you’re no fun,” she teased. “How was summer for you?”

He shrugged, “It was there I suppose. Kept me busy with some music lessons here and there, and Script has set a date on when he and his fiancé are getting married.”

“Oh that’s good, when is it?”

“The week before Christmas,” Harmonic looked at his watch, “I’m afraid I need to go set things up.”

“That’s alright, see you around.”

He nodded as he went inside. Soon enough, the rest of the students and faculty had arrived. Once the morning bell was rung, singling for the five minutes until classes start, Celestia herself went inside towards her office to personally great her new and old students over the loud-speakers.

_*_

“Welcome to P.E., name’s Spitfire and I’ll be your instructor for this trimester,” the woman of the flaming hair told her second period students. “Now before you lot go change into your workout clothes, I should think it’s a good idea that I should introduce myself for those who don’t know. I am an ex-drill Sargent for the U.S. military, in-particularly for the Air Force. This means that I am used to teaching discipline when I see fit. But don’t you worry all that much, I’ll try to go easier than the recruits at boot camp. However, I do expect out of you is that every single one of you should be here on time and be dismissed only when I say so. When you walk through those doors to the gym, all of you are expected to work together as a team and to respect each other as such. For the only way that any of you can possibly fail my class is if you do nothing, so I’ll be watching. Also, whenever any of you address me, the first and last thing that should be coming out of your mouths is ‘Ma’am’. Above all, unless given me some kind of paper work, you will do whatever I say, and you’ll do it, am I clear?”

“Ma’am yes ma’am,” her students replied.

“C’mon, you could do better than that! Louder!”

“MA’AM YES MA’AM!”

She smiled, “Better, now all of you, go get change, you’ve got five minutes.”

So with that, her students got up and went to their respective locker rooms. Among those who were going in, Soarin pat Braeburn’s shoulder, “Well buddy, what you think of Spitz?”

“Other than a bit intimidating then Pa threatenin’ with a belt in his hand, not too bad Ah guess,” his yellow friend said awkwardly as they entered along with the rows of lockers and benches. “Still, at least we get ta be in the same class.”

“No kidding, it’s like old times in a way.” The aqua athlete chose a locker and started to unpack. “I’d think you’re gonna like Ms. Spitfire’s P.E., she's usually leaning towards games for exercising,” at this he took off his shirt, “Which I think is going to be fun the way I see it.” When his friend didn’t respond, Soarin looked over to find that not only his back was turned, but his face was turning red. “Hey, you alright buddy?”

“Uh… Soar,” the cowboy said, “Could ya… you know… turn around?”

“Turn around? What do you… Oh,” realizing this Soarin blushed a bit too. “Oh, sure thing man.” He turned around, “Sorry, I kinda forget about ya sometimes.”

“No. No yer fine,” Braeburn started changing himself. “Y'all can’t help it, but fer me it’s kinda awkward. Besides, it’s a little rude ta stare.”

Soarin snorted, “I don’t know, I guess it’s kinda a compliment.”

“But there’s still other people around,” his friend quietly pointed out. “Jus’ don’t wanna attract any unwanted attention, if ya know what Ah mean.”

“Right,” he nodded. “Trying to be careful and all huh?”

“Uh-huh, let’s jus’ hurry now.”

Soarin agreed and slipped on his gym clothes before he and Braeburn exited out the locker room.

During their second period, Spitfire had her students do a few laps around the large room, followed by push-ups, crunches, and pull-ups. For the remainder, the teacher had them play basketball where the class was divided up in two teams and the ex-drill Sargent kept score.

While this game was going on, Soarin spotted someone waving him over to the sidelines, “I’m gonna take a breather,” he told Braeburn, “Be back in a sec.” Walking over, he found that the one that was waving him over was, “Thunderlane? Hey dude, haven’t seen ya in a while.”

“Hey man,” the white Mohawk student shook his hand, “How’s your summer?”

“Pretty good, but what about you, aren’t you gonna join up on the Wondercolts again this year?”

“Of course, and I’m trying to get my little bro on the team since he’s just started High School here.”

“Cool.”

Thunderlane looked back at the basketball court to where Soarin’s best friend was trying to block somebody with the ball. “Mind if I talk to ya real quick.”

“Go ahead.”

“It’s about that guy, over there,” he pointed to the orange haired cowboy. “You know ‘em?”

“Yeah, that’s my best friend. Why?”

“Nothing much,” he said leaning over, “It’s just that I’ve heard a rumor about him but I’m not exactly sure if it’s true or not.”

“Like what?”

Thunderlane whispered, “Is it true the guy’s gay?”

Soarin was taken by surprise, “Where’d you hear that?”

“Applebloom and Rubble where hanging out the other day and I heard something that a cousin of hers like other dudes. I’m not sure if she mentioned who exactly, but I know that he’s a relative of hers somehow.” He turned to the blue Wondercolt, “Is it him?”

Soarin didn’t say anything for a moment, “Why’d you think it’s him?”

“I don’t know, he seemed to really follow ya around ever since we got in here, like a shadow so I kinda put two and two together. Look, I know you just said that you’re best friends and all, but that guy hasn’t done anything weird around ya, has he?”

“Uh… no?”

He sighed in relief, “Okay, good. Just checking is all. But Soar, if that guy does something weird, or even looks at you funny,” here, Thunderlane planted his fist against his hand, “You know who to talk to. Kay?”

A sense a dread was felt that Soarin tried to repressed, “Uh, sure,” he said as he started to head out, “I’ll need to get back in the game.”

“Sure thing, see ya around.”

While he tried to catch up to Braeburn, the blue athlete couldn’t help but feel a bit unsafe than usual. After all, he’s been going out with his best friend for half of the summer. Heck, they’re still dating. And although what he heard from a fellow student and Wondercolt was aimed at the framer, he couldn’t help but think what would happen if he knew what was really going on.

“Hey,” Braeburn who was nearly out of breath snapped him out of his thoughts, “You okay?”

“Um… yeah,” he lied, “let’s get back to the game.”

_*_

A few days later, the Orchestra teacher was prepared for the fourth period. Up at front of the class, a stand-up piano waited for a particular student. Before the bell rang, students had already invaded the room with their sheet music, their instruments, and some backpacks. Among them, Lyra and Bon Bon entered, talking about something that the teacher himself wasn’t paying attention to.

When the bell rang, however, Harmonic looked up from his desk to find that his class was full. “Good afternoon class, how’s everybody?” many told him that they were good. “So before we start, what do you guys want to do first? Jackson or Beethoven?”

Many of them agreed on the Beethoven piece that they’ve chosen.

With that, the Violinist waved for Sweetie Drops to make her way towards the piano. “In that case, strings, make sure you have your bows rosen and tighten, everyone else rests for a bit.” He turned to the pianist with a book of the music in her hand. “Have you practiced it?”

“A little bit,” she sat down on the bench, “It’s not that hard to play anyway.”

“We’ll see.” He turned to his little orchestra, “So that we’ve recapped last week about the B Major scale, we’ll be now taking a look at the second movement of Beethoven’s Second movement of his Emperor Concerto. If you haven’t taken a look at the pacing of this, you’ll be pleased that it’s Adagio un poco mosso. In English, it means to play it very slowly and smoothly. To start out, we’ll layer this out, beginning with our soloist and strings.”

Here, Harmonic opened up the violin case and took out his violin, “I’ll be playing with you. We’ll pay it straight first, but once we’re done, we’ll come back and I’ll give my feedback to you. Oh, and don’t worry so much about getting all the right notes, for today, you’ll be leaning from your mistakes.”

With a push from the tip of his bow, the teacher set the weight on his metronome in motion. Setting the unhurried beat for the piece, “Whenever you’re ready,” Harmonic said, putting his bow on the strings.

Sweetie opened her sheet music. It shouldn’t be too hard, sure, they’ll be working on a key that has five sharps, but they’ve already covered it last week. Even the piano part doesn’t look that difficult either, she convinced herself that she could do this when she waved for the other students to begin.

Violin’s, Violas and Cellos began their clam, if not a bit off tune melody. Harmonic could see that many of them were nervous as their bows tried to glide over each bar and to each mechanical beat of the metronome. Some of them had missed a note while others had the wrong bow positions.

But when it came for her to begin with her feet on the pedals, her hands pressing the keys in a downward scale with her right hand, there was a hint of beauty among the unprepared orchestra. Even though she too have missed a few notes herself or gone off beat a few times, there was something about those dreamlike notes that seemed a bit familiar to her.

By the time she and the orchestra had finished, the Orchestra teacher said, “Okay, I think I know what we need to be working on for you guys. And by the looks on your faces, I can tell that you already know what needs work. For Ms. Drops, for a first attempt, that was not too bad. Although, be a little more gentle next time around, alright?”

Several reattempts mistimed notes and some critiques from the teacher, the bell rang for the beginning of lunch. Harmonic put away his violin when he was approached by Lyra and Bon Bon, “Can I help you, ladies?”

“We were just wondering,” the Harpist started, “Would it be too much trouble if we can have lunch with you?”

“The both of you?” they nodded. With a sigh, he added, “Do you have your lunches or do you need to get them in the cafeteria?”

“Why’d you ask?” Sweetie inquired.

“Because I usually have my lunch in the teacher’s lounge. But if you want, I can invite the both of you in.”

“Okay, we’ll go grab them real quick and meet you over there.”

With a nod, their teacher left his classroom and headed towards the lounge. Navigating through swirling clusters and dashing students that hurried to get in line before it becomes too long.

“Hey, Mr. H?” he looked up to find not only Braeburn there, but Soarin Cloudline as well, holding paper bags in their hands.

“Hm?”

“We were wonderin’ if it ain’t too much trouble if we could have lunch with ya,” the cowboy asked, “Soar and Ah wanted ta talk with ya.”

Harmonic raised an eyebrow, “What for?”

“Well,” Soarin spoke up, “Something’s come up and we were hoping that you might help a bit.”

Sighing, their teacher singled them to follow him into the forbidden door in which students aren’t normally aloud. After telling the on looking teachers that they’re with him, Harmonic chosen a table and told them to wait while he gets his lunch. Walking over to the fridge, he took out the plastic box with his name on it; put it in the microwave to warm it up while noticing that there was someone missing from the lounge.

“Pasta again?” looking up, he found Mr. Disc; having a Thanksgiving spread on the ceiling.

“Tortellini in Alfredo sauce,” the Orchestra teacher replied, “and how were your morning classes?”

“Getting better,” Julius started carving up the turkey. “You wanna trade something?”

“No, I’m good.” He looked down to the two boys who looked up with awe.

Soarin was the first to speak what was on both of their minds, “How-”

“It’s Mr. Disc,” Harmonic answered when the timer went off, “It’s best not to question it.”

“Hey you two,” Julius singled at the students, “Any of you wanna trade?”

“Ah guess,” Braeburn answered without taking his eyes off of the upside-down spread.

“What ya got?”

He dumped out his bag onto the table, out tumbled an apple, a can of cola, a ham sandwich, a bag of sour cream and onion chips, and a slice of apple pie in a plastic wrap.

The Art teacher put a hand underneath his chin in thought. “How about I trade you a couple of rolls for the chips and the soda for a cup of cider?”

“Sound’s great, except Ah don’t know how ta give it to ya without having any of it landin’ on ma face.”

With a snap of his fingers, the bag of chips and soda floated upwards while a couple of rolls and a cup of cider drifted downwards, “You were saying?” Mr. Disc asked.

“Julius, stop it,” Harmonic said as he walked to the table with his lunch in hand. “You’re showing off again.”

“And you’re being boring,” the Violinist ignored that remark as he sat down.

“Anyways, what do you two want to talk about? Is it about your grades or something?”

“Not… really,” Soarin admitted. “As of late, I’m starting to get concern here – over safety.”

This got a raised eyebrow from Harmonic, “How so?”

He sighed and looked over to his friend, “Well, more of his actually,” he pointed over to him. “You see, gym class is the only period in which we’re together. Which is great and all, except there’s someone there that’s thinking that Brae might be getting a little too close to me.”

“There is?” Braeburn’s face paled, “Who?”

“Hey, come down man, I don’t think it’s nothing too serious, but…”

“But, what?” their teacher inquired, “Are you concerned that he might get hurt by another student?”

“In a way,” the athlete admitted, “But the thing is since school had started, he came to me asking if Brae was acting a little ‘too weird’ around me, and that he would… you know, beat him or something if he was. The problem is, I know Thunderlane too since he’s on the Wondercolts, and a good teammate.”

“Wait,” the farmer objected, “there’s a fella in Gym class that might wanna hurt me, and you know ‘em?”

“Pretty much,” he nodded. “But he only told me this once, so I can’t tell if he actually meant it. Ever since I’ve tried to keep a close eye on Thunder so that he wouldn’t do anything bad. But I guess I’m afraid of what would happen if my back is turned. What if he does something and I’m not there? Mr. H, what do I do?”

“First of all,” Harmonic said after scooping up some of the pasta into his mouth. “I’m kinda glad that you’ve come to me about this. Who is your teacher in that class?”

“Ms. Spitfire,” Braeburn answered.

“I’ll have a word with her after school about keeping an eye on this student. Since you know this Thunderlane, do you really think that he would hurt Mr. Apple if he got the chance?”

He sighed, “Yeah.”

“But has he done anything like this before?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Trust me,” he looked over to the apple farmer, “I know how it feels when you don’t feel safe because of who you are. I’ve been there.”

“You were bullied, Mr. H?”

There was a pause from their teacher, “You might call it that. I don’t know if you know this, but my family was originally from Italy, and we immigrated here when I was seven. When I first realized that I was gay and had a crush on another boy, my parents… kicked me out. For a while, I was homeless, owning nothing except for a violin case. Not only was I concerned about my survival, but worried sick over if anyone could see-through my secret. Of course, I had my share of beatings before I found my way here at this High School.”

Here, Harmonic gave a ghost of a smile, “Celestia really helped me not only get a basic education but really helped me up, and even encouraged my talent on the violin as well. So, once I got my first real job as a teacher here, I made a promise to myself that I will make sure that what I went through won’t happen to anyone else again. And with you two, I’m going to keep that promise so that you’ll be safe at this school.”

“Thanks, Mr. H,” Soarin Cloudline said before the door of the Teacher’s Lounge was opened.

“They’re with me,” Harmonic said, pointing at Lyra and Bon Bon with their trays. The two of them walked over to their table. After trading the Surrealist art teacher of their “lunch”, and received some pumpkin pie, real mash potatoes, and sweet potatoes later, the Orchestra teacher asked them what was it that they wanted to talk to him about.

“Well, to be honest,” Lyra Heartstrings started, “It’s more about curiosity than anything else.”

“Not to mention that we have a personal question to ask ya,” Sweetie added.

The Violinist shrugged, “Go ahead, I wouldn’t mind.”

“What was he like?” the green student asked.

“Who?”

“Color,” Harmonic looked up from his lunch. “Look, I don’t want to offend you over it. But we never knew the guy, or less heard of him until a couple months ago. It’s obvious that the guy meant a lot to ya, but could you at least talk about who he was?”

Their teacher sat up, but looked back down at his pasta, not saying a word.

Bon Bon sighed, “I knew this was a bad idea.”

“No,” Harmonic waved, “I’m not upset Ms. Drops. But, do you really want me to?”

“Ya know,” Braeburn spoke up, “Ah’ve heard that ya had a husband yerself, but Ah’m curious too since Ah’ve never even seen a picture of ‘em in your house.”

“I know,” he nodded, “I guess you could say that I’ve missed him too much that… I could barely look at those photos and not think about when he was alive.”

“So you’ve missed him that much?”

“More than you could know. But… with someone like him, how could I not? Color… in a way, saved me from a poisonous idea that I had to accept the fact that nobody would be insane enough to love… well, me – that I had to be contempt that I was going to live and die alone. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Yet, when we’ve met, well, more like introduced from a friend where we went on a blind date,” Harmonic laughed while giving a sad smile, “I remembered him being so nervous. He was a painter you see, and on that first date, he had painted my self-portrait while I played my violin. Once we slowly opened up, we found out that we had a few things in common; the only difference is that he had hope that he would find that special someone, while I had completely given up.

“Yet, from that humble start, I found out how wise he really was, and given the sort of sympathetic wisdom that, I couldn’t help but repay him for being so kind to me. For four years when we started college, he was the very person where I could tell all my problems to and not only would he listen, but he would do everything he could to convince me that not only was I normal, but I was indeed loved.”

“That must be some guy huh?” Soarin Cloudline asked.

“You would have liked him, all of you would. He was so selfless that…” their teacher trailed off before shaking his head, “I’m sorry, I don’t talk about that.”

“Hey, Trotivari,” the five of them looked up to where Mr. Disc was getting up, wrapping his lunch up with the tablecloth. “Do you mind if I tell ya something? I don’t know how much this’ll help, so I’m just going to say this once and then give it up.”

“And what’s that?”

“At least be grateful,” Harmonic asked what he meant by that while he walked down the walls to the floor. “I mean that at least you had someone that really cared for you. That’s very rare you know. You may have lost your love, but at least you had one. Why look at me. I’m way older then you and I’ve never been married. If it was good and you know it, appreciate that you’ve experienced it. Now, if none of you mind, I have to go before the bell rings, and Ms. Heartstrings,” he pointed at the green student, “Remember to finish your project by Friday.”

_*_

Spitfire blew her whistle, “That’s all for today guys. Go get changed and have a good day.”

Dodgeballs made their way back into the baskets as students separated to their respective locker rooms. Though out of breath from all the running and dodging the rubber balls from hitting them in the face, the students were relieved that their session with the ex-drill Sargent was over.

Thunderlane slipped through the door of the room with Soarin and Braeburn behind him, “How come that yer good at dodgin’ but when it comes ta throwin’ yer like a five-year-old.”

“For the same reason why I didn’t go into baseball, when it comes to my hands, I have really bad aim. But it would have been different if I could just kick them.”

“Sure it would,” the cowboy said, dripping with sarcasm. “But still, that was fun.”

At this point, Thunderlane was at his locker, tumbling around with the combination.

“Kinda wish Spitz would have us do a bit of soccer,” Soarin commented. “Perhaps I could show ya around a few moves.”

“Nah, if Y'all did, Ah would just get distracted by ya,” this gave Thunderlane a moment to pause.

The blue Wondercolt laughed, “Over what, my moves or the muscles?”

“You know what Ah mean. But the point bein’ that Ah think soccer isn’t mah kind of sport.”

“Then what is? You live on a farm, what kinds of sports do you like?”

“Well, Ah’m more of a hands-on type,” at this Thunderlane looked over his shoulder at the two. While both of them have their backs turned to him while sitting down on the bench, Soarin already has his shirt off while the Apple farmer, to the charcoal athlete, was sitting a bit too close to his fellow teammate.

“Like what? Weaseling?” Soarin asked, sorting his gym clothes in the tiny locker.

“Yeah,” Braeburn placed a hand on his back. “If yer not doin’ anythin’ after school, maybe Ah could show a few moves myself.”

‘Oh no he didn't!’ Thunderlane got up from the bench and marched over towards the farmer. Grabbed his neck and shoved him to the lockers. “I knew it!” he yelled.

“Dude! What are ya doing?” Soarin snapped at him.

“Just as I thought,” Thunderlane said, every word dripping with venom. “Your cowboy friend of yours really is a fag! He was trying to hit on ya.”

“W-What!” was what Braeburn could muster from the shock of it all.

“Thunder, let him go,” Soarin stood up.

“I made a promise to ya,” he raised his free hand, forming into a fist, “and I’m gonna keep it.”

Without thinking, the blue athlete grabbed his teammate’s fist, twisting it around his back and said, “Hands off my boyfriend!”

Letting go of Braeburn's neck, Thunderlane took a swing at Soarin, punching him on the side of his head. Now free, the cowboy leaped up, throwing a punch of his own. Within a matter of seconds, the three of them were swinging fists and even throwing whatever was in reach. The other students quickly noticed this, and one of them went off to get the teacher.

“I’m gonna kick your asses!”

“Not if Ah kick it first!”

Insults and war cries were exchanged before a sharp, piercing whistle slapped through the air.

“Enough!” Spitfire barked, “You three, on your feet, now!” They obeyed, “What is going on, why were you three fighting!”

“He started it,” the yellow and bruised student pointed over to the charcoal one.

“Ma’am,” Thunderlane said, “There’s a couple of queers in here ma’am!”

Spitfire took off her sunglasses and looked at the charcoal students with a gaze that could easily shatter steel. “I’m sorry,” she said it with a low voice that was close to growling; “I don’t believe I heard you right. What do you mean by that?”

“These two,” he tilted his head towards Soarin and Braeburn.

She raised an eyebrow, looked over at them before returning to him again, “Thunderlane, who makes the rules here?”

“Ma’am, you and the school do ma’am.”

“Do you know the rules?”

“Ma’am, yes ma’am.”

“Then tell me, is such behavior that you’ve just demonstrated aloud?”

Thunderlane tensed up, “M-Ma’am?”

“Just answer the question! Is such language and abusive behavior towards these two okay to both the school’s and my rules?”

“Ma’am no, ma’am.”

“It’s not? Then why did you just called them queers just now?”

When Thunderlane didn’t answer, she blew her whistle once more, “Boys! Front and center!” Every male student in the locker room, crowded around them or not, followed suit to her command and stood at attention before her.

“Students,” she said, “Thunderlane has disgraced himself, and this class. I have tried to teach those like him that such discrimination is not welcome because it goes against the spirit of teamwork in which I’m trying to convey. But the looks of it, I have failed. Normally, such behavior would easily get a one-way ticket to detention. However, because of the vial hatred that he has demonstrated, detention will not be enough.

“From now on, I’m installing a new rule among you guys. I’m doing this because it’s the only way that my punishment can be conveyed through his skull. And that rule is this: whenever Thunderlane screws up, I will not punish him.”

‘What!’ both Soarin and Braeburn thought while Thunderlane grinned.

“Instead,” Spitfire continued, “I will punish all of you! And the way I see it ladies, every single one of you is not leaving until you give me one-hundred push-ups.” There was a collective groan when she added, “And even when the bell rings, you are not excused until you complete your task. I suggest you start now!” As students all around got on the floor to start their push-ups, Spitfire said, “Thunderlane, you get to leave class early. Soarin, Braeburn, my office.”

The three of them obeyed. The charcoal student with the white Mohawk took his backpack from his locker and walked through a room full of death scowls from passing, groaning students. While the other two followed her through the door, across the gym to her office door, once inside, she sat down at her desk while her two students stayed standing.

“Ma’am,” Cloudline spoke first, “Are we in trouble ma’am?”

“That depends,” she leaned back in her seat. “So tell me, what exactly happened back there? And you can skip all the ‘ma’am’s’ while you’re at it.”

“We were talkin’,” the farmer began. “Then out of the blue, he grabs the back of mah neck and shoves me into the lockers. Sayin’ that Ah was... well, flirtin' with Soar while callin'...”

“What?”

Braeburn shook his head, “Ah don’t wanna repeat it, ma’am.”

“He was going to hurt him,” Soarin stepped in, “I grabbed his fist before he could hit him, well, before he let him go and punched me. And you can guess the rest.”

Their Gym teacher sighed, “I was told earlier to watch out for something like this by Mr. Trotivari. He told me, that there might be a potential bully in my class to watch out for, Thunderlane in particular. But I don’t recall what the motive was. Now I think I see. Braeburn Apple, was what Thunderlane said about you two a misunderstanding, or was he telling the truth?”

“U-Uh…” the cowboy tensed up at the question, looking to Soarin for a way around answering the question.

“Look, it’s okay,” Spitfire said, “from my time in the military, there were several people who’re gay and they have proven themselves to be outstanding in the call of duty. So really, you’re safe here with me sharing this if you want.”

Braeburn took a moment before answering, “Ah’ve heard that he’d suspected it,” he sighed and bowed his head, “And… he’s right. Truth is, I and Soar have been goin’ out since July.”

“Hmm,” she looked over to Soarin, “Can you confirm this?”

“It’s true.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “I see that I still have failed in taking care of this bullying issue beforehand. However, I’m committed that such a thing like this won’t ever happen again. Both of you have been doing pretty good in my class, and you two seeing each other outside of it won’t change that fact. I will also see to it that Principal Celestia would be made aware of what just happened. Now, I can’t guarantee what she’ll say or do, but knowing her, she would be a little more understanding.”

“I just have one question here,” Soarin inquired, “Why are you punishing the other students that weren’t involved and let Thunder go Scott free?”

She smirked, “Simply because that I know how to deal with prejudice people like him. Because sending him to detention won’t change his mind. I have to put in into a situation where his hatred not only affects him but everyone around him. Just leave it to me; I know what I’m doing. You two are free to go.”

They turned to leave when their teacher added, “Oh, and Apple?”

“Yes’m?”

She pointed to his friend, “Be good to Soarin, he’s a good kid.”

He smiled, “Ah will ma’am.”

After leaving her office and retrieving their things, on the way out, the farmer asked, “Hey Soar?”

“Yeah?”

“Ah wanna say thanks fer standin’ up for me. But there’s somethin’ that Ah really wanna know.”

“Shoot.”

“Did ya really call me, yer boyfriend?”

Soarin stopped walking, “Oh…” his cheeks flushed at realizing what he had said in the locker room. “Uh… about that… I wasn’t really thinking. Y-You were about ta get punched and I did what first came to mind.”

“But Soar,” Braeburn put a hand on his shoulder, “Ah want ya ta be honest with me here. Do you really think of me as somethin’ more than a friend? Like how Ah am with you?”

His best friend couldn’t look at him, with a hand rubbing the back of his head and aware that his face was taking on a shade of red, he looked around the hallways before quietly sighing, “Would it be weird, if I said yes?”

Without warning, the athlete was suddenly given a strong bear hug by his best friend, “No sir,” Braeburn beamed, “If anythin’, you’d just made incredibly happy! Soar, Ah don’t know what else ta say ‘cept, thank you!”

“Air,” Soarin choked, “Need...”

“Oh!” Braeburn let go, “Sorry, don’t know mah own strength half the time.”

“No, you’re good,” Soarin said taking in a few precious breaths before grinning. “Not if I do this first.”

“Huh?” suddenly, it was his turn for his lungs to be crushed in his arms.

Once he let go, his first boyfriend said, “Now, we’re even.”

Comments

[InactiveAccount222346]

Once he let go, his first boyfriend said, "Now, we're even."

boyfriend!

Squee!