Love is in Bloom

by StayedGolden

Wednesday

Your morning arrives on the sound of faint voices. Two female voices, by the sound of it. That’s really about as far as you can identify them for the moment. You’re a tad busy luxuriating in the warm apple-covers to fully focus. The voices grow in loudness, still garbled, but becoming recognizable. The lack of pauses and creaking tell you that the Apple sisters are speaking in the hallway outside your room. It actually sounds a bit tense, now that you really listen. A low grumble burrows its way through your chest; you’d rather be sleeping. The only method of escape is the pillow, and you cover your head in it, just like in the movies. Unfortunately, it’s pretty darn uncomfortable, and barely blocking out any sound, so you trash the plan. Covering your head in the blankets, you hope curling up in the cozy cocoon will distract you. It actually succeeds for a moment, before the door slams open.

“Fine!”

“Where are you goin’? That ain’t your room!” Your door slams in response, and a particularly audible sighs apparates just behind it. Guess Apple Bloom forget where she lived, you think to yourself with a chuckle. Your mirthful comfort is then wrenched away by the collapsing of a young girl on your bead. Her arms splay outward, the right falling over your stomach. She sighs deeply, then does this cute little cry that kinda sounds like “gah!” Your bed invaded, you pull the covers down and scoot back to sit up against the bedpost. You’re careful to keep her arm off of your critical zone while you do so.

“What’s going on, Bloom?” you mutter, honestly having tried not to sound testy, but the interruption to your sleep putting too large a damper on you. She throws her head back onto the bed, looking at you through the tops of eyes:

“’Parently AJ don’t want me goin on no more adventures with you after what happened yesterday.” Another anguished harrumph, and she crosses her arms. “And after Scootaloo got all those fireworks…”

“Wait, what?” Her eyes drift lazily back to you:

“Oh, nothing. Ain’t like it’s gonna happen anymore.” You silently thank AJ for saving you from what was certain to be your doom, and bring your hand over to her forehead. Softly brushing her hair to the side, you tell her

“It’ll be alright, Bloom. I’m sure we’ll find something else to do.”

“I think ah’d like that,” she moans sleepily, pushing her face into your caressing hand. You move down a bit, and turn away from her, the heavy desire for sleep barely overcoming your desire to stroke your cousin’s cheek. A pouty hmph begs you to reconsider, but now you’re all curled up on your side; ‘sorry, love, but my course is set’, you think to yourself. But then you find her arms covering you as she sidles up to your back. Drawing close, she rests her head on your back, and sighs contentedly. You think about moving, or pushing her off or something, but you’re still on the train to sleeptown. And when you’re as tired as you are, there just aren’t any stops. You drift off to sleep again, comfortable in the embrace of your Apple Bloom. Three loud knocks jerk you awake, at some later time.

“Hey, Anon!” Sounds like AJ. You answer her groggily,

“sup?”

“Yuh got Bloom in there?” You turn towards the angel snoring softly on your bed.

“Sure looks like it.” The littlest Apple’s eyes blink awake, and she yawns loudly. Her eyes clench tightly, and her hands ball into fists as she raises them above her head, in something similar to victory pose. You notice those teeny tiny little shorts she’s got on, crawling way up her thighs. And… hold on a minute, where did she get your WSU T-shirt? Before you can continue your inquest, half-lidded eyes grab your attention, and the following smile leaves you breathless. It’s sweet and small, like her, but most importantly, it’s for you. You walk up to your bed and sit beside her, her eyes following you all the way.

“Tell her to get up soon! We’re going to the pool in a bit!” Those precious eyes look towards the door, then back up at you. You fall into those great amber pools, and tell her in a quiet voice, almost a whisper:

“You gotta get up soon, sweetheart. We’re going to the pool in a bit.” Her white teeth shine as she pulls back soft lips in a smile, your subtle mockery of her sister not going unnoticed. ”Alright, we’ll be out in a moment!” You sidle up closer to her, stroking her hair once more, while her gaze continues to hold onto you. You audibly sigh in happiness, a smile finishing it off, her expression meeting yours. Remembering your last cuddle-session, you recall the last girl to hold you closely. You have an idea, remembering a little bit of fun you had during that day. You lean in close, very close to her face, just enough to make her smile fade into an expression of bated expectation. Moving still closer, you veer off to the side of her face, lips almost touching her earlobe.

“Hey, Apple Bloom?” your breathy voice comes.

“W-what?”

“Gimme my shirt back.” A pause separates your gleeful teasing and being pushed off the bed. You laugh as you hit the ground, successfully getting her. She sticks out her tongue at you, then thoughtfully looks up. You see Scoots’ wicked grin again, this time covering your angel’s face. Oh boy.

“Want your shirt back, huh?” Your confidence shows its absence in your hesitant affirmation.

“Fine then. Here y’go” And with one quick motion, she strips off the shirt and tosses it at you. Ok, that’s a pretty tiny bra. She laughs at your horrified expression and rose-red cheeks. You toss your shirt back to her, pleading that she put it back on as she bounces up and down your bed, laughing. You turn toward her, asking again in a more seriously tone.

“Please.” She sees that her joke has gone a little too far, and pulls your shirt down over herself again.

“Sorry,” she says quietly.

“It’s alright,” you assure her, tousling her hair, trying to be lighthearted about the whole thing. She smiles gratefully, and heads out of your room. With a deep sigh, you sit down on your bed. Ok, maybe don’t tease your probably crushing cousin. You like Apple Bloom; a whole lot. But that’s not a road you’re planning on going down. You shake your head to the side, trying to get the whole of you in agreement. I don’t know, there was just something about her. This kind of spark, or light that filled you up. But the strange thing was, it wasn’t implicitly sexual. There was definitely some attraction you were feeling, but it wasn’t the rule. You stumbled for the words to express just what was going on. They just weren’t there. The only certainty you had was that you loved Bloom, and that your love was more than desire. You hop off your bed and root through your drawers, ready for a change of subject. All this introspection and stuff was nice, but only for a little while. You were still a guy; that stuff gets old, and when it does, it does. You find your swimshorts and head out the door, holding them over your shoulder. You hop down the stairs, and find yourself at the land of pancakes and waffles. You could get used to this. The three elder Apples are there, and you take a seat next to AJ. She looks at you, her face radiant as usual.

“Ah hope Apple Bloom didn’t give you too much trouble.”

“Eh, not really.

“She just kinda fell asleep on my bed, and I was never really awake until you knocked.” She purses her lips, her focus leaving you for half a moment:

“Wonder why she didn’t just come out?” Your expression follows suit, and you nod your head at the conundrum. Coming up with two explanations, you tell her:

“I think I know why.” More than two eager eyes are on you now, having stayed since the mention of sleeping on your bed. “She probably stayed because she didn’t want to admit defeat.” The family all nods their heads, obviously familiar with Bloom’s headstrong demeanor.

“But there is another reason, that definitely oughtn’t be overlooked: She very well may have stayed, because she found herself in the room of THE COOLEST COUSIN IN THE WORLD!” At the final clause, you stand up, stick your chest out and point your thumb at yourself. Big Mac appears untouched by your flourish, but you’ve got the ladies in the room giggling. And in the end, the ladies are really the ones you perform for anyway. You sit down to Applejack saying:

“Well, that’s definitely a possibility.” Apple Bloom comes down the stairs soon after, and sits to your side. The four of you gobble up what remains of that glorious breakfast, and discuss the day’s plans. There’s a community swimming pool over in Applejack’s friend’s neighborhood -apparently her name is Twilight?- and the three young’un’s –Granny’s words, not yours- are gonna meet her down there in about an hour. Sounds good to you.

“That sound good to you?”

“Yeah, sounds good to me.” But it didn’t sound good to Apple Bloom.

“Can’t ah invite my friends?” Given an affirmation, she brought up her phone and made the requests. And so you, Big Mac, and Bloomers all lounge about on the couch, waiting for the time to come around and friends to respond. AJ was in what young Bloomers referred to as her crazy-planning-mode, for which Big Mac gave his trademark

“Eeyup.” What she was actually planning was unclear, though that may have been your lack of investigation of such as much as it may have been needless planning. A buzzing phone informed the owner of the squeakiest voice around that only Scootaloo could come, which was translated to you through said medium. And with that fifteen extra minutes of picking her up, the timeslots were filled. You raced your cousin to the family van, sighed as the two elder siblings took FOREVEEEEER –Bloom’s emphasis, not yours- and you were off.

You stare blankly out the back window, at the dirt road slowly leaving you. The signs fly past, occasionally accompanied by a lone farmhouse. Then, after one particularly long stretch of muted brown, houses erupt from the sides of the window like beavers from their houses. Thick clusters of houses fill the windows, the conditions of each deteriorating further from those they replace. Chipped paint, then faded, then bleached and cracked; clear lawns, uncut lawns, then lawns filled with debris. To your horror, it is at what appears to be the crux of this broken portion of the city that the fading streets are halted. You’re a sitting duck, in the heart of dilapidation. Thankfully, a shouting girl signals the arrival of the package, and you’re soon sitting next to an orange-skinned imp, once more watching the wasteland leave. You turn from it, not wanting to think about those conditions, and face the beaming girl next to you. Wait… was she staring at you this whole time? Her eyes are fixed firmly on you, blinking thrown to the wind.

“Uh… hey Scoots.” Barely missing a beat, she looks up at you, giving you a smirk you’d find on a 90’s skateboarder.

“Sup?”

“Oh, y’know. Getting ready for a pool adventure. Hoping not to get injured on this one.” Bloom looks back from the front seat, frowning at the reference. Scoots actually takes on a somber expression, and meekly apologizes. Definitely not the kind of thing you’d expect from her. But the dissonance corrects itself momentarily, and she’s back to her chipper, punky self. Is punky even a word? She’s wearing a big, baggy hoody, and you can’t actually see any pants down there, so you’re gonna assume she’s in her suit underneath. On her head is a bandanna, and now… oh boy. She pulls out an eyepatch and grips it tightly.

“Bloom,” she says in a low, resonant voice. Bloom turns back and meets Scoots’ serious look. She shakes her head slowly, and returns her view to the front. Scoots nods her head with the grim acceptance of a soldier, and tucks the eyepatch back into her pocket. Looks like whatever piratey business they were up to was pushed back.

“What?” comes the tomboyish voice, with the petulant rebelliousness of a grade-schooler in trouble, when she finds you staring at her.

“Nothing,” you respond, not realizing you’d been staring at her. She turns to the side, looking out the window. The van takes a hard right, and she falls into you while you fall into the window. Yeah, she definitely got the better deal there. You rub your hurt head, and as the pain fades, you notice a pressure against your side that wasn’t there before. Scootaloo’s right up against you, apparently having forgot to recover after the slide. You scoot a bit to the right, and she continues to sink into you, before jolting up, then back to her original position. No, a little further from you than before.

The van jerks to a stop, bringing your thoughts of Scootaloo to the same conclusion. You hop out of the van, and stretch your limbs, before grabbing your bag of clothes and heading off. Well, trying to head off. All but one small piece of your shirt starts forward, the stationary portion yanking you back. Turning around, you find that Scoots grabbed the back of your shirt.

“Wait up a second.”

“Uh, ok.” Big Mac lumbers over to the lawn chair-folding-lounging thing and lounges, the sun fully on him. AJ passes out bags, and leads the way to the gates, propped open by a waving Twilight.

“We’ll be there in a sec!” Bloom shouts to AJ, who nods her head and disappears into a conversion with Twilight. You turn to her in confusion. She looks you deep in the eye, and pulls a tiny little pirate hat out of her bag. There’s even a little stretchy black thing to put under your chin, to keep it on your head.

“Alright Anon, we’re down a member. So we need you to complete the Cutie Mark Pirates.” Scoots nods, more serious than you’d ever seen here. HELL FUCKING YES, you think.

“Um… Are you sure?” you say.

“Hell, uh, I mean, heck yeah!” Scoots shouts, altering her words when she sees Bloom’s look. “You’re tall, your clothes are already pretty ragged-

“Hey!”

“And you’re super rad! So you gotta do this!”

“Agreed!” your cousin agrees, both girls now looking up at you expectantly. You try really hard not to look super hyped to be a pirate. You succeed, managing to look somewhat suspicious and hesitant, murmuring a soft
“fine.” A grin breaks out as you pull it over your head, and accept the spare eyepatch brought by Scoots.

“Yeah, you know you love it,” comes the suddenly sultry voice of Scoots.

“So what if I do? Pirates as super friggin’ rad.” Apple Bloom brandishes a small plastic sword, pointing it towards the pool.

“And so are we! The CUTIE!” Scoots follows, the call clearly meant to have three-parts:

“MARK!” Not missing a beat, you take a step forward, and bellow with every inch of breath:

“PIIIIIIRRRRAAAAAAAAAATES!” Yeah, you’re a cool dude. You follow Bloomers as she leads the charge… in no particular direction. She runs towards her sister, who recoils in horror at the furious charge, Twilight laughing the whole time. Then you change directions, and chase a seagull. Then it’s to her sister again, a mighty AVAST MATEY on her lips, followed by a YE BE WALKING THE PLANK from Scoots. AJ laughs as she’s cornered by the three of you, the two true members having a fake-wooden swords, and you having to make do with crossing your arms to look badass.

“Scoots!” comes Bloomer’s stage whisper.

“What?” comes the response, of the same volume.

“We forgot to get Anon his sword!”

“Well, whatta we do now?” AJ lends you a perplexed expression, which you immediately return.

“Well, we better go get it!” Then, back to her loud cry, “TO THE ARMORY!” and the three of you take off towards the van. In a moment, you’re better armed, and AJ’s back with Twilight, albeit continually glancing at the trio. “Back to AJ,” says Apple Bloom, but you interrupt the suspiciously normal pace by leaping up on the chain link fence and shouting:

“AVAST, YE LANLUBBAR!” You hoist your arm over the fence and point the tip of your cutlass at AJ, who looks absolutely shocked”HEAVE TO, AND PREPARE TO BE BOARDED!” You ignore her and her purple friend’s now blushing faces, forgetting the double meaning, and leap back down.

You rejoin your crew, and pursue the eldest Apple once more. Round the pool you go, with Scoots dropping off, hoping to flank her. You do the same, but AJ’s eyes stay on you. She turns to and fro from you and Bloom, giggling at the pursuit, and then stops The white-faced realization tells you what she’s thinking: where’s the third? The girl in question erupts from behind a beached whale’s chair, grabbing her. You and Bloom set upon her at once, but you only place a hand on her back. The full bodied hugs coming from the two other girls might be a bit weird, coming from you. You gently push her towards the diving board, the two hugging girls sidling along with her; her movements are pretty heavily restricted, but at least she ain’t escaping. Isn’t. Geez, the little Apple’s already rubbing off on you. You notice the beaming face of Twilight’s friend, overjoyed to see her friend being marched to her doom. You right-face, now looking directly at her, and point your sword at her

“YARRRR!” . Man, your throat’s starting to hurt from this. . Twilight yelps with terror, then covers herself in Applejack’s towel, completely hidden. . You turn back to Applejack, who’s now at the diving board. . Little eeps and ows at the poking plastic swords send her onto it, after which she executes a perfect cannonball. “Awesome!” Bloom says, forgetting her piratsona and leaps up onto the board. She takes off, bouncing mightily before being flung into the air and mimicking the glorious splash of her elder sister. You try to warn her, but it’s too late. Your little cousin, wrapped in a T-shirt and overalls, surfaces from the deeps, gulping in a great snatch of air. Realizing her sartorial predicament, she cries out:

“Consarnit!”

All four members of your party laugh out loud, the wet hair covering the girl’s face making her pout all the more hilarious. You turn back to Scoots, and she smiles, nodding her head. You both grab your clothing bags and head towards the lockers. You step into yours, and notice Scoots not quit leaving the entryway, almost peeking around the corner at you. Her eyes notice yours, and she scrambles away like a frightened rabbit. Geez. You sigh with forced exasperation. Truthfully, you didn’t mind the interest, but something was telling you that you shouldn’t enjoy it. You peel off your clothes in an empty stall, and slip into your rad trunks. Stepping out before the mirror, you grimace at your unimpressive body. You weren’t fat or weirdly tall or anything; you weren’t repellant. But you didn’t really have muscles –well, you did under good lighting and while flexing-, nor were you particularly tan. It really could have been anyone standing in that mirror before you. If anything, it helped you disappear in the crowds, and being unidentified was particularly helpful whenever you made trouble. Sighing, you stepped out of the bathrooms and into the sun. Bloom was nowhere to be seen, and AJ and Twilight were sitting on some towels talking to each other. Might as well go introduce yourself. Probably made a real good impression with that pirate thing. You walk over there and sit down by the both of them.

“Hey.” The purple haired girl looked up at you with a delighted, up-turned crescent.

“Hello Mr. Anon. I’m Twilight.” She holds out her hand, looking as if she were thrilled to meet you. You reach out and mirror the greeting, her hand shaking yours like a can of spray paint. “I’m thrilled to meet you. Applejack’s been telling me stories about you.”

“Good ones, I hope?” A whimsical chuckle brings the tender voice of your second favorite cousin to the conversation:

“’Course they are. You haven’t given me any bad ones.” You make a solemn face, placing your left hand on your heart and right hand in the air, as if swearing a pledge.

“I shall endeavor not to,” you say in the most posh of voices. AJ chuckles, and looks over to her friend:

“I think we should have invited Rarity over. She’d love him.” Twilight shares her laughter and sentiment. The name rings within your head, sounding somewhat familiar. You’d heard it here… Oh, right!

“That’s Sweetie’s older sister, right? She mentioned her yesterday.”

“That’s right. But I think she’s busy with Sweetie today, though I can’t for the life of me remember what.” The previous wish returns to you, and you decide to pursue it, only partially as a means to catch a compliment.

“So, why would she love me? I haven’t really done anything.” AJ turns to you

“Sugarcube, you could do anything, and so long as you use that posh accent, she’d love ya.” Twilight pushes her in defence of the absent friend. “Alright, Alright, that was a tad mean. But you’re from the city, and that’s what she’s in love with, ‘long with everything in it. Ergo, she’ll love you.” Twilight chimes in:

“And from these stories AJ is telling me, you sound like you know the city.” You remember the stories you told AJ last night about your life in the city. You do have some pretty good stories, you think to yourself, before Twilight’s voice returns: “And she’s definitely one for a bad boy.”

“Wh-what?” Who told her you were a bad boy? Who told anybody that?

Applejack joins in Twilight’s mischievous grin: “Not gonna lie, Anon, you’re really rockin’ that pirate hat and eyepatch.” Ah. “Speakin’ a which, can you stand up a sec?”

“Uh, sure?” You stand up, wondering what she wants, while she rears back and shoves you into the pool behind you. You suck in a puff of air right before you go under, feeling the coolness of the pool. However, the pleasant embrace is somewhat marred by the panic of its surprise. You yell and flail your arms, finding yourself far more horizontal than you had expected to be at this point. Swimming back to the top and wiping the hair from your eyes, you ask her

“What the heck was that for!?”

“For stabbin’ me with that plastic sword, ya jerk!”

“I was a pirate! That’s what pirates do!”

“An’ I’m a girl that pushes pirates in the pool! Go on and guess what I do!” You pout and climb out, sitting down on the towel near AJ. “Aw, come on, yer getting my towel soaked.” You stick your tongue out, and fall onto her lap. The wet slap of your skin on her previously dry lap is louder than you predicted, and the girl yelps, trying to push you off. Behind you, you can hear the sounds of two young girls just yukking it up. You get up off the flailing girl to see the convulsing forms of two girls.

Your interest expands as you take in the sight. Two girls, one light-skinned and one noticeably darker, stand up to their waists in community water. Bloom’s got herself in a bright red two piece, the vibrant color flickering in the rippling waves. The bottom is submerged, surfaces, then is submerged again, the waves in the pool pushing up and down her fair skin. She’s got a chest, not a big one, but noticeable enough, that fits perfectly on her small proportions. You suppose you knew that already, but this time you weren’t tearing yourself away from the sight. The darker girl, her skin close to orange, is beside Bloom, wet purple hair framing her glowing face. Her swimsuit matches the size of Bloom’s, showing off an amount of skin you definitely aren’t complaining about. Her chest is a little smaller than Bloom’s, but again, it fits her small body, and lends you a fair share of tantalization. The purple material almost looks ruffled, holding an odd-looking texture, as compared to the simplicity of Bloom’s. After cocking you head in fascination at Scoot’s chest, you pull your focus away, with some difficulty. Boobs? I wasn’t looking at nobody’s boobs! That’s slander, Mr. Jameson! Freed from her hypnotic chest, you’re ensnared with her tummy, and the slim arms that frame it. And once more, you rip your view away from her. You turn towards the older girls sitting beside you, and notice their respective suits.

Now geared towards girls, your sight settles immediately on that of your cousin and her friend, pulling in like a ship in the grasp of the leviathan. A orange one-piece, long and sleek like a creamsicle, wraps AJ’s body. The type of suit isn’t your favorite, but the body encompassed is too curvy to be brought low in your eyes: the faint muscles in her arms and stomach, present enough to look fit without grotesque, awaken you to a beauty you’d never noticed before: the /fit/ girl. She lounges back, the curves of her body accentuated in the soft motion, made all the more visible by the wetness you brought to her. Twilight’s pale skin bursts forth from her own purple two-piece, a far deeper hue than Scoots’. She’s got a bit of chub to her, but like the muscles of AJ, it isn’t enough to spoil. The slight curve of her stomach flows seamlessly into the curves of her larger breasts, which declare themselves the winner among your party. Her skin is almost vampiric in its glow, concerns of burning causing you worry and her to adopt a towel-shield against the belligerent sun. It might be a rough day, you think to yourself trying to keep your eyes off the beauties surrounding you, the two younger ones having joined the circle. It’s going to be a rough day, you think to yourself, as the loveliest of Apples sits down on your side and rests her head in your lap. She faces up, grinning widely at you, whose head perfectly shields her from the glaring sunlight. You sigh, as is your prerogative, and surrender to the enjoyment of the day. No use worrying on pool day.

You bend over, facing down at the cute girl in your lap, still blissfully staring up with half-lidded eyes. Your hands, free from any order, move to the top of her head and begin stroking her thick hair, auburn in your shadow. It parts between your fingers, flowing through like sand. You run into several tangles, at which point you stop and gently brush and pull until they come apart. She closes her eyes and takes your loving fingers sifting through the crimson sea. Leaving your hands to their autopilot, you turn up to the girls around you. AJ and Twi were discussing some weird friend of theirs, Discord or something, who AJ seems to disapprove of. Scootaloo, however, is staring solidly at you and Bloom, the intense look pretty unwelcome. But you feel accommodating, and you don’t want anybody being unhappy today, especially not your fellow CMC. Even if you’re only a tertiary member, you still have a duty, don’t you? You push Bloom a little to your right, down for her, which she takes as a signal to move there. She adjusts herself so her head no falls on your right thigh, leaving your lap half-empty. You look up to the now curious-faced Scoots and pat your left thigh. She looks at you, resistance showing in her face and eagerness everywhere but. You raise your eyebrows, your face reading “you coming or what?” and she blows a forced sigh to her left, before crawling towards you. She carefully lies down, mirroring Bloom. The wet hair on your inner thigh makes you jump, startling both girls. Seeing no problems, they lie back down, two heads now resting before you.

This time you intentionally put your hands to work, one on each girl in symmetrical movements. First, you place your hands on each outer cheek, tracing circles around it, widening it to include the ear, circling that, then making figure eights involving circles of the ear and the cheek. In a combination of brushing and caressing, you trace the edges of their ear, moving the hair away and thereby opening the ear to the light. You continue tracing the motion, your hands touching the outer parts of the ear during your soft, loving circles. Keeping the curving theme to your motions, you bring your palms to their foreheads, brushing them outwards, rotating your hands as you do it. At the part of their foreheads closest to you, the pinkie side of your hand is touching them, and you roll it as you bring it the the part furthest from you, going from your palm to the thumb-side, then back again. Your fingers move down, disappearing into their hair as you brush it, then returning at the end of the cycle. With the proximity of their heads to your chest, you aren’t given much room to work on the cheek closest to such, but you settle for the basic windshield wiper motion across them with your fingers. Your light touch presses down enough to be felt, but not harder than you need to feel the soft bump of a close-by cheek bone. Finishing there, you pull your hands apart, moving to their jawline, and trace it back to the outer ear. Instead of moving back to the original formula, you move even further out, down to their necks. You trace these from front to back, your hands touching their necks and the bottom of their jaws in a back-and-forth motion. Not wanting to spend too much time on their necks, your hands return to their original position and begin repeating themselves. Somewhere along the line, both heads, as if aware of the symmetry involved, swiveling slightly towards your chest, cutting off your caressing on that side of their face, but opening up more of the other side to stroke. Once you’ve gone through the whole twice, you set your hands on auto-pilot, combining muscle memory and a small amount of deviation to change direction or area, so as to keep the experience from becoming predictable or monotonous. You take their soft coos and quiet moans as a sign of success, and look up to the older girls.

They’re both staring at your dexterous hands, and the complicated performance before them. Twilight gapes, then meets your inquisitive eyes:

“How do you do that?” You’re somewhat aware of your ability, but not of its shock-value. You shrug, and say:

“Practice.” The girls turn to look at each other, then back at you, expecting you to go on. “Um… there was this girl I used to date. She lied on my lap a lot, I guess?" You scratch the back of your head, not really thrilled to bring up those memories. “Anyway, I started off brushing her hair, and that got old, so I brushed her forehead, and then I just kept going. She never complained, and kept laying in my lap, so it just kinda became a thing.” Twilight bites her lip, and sputters out:

“I see. You’ll- You’ll definitely have to demonstrate on me sometime. F-For science.” AJ is silent. Scoots and Bloom are staring up at you, when the latter’s cute little voice breaks the stillness:

“So what happened to her?” You heavy heart, already on the verge, sinks into your stomach.

“We, uh… We broke up.” You turn to the side, grimacing. Sensing that you didn’t want to talk about this, AJ changes the conversation, asking you to share some more stories about your home. You’re in the middle of trying to bring up some memories while staving away the ones involving her, when your attention is stolen. Both girls have brought one hand each to your cheeks, cupping it while softly staring at you. Concerned looks hold their pretty faces, the unhappy expressions setting inside you a burning urge to cheer them up. You recognize the silly recursiveness, but shrug it off: you don’t want to see these girls hurt, even if it’s out of empathy for you. Quickly, you dredge up the most outrageous stories from home, and begin to spin tales. Your thief friend, your stupid but hilarious posse, your less painful exes stretch are brought into the air. You paint a fascinating mural in the minds of the captured girls in front of you, the work of storytelling helping to push the girl from your mind. Looking at your audience, you notice that only Scootaloo fails to be captivated by your troubles; she’s still giving you that concerned look from before. Despite the other girls laughing at the antics of your pencil-lobbing anarchist friend, you feel a little like you’ve failed. You finish with a grand gesture:

“And the whole cake came down on the teacher!” to the cheers of every girl but Scoots, who merely chuckles.

“Ok, yeah, Rarity would definitely love you,” giggles Twilight. You smile at her, slightly cheered up, though the pitying expression of Scoots is still throwing you off a bit.

“Glad to hear it,” you respond with a mostly genuine smile. You pat the heads of the younger girls and shift your legs, indicating your desire to get up. They’re a bit sore from them sitting on you, and your body stutters while trying to get up. You stretch out, a groan coming from you.

“You okay there, sugarcube?” comes Applejack’s kind concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Legs are still a bit worn, and keeping them in one position for that long got them a bit sore.” You turn towards the pool, and jump in, wanting to rid yourself of the hot rays on your drying skin, as well as the mysterious of the purple-haired girl. The cool water brings you in, holding you in a chilling embrace. You bring out your arms and legs, feeling the undulating blue on each limb. You tilt your head back blissfully, embracing that particular freedom only water can bring. Pushing with your arms, you send yourself back to the side of the pool, and check the area in front of you. A clear path offers its invitation, and you accept, contracting your feet against the wall and pushing off. You rocket through the water, your arms thrusting out to carve the waves, keeping up your momentum. You turn your body to the right and left as you raise each hand to cut into the water and push it back. In no time at all, you’ve found the other end, reaching out and grabbing it with your left hand. The heat of the grainy stone breaks through the watery chill upon your hand. You spin yourself around and repeat the process, going for more speed this time. You make it and spin around, this time pressing your back against the smooth underwater tile. Pushing yourself up a bit, your raise your arms and lie them on the stone border, elbows on the tile and hands hanging down into the water. You try to remove a bit of the water in your ears with your pinkie, and fail to comprehend the shout of a familiar, squeaking voice. Two tiny bodies fly into the sky to your right, sinking quickly in the blue sky into the water below. Thunderous, foamy waves erupt from their points of entry, your arm not raised in time to protect your face from the incoming splash. You wipe your face off and see two heads floating towards you, both cloaked in hair. Suddenly they rise, arms straight forward in a zombie-like shamble. From beneath their wet helmets, you hear them moan:

“Anoooooon…” Oh no! You let loose a manly shriek, and dive beneath the water, making a speedy underwater exit. Rising up on the far side of the pool, you peel back the damp curtain of hair and turn back. They’ve continued their pursuit, now slowly doggy-pedaling towards you. They’ve opened little slices of their hair, which you assume they can see out of. You start walking away, fighting against the resistance of the water. You’re slightly slower than them, as you can tell by them gaining on you. They continue to moan, pressing their advantage; you respond with the appropriate screaming. Scoots, ducks under water, then launches upward towards you. You barely sidestep her dive, but now Bloom’s even closer! You start hopping away, hoping the ridiculous maneuver will bring you more speed. It does, and you gain a bit of distance on your two pursuers. But then:

“Anooooooooon…”

a spooky voice groans from behind you. Applejack stands before you, her grasping hands inches away from you.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaahh!” you shout, this time for real. Where did she even come from? You try to pull off the very rare and very difficult hyperleft acrobatic spinning deflective leap. You fail, and fall in the water. The farmer girl sets upon you, soon joined by four smaller hands clinging to you. “Nooooo…” you gasp, dramatically thrusting one hand into the air, “this can’t be the end… I’m… too hot…” A red-haired zombie giggles while clutching your torso. The purple-haired zombie climbs onto your shoulders and snarls in a particularly villainous voice:

”Oh, but this isn’t the end, Anon. This is merely the beginning! Of your UNDEATH! WA HA HA HA HA!” To finish her evil cackle, she chomps on your shoulder. You find yourself once more screaming, not expecting anyone’s teeth to come into contact with you today. Your partly surprised, partly pained scream concludes in bubbles as you sink beneath the water, the sudden submersion causing Scoots to release you. Recalling the non-participating party, you rise slowly out of the water, moaning with them. You stick your arms forward, and your new zombie pals joining you. Then, directing your arms Twilight-ward, the four of your lurch forward, this time moaning her name. The laughter on her fades evaporates the instant she finds herself a player, rather than a spectator. You clamber out of the pool, a cry for brains oozing from your slack lips. She freaks and runs, earning her a reprimand from the life-guard, in his one moment of waking. She nods her head and apologizes, her shame distracting her from the very real zombie threat. It’s only when your arms circle her that she remembers her predicament, and by then she’s wrapped up in a zombie cocoon.

“no no no no please don’t turn me into a zombie,” she giggles nervously, as three of your party turn her into a zombie. You decide to refrain from biting her, as you often keep yourself from biting people who were practically strangers, and also cute girls. They burst out laughing, and you join them, before directing them to the hot tub portion of the pool. It’s pretty big, and square, measuring about 8ft by 8ft. They sink into the hot water, groaning in appreciation of the hot clutch. Giving them a minute, you introduce them to your favorite childhood game: Mummy in the Graveyard. One person in the mummy, and they have to close their eyes and they have to catch somebody, who would then become a mummy. They start in the center, and can move everywhere. And everybody has to keep at least one arm and one leg in the hot tub; if they leave, they’re the mummy.

“Why’s their a mummy in a graveyard?” Bloom chirps.

“Yeah, that sounds dumb. It should be a crypt,” Scoots chirps.

“Shut up,” you say.

“It sounds pretty easy to catch someone though,” comments AJ.

“Well, if somebody’s splashing around, yeah. But if you’re quiet, and curl up, or if people group up, if can get pretty hard. But you’re right, games don’t last too long, although I like that. Makes it less of a pain if you’re the mummy, and there’s more rotation, so everyone can get a chance.”

They all agree that it sounds awesome and that you are awesome for suggesting it. Well, that’s what you choose to hear. It may have just been that first one. Anyway, you immediately nominate Twilight, as she was the most recent to be caught. Everyone agrees but her, who turns to her disloyal friends, stammering

“What? Wait!” But it’s too late; she’s standing in the middle, and the rest of you line the walls.

“Alright, close your eyes and count to ten.” She does so, and the four of you start swirling around her, not wanting to be caught in the position last seen. Bloom splashes her way over to a silently protesting AJ, thinking to stick with her. Twilight turns toward the noise, and you’re behind her. Excellent. >Suddenly, she spins around and leaps towards you. What??? Such advanced tactics! You manage to scoot backwards, making no more noise than she does with her leap. Her fingers come within inches of you, but no contact. Yessss. But you’re not out yet. Quickly, you start scooting to the side when-

”Awww, Anon got got!” your cute cousin squeals, clapping her hands in delight. Instinctively, you defend yourself.

No, she didn’t!” But after the first word, Twilight once more darts in the direction of your voice, her soft hand colliding with your shoulder. She opens her eyes with joy, asking

”Does that count?” No! Uh. Darn it.

“Yeah, yeah, it counts. But you’re not supposed to help the mummy!” you add, glaring at Bloom.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to!” She shouts, only meaning the second sentence. You set yourself up in the middle, close your eyes, and count to 10. Alright, game on. You stay in the middle, listening for the sounds of motion. A quiet splash to your left sounds you dashing, hands dexterously flailing. You touch nothing, but hear a low giggle to your left. You continue your hunt, feinting right then bolting left. Ha! You open your eyes to see your right hand threatening to cover AJ’s left breast. You pull it back post-haste, blushing along with her.

“Well, guess Ah’m up then.” She walks to the center, and begins counting. Quickly, you move to the spot where you started. After all, it was the perfect spot. To your right, a sneaky Scootaloo appears, and climbs onto you. Her legs and arms are wrapped tightly around your torso, her head on your shoulder, looking towards the center. She whispers to you:

“Ok, you’re the pro here. You gotta protect me.” Twilight hits zero, and starts moving forward, waving her hands around. You briefly consider pushing Scoots to the front of you and offering her as a sacrifice. Nah, that’d be kind of mean. JUST KIDDING HERE WE GO. You hoist her up, arms crossed over her stomach, and shout loudly:

“Mummy, I offer you this virgin sacrifice! Let your hunger be sated!” Scoots, meanwhile is caught between trying to punch your head and escape. She throws you off balance, falling off you. You’re wide open. Twilight lunges forward, grabbing you and bringing you both down into the water. You get up, the Apple sister pointing and laughing at you. Scoots sticks her tongue out at you and jeers:

“It’s your own fault, you jerk!” You chuckle self-deprecatingly, and agree with her. Standing in the middle, you close your eyes, and count to ten. The world is black before you, a white frenzy of static crossing through the darkness. You tune into your sense of hearing, trying to ignore the splashing of the handful of other pool-guests. Swishing to your right. You jump there, both hands flailing wildly. Nothing. You pull back, and stand where you are for a second. You aren’t searching this time. If you stay on one side of the pool for a bit, they should group up near the opposite end. You count to three in your mind, then twirl around like a murderous ballerina, and tear through the water to the other side. Before you get there, you make a swift leap to your 2’o’clock. After all, they would be trying to escape, and this is about where they’d be. You stretch your arms, trying to cover as much space as possible and… Bingo. A happy yelp tells you that you’d grabbed Bloom before your eyes do. She hops over to the middle and starts the initiation ritual. You turn towards the close-by Scootaloo and chant, just loud enough for her to hear,:

“Sac-ri-fice. Sac-ri-fice. Sac-ri-fice!” She shakes her fist at you somehow managing to glare while looking like she’s about to burst into laughter.

“10!” Immediately she starts roaming. Beginner tactics. That said, she is nearing you, and her outstretched arms are getting pretty close. You bend back, almost getting smacked by her searching swipes. Scootaloo dodges the arms by ducking under the water, making a small splash. Bloom immediately heads in that direction, while Scoots tries to swim away. But Bloom’s knee collides with her arm, as she joyously informs the lot of you, opening her eyes. Scoots curses under her breath, then sulks over to the middle. Halfway through her count, you see her grin, short spurts of giggling interspersing with the spoken numbers. You frown and furrow your brow, hoping these motions will help you discover the mystery. They do not, and you’re left out of the know. Scoots finishes the count, and immediately begins a new tactic. She rushes to a corner, and spreads her arms out, perpendicular to her torso. She bends over the water and begins making lines across the pool, covering the top of it. Not an inch is missed as she quickly flies across the water, nearing you and the four others, who are now on the opposite side. The only thing you can think of is to hide underwater or try to dart across the place she leaves, into the zone already covered. The risks of the second implore you to choose the first, and you accept them, crawling into a corner and preparing to go under. But at that moment, AJ pulls herself to the wall, looking like she’s about to throw herself to the other side. You don’t bother telling her of the dangers, definitely ok with her losing. Her legs extend, and she’s out behind Scoots, then in the safe zone, without a sound. Twilight brightens, and prepares herself to do the same. Waiting for the right moment, she throws herself forward, straight into Scoots legs. Guess her timing wasn’t as good as AJ’s. The two girls go down, and you and Bloom laugh heartily at the bungled maneuver.

The rest of the games follow in a similar fashion, dumb mistakes and skillful searches bringing quick rotations to the early rounds. As the number of games elevates, the games start to take longer, skill developing in the players. But after a while, you tire of it, and count yourself out. Hopping over the pool, you do some laps back and forth, just enjoying the feeling of your arms cutting through the waves. You touch a wall, flip over, and immediately spring yourself the opposite direction, repeating this process til you’re good and tired. At some point, the girls joined you, swimming alongside you. They bump into you here and there, especially Scoots, who apologizes and doesn’t quit. Tuckered out, you crawl out and onto the towel you brought. The sun’s heat feels incredible on your chilled body, quickly bringing you to a heavenly roast. You press your damp ear to the towel over the pavement, and tune into the thumping of the pool’s members. Heavy ones arrive, and the splattering sound of chlorine raindrops tells you of a nearby companion. You open your eyes slowly, as befits your languid state, and find Twilight lying down on the towel next to you. She stretches out, laying on her side and facing you. Your chest is facedown, but you’ve turned your head to look at her.

“Hello Anon.”

“Hey Twi” you mumble. She props her head up on her hand, her elbow stretched out to the side. She just stares at you for a while, a little smile on her face the whole time. You don’t really mind, on account of her being cute and you being half asleep due to the warm sun on your body. She breaks the silence hesitantly, blurting out:

“You know, I used to live in the city too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Canterlot, up in the Northeast.”

“I’ve heard of it…” you pause, an experience on the edge of memory. “Think I went to a ball there or something. Some fancy shindig.” Twilight lights up at this, clasping her hands together.

“The Grand Galloping Gala! It’s the most extraordinary event in the city!”

“Yeah, I think that was it. There were a lot of horse sculptures, now that I remember.” A thought pops into her mind.

“When did you go?”

“Oh, like, five years ago. I was in eight grade, so… yeah, five years ago. 2011.” She looks up, placing two fingers over her mouth as she thinks. A frown flows over her mouth and she drops her hand.

“That was one of the ones I missed. Shame, it would have been fun meeting you.”

“Eh. I had to wear a suit.” You meet her eyes, a serious expression on your face: “I don’t do suits well.” She disagrees:

“Oh, I think’d you’d look great in a suit! You’ve definitely got the form… if not the posture.”

“Hey, my posture rules!” She grimaces, turning her head to the side.

“Ehhhhh… Anyway, you should look me up next time you go. I always try to bring my friends, and it’s always loads of fun!”

“So AJ?”

“Yeah! And Rarity, and some other friends you and I’ve met. Oh, and the Cutie Mark Crusaders as well, as long as they promise to behave.” You chuckle, thinking of the trouble they would have gotten into their first time. You start wondering what Scootaloo looks like in a dress, but pull yourself out once her form blurs and transforms into Bloom.

“That sounds cool. If I end up going again, I’ll call you up.” The two of you exchange numbers, and she lies down, mirroring your position.

“So, what made you leave the city?” Her basking interrupted, she didn’t catch what you said:

“Hmm?”

“You said you were from there. I’m guessing you’re here. What made you move?”

“Oh, I’m studying here. It’s kinda like studying abroad, but not in a different country or anything.”

“I dunno, this place feels like a different country from the city.” She laughs, a cute little titter landing upon your ears.

“Yeah, it sure feels that way sometimes!”

“So wait, where are your parents? Did they move down here with you, or are you like, staying with a friend? Or renting?”

“Actually, my parent shave a summer home here, and I live there with my little brother.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s that big old mansion on the edge of town.” You saw that monster on the ride over from the orchard. The thing’s practically a castle, and all shiny, like it was made of crystal or something. The realization jerks you up, surprise covering you:

“That’s you?” She seems used to the reaction, and quietly smiles to herself, gracefully allowing you to pass through your shock.

“Yup.”

“But how-?”

“My parents have a lot of money, and a lot of trust.” You grimace at the mention of rich parents, wishing you could smile when you spoke of your own pair. Scoffing, you mutter

“Lucky.” You looks at you, interest peaked.

“Aren’t your parents rich? Applejack’s told me about them.”

“It isn’t that. It’s just… You know, I’d fucking kill to have my own place, away from them. Instead, I have to live in the same house, while they act as if I’m elsewhere, except when they need me for dumb shit like family pictures.”
“Instead, I have to live in the same house, while they act as if I’m elsewhere, except when they need me for dumb shit like family pictures or posing for charity dinners.” She looks taken aback, surprised at the sudden vitriol. You hadn’t meant to spill so much. You turn to her, a mix of embarrassment and fear Your voice trying to sound comedic, you ask her

“Any chance you can just forget I said all that?” But she just looks at you sadly, and asks you in a light voice:

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” you respond quickly, hoping to stem the tide of emotion that claws at your voice, desperately seeking to be freed. “Can we just forget this?

She looks at you forlornly, tender eyes cast down at you. You shift, uncomfortably. You don’t want her pity. You don’t want anyone’s. With a mumble promising being back soon, you stand up and dive into the pool. Immediately you find the wall and push off, furiously pushing yourself through the water. You hit the wall, turn, and push off. Anything to get away from that conversation. You hit the wall, turn, and push off. Anything to get away from your parents. You hit the wall, turn, and push off. The motions are coming slower now, the anger burning off with every iteration. Still, your intent remains unchanged. You hit the wall, turn, and push off. Motion offers you the only exit, the escape you need. Hit, turn, push. An escape from thought is the only pursuit you can endure, the images of your parents pursuing you down the length of the pool. Hit, turn, push. Along with those monstrous ghosts, the rage held onto all these years rides hot on your trail, demanding release. Hit, turn, push. More and more iterations wears down your muscles, the physical pain finally drawing attention away from the mental pain. Hit, turn… Turn again.

Your arms rise and fall onto the border, with your head sinking into them. You can feel the hot pavement sucking the coolness from your sopping arms. Heavy, quick breaths blow hot onto your arms, drying them off ever so slightly. You turn your weary head to the homebase. Twilight deep in conversation with Applejack, both of them staring intently at you. They turn away at your gaze, and you rest your head on your crossed arms once again. How could a body feel this devoid of energy? A note of shame at the realization of your openness with Twilight emerges. Geez, you meet a pretty girl, and not ten minutes passes before you freak out about your parents. What is wrong with you? You bury your head into your damp skin, a slight groan of defeat passing into it. Yeah, you screwed up here. The real question was why, however. You weren’t normally like this. Yeah, the spells of anger were there, but you could always swallow them, no problem. Playing it cool, “nah, it don’t bother me much,’ was never too hard for you. After all, you had a practiced hand. Maybe it was something about this place? These people? Your introspection is broken by a sudden pain in your stomach. Hunger pangs, ignored in favor of having fun with cute girls, had been drawn out by your exhaustion. They devastated your stomach like desperate punches, or the unspoken knowledge that your girlfriend was about to break up with you. It hurt. You climb out of the pool, clenching your teeth as the hurt multiplies. You hadn’t eaten since the morning, and now it was like, 2’oclock, you think in surprise, spotting the clock on the wall. You stumble over to AJ and Twilight, their conversation slowing as you approach.

“Hey, so do we have any food?”

AJ nods, “yeah, we brought lunches in the van. Was waitin’ til somebody said something.”

“I’m saying something,” you casually inform her, holding your poor gut. She smiles, a nervous laugh on her soft pink lips.

“Well, let’s go get it then.” She reaches her hands out to you, a plea to help her up. You grab her hands, wondering at their smoothness as you pull her up. You’d expected her hands to be much more calloused and dry; they weren’t the baby-smooth skin of some of your city-friends, but they were up there. A small feeling of remorse adds itself to the pain in your stomach when her hands drop out of yours. As the two of you leave the gates, she asks you

“Hey, do you wanna talk?”

“Uh… not really? Should I want to?” You play it off, pretending innocence. She stops and looks you dead in the eye.

“Look Anon, I’m not kidding. If there’s something going on, I want to help. If you don’t want me to help, then I won’t. But you can’t keep ignoring your problems. That doesn’t make them go away.” A frown crosses your face, feeling the pit in your stomach deepen with every word. You should just tell her to back off. She may be blunt, but she’ll yield to that, you bet. You return the stiff look she’s giving you and open your mouth. But nothing comes out. Those green eyes, soft and concerned, seem to pierce you to your core. But you aren’t completely against it. So many of your friends back home are facile, ready to abandon you at the first sign of actual need. To be honest, you weren’t too different. You lied all the time, even when you didn’t need to. And had you ever been there when somebody needed you? You tried to think of a time, but you couldn’t. Meanwhile, AJ kept staring into you, and your heart just kept sinking. Do you talk to her? Can you? But then a duo of tiny girls come stomping out the gates, latching onto your sides.

“Oooooh, is it time to eat?” comes the bright faced Scootaloo.

“Ah sure hope so, Ah’m absolutely famished!” a drama-prone Apple drawls, pretending to faint. You catch her in your arms, smiling. Escape! You’d been torn in two by an unbearable situation, and Bloom had come to your rescue. Ignoring AJ’s resigned face, you laugh and hoist Bloom up into a bridal carry. You’d never loved her more than you did now. AJ sighs and goes back to the car, pulling out a big picnic basket-looking thing. You help her lug it out to your towel-base, and she begins passing out the contents. Big Mac moseys over, sitting beside AJ and Twilight, not hesitating to reach out and take his own share from the basket itself.

Big ham sandwiches, apples, donuts, and way too many apple juiceboxes make their way through your hands as you help distribute the cornucopia. Bloom sits next to you, and keeps close to your side while the lot of you chow down. Exactly where you want her to be, you think to yourself. In a joy induced by food and Bloom, you catch AJ’s eye, and tell her you’ll talk to her later, giving her a confirming head nod when she cocks head, unsure if you mean what she thinks. You don’t realize what you’ve promised until the words have escaped your mouth, and by then, it’s too late. She’s almost beaming at you, and you don’t want to let an Apple down. Bloom’s looked up at you, confused at your mysterious communications. Her big eyes and puffy lips are just too cute, you think. You rustle her hair and smile benevolently at the beautiful little girl beside you. She sniffs and turns away, pretending not to enjoy the tousling. After the meal is finished, you lie down on the towel, a storm of emotions swirling within your chest: anger, fear, sadness, hope, and love all dancing together. Combined with the amount of food imbibed, it concludes in one turbulent stomach. You close your eyes, the light of the sun turning the typical blackness to a dim red, which softly carries you into an unexpected slumber.

Sometime later, you awake to sounds of laughter and splashing. You blink a few times, clearing your eyes of the hazy sleep still present. You see a handful of pool strangers in the pool, as well as Scoots, AJ, Twi, and Big Mac all playing your game in the hot tub. You smile, partly due to the pleasant, lingering hold of sleep in the warmth and the feeling that you’ve had a good game to share. Concern crossing the soft contentment when you notice the missing member, and scan the pool for her. Where’s Bloom? As you tilt your head to the other side, a vision in red and tan greets you. Bloom sits beside you, her back diagonal to the ground, supported by two arms pointed downwards, with forearms resting on the towel beneath her, propping her up. Her legs, longer than you remember, and far more sightly, are bent, her knees pointing into the arm, and calves a reflection of their position. She’s looking up at something, lost in thought, when you croak out a happy:

“Hey.” She looks at you, her face growing happier when her gaze alights on your relaxed form. She’s so pretty, you think.

“Hey Anon,” she whispers back, a tightness in her mouth alerting you to a measure of unhappiness in her. You frown, wondering what she’s holding back.

“Something wrong?” you say, straightening yourself up a bit and moving to eye level. She looks off into space for a minute, then turns to you.

“Are you okay?” A small amount of confusion holds you, but you feel as if you know what’s coming. You hope you don’t.

“What do you mean? It’s pool day, I’m doing awesome.” She frowns, looking at you with the same directness that her older sister had.

“Ah heard AJ and Twi talking about you, saying you were having some problems. It sounded real serious. I just… I don’t know. I want yuh to be okay, Anon.” Her eyes look so sad as she explains, more than you can bear. You sit up straight and move in close.

“I’m not gonna lie, Bloomers. I do have some rough stuff going on. I haven’t thought about it too much, and I don’t really want to.” She looks even sadder at the confirmation, but you keep going. You put your hand on her shoulder, and stare into her eyes. “But I’m a tough guy. So don’t worry about me, sweetheart.” You pause. “You know, I didn’t think I would, but so far, this vacation has been so amazing. I thought it was gonna suck, but I’m having the time of my life. I feel better than I have in a very long time. And you know what?”

“What?” she squeaks.

“A good chunk of that is because of you.” You smile as you see her light up. “Bloom, you’ve been so rad, and I can’t believe we’ve never spoken before today. And we still got three and a half more days to be together.” You lean back, falling on your back. “So let’s just enjoy it, ok?” She looks down at you, beaming. Then she joins you, lying down real close to you, her hand on yours. You lace your fingers with her, meeting her sweet gaze. Squeezing her hand three times three times, assure he r “I’ll be ok, Bloom,” and let go. She jumps on you, giving you a strong horizontal hug, before sliding back down to a point beside you. Suddenly, you realize how little you know about this girl that you’ve come to love so dearly, and set yourself to making it right.

“Bloom, what grade are you in?” From there, she begins to tell you all about herself: her teacher, Mrs. Cheerliee –who did not date Big Mac, to her disappointment-, the many adventure of the CMC, the two bullies –Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon-, and a great many more facts of her life. Towards the end, you feel like you know her well, a satisfying feeling.

In any event, you’re happy to take the spotlight off of you and place it onto your dear, sweet, precious cousin. The tumult within you softens. Somewhere along the line, you’ve closed your eyes, content with only the sound of her voice. The tales spun before you are so numerous and silly that you wonder if you haven’t fallen asleep and had dreams carry her voice onward. Big Mac pretending to be a sister, running from a more unpleasant cousin, proving a wanted criminal innocent, and so on. You barely notice when the stories stop, a short question interrupting one adventure:

“Anon?” Oh no. You pull yourself up, struggling to keep your eyes open and yawn hidden.

“I’m up. I’m here.” You inform her, offering a tired smile in apology. She purses her lips and gives you a piercing stare:

“You fell asleep, didn’t ya.”

“No! I was awake! Just… you know, resting.” You repeat to her as many stories as you remember, half of them misremembered or cobbled together with other stories. She seems somewhat satisfied, but still pushes you with playful scorn:

“Ah guess you were listening. Kind of.” She glances up at the clock, then back at you. Her lips push out and her eyes widen, a pleading look wrapping you around her finger. “Hey, we only got a little while left; ya wanna jump off the diving board with me?” How can you say no? She walks up on the board and turns to you, who waits patiently on the ground. “Well, come on now.”

“Wait, both of us?”

“Of course, silly. How’m I ever gonna make the biggest splash if I don’t have my trusty Anon with me?” Hesitantly, you climb up with her, making sure the lifeguard isn’t looking. Still sleeping. Your little cousin raises her arms and motions for you to pick her up. You do so, and take a flying leap off. The girl embraces you on the way down, shouting as you descend. KA-FOOM! The two of you sink down, you curled leg tapping the smooth membrane of the bottom. You hold her for a minute, cradling her, then kick off, launching the two of you upwards. You arrive at the top with a laughing Bloom, who slips out of your grip and paddles away. Not a second later, a might splash hits your face, accompanied by high-pitched

“Gotcha!” A deep chuckle responds, followed by a challenging

“So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?” Using your mighty man hands, you send a might wave her way, which she turns away from. A splash war begins, both of you moving back and forth, splashing constantly at each other. She turns around and kicks her legs at you, sending way more water than you expected. You reach out and try to grab the frenzied legs, immediately regretting your decision as your hands suffer her belligerent wrath. She turns back to you, looking to see if you’re hurt. You take advantage of this opportunity to deliver a few gallons to her surprised face. And so you continue for the next fifteen minutes, before the heavy accent of AJ beckons you to the showers. Bloom and you perfectly synchronize your pouts, but the feat fails to impress AJ, who reiterates her call.

Bloom swims over to the ladder on the edge, which is a golden opportunity to wrap your arm around her thin waist and yank her back. You wrap your arm around her thin waist and yank her back. You grab ahold of the ladder, and turn around, sending a victorious laugh her way.

“Ah ha ha!” You take one step up, and feel the full force of Apple Bloom collide with your back, arms wrapped around you and feet on the wall. She extends her feet, trying to pry you off, but you hold on. Realizing she can’t hold up against your huge man muscles, she wraps her legs around you too, forcing you to carry her up. Each step is like mountain biking uphill in the snow for a mile, but you manage to bring the both of you to the concrete and stand up. She doesn’t get off.

“Come on Bloom, we gotta get going.” She returns a close-mouthed

“Uh-uh!” and shakes her head, squeezing you tighter. You shake her around a bit, but she stays firm.

“Alright then, we can just go shower together!” you say, and start towards the boys’ shower. She immediately hops off with a cry.

“Ah! No way!” You laugh and head into the boys’ room, unaware of the residual staring of Bloom and Scoots, who’d begun looking at you the second she heard mention of rides into the boys’ room. You shower, dry off, put on your normal clothes, and exit. You walk over to the van, where AJ and Big Mac stand waiting. Small talk ensues, and you find Twilight has already left, apparently needing to get back to some studying. After more than a little while, the two younger girls exit the girls’ shower, whispering heatedly to another. Cahoots, you think to yourself. They look up to you, blush, then immediately return to their suspicious conversation. Definitely cahoots. The five of you pile into the van, and you’re off. The cahoots soon end, and you’re wrapped in happy reminiscing of the trip behind you.

“That was awesome! We definitely have to do that again, Apple Bloom,” Scootaloo excitedly remarks, the notion of your lack of inclusion for the next ride setting a heavy feeling in your gut.

“Yeah, definitely! Lets go to the swimmin’ hole next time!” She turns to you “You gotta come see it, Anon! It’s sooo cool, and really warm, even at night!” She leans closer, whispering in your ear. “You know what that means, right?” You look at her, a lot confused, and a little nervous:

“No…?” She gets even closer, and says, just loud enough for you to hear:

“Skinny-dippin’” You blush furiously and move away, the little girl bursting into laughter at your bashfulness. Oh, laughter? She must be kidding. Yeah, definitely kidding, you nervously think to yourself, never having done that or even thought about it. Meanwhile, AJ’s voice wafts in from the driver’s seat:

“Yeah, we’ll definitely do that tomorrow or the day after. Glad we went to Twi’s pool, though.”

“Yeah,” Scoots responds, “That way we had the hot tub, and I could kick Anon’s butt!”

“You did not kick my butt!”

“Did too!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Alright, settle down you two. Scoots, we’re here.” You look outside, the swell countryside suddenly replaced with post-apocalyptic levels of disarray. Trash cans knocked over, with the refuse of the turned over containers lining huge swaths of the sidewalk. Scoots hops over you, to the tune of Bloom shouting

“I’ll call you about the swimmin’ hole! Think you can get a ride?”

A short, affirming shout comes from the mess of purple hair, and your cousin’s bff leaps out into the hoarder’s wet dream. She dodges broken down trucks, mountains of dry wood, and who knows what else before she runs in a door. Her house is barely visible due to her yard holding the accumulation of several garage sales worth of junk. AJ puts the petal to the metal, and the van screeches out of the destitute neighborhood. Your disgust fades along with the picture of that sordid suburb in the back window, and you turn your attention to Bloom. In no time at all, your conversation with her ferries you home, and you hop out of the van and into your room.

You drop yourself onto your bed, and pick up your Gameboy. One half hour of pure pokemon mastery later, a soft knock on your door and a creak brings AJ into your room, heralding dinner. You sit down, join them in prayer, and enjoy another feast before you, your mind half-off with the gaming and emotional turbulence. A headache in the middle of dinner halts your enjoyment of the playful voice of Bloom telling of the day’s events. You ask if you can be excused, you aren’t feeling well, and receive concern and affirmation. Once more laying down on your bed, you think to sleep, but can’t. Your mind is tired, weary from the fun and pain of today’s events and recollections, but your body’s wide awake. And so you sit there, tired but awake, trying to pass the time. Another stint of time passes you by, and the same knock indicates an older Apple girl at your door.

You call out for her to enter, but all she does is peek her head in. She leans into your room just a bit, her hand gripping the door, and says to you in a quiet voice:

“Wanna go for a walk?” This is it. Your stomach heaves, the subdued rumbling of your rest now just a memory. Everything you’ve been avoiding for years could be lurking just outside of the door she grips. They probably are, in fact. Terrors, black and nauseating, ready to climb into your throat and paralyze your body with agony and hate, stoof behind the smiling girl. The smile on her face offered hope, but you could not determinate its strength, especially in the context of those horrors that awaited you, maudlin grips open and waiting for you to enter. A small part of you knows you must be over-reacting, the fears of introspection being another form of the youthful fear of the dark, applied to older persons. But just as s person in pain still feels it when they tell themselves it is mere neuronal signals, you still feel the fear when you tell yourself its nothing and you’re over-reacting. It doesn’t leave, no matter how silly you find yourself. You wonder if you even could get off the bed, if you could stand up to your childhood and all the harm it held and holds still. And you know you can’t. Nothing in the world could make you say yes, hop off the bed, and step out that door. But though you are so fearfully held by the terror of the unknown, you still wish to be free. And what’s more, you’re in possession of a knowledge that can make the impossible possible: the knowledge that perception is everything. You shove your fears to the side, clearing your mind of everything, only a dull, myopic consciousness left in your brain. And with that trick, the exit has become a simple exit, not the first step in overcoming your monsters. Under the clever plan of your now mostly deactivated mind, you say yes, hop off the bed, and step out the door. And by the time your mind awakens to your position, you’re already on the pavement, speaking casually with AJ. A shock of fear sweeps over you at the realization, but as with most fears, they rarely work when you’re set against them; now that you were here and in the swing of things, their paralyzing sting had become a mere nuisance, a buzzing in your belly.

You felt alive, energetic as you moved down the street, a beautiful farm girl at your side. But you had been brought here for a reason, and your cousin doesn’t wait two houses before she slows and asks you to open up. You take a few steps, and sit down on a big green transformer on her neighbor’s lawn. Breathing in deeply, you sigh, the weight of the world pushing your breath out.

“I- I’m not sure how to start, exactly. Uh…” You hadn’t really thought that the impending conversation would require words. You stare out into space, mind completely blank, ruining the sweet, dramatic tragedy of the confession. Real life never really did follow the movies, you think. The Apple girl, now sitting beside you, comes to a swift rescue:

“Tell me about your parents.” The word is a match to you, and you’ve got a whole stack of tinder that you finally let burn. Heat rising in your chest, you open your mouth and erupt in fury:

“My parents! Oh fuck, my fucking parents!” You look uward and laugh bitterly. “Man, where to fucking start with them! I mean, first, we’ve got my ridiculous fucking mom, the queen of parties. Always partying or planning for the next one, like a fucking high school girl!” You turn towards AJ with an apologetic look, clarifying your meaning. “I mean, like, you know how girls get when prom comes around. Nothing wrong with that, unless, you know, YOU’RE FORTY-SEVEN and doing it, I don’t know, EVERY FUCKING WEEK! Never mind the kid! Never mind the family, or the home! I fucking swear, that fucking stupid fucking bitch loves her friend’s kids more than me!” At AJ’s skeptical glance, you grin, having the proof: “Oh, don’t think so? Okay, she didn’t remember my seventeenth birthday. She remembered the birthdays –even the graduations!- of her best friend!” You push yourself up, not happy to be sitting. “Let’s go. I wanna be walking.” She does so, a mostly neutral, partly pitying expression staying on her face.

“Oh, and then there’s my dad. He-“

“Anoooooooooooooooooooooon!” The loud voice of Apple Bloom comes tearing through your rant. The shock of the interruption is evident on both of your faces as you witness Bloom rocket towards you. Her wide grin is visible even three houses away, an absurdity in the context of your virulent condemnations. She slows down as she arrives at you, but not too slow to leap into your arms, which automatically rise at the sight of her leap. Carrying her like a bride, you’re torn by the interrupted fury and overwhelming care for the love in your arms. AJ, however, is not so ambivalent.

“Apple Bloom we were in the middle of something,” she says sternly. Apple Bloom’s face falls as she turns from you to the other:

“What?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Is it that thing you and Twilight were talking about?”

“It’s not your concern, Apple Bloom,” comes AJ’s terse response. She’s clearly running out of patience, and although you don’t share her feelings, you understand them. She’s just trying to help you out, you think with a smile. But isn’t Apple Bloom too? You feel your heart leap at the thought of sharing this moment with Bloom, of being supported by her. With that, you intervene:

“It’s ok, Applejack.” You turn away from her shocked look and into Bloom’s. “I was talking about my parents. It’s something I’m kind of raw about, but if you want to stay, I’d definitely be alright with it.” Once more to AJ: “I’ll try not to swear so much.” Rather than give the buoyant, joyful reply you expected from her, Apple Bloom holds a tender gaze.

“Ah would.” You nod to AJ, confirming your choice, which she respects. And once more you begin your tirade, but this time differently. With the sweet, younger cousin still in your arms, you don’t want to come on too strong. Your words come out smoother, less venomous than before. But rather than being fake, or suppressed, your feelings feel more real than they did before. They lacked the fire and hatred, but remained passionate. This time, it felt healthier, cleaner, as if you were working out a problem instead of pouring out impotent fury.

“My dad wasn’t ever there. He was always on business trips, or at the office. Even when he was at home, he had an office there. Of course, I wasn’t ever allowed in there; got punished quite a few times sneaking in.” Apple Bloom hops out of your arms and onto the ground. You aren’t long without her needed touch, however: she immediately grabs your hand and laces her fingers with yours, holding you tightly. You smile down at her, a sad thankful given to assure her you’re happy with that, and in hopes that her delicate hand won’t leave yours.

On and on the three of you walk, while you pour out stories of your negligent parents. An orange sun descends into the glowing houses beneath it, like a letter sliding into an envelope. One story house sit in a row, an arrangement of children eagerly listening to the gesticulating boy who walks by them. The air is full and wafting, the clean freshness of a summer evening blowing stagnant heat off the bodies of the three sufferers. Trees replace houses, and the soft light of the sun flickers through them, a heavy glow still illuminating the world. Streets and Blocks bear witness to the rotten parenting of Anon Orange, to birthdays forgotten and family events as cold as corpses. A handful of fists, a backhand when a mother’s kiss was needed, and a tree filled with presents that did not make up for either fill the heady air. A lonely soccer game and a lonelier wait afterward, a dragging through a mall when little feet couldn’t keep up, and an ice cream that did not stop a little boy’s crying. But most of all, was the stillness. A house that he lived in, swallowed by a stillness that did not relent. Hollow air, devoid of childish glee and parental pride, that did not dissipate when filled with Dashboard Confessional and Bright Eyes. And finally, closing up, the giving up of a teenage boy faced with perfect evidence that he was alone. A playground with swings beckoned, and Anon’s heavy feet carried him there without his knowledge. Sitting down, he felt a surge of grief, like nothing he’d had in years, well up. Immediately, he stifled it, grimacing at the resistance it continued to put up. Three soft squeezes of his hand, and the grasping of his other by AJ brought his gaze up. Both girls were looking at him with such care, more than his parents had given, and only after a couple days. This was the final crack in the dam, and Anon began to cry. He put his hands on his head and bent over, great sobs sending his body quivering. Both girls immediately hugged him tight, the shudders of the boy now echoing through them. To his surprise, he found their eyes wet as well, his misery not faced alone.

Together the three of them sat the, each girl on a leg of Anons, hugging him from both sides. They cried quietly, the great tremors subsiding for an exhaustion, though Anon somehow felt more alive than he had for a very long time. He felt clean, finally free of an enormous weight he had not known he carried. It had been added to, little by little, over the years, and he had never truly seen the crushing weight until now, when it lay at his feet like a discarded shell. Wet, red eyes looked up to the girls beside him, and a blessed smile crossed his face. And in a hoarse voice, he whispered:

“Thank you.” Both girls raise their wet eyes to you, and smile reassuringly.

“We’re here for you,” AJ promises, while Apple Bloom just stares at you, a tragedy-stricken face. You leans into you and wraps you in a week hug. Sensing that she’s having some issue of her own, you return the embrace, squeezing her tightly. You take one of your hands and begin softly brushing her hair as the little girl erupts in tears, weeping into your shirt. Unsure if this is because of your stories, you look to AJ for answers. She bears the same tragic expression as her sister, and is now focused that sobbing girl in your arms. Looking back to you, she says in a quiet, almost resigned voice:

“We get it. Sort of. Our parents…” She stops and closes her eyes. Bringing her hand up to her mouth, she takes a few deep breaths, clearly trying to keep herself from following in her sister’s footsteps. Somewhat composed, she meets your eyes: “Our parents died 8 years back.” She sniffles, then continues: “Granny took over, but there wasn’t much she could do. I still have to leave the house sometimes, just to break free of the silence in it. There used to be so much laughter, y’know; but now…” She trails off, not finishing the thought. Your heart breaks for the Apples, but the only thing you can do is hold Apple Bloom tighter.

“I-I didn’t know.” A bitter chuckle softly falls from Applejack’s lips.

“How could ya? We’ve been dealing with it for this long, we’ve got the hang of it, ah guess. Well, most of us do.” She looks off to the distance, homewards. ”Big Mac’s the only one who never figured how to deal with it. You shoulda seen him before… couldn’t keep that mouth shut.” Again, she laughs bitterly, an anguished smile on her face. ”Can’t really blame him though.” Meanwhile, Apple Bloom’s tears grow less numerous, and she looks up to you, cheeks wet and eyes red. Quietly, almost a whimper, she gasps:

“I miss them.” You pull her head into your chest, where she faces diagonally into you, her forehead partially pressed into you. Your left hand encircles her body, keeping it connected with your own, and your right hand attends to her hair and cheek. You brush the former and caress the latter, trying to keep your cool and collected style from before, but the desperate need to make her feel better causing you to move faster than you want to. Through your almost frenetic motions, you whisper to her that it’ll be okay, that you’re sorry, pulling up every condolences you’ve ever heard and praying that one of them will console her, if only a little bit. After a minute or two, you stop, and just hold her in your arms. Neither of you cries now, instead clinging to each other, hoping for some strength in the face of your absent parents.

You reach a hand out to AJ, knowing that she can’t be feeling well at this moment. She bites her lip, and waves your hand away. Instead, your grab her hand and pull her closer to you, wrapping your non-AB-holding-arm around her. Bloom does the same, and AJ soon returns the double hug. The three of you sit together in silence for a minute, the silence broken only by deep breaths and the occasional gasp from the overwhelming might of your miseries. However, here, with these two girls, you feel better, like you aren’t carrying all of your life by yourself. On the spur of the moment, you blurt out:

“I love you.” Both girls look up at you, curious at the target of your confession. ”Both of you. I love you guys.” A spark of happiness splinters the weight of the moment when the two girls smile faintly back at you.

“I love you too, Anon,” AJ’s benevolence washes over you, her reliable eye telling you she means it.

“I love you.” Bloom whispers, simple and kind, her amber eyes rapturing you.

“I wish I could’ve been there for you. I wish I could’ve met you before now.” A bit of uplifting laughter flies from your thin smile, “I feel like I missed out on you guys.” Somber smiles return the sentiment. ”But I’ll come back. And you can always call or text me, anytime you need me. Or even if you don’t need me. Just call or text me.” Bloom chuckles and falls into your shoulder, all tuckered out. AJ, however, turns serious, and looks off, a calculating eye aimed at the clouds. Noticing the fading light and recalling the not-short trip her, you stand up: “we better get going. AJ agrees with you, and the two Apples stand up and dust off their shorts. Bloom grabs your hand immediately and laces her fingers once more with yours. You extricate your fingers, instead pulling her close and placing your arm over her shoulder. She leans into you and attaches hers around your waist, appreciating the closeness. Noticing AJ being left out, you reach over and grab her hand, though not mingling your fingers. She looks towards you, broken out of her concentration. She smiles at you, squeezing your hand a bit, then lapsing back into whatever she was thinking. And together the three of you walk, a boy and a girl clung to each other and a second girl fastened to the boy by their hands. The trip home is silent, the coupled two happy in their connection to each other and the third girl, and the third girl piecing together a plan unknown to the others. A maroon sky covers their entrance into the house, barely escaping the tide of blueish darkness. You head to your room and collapse on the apple covered bed. A girl falls to the side of you, and you realize the group hadn’t been broken up completely. Your little cousin hadn’t the strength to draw herself away from your embrace, only capable of snuggling into you further. She now holds you in both arms, her sleepy head resting on your chest. And that was fine by you.

Bloom continues to rest beside you, looking like an angel. Sitting up, you move over to the side of the bed, pushing off the heavy coat of sleep. You turn towards her, enraptured by her beauty. Bringing your hand over to her cheek, softly brushing it. Her skin felt soft, and just a little dry. Her cheeks had a little bit of chub to them, puffing out just slightly, as cheeks do. A soft cooing graces your ears as she smiles, just a little. Your heavy eyelids wish to shut, but at the same time, you find it hard to part with the image of the sleeping Apple Bloom. Is it weird to want to cuddle her? Because the way she’s lying down, all curled up with that little smile, you’re fighting hard not to cuddle up next to her. The muffled voice of AJ interrupts your struggle:

“Anon, it’s time for prayers!”

“Coming!”

“Is Apple Bloom with you?”

“Yeah!”

“Bring her too!”

“Got it!” Stepping over to the Bloom side of the bed, her back turned towards you, you wedge your hands underneath her. She grunts at the uncomfortable feeling, her slumber unpleasantly interrupted.

“Wha-What’s goin’ on?” By now your arms are now underneath her, and you pick her up. She shifts in your arms, her amber jewels fluttering at you.

“Prayers.”

“Unf,” she grunts as she adjusts herself, now more properly cradled in your arms, “I wanna sleep.” She faces up now, your arms under dangling legs and supporting her shoulders.

“In a minute, princess.” She smiles at the new nickname, and you log the experience away in your memory. Gotta remember that one. Once she settles into your arms, you walk over to the door. Houston, we have a problem; no hands left to open the door. And your princess has her arms crosses while she dozes in your arms, the scene too precious to interrupt. Remembering your technique from a couple nights ago, you sit on the doorknob, sliding down, which causes it to turn. The door open slightly, and you open it the rest of the way with your foot. It might not be the most majestic way of opening doors, but hey, the door’s open. You walk down to the elder’s room and deposit the sweet girl on the floor between you and AJ. Feeling grateful for today, you’re more open to joining in the prayers. You can remember it this time, so you join in.

“Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take. This I ask in Jesus’ name. Amen.” You spot approval on your great-aunt’s face, and nod in acceptance of it. Big Mac starts off the next ritual, stating his high as the pool and the low as the cramped van. Oh come on, you think, you had the front seat! Granny’s high was cooking dinner, and her low was cooking dinner. The serving part she enjoyed, but all the effort wasn’t too much fun for her, it turned out. Aj goes next:

“Well, my high was that walk I gotta take with my cousin and sister. There were some rough parts, but ah think we all came out a bit closer for it, and I’m real happy about that. As for my low… uh, can’t say that I have one.”

“Nuh-uh, you gotta have one,” says Apple Bloom, woken by the injustice of attempted rule-breaking. Applejack just gives her a dry look, asking her if

“you remember what yuh said two nights ago?” Apple Bloom looks thoughtful, her role as judge put aside for a minute.

“Uhh… no?”

“You said your high was Anon, and you didn’t have a low.”

“Oh. Uh. Well, Ah get special treatment,” she offers, placing a hand on a chest proudly thrust forward. It apparently works, drawing out a good-natured scoff:

“Well, ah guess my low was that Rarity couldn’t have come today. I think she woulda had a lot of fun meeting Anon.”

Apple Bloom’s turn: “I got the same high: ‘specially cause I got the princess treatment from Anon afterwards.” The family cocks their heads, including you. “Yuh know, like this.” She reaches for the sleeping dog in the corner, which you hadn’t noticed til now, and attempts to carry it like you did her. She fails, and it leaps out of her arms. Not one to accept failure, stubborn Apple Bloom chases after it, trying to pick it up. After a handful of failures, AJ tells her that we think we get the picture, and a sheepishly Apple Bloom returns to her original spot.

“Anyway, I don’t have a low. Cause Ah get to do that,” she stresses the “Ah,” and sticks her tongue out at AJ afterwards. You laugh at the mild petulance, then notice all eyes on you. Oh yeah. You needed one. Uh…

“Well, I don’t mean to sound repetitive, but I have to follow in my dear cousins’ footsteps. That walk was really something, and I don’t think words can really do it justice. But it was good, I can say that.” The two girls’ heads nod at the simple truth. “As for my low, it was riding through Scoots’ neighborhood.” Apple Bloom turns to you, gasping:

“What? Why? Do yuh not like her?”

“No no, I think she’s rad as heck. It’s just, you know, she lives in a straight up dump.”

“Eeyup.”

“She does not,” comes the squeaky reply.

“Bloom, that was a straight up wasteland! The Wasteland by T.S. Eliot was less of a wasteland than that!”

“I dunno what that is,” comes Bloom’s flat reply.

“Some trash poem. Anyway, you can’t dispute your visiting cousin’s High-Lows.” You turn to AJ for corroboration on your fresh rule: “That’s how it is, isn’t it?”

“Sorry sis, it’s rule number 15. You should really know that.” The double attacks from cousin and sister are too much for Apple Bloom to respond with anything besides a pouty huff.

“Aw, don’t take it too hard, Bloom. I can still give you the princess treatment.” You stretch your arms out in a peace offering. Turning her nose up in the air, she steps into your hands with a royal aloofness.

“Ok, but only because you insisted.” You don’t tell her that you didn’t insist, instead lifting her up like a good steed or knight would. You don’t tell her that you didn’t insist, instead lifting her up like a good steed or knight would. She can’t resist the warm allure of your arms, and is soon lazily reclining your arms. She stares at you with half-lidded eyes. You think she’s going to say something a couple times, but she just quietly looks at you. You reach her door, enter, and slowly lay her on her bed. She moves along with you as you pull the covers down and then over her, scooting off them and then stretching out. You appreciate the help, and show her with a little kiss on her forehead. You brush her cheek one more time, and tell her

“Goodnight, princess.”

“Goodnight, my noble steed.” You chuckle at the reference to last night.

“See you tomorrow.” She just grins at you as you walk away and turn out the lights, not without taking one last glance at her before you do. Then you lie down on your bed, and play Pokémon until you fall asleep.

It was a good day.