In Our Loving Memory

by Comma Typer

Chapter 3

Trotting at his own pace gave Keep ample opportunity to creature watch.

It was a habit hard to break, coming close to second nature. Waking up early and fighting the I-wanna-get-back-to-sleep monster was worth it for this small joy. He got to see the little things everyone else ignored: street-sweeping pegasi cleaning the streets and dumping the trash in their garbage wagons, elderly Steeplechase getting a sun tan while dozing off on his front lawn’s rocking chair, and an ice cream pony selling his treats to foals and other youngsters. He still remembered sallying out for ice cream as a foal, and from the same pony too.

It was also fun to guess and theorize why they did what they were doing, what they were doing before, and what they would do after. He would be wrong eight times out of ten, but that was okay. The made-up stories were amusing to think of, like whether that mare he just passed by was actually a celebrity in disguise desiring a normal life away from Applewood’s glitz and glamour.

The daily trot brought him to Canterlot’s downtown. On the outside, it hadn’t grown much aside from one or two new skyscrapers, but he did see many more creatures speeding around. A portrait of downtowners was in order: The businesscreatures had their suits and ties and were hurrying to get to work early. The tourists were taking pictures here and there with their army of cameras, and most of them wore light clothing or none at all. The unemployed or the vacationers hung out close to the more popular parts of town like the city parks or the Canterlot Mall. Being the Change’s ground zero certainly helped the city’s fame and standing in the world.

Keep turned to a less-traveled road and ambled into a convenience store sandwiched between two high-rises. Small thing it was, cute and puny with its architectural peers overshadowing it. Compared to the hustle and bustle found in the rest of the metro, this store called City N’ County was quiet with the few customers present this morning.

The strong smell of coffee welcomed Keep again as he entered, although it was freezing cold inside thanks to the air conditioning no one had bothered to adjust since time immemorial. Past the first few meters were the standard aisles of everyday goods like chips and sodas and toothpaste, but, currently, no one was shopping there. The hoofful of customers sat at the tables, all of them ponies taking up their breakfasts while chatting idly. One or two noted his entrance but did no more.

“Good morning, Keepsake!” greeted the Earth pony cashier with an all-smiles wave.

“Morning!” Keep greeted back, trotting to the counter.

“So, I guess you want your usual, no?” Without hearing the answer, she was punching buttons on the cash register.

“I’d rather start my day with my tried and true,” he replied with a knowing smirk.

With that, he gave her the money and went off to get his usual: a cup of store-brewed coffee and three plain cookies. No chocolate chips or raisins or nuts or butter or any of those impurities; just plain cookies. Keep brought his purchases to a vacant windowside table—he always liked windowside seats with the great views they offered—and sat down, ready to calm himself with a post-breakfast pick-me-up.

Creature watching came up again, especially with the wide vantage point he had through the window. With all this open space to himself, it was easier to see what could only be seen when one stopped and smelled the roses.

For instance, the roads were thinner on traffic than usual. They’d developed Equestrian-ready cars, and even then, with flying as an option and running becoming much more accessible for everyone else, there hadn’t been much left for automobiles as an industry. What took its place was everycreature migrating to buses, trains, taxis, and other forms of public transportation which could fit almost everybody.

More pegasi sailed in the sky, lugging more clouds and making way for clearer skies, probably for a sunny day as scheduled in the papers. He noted that many clouds were being transferred toward the nearest weather factory, the one a mere stone’s throw away from the historic Camp Everfree. A stormy day or two was in the works for next week.

Jogging on the far side of the road was Spring Bud. He’d grown into a full-fledged bison, a strapping massive hunk of a bovine. Bud had tried to participate in the national parkour championship, and he’d done surprisingly well for a creature of his size, topping as a finalist by the end of it. However, parkour had changed a lot in the wake of four-legged creatures attempting to vault over fences and rolling miserably on the ground instead. So, while waiting for parkour organizations worldwide to get things sorted, he had returned to long-distance running just like his father. When all was said and done, Bud was an inspiration to many in the running scene, not letting his bigger body inhibit his athletic dreams.

Also, there was a griffon just taking in the sights. Brown in feathers and eyes, beige in fur and wings. He was probably part of the tourist demographic; likely journeyed all the way from Griffonstone. Floating just a couple inches above ground, he seemed to be half-searching for something, or maybe he was lost.

And then he was looking at the pony himself. Eyes wide and all, face in surprise mode. Come to think of it, the griffon looked awfully familiar. Was it deja vu?

The tourist griffon flew straight to the store and entered with flair, landing on the floor and flapping his wings under the sun’s rays. Keep felt his heartbeat rise. He didn’t like strangers suddenly looking at him, asking him questions out of the blue. It wasn’t like he could just say no, though, and that just made it worse.

“Um… sorry, heh,” the griffon started, pointing finger guns at him, or talon guns as they said now, “but you remind me of a good friend I had in high school. Canterlot Charter High... ring any bells?”

The stallion scratched his chin, pondering on who this familiar face might be. He got the school right, that’s for sure. “Well, I’m Keepsake, and—“

“Wait, wait, wait—what?!” The griffon’s whole face lit up, talons slapped on his cheeks. “Keeps?! Is that you?!”

For good measure, the griffon flew over to his table and checked his cutie mark.

“Yup! I recognize that chair anywhere! It really is you, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s me, but…” Keep knitted his brows, scrutinizing the lion-eagle right in front of him. Phantom pain spread over a hoof—or, more likely, phantom slipperiness. “Um, are you Greely?”

“One and only, yeah!”

Greely flared his wings up and gave Keep a show, only to topple another pony’s drink to the floor.

“Ah! Hold on! Ma’am, I’m so sorry!—here, let me help clean that mess…”

Keep couldn’t resist chuckling as Greely wiped the mare’s table clean. “Still the clumsy chicken I remember, huh?”

“Hey!” The griffon puffed his chest up, gazing at him with a prideful glare. “I’ve improved a lot as a creature since we last met!”

As Greely flew back to his table, a warm feeling fell upon Keep. The voice, the looks, the cavalier attitude. Yes, this was certainly no one else but the one and only Greely from Charter High.

“So, what are you doing here?” Greely asked as he sat down. He noticed Keep looking at his empty side of the table and dismissively waved a claw. “Nah, I can take care of my own food. I already had steak this morning anyway.”

The mention of meat wasn’t well appreciated nor appropriate but a reunion was no time to bring that up.

“Actually, I’ve stayed here ever since,” Keep said. “Aside from dorming in college, I’ve lived in this city all my life.”

“Makes a lot of sense for you, huh?” Greely asked, resting an elbow on the table. “You’ve always avoided talking about your own big futures, haven’t you?”

A blush appeared on the pony’s cheeks. Greely had sometimes babbled about huge ambitions back in the day. Nabbing an awesome mansion, rubbing shoulders with the rich and powerful, living the high life.

“So, where did you go after graduation?” Keep asked. “I haven’t heard word of you since.”

The griffon crossed his feathery clawed arms and furrowed his bushy brows. “I went back home with my family and set up my own steakhouse. Greely’s Famous Meats, you know.” He flashed a self-satisfied grin. “Though I can see why you may not have heard of it.”

Keep could not afford anything else but a queasy smile. Meat hadn’t exactly been on speaking terms with him ever since he first tried it as a pony and puked to the ground. Such a gruesome experience led him away from even tofu and other meatless meats. Hay tasted better anyway.

“How’s that been going for you?” asked the pony.

Greely leaned back, setting a paw on the table and gaining the silent ire of the cashier way behind him for violating in-store table policy.

“Handsomely, if I do say so myself,” he said. “We’ve got cookouts every weekend and a grilling contest every two months. Gets the place fired up, if you will.”

The griffon went back to sitting straight, now rapping his talons on the table. “Now, what have you been doing since college? Haven’t heard much of you after graduation too.”

Internally, Keep sighed, grateful that steaks were no longer the hot topic of the day. He took in a deep breath, partly expecting Greely to make a witty comment seconds later.

“For starters, I’m a teacher.”

Astonishment was plastered on Greely’s bulging-eyes face.

“Really now?” Greely cracked before settling down. “Heh… to be honest, you don’t sound out of place as a teacher.”

He leaned forward. A good sign that he was taking this in stride. “What exactly do you teach anyway?” the griffon added.

A grin of his own crept up Keep’s lips. “I teach history… or will start teaching history. Took me a while to actually get there. I got cold hooves about going all in even after college, so I handled some other history jobs for both the confidence and the work experience.”

Greely ooh’d as he listened, knocking his feathery head in interest. “Let me guess: you’re teaching at Canterlot High, aren’t you?”

The pony almost fell out of his seat. “Huh?! How do you know?”

“Lucky guess—hah!” Greely his talon guns at him again, pleased with himself. “Plus, knowing you, you’d like to teach with the most powerful principal on the planet, especially since you’re practically neighbors.”

“What? No!” answered Keep as he traced nervous circles on the table. “It’s deeper than that, really.”

Greely crossed his forelegs again and raised a skeptical brow. “Really?”

“Yeah. I chose Canterlot High… mostly out of historical sentiment. For teaching under the legacy it’s given the whole world. You know, the seven magical girls who pioneered magic here, had connections with the other side... things like that. Teaching history there feels like the best fit for me, like everything is coming together in full circle.”

The griffon sat back up in full attention. “Good for you! I’m glad you got what you wanted. Cutie marks and destiny, am I right?”

The pony did all he could to not roll his eyes.

“Say, Keep,” Greely said as he checked the watch on his foreleg. “When are you going?”

Keep levitated the phone out of his bag and checked the time. “Twenty minutes before I really have to go. They’ll have assembly at seven-fifty so—”

“Good!”

Greely pulled out his phone. The device was utterly old, specks of rust developing on its edges.

“We’ll spend as much time as we can drinking to a dozen good memories then?” he offered, holding an imaginary mug of beer with his talon.

Keep gave him a flat look. “Greely, it’s seven in the morning, and this isn’t a bar.”

“I mean, heh, just the act of drinking liquids, Keeps!” the griffon replied nervously. “By liquids, I mean some cola, eh?”

As he stood up to get bottles of soda from the back, he muttered with a smirk, “Still a wowser, aren’t you?”

Keep gave in and rolled his eyes, sipping his coffee to wait his friend out.

The griffon of the hour came flying back with a bunch of soda to keep them company. His huge wings brushed against the tables, bothering the other diners here as they tried to eat in peace.

“So—“ he sipped through the straw as he sat back down, also turning on his phone again and then scrolling through the gallery app “—what was the first thing you remembered when you realized who I was?"

“Getting cooking oil on my hoof,” Keep said without skipping a beat.

“Good to know I made a great first impression!” Greely replied with a thumbs-up.

It reminded the pony of his first day at Charter High, when his hoof got so slippery with oil from the bathroom sink, he couldn’t walk twenty steps without tripping. That was how he met Greely in the first place, as the culprit behind the joke and surprising him from behind some random door.

“Also when we tried bungee jumping by that tower from the field trip”—Keep’s ears dipped down as he wracked his brain, memories streaming back to mind—“past official hours, right?”

It had been a hair-raising night. The buzz of living on the edge by bungee jumping way beyond midnight was bar none, and that was after getting to the top of the tower with the help of Greely carrying him past security guards and cameras. The pony had never loved flying, but he’d sure loved the adrenaline from falling so fast with nothing but a cord keeping him alive. It’d been a miracle they’d gotten out of it without getting caught.

“What about the time we replaced all the school’s ketchup with hot sauce?” Greely suggested, still scrolling his phone for high school-era photos.

Another chuckle left Keep’s mouth, rocking his head back as he relived the escapade. “Yeah, that I definitely remember. Worth it to get Miss Derby literally breathing fire out of her mouth!”

“Don’t forget the fireponies spraying fire extinguishers straight to her mouth!”

Keep rolled on his seat in laughter as he played the memory in his head, of sending the poor teacher to the clinic after it’d all settled down. Greely had chosen the spiciest hot sauce he could find from the store, and sneaking into school at night with him and Bud to empty out all the ketchup bottles and refill them with Spicyheads’ Spiciest Spicy Chili in the Spiciest World of Spice! Just remembering it gave him both the chills and the thrills of a high-stakes stealth mission.

“Ah, here!” and Greely shoved the phone to Keep’s hoof and flew to his seat, landing on the side and nudging closer to him. That was the same nudge he’d given Keep dozens of times before when a devious plan hatched in his brain.

Though the phone felt a bit stuffy to operate—ancient model and all, and it was designed for claws, not hooves—Keep managed to see the photos. He saw them all, images of a bygone era, excitedly talked over by a narrating Greely as he wrenched into memory the teenagers’ glory years.

Over here was a photo of Keep posing with a snoring teacher in the adult’s own bedroom, holding in his laughter as he applied clown-make up on Sir What’s-His-Name. Over there in another photo, Greely was preparing the most outrageous slumber party set right outside school grounds, ready to greet every teacher the next morning with nothing but sleeping students—at least none of them would be late for class! In still another, Bud and Keep were carefully towing a sleeping Thistle onto the street while Greely parked a car inches before his face. It was a prank exhibit where Thistle was the “roadkill”, meant for everybody to see and behold.

Greely, Bud, and Keep had formed an accomplished pranking trio. Greely was the mastermind, Bud was the muscle, and Keep was the pony who made sure they would not get suspended, somehow got dragged into their shenanigans, and ended up asking for more. Embodying hectic and dangerous living, it was a cool break from following stupid authorities all the time. This was on top of arguing with Mom and Dad, staying way past curfew hours, and attempting illegal activities like underage drinking. Those were the days.

But despite that—or because of that; he didn’t know—Greely had been Keep’s best friend even if the griffon’s gold heart was buried underneath his bratty arrogant self. When the pressures of hard studies, overbearing teachers, and misunderstanding parents left him drained for the day, Greely lent an ear to the pony’s woes and Greedy was ready to offer him tons of opportunities to wind down, play video games, and party whenever they could.

And, just when Keep expected him to slack and laze around all the time, he didn’t. Greely always listened whenever Keep taught him the lessons he didn’t understand or just flat-out missed. Keep sometimes stopped a Greely-approved prank when he thought it went too far and would end up hurting everybody. Even the pranks themselves softened far into their friendship; by their last year, Greely only pulled practical jokes once a week, and his graduation stunt, the griffon’s swan song, was surprisingly harmless: flooding the teachers’ rooms with heart-shaped balloons and thank-you notes. A sweet memory to cap off his time at Charter High.

Though, one picture stole Keep’s attention.

He remembered seeing it for the first time on Greely’s MyStable page the morning after. It showed him and Bud making funny faces at Couch Potato’s house. They’d been having a party there for all the “cool kids,” and Greely had strung Keep along for the ride.

For two reasons, Keep hadn’t been part of the photo. His parents would’ve chewed him out on it for being an irresponsible son partying on a Thursday night. No patience to wait for Friday, even.

Keep also knew the other reason why he was not there.

---

The house party was aglow with rowdy chaos which Greely had to wade through. Weaving around creatures dancing to electro music blaring over loudspeakers, hovering past dozens of geeks playing Ogres & Oubliettes, and ignoring fellow griffon classmates downing beverages not exactly legal for them.

He glided up the stairs onto the second floor which the party had not dared touch this whole time. Potato wouldn’t mind him trespassing. Greely was good friends with the fat pony, being everybody’s go-to guy for their nighttime shindigs. Two weeks to go until graduation anyway. Just the final day of exams tomorrow, just don’t fail one last time, and then school would officially be over.

Dark and empty were the halls, showing no signs of the pony in sight. Greely tried each door he came across; they were all locked. Hopefully, the pony didn’t accidentally lock himself in a bedroom.

At the end of the corridor, the last door was open if barely. A glimmer of moonlight slivered through, illuminating the floor like clean iron.

Greely stopped. Keep had to be in there. He wasn’t the kind to ditch his friends without telling him.

The griffon waited for a few moments, then he spoke. “Keeps? You there?”

Nothing. Only the smothered downstairs music and sound of anarchy.

Greely didn’t bother asking twice. He slowly pushed the door open.

It was a decent bedroom for visitors and friends. Moonlight scattered upon the huge rug on the floor, stretched upon the clock and the bookshelves and on the wall, and cast itself across a painting of rolling hills and their delicious grass.

Sitting on the bed, spotlighted by the moon and the stars, was Keepsake soberly staring out the window. The silver rays shining on his chair cutie mark cleared any doubt.

Greely pushed the door a little wider. Took a few quiet steps forward on both claws and paws. “Keeps? Is… is that you?”

No response. Only window-staring.

A breeze came by, and everything cooled. Greely felt the freeze falling on his feathers, but it did not faze his walk forward as he closed the door behind him.

That breeze carried to his beak the stench of alcohol. It was the stink of beer. No doubt it was Keep then, yet, in some way, he was just sitting there. The stories of pre-Change guzzlers diving further into the bottle when they’d become grain-hungry horses had creeped Greely out, so he breathed a sigh of relief that Keep behaved. At least it looked like he was behaving.

Greely flew over to the bed, making Keep bounce on the mattress before nudging closer, sharing the moonlight with him.

“So… um, why are you here?” the griffon asked, hesitating for a second. “Me and Bud’ve been looking for you.” Greely had told Bud minutes ago to search Keep out in the backyard where a pool party was going on.

The pony bit his lip and held on to the window. It was open, and the view proved amazing; the skyline of downtown Canterlot burned bright, high-rises lighting up the sky they scraped.

“What would they think of me?”

Keep’s question came out of left field. It was enough for Greely to whip his head around and strangely stare at his friend.

“Huh, what? What?... Who’s they?” Greely clasped his talons like the mastermind he was. “It’s your parents, isn’t it?”

Only silence left the pony’s mouth. Keep crossed his forelegs and dragged his head on the window sill, feeling the chill of nighttime metal.

“Come on, Keeps, you gotta get back down there!” Greely then bro-nudged him on the shoulder. “Even your Dad says you gotta wind down from homework sooner or later, especially since it’s the final final exam tomorrow. Can’t stress too much on that, am I right?”

Keep groaned, turning away from his friend and yanking himself toward the window.

The short silence between friends was deafening.

“That’s the thing though,” the pony replied several long seconds later, morose in his tone. “The final exam is coming up tomorrow.”

“Pssh!” Greely rolled spat out the window. “So what?! You’re a smart guy… okay, halfway smart, but you pass every time, so what’s the big deal? Your parents should be proud you can party and graduate! I mean, you partied before the finals each year and you haven’t dropped out at all!”

But what the griffon got back was more staring out the window. Keep’s attention was with the stars up above, twinkling miles overhead. They drew his mind away from the tempter beside him.

“You don’t understand,” Keep said. The moonlight revealed creased bags under his eyes. “How many times did we do something like this before a big quiz or some other big school thing? Partying, video game nights, sleepovers, more tricks and pranks—”

“All the time!” Greely chimed in, grabbing him by the shoulder. “And like I said all the times before, it’s all about loosening up! Can’t have algebra in your head 24/7, or else you’re gonna go insane!”

A hoof brushed over Keep’s flurried mane. More than a couple strands stood out from his mane and coat. Alcohol’s stench was coming back in full force, trickling in his breath.

“Yeah, that’s true,” said Keep, “ but… I don’t know… I just don’t know but—“

“Ugh, but what?!” yelled Greely, balling up his talons into rough fists. “Can you just spit it out?”

But nothing was spat out. Keep shut his mouth and zipped it tight. He could feel the tension thick enough for a knife to cut—Greely’s impatient eagle-eye gaze stabbing him. Yet, he could sense also the concern, the caring claw on his shoulder which spoke worry, not anger.

Keep looked down to the bed, silver light stretching across the sheets in clarity as aching dizziness seeped into his eyes and head.

“What… wh-what would future creatures think of me?” he sputtered, holding his hooves into view as if blood was on his hooves.

Surprise stirred on Greely’s features, but the griffon remained silent.

“Yeah, Greel… what are they gonna think of me... if they heard of me… doing things like this and that, pranking and joking and—yugh!—“ he planted his head on the window sill, tasting disgusting dirty metal “—drinking my education away?”

“Hey!” Greely unfurled his fluffed wings. “You’re not wasting your life on—“

He was shut up with a hoof shoved into his beak. The dazed look on the pony’s face only deepened.

“Hear…”

But Keep sighed and took the hoof out of Greely’s beak. “Just hear me out, buddy.”

Greely opened his beak, ready to assert something to get this crazy pony back on track, but stopped and lowered his head instead. He didn’t like being shushed by anyone, not even his best friend, but if it had to be like this…

“What are they going to tell?...” Keep asked.

The pony turned to the window once more, his comfort found in the sky as the ache built up though fear gripped his throat.

“What’ll they say about me ten years from now? They’ll remember me here. The day before exams could make or break me until I die. Me playing beer pong, almost lost a bet—almost got myself dunked on a toilet—chugged on fish water… hic… and all that beer, d-dude!...”

Greely gulped, eyes darting everywhere. No one should be seeing poor Keep drunk. Time was running out, time until all the beer—all six bottles of the stuff, he suddenly remembered—would finally kick in.

“And… and you know what they’re gonna say, right? ‘Heh… stupid drunkard party-goer… wasting your life away right before the big test of your life!’” The pony’s pose slackened; his hooves wobbled with his head as he slurred. “I’ll get an F, you know! I-isn’t my first time because—“

“Keeps!”

Greely slapped his friend on the cheek. He knew that wouldn’t do anything, but he tried. It could work this time.

“You gotta stay afloat, buddy!” the griffon exclaimed, shaking his friend’s head in a shoddy bid to keep him sober. “It’s bad—worse than bad seeing you like this! How can I sneak you into your bedroom if you’re wrecked?!”

But Keep kept on going, weak hoof pointed high: “They’re all gonna throw… throw me out! It’s a… y-yeah, a conspiracy, but they’re all right because I… no, why did I say yes to this stupid party in the first place? Mom’s… Mommy’s gonna kill me—ugh...”

The pony dropped dizzy, knocked out with one final hic! of a true boozehound. The alcohol had overtaken him and turned him into a beer-smelling corpse sprawling on the bed.

Nothing better than going unconscious to get away from it all.

---

It took a while for Keep to snap out of the memory. He found himself still staring at the noteworthy photo on the griffon’s phone.

A small smile popped up on the pony’s face. “Yeah… if it weren’t for you bringing me home and brushing my teeth while I was dead drunk, I’d be toast.”

Greely slapped him on the shoulder, showing off his teeth which shone by the ceiling lights. “Buddy, that’s what friends are for!”

The buddy moment lasted a little while more, with Keep cozy in the griffon’s grip.

However, Greely’s cheerful smile gave way to a more somber expression as he set aside his soda. “Honestly, though… you were always that kind of guy, weren’t you?”

That prompted some raised eyebrows on Keep’s face. “What do you mean?”

Greely sighed and rested his chin on a callous claw. Scratched his tufted chin, analyzing his long-time-no-see friend from across the table.

“You were… very thoughtful, even for a rebel prankster,” Greely admitted as he then tipped his half-empty drink around with a lonely talon, looking at the table in his own thoughtful moment. “Never in the present. Always looking either back or forward. Always kept asking questions. Yeah, you know that ruffled everybody’s feathers. Worst with me, always nagging me about it with the dragon and the water bucket. You always sounded like a bummer downer with our stunts, making things less cool… but, nah, I know you were just trying to protect me and Bud.”

Keep resisted the urge to smile. Past grievances were in the past. No need to rub it in the face with I told you so.

“Still… you always had a hoof in the future, you know?” Greely added, tapping on his soda bottle. “Maybe too much sometimes, like what would creatures thousands of years from now think about your milkshake.”

Keep had a hard time trying not to snicker. The debacle had ended up with the pony being chased a dozen blocks by the angry kirin who’d worked at the milkshake stand.

Greely snickered back, but he continued: “You tried to tell us you didn’t want to tarnish your image for our descendants long after we’re dead, when they dig up our graves, scour the museums for your milkshake selfies—“

Keep playfully hit him in the head, barely holding his own laughter in. “Okay, you gotta stop that!”

“Uh, no, I’ll say what I want!”

Greely finished with a fluffed-up chest again, perched on his seat like a bird perched on an electric line. The haughty griffon acted proud as usual, and that elicited loud laughter from Keep along with another fellow diner or two.

It all had to stop though, and after the laughter faded, Greely coughed, trying to find the right words to say. He let out a relieved sigh, giving himself some time to think out his message for the pony.

“I guess what I mean is… you were the most mature of the bunch by the end.” He was serious. The stern, no-nonsense look on his eyes said it all. “I’m sure you know my way—having lots of fun once in a while and all the time—but I respect how you saw everything back then. Heh… makes even more sense, you being a history teacher and all...”

Once again, a claw was on Keep’s shoulder, again with its firm hold on him. Griffon claws and talons always felt rough and scraggy for him. Awkward too since he couldn’t grip the claw back with a hoof.

But it mellowed out with a smile, knowing it was Greely’s friendly claw.

“… and I’m glad that I was your friend, Keep.”

It was the perfect moment to say something cute like Aww! Such was the mood at the table.

Instead, the pony just asked, “Why stay that way? We can still keep in touch, you know!”

“Ah!” Greely also didn’t notice himself gobbling in surprise like a turkey. “Honestly, I forgot about you for years now. Didn’t think of searching you up on MyStable. Wanna chat online after this?”

Keep had already brought out his phone. “Sure! I’d like that.”

~ ~ ~

Keep and Greely ended up becoming online friends on MyStable. It led to a winding conversation about how their lives had been after Charter High.

For Greely, he’d married a beautiful hen, and the griffon couple was already expecting with an egg in the nest. She cooked well too, making them the perfect grilling duo for his steakhouse. Keep shared his own history of love interests, ending up with his one and only Burnt Alloy

“You’re still friends?!” shouted the clearly astonished griffon.

Unfortunately, after a few more minutes, Greely had to go. He still had an errand to do. Had a meet-up with some old griffon classmates from high school; off to watch and bet on the afternoon pony race in Equus Stadium which was just a quick flight from here.

Goodbyes were had, and he was gone flying.

Keep proceeded to finish off his cookie-coffee pair. As he sipped and ate, he enjoyed things at his own pace and watching other creatures pass by outside, doing their own thing at their own pace.

He slipped in a casual glance at his phone.

It was seven forty-five.

One loud yelp rang through the store, and everyone else was looking at him. Keep slung his bags back on and raced out. No time to say thanks to the cashier or clean the table.

Comments

[Venerable Ro]

An acquaintance is someone you nod at on the bus, a friend is someone you have a drink with on the weekend, your best friend is the one who carries you home afterwards.

[Comma Typer]

9810506
Playground regulations would get a lot more complex to ensure nobody gets hurt, although there's only so much you can do to prevent things like this happening. Then again, pegasi are a hardy folk; I'm sure a crash or two is a mere bump in the head for them.

9812408
A best friend forever is one who completely makes it like nothing happened at all: he brushes your teeth, throws some cologne at you, tucks you to bed, and flies off without leaving a trace.

[Greenhorn]

It was seven forty-five.

Keep forgot to ask Greely for an urgent ride.

[Comma Typer]

9812688
For a pony whose name is related to memory, that's quite forgetful of him!