Our girl Scootaloo 1 of 3

by Cozy Mark IV

Ch. 16 Protest and Betrayal

Our Girl Scootaloo

by Cozy Mark IV

Disclaimer: This is a non-profit fan-made work of prose. My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic is the property of Hasbro. Please support the official release

Chapter 16: Protest and Betrayal

The tension was almost palpable by Monday morning. The morning announcements began with a stern reminder from the principal that no more disruptive behavior would be tolerated, especially at the school pep rally later that morning. Scootaloo knew what they had to do, but she still found herself chewing on her pencil as the first period wore on.

During the class change to second she shared nervous glances with several other cheerleaders when they crossed paths in the hall. As second period got started, the girl next to her who she didn't really know except as the Library Club president passed her a tightly folded note with a wink and a nod to her hand. Scootaloo continued to feign attention to the teacher as she quietly opened the note, and nearly dropped the handcuff key that fell out.

"Scoot – thought you might need this. Good luck today."

Startled, Scootaloo openly stared at the girl who's name she couldn't remember. Without acknowledging her look, the girl gave her just the slightest nod and laid her hands, palms down, on her desk. On the back of each hand, written in red ink were the words 'I must not tell lies.'

A second later, she heard a snatch of a song whistled by one of the boys from Drama Club who'd been catching hell since almost any protection for gay or even just theater-fan guys disappeared under Pastor Gray. It was from 'West Side Story,' and as he tapped the side of his nose conspirator-style and winked at her, she remembered the lyrics were 'Play it cool' and that the song was about getting ready for a rumble.

Then, in the hallway on the way to third period, she could've sworn that one of the Goth girls winked at her and flashed a metal-horns gesture of support. A pair of girls and a boy whose campus-interfaith group had been driven to the margins by Gray matched pace with her for a second, the Jewish girl whispering something that sounded encouraging in Yiddish, the Sikh boy nodded in a meaningful way and tapped his jeans pocket, and the sole atheist girl said 'Brave thing you're doing!' in a stage whisper. They peeled off in different directions before a teacher could spot them and Scoot's next sight was of tall Demi Findlay, Josie's big brother, saying something in Klingon to Melissa. She patted his hand and Scootaloo realized that just about every clique in the school, from Literature nerds to Goths to the religious kids to even the Drama Club and the super-geeky boys from A/V were, if not on board with, at least aware of the protest.

She felt stage-fright beginning to make her chest tighten.

The morning wore slowly on, the clock ticking its way on towards the pep rally just before lunch when it was all going to happen. They had been over the plan again and again, but there were still so many things that could go wrong. As third period drug on the clock seemed to slow down as Scootaloo's mind imagined all the ways they could fail.

'What if only a handful of people join the protest?'

'What if they all chicken out?'

'What if nobody shows up to see this?'

'What if I get singled out? The only girl out in front of the entire school?'

She shook her head and tried to stay calm, but as third period ended and the entire school started filing into the gym she was just about ready to pull her mane out.

She felt like a fugitive as made for the girls' locker room with her saddle bag stuffed with condoms, having to travel the entire gym floor to get to the locker room on the other end of the floor. When she made it inside, she saw that the other squad members were looking at least as haggard as she was.

It was only as they changed into their uniforms that the atmosphere of nerves gradually faded.

"All right," Josie finally spoke up. "We all know what the stakes are here."

There were general nods of agreement, and a little enthusiasm.

"And we all know why we're doing this. We're doing this to get that old baggage kicked out of our school."

This brought murmurs of approval from several girls.

"We're doing this so we never have to take a friend or a sister to the abortion clinic."

For the first time, Scootaloo could feel anger as the group agreed.

"We're doing this for all the girls whose lives he's already shattered."

All of them knew someone who had been affected by Gray, and this got a shout of agreement as the momentum built.

"We're doing this for Amelia! We're doing this so that bastard can never rape another little girl again!"

That did it. The squad was now cheering Josie on and chanting as though getting ready for any other meet. Outside they could hear the band whipping up the crowd in the gym, and they each grabbed a bowl, loaded it up with the forbidden condoms, and burst through the doors, right on cue.

The response from the stands was electric, and as they formed two lines and showered the crowd with contraband, they belted out the school cheers just as they always had.

To say Pastor Gray was angry would be an understatement. Despite the warning, he hadn't expected a rebellion on this scale, and as his face burned red with rage he began shouting threats and ultimatums that the squad tactfully ignored. Josie swung by and showered the group of teachers with a handful of condoms, one of which stuck in his combover as she pranced off, still belting out the cheers with the rest of the squad.

Now seething with rage, Mr. Gray called Officer Hogan over and ordered him to help, grabbing a pair of cuffs for himself. The two of them each picked a cheerleader and unceremoniously yanked their hands behind them and cuffed them, spilling the half empty bowls of condoms in the process. They had obviously expected that a dramatic gesture like this would bring the protest to a halt, but Melissa only stopped long enough to fill her bowl back up from the one Josie had dropped, gave Mr. Gray a cheery smile, and went right back to cheering.

Officer Hogan and Mr. Gray were able to cuff four more cheerleaders before they ran out of handcuffs and Gray, nearly hopping with rage, had to send Officer Hogan back to the office to get more. Fortunately Josie had warned them that this might happen, and Scootaloo went back to the locker room and returned with more bags which she used to re-fill their bowls as crowd continued to cheer for the squad.

Eventually Officer Hogan returned with a box of cuffs, and as the two of them chased down the remaining members of the squad they started to get a mix of boos and catcalls from the disapproving crowd. Scootaloo chose not to comment on the stupidity of putting handcuffs on a prosthetic as she let the principal cuff her, suffering his anger with a wide smile as the boos and yells from the crowd became louder.

Even Mr. Gray could tell that this wasn't going his way as the band ground to a stop and only the angry boos and insults from the students were left.

"Officer Hogan! Help me get these sluts out to the front entrance, you can take it from there." Gray shouted over the crowd.

As they were herded out of the gym, Scootaloo caught sight of Melissa grinning; he had just shouted that in front of hundreds of camera phones.

Without their hands, the girls couldn't easily navigate the doors, so the two men shoved the squad members out as best they could. Scootaloo shouldered her way through and as she came to a stop outside she felt something pull on her mane. Looking left she was surprised to find Christina nervously holding on to her as best she could with her hands cuffed behind her. She was blushing fiercely as she answered Scootaloo's questioning look with a whisper. "I just need to hold onto you... Please..."

Scootaloo smiled warmly and edged closer to her. "It's okay, I don't know what I'd do without friends like you."

Only once they had dragged the last girl out, knocking several others to the rough concrete did they stop long enough to look around. Parked in front of the school were at least half a dozen news vans and nearly twice that many reporters already filming as the cuffed cheerleaders reached down as best they could and helped their friends to stand back up.

"What is this?! What are all of you doing here?!" Pastor Gray thundered as the first crew approached.

"Sir! Would you care to comment on the protest at your school today?"

Caught off guard, Gray answered. " What?... But it... It was nothing I couldn't handle. These students just disrupted a pep rally and distributed contraband in flagrant violation of school policy."

The news crew never missed a beat, almost as though they had been briefed. "Sir, we were told they were distributing condoms to other students. Is that a violation of this school's policy?"

"It most certainly is a violation of school policy and the law to hand out sex aids in a school!"

"Thank you, and who was it that authorized that change in policy?" a reporter asked.

"And when was that made a law?" another one piped up.

"What are you talking about?" Gray asked, his anger still running high. "This has always been policy!"

Scootaloo smiled at this; there was no such rule in the school handbook, nor anywhere else in the county or state regulations. He had just admitted to arresting them all without good cause. "Funny how people in a half-religious, half-crazy hurry to subjugate women forget all kinds of paperwork," Josie had smirked upon discovering this bureaucratic oversight.

As the reporters continued to pepper him with questions, Gray's anger only seemed to build, and just as he was responding to allegations of chauvinism, a word whose meaning he didn't seem to grasp, the front doors of the school opened and the rest of the protest began in earnest.

Caught in the middle of a tirade, it took Gray a good thirty seconds to realize that most of the reporters were no longer looking at him or the increasingly uncomfortable Officer Hogan. He turned around and just stared, obviously having difficulty processing what he was seeing.

Standing behind him were already over a hundred students, all of them wearing a variation on the Middle Eastern burqa that covered the girls completely from head to toe. The was no chanting, no youthful yells or jeering, just stony silence as their blank veils regarded them, and as Gray stammered and cursed, the doors of the school remained open and more and more students joined them.

Several of the news crews had gone to talk to the rest of the protesters, leaving the steaming Mr. Gray behind with a now very uncomfortable officer Hogan. They tried several times to get someone to comment, but despite their prodding, the rapidly growing crowd of high school girls remained eerily silent, only producing variations on the same message written over and over on cards or the backs of an envelops. Into the silence, broken only by the shuffling of feet and the rattling handcuff chains, the news anchors began reading the messages.

"This is how Pastor Gray likes his women."

"When I watched a friend's life crumble with an unwanted pregnancy, this is how I felt."

"Under Pastor Grey's governance, the teen pregnancy rate at his old school doubled."

"Is this what you want for your daughters?"

"This is where we are going."

More and more students continued to pour thought the doors, and as Scootaloo watched in amazement, she saw that some of them were not using the burqas she helped make. Scattered throughout the crowd were different styles, different colors and shapes. A few were better made than theirs, though most were more crudely done, the odd one here or there apparently made out of garbage bags, but nonetheless, they were here. As her heart swelled with pride, one of the reporters singled her out.

"Ms. Scott, what made you decide to lead this protest?"

At first she thought he must mean someone else, but then she felt a great many eyes on her as he repeated the question.

"Ms. Scootaloo Scott! Why have you led this protest today?"

Her heart skipped a beat and she felt the pit of her stomach drop as she turned to face the reporter. "Wha- What?"

"Several sources have reported that you have been leading and orchestrating the protest today."

She had been ready for a lot, but not for this. With most of the squad looking on, several more cameras focused in, waiting for a response as she pulled at her handcuffs, and struggled for words.

"But... I didn't..."

A single face among the cheerleaders caught her eye. Nearly everyone else looked surprised or shocked, everyone but Josie, who simply nodded towards the cameras.

One reporter rephrased the question. "What were you trying to accomplish here today?"

Scootaloo had spent a lot of time in front of cameras over the years. Her mind latched onto that question and she pushed her fright aside as best she could and answered.

Ten feet away, Pastor Grey looked like he was about to have a stroke. He was ranting at the assembled students, raving about violations of dress code and threatening them with joining the cheerleaders if they didn't go back inside at once.

The stony silence was unbroken, his voice the only one to be heard. "Oh, you think you can hide behind those things, don't you?! Let's just see who you are!" He finished as he grabbed a burqa and yanked it off. Before him stood a heavyset and very frightened looking girl Scootaloo knew from her advanced chem class.

"I'll see you expelled for this!" He thundered as he began grabbing the burkas and tearing them off one after another, revealing several more nerdy looking girls, two goths, and one big guy she recognized from the varsity football team who just fixed Gray with a stern look.

"What the hell is your problem?!"

Still getting no answer, he moved on down the line, not even bothering to look at some of them until he came to a particularly tall person who, once the burqa was yanked off, turned out to be Ms. Chisholm.

"You!? I'll see you fired for this! You can't do this-"

Her stern expression matched her deadpan tone as she finally spoke. "I think you want to stop this. Now."

He continued to rant at her, taking several seconds to follow her gaze to the last group of girls he had disrobed. Of the eight, most looked scared, but two stood out; one girl who looked about fourteen was clothed only in her underwear and as he stared at her she held his gaze.

"These burqas were made accurately. They can be torn off us by a man at any time. I think you can guess what comes after that."

As it finally seemed to register that this was not looking good for him, the smallest girl stepped forward, also in her underwear. She was shaking with fear, but the football player had a hand on her shoulder, backing her up as she slowly stepped forward.

"I went to middle school under you." She stammered and tried to collect herself as the cameras looked on. She was maybe fourteen years old and five foot one, and next to the huge linebacker beside her she looked especially frail and small. It was also impossible to ignore the bulge of her abdomen.

"I trusted you. I... I trusted you would look out for the kids in my school! You kept me ignorant! You lied to me!" Tears were flowing freely down her cheeks as she struggled to continue. "I could have done things differently, but I didn't know!"

"Well that's between you and your boyfriend! It's not my problem if you can't keep your knees together!" Gray's angry retort obviously stung her, and she turned her back on him, openly sobbing now as the linebacker covered her in his jacket. The huge football player slowly turned to face the principal, his hands balled into fists.

"I'm not her boyfriend." he managed through clenched teeth.

"That's not my problem! That's between you and your ex-girlfri-"

"I'm her older brother and she was date-raped."

That seemed to bring the principal back to the present as he looked up into the angry face of the huge man.

"So, if it's not your problem, whose problem is it?" A girl Scootaloo knew from her math class asked. "You could have prevented this! You could have taught her basic information and we wouldn't be here today! But you didn't, did you? And because you didn't do your job, all of us are going to have to clean up your mess!"

"This is ridiculous! I'm not going to violate my religious convictions so some slu-" The linebacker pulled his fist back and a number of others jumped forward to hold him back as pastor Grey backed off a few steps. At a safe distance, he looked him in the eye "I will not help a bunch of sluts like your little sister there avoid the consequences of their actions! My job is to teach to the state tests! If you ignore the Bible, the word of God, you are going to get what you deserve! I just pray you can change your sinful ways!"

It was now taking a good six people to hold back the girl's older brother as he struggled to reach the principal. Grey turned back to where Officer Hogan was waiting with the cheerleaders.

"Technically, couldn't that last statement be construed as a school administrator leading a prayer on the grounds of a public school?" Josie asked rhetorically, directly into the microphone of a fellow from Channel Four.

"Officer! I want that boy arrested for attempted assault! And those two as well!"

He added pointing at the two girls still shivering in their underwear. "And shut that one up!" he cried, pointing at Josie as if it were all her doing. "What would your parents think?"

"Hi, Sweetie!" a voice from beyond the reporters cried. The newscasters turned and saw a couple dressed in purple-and-white 'I Love My Cheerleader' shirts that the athletic association parent boosters had sold for last year's fundraiser, special hats in the school colors and, inexplicably, they had mini-pompoms in the hands that weren't holding cameras. Josie's dad was filming and her mom was taking pictures. They waved as if they were at the halftime show of a football game.

"Our baby girl's first protest!"

"I'm so proud!"

Hogan nodded reluctantly, (but not before glancing in shock at Josie's parents as if they might have, in fact, been from Mars,) and got out another pair of cuffs. But before he could close the distance, a sudden flurry of motion and noise drew everyone's attention to the huge TV that adorned the front entrance of the school. The camera angle swung around, and settled on the image of a somewhat scruffy looking tenth grade girl sitting in a hospital bed.

"Amelia, could you please tell me about what happened at your church?" Josie's voice asked.

A few of the cheerleaders knew, but to everyone else, this was news. Silence fell as Amelia proceeded to talk about her 'special time' with Pastor Gray's deacon. As she went into detail about what the deacon had had her do, Scootaloo could see that even some of the seasoned reporters were cringing.

"I was a little scared, but when I told Pastor Gray I was scared, he said I should pray about it. So I knew then that it was okay. Sometimes Deacon would even come visit me at school. In the special-needs classroom, there are padded..."

For the first time, the assembled protesters could be heard, and the anger now bubbling to the surface was visceral. As the reporters re-focused their attention on pastor Gray, officer Hogan stepped forward.

"Mr. Gray? I'm placing you under arrest in connection with the molestation and rape of... whoever that little girl is." he finished, a tremor audible in his voice. The principal was still too shocked to respond, and for the first time in almost half an hour, he was silent as the officer cuffed him, stuffed him into the back of his waiting cruiser and drove off to the station.

Christina was still holding her mane, and as cheers erupted from the assembled crowd she asked. "Does... Does this mean we won?"

"I... I think so..." Scootaloo answered, still obviously shaken.

"Hey, what about us?" Melissa asked, pulling at her handcuffs.

"Oh, hold on a moment, will you?" Josie answered from the back as the other protesters spread out, and several came to congratulate them. She fished the cuff key out of her pocket and proceeded to unlock the rest of them. As the groups mingled and the teachers tried to herd everyone back inside, Scootaloo noticed Melissa tuck the cuffs into her waist band. When she noticed Scootaloo's raised eyebrow she blushed and whispered. "What? Demi only has the one pair."

"Demi...you...what?"

"Who did you think was getting the video running during the pep rally?"

"You...this..."

"Yeah, the condoms were Stage One, the video was Stage Two, and Stage Three was strictly the grounds of the A/V Club," Melissa explained, removing a little clip from her ear and turning the end of what'd looked like a Bluetooth headset at her face. "Love you, Dem," she told the tiny camera, and to her side, there were two millisecond-long bursts of static on the TV screen, as if the unseen controller of the broadcast had just used glitches to say 'You, too.'

"Static? I thought that feed was digital," Josie remarked, stepping away from the clump of reporters now that the kids in their underwear and the brave pregnant ninth-grader's big brother were the focus of the attention.

"It is," Melissa sighed, in an entirely soppy and totally lovesick voice that would've made even Scootaloo want to heave if it hadn't been so, well...adorable.

That, and she was distracted.

"Josie...those reporters thought I was leading the protest."

"Yep."

"But you're the one who called them. You're the one who organized everything. You even had your geek-ass brother in on it!"

"Technically, I had both of my geek-ass brothers in on it," Josie explained, preening a little. "Laurie shot the video at the hospital and encoded it. Demi handled the broadcast. I was worried for a second that he might start it at the wrong time, but he said he'd manage." She noticed the camera in Melissa's hand. "Oh, he used one of them to watch? Funny, I assumed he'd hack the security cameras...did he give that to you?"

"Who cares about the stupid camera? Josie, you told those newscasters I was running this!"

"Well, of course. How the hell else did you think I'd get them all to show up?"

"But I didn't run this! It wasn't even my idea!"

"No shit, Scoot. Thing is, if an angry teenage girl whose cousin got molested starts a school protest, that's only going to even warrant print coverage if it's a very slow news day. If a talking cartoon pony with guaranteed ratings decides to lead her sister suffragettes with pompoms and the entire school in a mass protest against an already somewhat-controversial authority figure, that's the headline. It'd take a mass shooting or a terrorist attack to beat that for the regional daytime Emmy for news coverage."

Josie was matter-of-fact, straightforward and completely unapologetic. "And the best part is that until it actually happens, they can present it to their show-runners either way. 'Troubled child star falls in with malcontents?' 'Last of her kind and scientific savior of a legion turns to social justice?' 'Wow, the famous Scootaloo Scott is a cheerleader and we get to film her in uniform?' Scoot, we even got the sportscasters to film this thing. Two thirds of those cameras were running live."

"But you lied!"

"No, I presented the story in a way that mass media would find not only palatable, but irresistible. You think I could've told them about the rape and the pregnancies without turning them all off because it was depressing as fuck? You think they wanted to show a bunch of cheerleaders uniting their entire school to run a principal who was complicit in rape essentially out on a rail? What the fuck would that do to the status quo? If ordinary teenage girls promised that kind of a story, they'd never have believed us. So Phase Three was a secret, even to you. I thought-" here she gave Melissa the strangest look, "it was a secret to everyone."

"So you told them it was me running things? Josie, that's not fair!"

"We didn't do this for credit, Scoot. And frankly, I don't think the genuine look of shock you gave them when that screen lit up is going to hurt the argument that this wasn't just you by any means. You can't fake that look."

Josie looked a little sheepish. "That, and you're the only one of us with media experience. I couldn't depend on Christina to not stammer or get scared, even Melissa isn't the best with public speaking and...I'm not so hot with it myself. You're used to this. You've been on talk shows since you were a tiny filly. Those reporters asked you what the fuck was up and you were poised, confident and in control. You were on-message, didn't so much as use an 'um' and you came off as calmer, cooler and more rational than that idiot Gray."

"I was terrified!"

"Yes, but you were also the best public speaker we had, you're the only cartoon pony in the world and like it or not, Scoot, you're news. I had to talk up your involvement or none of these networks would even have shown up. You were the single biggest draw we had and I had to use that."

"You mean you had to use me."

"I didn't lie when I told them Scootaloo Scott's cheerleading squad was leading a protest."

"Well, that's some back-assward journalism, Josie Findlay. Melissa's the squad captain. So I'm the only pony here, big deal. I'd probably have been okay with it if you'd've told me what was going on!"

"I couldn't do that. If you'd sounded rehearsed, if it looked for one second like you were really running this thing, Pastor Gray's political party would be on you like flies on shit. As it is, all you have to say is that the squad did this, or hell, throw me under the bus right back if you feel like it! The tape shows a cartoon pony who was not leading the protest, but who had her friends' backs in the clutch. And don't forget, you're the only one here with no stake in this. They can't slut-shame the only girl in this place who is biologically incapable of being knocked up by a teenage boy."

"No stake! No stake in this? Because I'm a pony?"

"Poor choice of words maybe. You're the most bulletproof person here. Gray can call us sluts because we're young women. You're a different species, it's kind of harder to jump on you. Especially considering the school only has that new stadium, the sponsorships and those fancy new TV screens at every entrance for morning announcements because you're here."

"This wasn't supposed to be about me!"

"It wasn't and it was. You're one of us and we relied on you this time, but you know you can expect the same from any one of the crew. Sometimes the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few," Melissa explained.

"...Was that a 'Star Trek' quote?" Josie asked, looking suspicious again for a split-second.

"So you were in on this, too, Mel?" Scootaloo asked, almost tearfully.

"I had no idea Josie was persuading the reporters to show up because you'd be here," Melissa soothed, patting her friend on the withers near her wings. "But on the other hand, I can't say I'm all that surprised. And it did work."

"You could have told me. You could have asked me."

"Scoot, I know this seems really unfair and backstabby-"

"Seems? It seems because it is, Josie! And you know what? I'm tired of you making the hard decisions for everyone because you're some iron lady geek-girl with everyone from Jesus to Spock behind her. Sometimes it's not about you, either! This wasn't fair and…and I don't think I ever want to see you again."

"...I had prepared for that eventuality," Josie replied, her face absolutely expressionless.

"You were prepared for me to hate you like the Machiavellian traitor you are?!"

"Yes. If the cost of ousting Gray was me losing one of my dearest friends, well, I've earned a lot worse than that."

"Can you even hear yourself, you...you sociopath!"

Scootaloo, finally past the point of dealing with her ex-friend, wheeled on her hooves and galloped toward Ms. Chisholm, who was talking with Daddy and Papa. Her parents would take her home. Christina followed behind her and Melissa turned sternly to Josie.

"That was awfully cold."

"Better I lose a friend than we lost this battle," Josie sighed. "I hurt her and she's right to be angry. Better she hate me now than never have gotten those men out of here." Her voice was flat with pain. "If I'm not prepared to lose everything I care about in defense of others, I haven't got the right to friends anyway."

"Okay, you need to snap the fuck out of it. That is some suicide-bomber talk right there."

"Suicide is inefficient and counter-productive."

That was it. Melissa knew there was only one way to shock Josie off her depressive jag.

"Josie...I'm dating your brother."

"Really? I thought he seemed happier." Josie stared at her sneakers.

"I have fucked him several times and enjoyed it in ways of which a lady should never speak. He is exceedingly capable with his tongue and we enjoy depraved pleasures which would melt Pastor Gray's brain right out his hairy ears were he to hear of them."

"Everybody needs a hobby," Josie sat down on a bench, clearly impossibly depressed, but she did look determinedly away from Melissa, and she was blushing.

"I had to sneak into your room for more condoms out of the protest-supplies because we ran out of flavored ones. The cinnamon is our favorite. And we have frequently been making exceedingly erotic comments to each other in plain sight of others at this very school." Melissa watched Josie...still depressed. "In Klingon," she added triumphantly.

That did it.

"Oh, Jesus tap-dancing Tidy Bowl Christ on the blue water, Melissa! Did I need that mental image?" Josie put her hands up to her head as if to protect her skull from exploding with the impossible squicky yuckiness of it all.

"And you know what else? You aren't going to have anyone to bitch to about how exceedingly squicky and gross and awful the very idea of it all is, not until you apologize to Scootaloo!"

"You will assuredly answer for this at the Hague someday. Tactical TMI on an unarmed population of me."

"Yeah, yeah, when the Uniform Code of Military Justice recognizes descriptions of the sheer amount of smutty roleplay we get up to-"

"Please, no-"

"I'm just so comfortable with Demi and he's so accepting of my every fantasy. Even the-"

"OH, FOR FUCK'S SAKE! I WILL CALL HER WHEN SHE GETS HOME!"

"Very good. And any time you two fight again, I have explicit text messages I can read aloud. And also emails."

"You are an awful person in every way," Josie growled. "...If...if you help me apologize, I'll help you and Dem keep mom n' dad off your backs."

"I could live with that."

"Though if you make an aunt of me, Melissa Adams, I will need to have you and Demi killed. Purely on principle."

"We went to Planned Parenthood on our fourth date," Melissa explained, getting that ridiculously lovesick note in her voice again. "We both got STD tests and went dutch on an IUD."

"First, ew, second, aren't those like five hundred dollars..."

"Seven, actually, but on the sliding income scale it was very affordable. And then, since we couldn't really do anything that day, what with the insertion and all, we went and got ice cream and saw a movie at the old drive-in out by the airport. Luckily, they make flavored dental dams as well, so ...we managed until I was back into fighting trim."

"This frank-discussion-of-our-sexuality shit is all well and good, Mel, but you're dating my brother." Josie looked seriously pained and cracked a Gatorade from her locker with the air of a tortured martyr, then straightened suddenly. "...Is this part of my punishment for telling the reporters Scootaloo would be here?"

"Oh, yes. And for every fucked-up Steely Dan song you have ever left in my head, and for every time it was your turn to unload the dishwasher and you said it was Demi's."

"...You know about that?"

"I'm dating your brother, Josie. If you had prepared to alienate your closest and dearest friends for the sake of your little sexual revolution, why hadn't you prepared for the less awful but more icky one, that your brother and I might bang like bonobos and then tell you all about it?"

"I'm capable of facing emotional pain bravely. A vicious case of the squicky-feelings, not so much." And with that, Josie's grin came back, then stiffened and faded. "Is she gonna forgive me, Mel?"

"I don't know, Josie," Melissa sighed. "But if she doesn't, I have some extremely smutty fanfiction Demi and I have been writing together that will email right to her smartphone."

"This must be how President Truman felt," Josie sighed. "You try to end a war and pow! A new age of horror and yuckiness! My own brother and my best friend."

"Well, you did kinda bring it on yourself."

"Stalin never had to put up with this shit."

Comments

[Coranth]

Scoot should totally buck (kick) that traitorous...

...

.......

...........

TWI SMASH!!!

... but I can understand why it went down that way, I guess.

[MiasmaGrim]

I wonder who is in that fanfiction Mel was talking about.....
Keep up the great work! :3