You Want to do What?
Despite her best efforts to avoid the warm light of the midday sun, it still managed to filter through the hedge she had taken refuge behind, telling of a beautiful spring day that she wanted no part of. Few, if any, knew of her hiding spot, making it the perfect place to escape from world while she thought.
Even under normal conditions, sunlight was not her thing. Long hours spent indoors reading had paled her skin, making her burn quickly when outdoors. But today made it that much more unbearable. It was as if nature itself was mocking her, like the school counselor, who constantly babbled on about how things would get better, that she just needed to give it time.
They didn’t have a clue. It had nothing to do with the loss of her parents, or how frequently they moved. At least, that wasn’t the real issue. She could not have cared less if they moved every other week, just so long as the family they lived with actually cared.
No matter how she looked at it, things looked bad. The night before she had overheard her current guardians, she wouldn’t give them the honor of calling them family, talking about putting them up for adoption.
The idea itself was not a bad one. After all, if her blood relatives did not want her and her brother, perhaps someone else out there would? But no, they were going to split them up. Ship Spike away to a home for young children because of his age, while she was put up for adoption on her own.
Indeed, things looked bad, but she still had options. They could stay and risk being separated, or they could set out on their own, and she could care for Spike herself.
“Enjoying the shrubbery, Miss Sparkle?”
The smooth, baritone voice caused her to start in surprise, and knock her head into the wall beneath the window. Gingerly touching the bruise on her head, Twilight twisted around and came face to face with Canterlot High’s infamous drama teacher, Professor Entropic State, leaning out the window above her. “What do you want?”
A wide, cheshire grin stretched across his bony face. “Just checking the weather. Thought I saw rain clouds, turns out it was only you. A pity, I was so looking forward to practicing my alto.”
“Sorry to disappoint. Guess you’ll have to save singing in the rain for another day,” she snapped, pointedly avoiding eye contact. His amber eyes always felt like he was staring into her soul.
The man sighed and gave the sky a wistful look. “Sad, yet true. But,” he lowered his voice as he leaned further out the window, practically whispering in her ear. “There’s still one rain cloud today. What gives?”
“None of your business.”
“Oh contraire, Miss Sparkle, the happiness of my precious students is always my business.” His long fingers clasped around her shoulder as he projected in an irritatingly theatrical tone, “What ill has befallen you?”
“Oh, nothing much. Just destitution and the ravings of a lunatic hanging out a window.”
He twitched, adjusting the rectangular spectacles dangling precariously from his hook nose. “Forgive me if I am concerned over your well-being, Miss Sparkle.” The smile broke, replaced by a concerned frown, “If there’s anything I can help with—”
“—No.” The word tumbled out of her mouth before she had given its tone a second thought. Noting the man’s surprise, she continued more gently, “It’s just some family trouble. My brother and I we . . . we’ve been moving from relative to relative. I’m worried,” she gulped, clutching the textbook to her chest, “they’re trying to take him away.”
All semblance of amusement vanished from his face. He released her shoulder, running his long fingers through his shock of jet black hair. “Oh . . . I see. Er, if there ever is anything I can do, feel free to ask.”
“Thanks, but I don’t need help from someone like you.” With that, she stood, grabbing her backpack and leaving her self-made sanctuary. What did Professor State know anyway? No one really cared about her, especially not some teacher she had met a few months ago. She and Spike were on their own, always had been and always would be.
Twilight twitched as the park clock struck ten. Eight hours. Eight hours of wandering around town looking for what she knew they’d never find. Her eyes fell to her brother curled soundly asleep against her chest like some kitten. If only he understood the gravity of the situation, but a four year old’s world consisted of only what he trusted and Spike trusted her explicitly.
Trust huh? She looked down at the large duffle bag at her feet. Its contents contained everything they considered worth taking from that place. The house, like so many of their “homes” served only as a staging point until they were passed like baggage to the next.
But Twilight had broken that cycle, and though their future was uncertain, they had each other. Still, that did not stop the reality that they had next to no money and no where to stay. Urgh! Where do I go now?
Her ears perked up at the sound of wavering foot steps. The next minute, she was met with the noxious stench of booze and cheap cologne. A balding old man staggered over to their bench, smirking predatorily. “Hey there, cutie. What’s a pretty thing like you doing out here, huh? Tell you what, how ‘bout I pay you some money and you come home with me?”
“Not interested,” she snarled, crumpling her nose as he leaned in. A part of her wanted to punch him, but being a bookworm, she doubted her hook would take him out. Spike shifted in his sleep, grumbling. “Leave us alone.”
“Aweee. Come on beautiful, I just wanna—”
It happened so fast, she hardly had time to register the sight of the man flying back into the pavement knocked out cold. Her eyes turned to stare at an almost frantic looking Professor State. “Are you alright, Twilight?”
“I uh—yes, yes I guess.” Taking a second look, she noted that he was still dressed in his school clothes. With his hair soaked and glasses removed, even she had to admit he was easy on the eyes. “Why are you here?”
“I’m looking for you obviously.” His gaze fell to Spike’s sleeping form and the duffle bag. “Illegal road trip I see . . .”
“Please, we’re doing them a favor. They don’t want us there anyway,” she mumbled under her breath.
Professor State knelt down on the concrete to stare unflinchingly back at her. “Listen to me, Twilight. Let me help you. Please. You can’t—you can’t do this alone. Think of Spike.”
Twilight gulped, fighting the lump in her throat. Was he serious? How could one theater teacher help them out? “What are you going to do?”
“I—”
“You’ll what?” She rounded on him, voice rising in a gradual crescendo, “Take us to child services? You think those bozo’s will keep Spike and me together? He needs me, dammit! You gonna give use some money like that scumbag there?” An almost manic laugh escaped her. “Or are you going to marry me and take care of both of us? I doubt it! Quit spouting nonsense. You’re just another hypocrite, like the rest of them.”
There was a pregnant silence punctuated only by Spike’s stirring. Then the professor drew out his glasses from a pocket, wiping them on his shirt. Placing them back on, he leaned down once more. The earlier surprise was replaced by a kind, gentle smile. “Alright.”
“Alright what?”
He placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll marry you.”
What? The blood rushed to her ears at the words. He can’t be serious. But, there was no denying the man’s focus. Could she trust him? Did she have a choice? “O-okay, I guess. But, is it legal?”
“You’re seventeen without parents. I’d say they’d allow it.” He got to his feet, jerking his head towards the street. “Come on, let’s put you two to bed. We’ll figure out the details in the morning.”
Before she could even ask, he had scooped Spike carefully in his arms and headed towards the parking lot with her trotting along beside him. Carefully, he set the child in the back of his old Outback and opened up the passenger door for her. “Ladies first.”
A little hesitantly, she slid inside, slamming the door. The pounding in her chest ebbed as they drove slowly along the well-lit streets. Professor State’s low humming was oddly soothing, and after a time, she finally relaxed. Strange as it was, she trusted him. “So . . .”
“Yes?”
“We’re-we’re going to be married.” She gulped, clenching her fists nervously against her jeans. Her eyes fell to the man’s well-muscled arms. “I . . . I don’t have any ‘experience’, you know? So, maybe you could hold off a bit, just till I’m comfortable.”
The car swerved into the other lane. Thankfully, the street was empty. Professor State turned to her, mouth ajar. “Twilight, you can’t think that I-I . . . that’s not my intent! I would never,” he gulped eyes flickering to her chest before focusing back on the road, “take advantage of you like that. You’re my student,” he mumbled.
“Yeah, and I suppose students marry their teachers on a regular basis, do they?”
“I . . .”
She giggled at his dumbfounded expression, elbowing him gently in the ribs. “Don’t worry about it, Professor. Something tells me I can trust you. But, you are kind of a freak.”
“Hey now! Freak is a matter of perspective, Twilight. And,” his voice softened, “you can call me Discord if you like.”
“Discord?”
He nodded as they turned into an older subdivision. “It’s a nickname. I rather prefer it.”
“Okay then.” Twilight watched Discord drive down a side street to the end of a cul de sac and stop at a small ranch house. They made their way to the front door, Discord carrying Spike. Stepping inside, he flickered on the light and she gasped.
The house’s interior looked like the strange love child of a library and a theater. Books lined the walls, both on shelves and in precarious piles, accented by the occasional set piece or ridiculously tacky costume. She followed him down the narrow walkway until they arrived at the small door. Opening it, they stepped inside a thankfully less cluttered guest room. Discord carefully set Spike on the bed, stroking back his sandy brown bangs. “There we go.”
Twilight smiled back at him, slipping off her brother’s shoes and tucking him neatly under the covers. The day’s events seemed to come crashing down on her at last and it was all she could to to remove her own shoes.
Discord’s voice behind her brought her back to reality. “Bathroom’s across the hall. I’ll be in my room if you need me.” His eyes drifted to her bag, “Do you have everything you need?”
“Yes, thank you,” she squeaked, avoiding his gaze and focusing instead on the various paintings stacked on top of an art table in the corner.
“There’s plenty of food in the kitchen if you’re hungry. Er,” he put his hands behind his back, “probably best not to eat the leftovers, just to be safe.”
She giggled. “Okay.”
Discord walked towards the door, pausing at the entrance. “Oh, and Twilight?”
“Yes?”
“We’ll go to City Hall in the morning then.”
Her heart skipped a beat. He’s really serious about this. “O-okay then.”
“Goodnight, Twilight.”
“Goodnight, Discord.”