It's the final year in school for Indigo and her friends. There are still a lot of challenges to face and she's prepared for all of them... except maybe finding love.
The happy days in high school will soon be over for the students of Crystal Prep. Soon, they'll part ways and choose their own paths. However, there's still some time left and Indigo Zap, Sugarcoat, Sunny Flare, Sour Sweet, and Lemon Zest will try to make the best out of it. Whether it's good or bad, they cherish every moment they spend together. Not only with each other, though – as the Friendship Games end, love looms at the horizon, coming from the most unlikely of places – Canterlot High.
The loud guitar riff pierced the air in the hall. The crowd cheered in response, jumping on the dancefloor and waving their hands in the air. Atmosphere seemed to heat up; several jackets and much more pairs of boots were scattered on the floor and comfortable couches surrounding the round tables scattered around the dancefloor.
The lyrics were hardly discernible in the crowded hall, but no one seemed to mind. The smell of sweat, perfume, smoke, and dust filled the air. With a noisy feedback, the guitar sound ceased, replaced by a quick, improvised bass solo. Then it exploded from the speakers again, nearly sending the nearest teens flying. The colours and sounds mixed in a loud crescendo, shaking the walls.
“Watch out for me!” the vocalist screamed into the microphone, accompanied by the drums banging an insane rhythm. “I’m awesome as I wanna be!” She slid the pick down the strings of her guitar, finishing the song.
“Woohoo!” Lemon Zest dropped on the couch and rubbed her feet. “Girls, you have to go with me!” She looked around. “Vinyl spiked the punch.”
“Who the hell is Vinyl?” Sugarcoat asked.
Lemon Zest pointed at the lanky girl with sunglasses standing slightly behind her and resting against the couch.
“Ah.” Sugarcoat poked her glasses. “You’re integrating.”
Lemon Zest nodded. “Come with me. And you too, Indigo! That’s, like, a lot of punch.”
Indigo, who was sitting on the couch with her face hidden in the shadow, rested her hands against the table. “You know I don’t drink.”
“Not even after the Friendship Games?”
“No.” Indigo stretched her limbs. “You and Sugarcoat may go. I’m gonna wait for Sunny and Sour Sweet… Wherever they are.”
“Follow the bloody footprints until you reach the dumpster,” Sugarcoat said. “There, you will find Sour Sweet. Or at least the body of someone she met.”
Indigo smirked, watching her friends walk away. She rested her back against the couch and sighed. After the whole incident with Twilight turning into a demon and tearing holes in time and space, no one was in the mood for Capture the Flag, but Indigo couldn’t really settle for such a simple thing as everyone being a winner. She’d already talked a few people into joining her for a violent match of dodgeball that’d solve the question of who was better once and for all. This would, however, be a matter of a few days, maybe a week.
Another song started, but Indigo wasn’t in a mood for dancing. She looked around, searching for something to drink, but there was nothing like that in sight. Aside from a spiked punch and that was the last thing she’d like to drink right now.
She saw some tall, muscular guy from Canterlot High walking near her table. With short, blonde hair and a golden earring he didn’t look very subtle, at least in comparison with people Indigo knew from her school. However, Indigo was very thirsty and he had to know the way to someplace where she could get water or something like that.
“Hey, dude!” she shouted.
“Yeah?” He turned back and lowered his gaze to look at Indigo.
“Hello,” she muttered, looking up to take a look at his face. “Do you know where I can get something to drink?”
The guy shrugged. “I think they had punch.”
“Yes, but… I’m not in the mood for it,” Indigo replied, standing up. Even then, she could barely reach the guy’s arm. Which was, she had to admit, quite muscular.
“Ah, okay,” he said. “There’s a vending machine here.” He walked through the crowd like an icebreaker. Indigo had nothing else to do except of drifting in his wake; she had to take three steps for each of his, so she was nearly running. This reminded her that she’d kicked off her shoes when she went dancing and she had no idea where they were.
Soon, they left the hall and walked down the empty school corridor. The lights were out, except of one flickering light bulb in the middle.
“Like in a horror movie, huh?” Indigo chuckled.
“Yeah.”
Indigo’s chuckle died down. “You’re not going to kill me, right?”
“No.”
“No, you’re not going to kill me, or no, you’re about to stuff me in the locker?” Indigo asked, shuddering slightly.
“I don’t kill people or anything.” The guy chuckled. “Even sassy girls from Crystal Prep.”
Indigo smirked. “Yeah, sure. By the way, my name’s Indigo Zap.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I’ve heard Twilight mentioning that. I’m Bulk.”
“Interesting name.” Indigo shrugged. “Umm… You know that I always thought all the guys from Canterlot High had bad hair and smoked weed?”
Bulk chuckled. “Nah, that’s only Sandalwood.”
They turned behind the corner and Indigo saw a vending machine. “There you are.” She smirked, checking her pockets for coins. “Aw, hell…”
“What’s going on?” Bulk asked.
“It seems that I’m out of money,” Indigo replied, resting her hand against the machine.
“Don’t worry.” Bulk handed her some coins.
“No, thanks.” Indigo backpedalled. “I couldn’t…”
“Really, it’s not a problem.” Bulk shrugged and put some coins in the machine. “That’s what friends are for.”
“Umm… yeah.” Indigo shrugged when Bulk gave her a can of soda. “Friendship Games and all. A propos, did I tell you that Sunny Flare once told me to keep quarters and dimes in one pocket and pennies and nickels in the other one?”
“Why so?” Bulk asked.
“So it’d be easier for me to keep balance. I’d just have to have even numbers of each coin.”
“Does zero count as an even number?” Bulk chuckled, grabbing another can of soda for himself.
“It seems so.” Indigo looked at her feet. “No shoes, no money… I’m in here for a day and look what happened to me.”
They heard someone running down the corridor. “Hey, Bulk, come here, quick!” some guy shouted. “Crystal Prep girls are dancing on the table!”
Indigo groaned, covering her face with her hand. “Well, at least I’m not dancing on the table.”
“Does it happen often in Crystal Prep?” Bulk shook his head. “I once broke a table that way…”
“We are a school with three hundred years of tradition,” Indigo replied. “I’m afraid table dancing is banned. You know, we only got theatre program twenty years ago and even then some people still think that the Crystal Prep founders turn in their graves because of that.”
“At least none of them started to haunt you.”
“Well, I guess they got really angry once we stopped stoning people for adultery, but that’s not something I’d say with the teachers around.” Indigo cleared her throat and spoke through gritted teeth, “The school heritage is not something you can make fun of.”
“Clearly,” Bulk muttered. “Can’t argue with all those noble guys.”
“Well, to be honest, they did encourage some rules breaking,” Indigo said. “Sunny would probably word it better, but they wanted people to get creative.”
“Like dancing on the table and losing your shoes?”
Indigo took a large gulp of her soda and looked at her feet. “Nah, that’d be too straightforward for them. Losing your shoes to gain a shoes factory seems more like their thing.”
Bulk raised his eyebrows. “How would that even work?”
Indigo shrugged. “I’ve never been a very good student. My dad was at Crystal Prep too and I really liked their sports facilities.”
“You’re into sports much?” Bulk asked.
Indigo flexed her muscles. It wasn’t much in comparison to Bulk, but it was still enough to be the pride of the Crystal Prep’s rowing team and become the top scorer of the last year’s football competition. “Oh yeah. I can bench-press Sugarcoat benchpressing a barbell and–”
“I’m mostly into knitting and playing a violin.” Bulk looked at his hands. “But I do sit at the gym most of the time.”
Indigo raised her eyebrows. “Knitting?”
“Long story.” Bulk looked down, putting his hand behind his head. “I’m also pretty good at embroidery.”
“Sunny Flare once tried to teach me sewing.” Indigo raised her hand to show a pale scar on her finger. “Good advice: never try to stitch your hand to anything.”
“That Sunny Flare doesn’t sound like someone you’d like to piss off…” Bulk nodded.
“Nah, I just put my fingers in the sewing machine without switching it off first.” Indigo shrugged. “Guess I kinda ignored that thing. It doesn’t exactly strike fear into your heart like a screaming circular saw.”
“Yeah.” Bulk nodded, downing his drink. “I saw you making that birdhouse. That was… a really nice birdhouse.”
Indigo smirked. “Thanks. I used to help my father with his boat. If the world is ever gonna be flooded, just come to me and remember of bringing two of each kind of beast.”
“What?”
“Nevermind.” Indigo crushed the can and threw it into the bin. “I really need to find my shoes.”
“Indigo!” someone called in a slightly slurred voice. “Where are you, the love of my heart? Come back here, moron, we need to get on the bus!”
“Sunny Flare?” Bulk chuckled.
“Worse,” Indigo replied. “It seems that Sour Sweet mixed her meds with something funny.”
“Does she do that often?”
“Luckily not,” Indigo replied. “When she does, she’ll cuddle you to death. Often literally. Or sometimes she’ll murder you and then apologise.”
“Not much of a consolation…” Bulk shook his head.
“Indigo? Where are you? I’m lonely and I need a cookie…”
“A cookie, huh?’ Bulk smirked.
“In this case, cookie means cookie.” Indigo rolled her eyes. “I guess I’ll have to go. Still without the shoes, though.” She sighed. “By the way, do you have any plans for vacation?”
“We’re going to some kinda camp.” Bulk shrugged. “Guess it’s gonna be pretty boring.”
“Dunno, I always liked camping.” Indigo looked down the corridor to see Sour Sweet walking to her, holding a pair of shoes in her hands. “What’s up?”
“Hello.” Sour Sweet stood in attention and smiled. “I found your shoes, my pretty. I’d keep them, but they smell!” She winced and threw the shoes at Indigo. “Put them on and we’ll go to the bus…” She made a walking gesture with her fingers. “And we’ll have a ride…” Her smile grew wider before she screamed, “We’ll all go to hell for that!”
“What’s wrong with her?” Bulk whispered, resting his back against the wall and trying in vain to walk through it.
“Wrong? She’s pretty fine now,” Indigo replied, putting on her shoes. “At least she’s not trying to kiss me.”
“That’s because there are boys around.” Sour Sweet staggered towards Indigo and rested her hand against the wall, smiling at Bulk. “Get out, creep. Indy and I have a lot of catching up to do.”
“Indy?” Bulk chuckled.
“Call me that and you’ll have to learn to knit with a prosthetic hand,” Indigo muttered, gently pushing Sour Sweet away. “And you… Don’t worry, I’ll keep Dean Cadance busy so she doesn’t notice how drunk you are.”
“That’s so cute of you…” Sour Sweet muttered. “Almost as cute as when my mom told my sisters to stop treating me as a punching bag because I already–”
“– killed one of them.” Indigo rolled her eyes and looked at Bulk. “Don’t worry dude. We once checked that story and she never killed any of her siblings. Her parents are shrinks, actually, and while she does have two brothers and two sisters, they’re pretty chill. Like, her sister Sweeten Sour is in Canterlot High, but she’d never tell you about that.”
Bulk scratched his head. “Ah, I know her. She’s a majorette or something, right?”
“Disgrace… I’d whack her with that stick of hers if I had a chance…” Sour Sweet muttered. “But of course I can’t since we’re the best of sisters…” Her smile caused Bulk to frown.
“By now, you need to sleep.” Indigo groaned. “Though I guess leaving you by your door, ringing the doorbell, and running away will be the best course of action.” She pulled Sour Sweet with her, joining the other Crystal Prep students, slowly walking towards the car park. Some of them were still talking with their new friends from Canterlot High. Bulk also walked with Indigo and Sour, ignoring the looks the latter was giving him.
“So… See you around,” Indigo said. “Have fun at the camp.”
“Thanks,” Bulk replied. “By the way, why don’t you join us? It’d be fun.”
“We already have plans,” Indigo replied, seeing her friends waiting for her by the bus. “Bye, Bulk.” She walked to the group, hauling Sour Sweet behind her.
“Hello, losers.” Sour Sweet raised her hand to greet Lemon, Sunny, and Sugarcoat. “Indy and I met a guy.”
“Yeah, but you creeped him out.” Indigo rolled her eyes. “As usual.”
“Well, I met a lot of guys.” Sugarcoat smirked, taking a seat in the bus. “Most of them were weird. How was yours?”
Indigo shrugged. “Dunno. Kinda nice?” She turned to Lemon Zest and pushed Sour Sweet at her. “You got her drunk, you deal with her,” she whispered.
“You’re no fun.” Lemon smiled when Sour Sweet hugged her. Still in an embrace, they sat on their seats.
Indigo didn’t listen to her. She looked through the window, watching as Canterlot High disappeared in the distance. She took off her shoes and rubbed her feet, sore after a whole day of competition and dancing. Soon, she fell asleep on her seat, rested against Sugarcoat’s arm.
The first half of summer vacation passed far too quick for Indigo’s tastes. The days were sunny, filled to the brim with sports, meeting her friends, and a trip to the mountains with her parents. Her muscles were still sore after days of hiking when she came back to the town, but that didn’t stop her from digging out her bike from the basement and going to meet Sunny Flare.
It seemed that summer weather and an excess of free time served Sunny well. She wore some new blue dress; or at least Indigo thought so, since she’d never seen that one before and given Sunny’s love for shopping, the dress was pretty likely to be new. Sunny was sitting on a bench in the park, reading something from the screens installed in her bracelets.
“Hello,” Indigo said as her bike skid to a halt. “What’s up?”
“The sun,” Sunny replied with a smirk. “Mom made a lot of money with that new tampon advertisement, so we went to Paris for a weekend. I got so much inspiration…”
“Sure,” Indigo muttered. “Your mom makes tampon ads now? That’s some blood money if you ask me…”
Sunny Flare rolled her eyes. “I said the same thing, but I stopped laughing when we landed in Paris. Also, Lemon’s mom feels better.”
“That’s good, I guess.” Indigo sat on the bench next to Sunny. “And how are Sour and Sugarcoat?”
“Sour Sweet called me yesterday in the middle of the night.” Sunny sighed. “Judging from the bad quality of the connection and her rambling about horses, she probably spends vacation on her uncle’s farm. Good thing we managed to shoot the music video before she left.”
Indigo raised her eyebrows. “Wait, what music video?”
“Just a little collaboration with those girls from Canterlot High,” Sunny replied. “We did some good dancing. I’ll show you later.”
“Interesting. I dance like a retarded elephant on drugs anyway,” Indigo said. “As for Sour, she’ll come back fat, hung over, and angry, right?” She shrugged. “Though I must admit, with her aunt’s cooking, everyone would get fat.”
“Totally,” Sunny replied. “As for Sugarcoat, I guess she sits in her little cave of spleen and flamboyant eroticism. When I asked her if she wanted something from Paris, she asked me for an original edition of Les fleurs du mal, so I guess she’s now learning the poems by heart.”
“Sounds… fun,” Indigo muttered. “To think about it, maybe we should get her out of her cave and watch some movie together? Something not involving flowers of evil.”
Sunny Flare nodded. “Sounds good to me. I’ll call Lemon, maybe she’ll want to go with us.”
“Sure.” Indigo produced the phone out of the pocket of her shorts. “I’ll call Sugarcoat then.” She scrolled down her list of contacts to find the one labelled as “Creepy Coatie” and tapped it with her finger.
After a few signals, she heard Sugarcoat’s voice. “Morgue, how can I help you?”
Indigo rolled her eyes. “That was much funnier the first time you did that. Sun grows, grass shines, birds bark, dogs sing, and I think it’s about time you move your ass and join us to enjoy such a beautiful day. How do you fancy that?”
“Sounds good to me,” Sugarcoat replied. “I found myself craving for interaction with you all. Where are we gonna meet?”
Indigo looked at Sunny Flare, who was talking with Lemon Zest over her phone. She only caught some bits of what she was talking about, but it was enough to learn the answer.
“By the youth centre,” Indigo said.
“Cool,” Sugarcoat muttered. “See you around.”
Indigo put the phone back in her pocket. “Okay,” she said. “Now we only have to get to the youth centre.” She hopped on her bike.
“Are you gonna leave me like that?” Sunny pointed at her dress and high heels. She had come to the park on foot, but there was no way she could keep up with Indigo’s bicycle.
“Well, you can always sit on the frame,” Indigo said. “It’s not the first time, after all.”
“Yeah, when we were ten!” Sunny exclaimed. “And if I recall correctly, I ended up in the ER with a bruised face. I still have a scar.”
“Well, scars are a part of a childhood,” Indigo replied. “Do you want to know where I have a scar? It was one hell of a climbing accident, but at least I had a soft landing.”
“That’s not a part of you I’d like to see,” Sunny deadpanned, standing up. “We can go there by foot.”
“You saw it. We shower together after the gym!” Indigo smirked. “Also, that’s gonna be so slow!”
Sunny blushed. “I don’t stare at you when we shower. To this day, I hoped you don’t either.”
Indigo chuckled. “You know I don’t swing that way. But you know, being a vegetarian doesn’t mean you can’t take a look at the menu.” She kicked the pedals of her bike. “See you at the youth centre!”
“Your father was also in such a hurry and look into the mirror to see what happened,” Sunny muttered under her breath, trying to chase her. Soon, it proved hopeless; she could technically walk faster in high heels, but that’d mean quite an undignified way of walking and she couldn’t let that happen. She just sighed and gritted her teeth, watching Indigo disappearing in the distance.
Indigo pushed the brakes of her bike, making it spin on the pavement before stopping by the wall of the youth centre. She attached it to a bicycle stand with a padlock and looked around. Sunny, Sugarcoat, and Lemon Zest were nowhere to be seen. Instead, the whole place was filled with Canterlot High students, carrying musical instruments or dressed in weird garments.
“Is there anyone in this school who doesn’t play anything?” Indigo muttered to herself, looking at two young guys. One of them was holding a skull.
“To be, or not to be…” he exclaimed in the most dramatic fashion. However, his monologue was quickly interrupted by a green girl with short, dark hair and red earrings. She yanked the skull out of his hands.
“How many more times do I have to remind you it’s not this monologue, thou cream-faced loon?” she exclaimed, rolling her eyes, and lifted the skull. “Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him well, Horatio, a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy.” She turned to Indigo, put her hand on her arm and looked her in the eyes. “Maybe you’d relieve me from those two fools? My name’s Sophisticata and I could really use a new Guildenstern…”
Indigo backpedalled, looking at Sophisticata unsurely. “I dunno, I was never much into figure skating…”
Sophisticata covered her face with her hands. “Guildenstern, not Rittberger…” She sighed. “But of course, what could I expect from a Crystal Prep student…”
“You can tell that without a uniform?” Indigo raised her eyebrows.
“Of course! You walk differently, as if you still had the uniform. Blocked arms, tight ass...”
“Yeah, sure.” Indigo turned back to walk as far away from Sophisticata as possible. Unfortunately, she bumped into some grey girl, causing them both to fall on the ground.
“Hey, you, with a big violin, watch out!” Indigo exclaimed.
“It’s a cello, you chav.” The girl stood up and picked her case. Her friend, who was carrying some sort of a big trumpet, looked down on Indigo and walked away. While getting up, Indigo saw Bulk standing nearby with a violin case in his hands. She smiled and waved at him, but he disappeared in the crowd when the two girls joined him.
“Oh, come on, dude,” Indigo muttered. She sneaked through the crowd, into the youth centre. It was rather easy to spot Bulk – he was much taller than anyone else around him. Indigo followed him down the corridor leading to a large concert hall. It was well-lit, with seats forming a half-circle surrounding the stage in the middle.
Indigo looked around, but she couldn’t see Bulk anywhere. She sat on one of the seats, next to a green-haired girl wearing a red beret and sketching something on a piece of paper.
“Hello,” Indigo said. The girl didn’t reply, completely focused on her pencil. Indigo shrugged and looked down at the stage.
There weren’t many things happening at the moment. Some guy was carefully positioning a timpani while a yellow-skinned girl in a white dress was trying various passages on the piano. Indigo thought that it’d probably be easier if her green friend wasn’t lying on the instrument, waving her legs and looking into the pianist’s eyes.
Indigo realised that she’d seen both of them before. They took part in the Friendship Games, though judging from their endless quips about big tools and complete disregard of workplace safety rules, they didn’t take it very seriously. And somehow their birdhouse had even weirder design than the one Sunny and Sour Sweet built.
Still, it was enough for Indigo to assume that she knew them well enough to talk. She walked down and climbed on the stage. The girl at the piano hit the keys, ending the arpeggio with a dramatic pause when Indigo approached her. Meanwhile, the girl on the piano turned towards Indigo and smiled.
“Hi,” Indigo said. “I’m looking for a friend.”
The girls looked at each other.
“Well, we are friends with everyone,” the green one said. “But you have to have quick fingers. To play piano, that is.” She chuckled and played a short, upbeat snippet on the piano – despite seeing the keys upside down.
“Dammit, Lyra.” The pianist shook her head.
“Well, I only play the electric triangle,” Indigo replied. “And you should know my friend. He’s big and muscular, has an earring and usually speaks rather loudly.”
“Triangles? Best things come in threes.” Lyra smirked. “Bonnie can’t get it.”
“Lyra, she’s looking for Bulk.” Bonnie groaned. “And get off my piano.” She turned to Indigo. “Bulk should be here soon, with the rest of the strings.”
“Well, she can be open-minded.” Lyra sat on the piano and shrugged. “Will you come to us sometime? None of our friends can play the clarinet.”
“Sorry to hear that,” Indigo replied. “Are you in some band or something?”
“Well, my ambition is a free jazz ensemble,” Bonnie said. “Though I’m no stranger to nu jazz. We have a good bassist, a DJ, a saxophone and sousaphone players, but sadly, most of our school prefers rock and other lesser genres. Or classical music at best.”
“Yes,” Indigo muttered. “What is a sousaphone?”
“This big trumpet.” Lyra pointed at the girl who just entered the stage. Indigo recognised her as the companion of the cellist she’d bumped into earlier. “Watch out for her, by the way. She’s sending all the mixed signals.”
“That’s what you think,” Bonnie said.
Indigo stopped listening to them as she saw Bulk getting on the stage, followed by the black-haired cellist. She walked across the platform to them.
When Bulk saw her, he raised his eyebrows. “Indigo? What are you doing here?”
“I…” Indigo shrugged. ‘Well, I just wanted to say hello. How was the camp?”
“Pretty cool.” Bulk looked at the girl with a cello, who was eyeing Indigo curiously. “Listen, we have a rehearsal soon, but we can hang out after it ends, okay?”
“Aww…” Indigo replied. “I was going to go to the cinema with my friends.”
Bulk’s smile faded. “Too bad. We should meet sometime.”
“Well, we live in the 21st century,” Indigo replied. “Does anyone have a pen?”
“I have,” the girl with a sousaphone said, raising her hand. Indigo grabbed the pen and wrote her phone number on the top of Bulk’s sheet music.
“Call me later.” She saluted and walked up the stairs, to the place where she spotted Sunny Flare standing with Sugarcoat and Lemon Zest, watching the spectacle.
“We were just wondering what you were doing,” Sunny Flare said when Indigo reached them.
“A fool of yourself, as usual,” Sugarcoat muttered. She was resting her back against the wall, hardly interested in what was going on.
“Oh, please.” Lemon patted Indigo’s back. “Don’t you see she found her true love?”
“Shut up, Lemon,” Indigo replied. “He’s just a friend.”
“Sure.” Lemon chuckled. “I know such friendships. I had few ‘friends’ like that before.”
“Yeah, because you’re the one to talk.” Indigo raised her hands. “You’re totally an expert.”
“Indigo’s kinda right,” Sugarcoat said. “Your longest relationship lasted for a week until the guy realised how many issues hide behind that cute face. And it was only because he was kinda slow.” She turned to Indigo. “As for Indigo, the closest she was to being in a relationship was kissing Neon Lights in the fifth grade. And then throwing up.”
Indigo groaned. “Can you stop reminding me of the worst parts of my life?”
“No.”
“Serves you right,” Sunny Flare said. “You were kinda an ass when you left me in the park.”
“Shouldn’t have worn the high heels,” Indigo muttered. “Also, Neon probably never heard of toothpaste.”
“What movie are we gonna watch?” Lemon Zest asked.
“If we’re going to watch Dawn of the Undead Sharks 3D again, I’m gonna pass,” Sugarcoat muttered.
“Why’d we watch the same movie twice?” Indigo asked. “I don’t even know what’s in the cinema now. Sunny?”
Sunny Flare clicked some button on her bracelets. “Voodoo and The Art of Guitar Tuning, Earth and Us, All About the Fridge, Waterproof Fire, and Mesquito the BBQ Bug.”
“Mesquito?” Lemon Zest’s face lit up.
Indigo raised her eyebrows. “Aren’t you a little too old for cartoons?”
Sugarcoat blushed. “Actually… I wanted to see this movie too.”
Indigo groaned. “Earth and Us?”
“Not this pseudo-intellectual drivel…” Sunny Flare rolled her eyes. “All About the Fridge is way better.”
"If you say you know what that movie means, you're a liar, because it doesn't mean anything," Sugarcoat muttered.
“I drank a bottle of wine before seeing it,” Sunny Flare replied. “And then another one afterwards.”
“And you discovered its meaning while hugging the toilet and watching your dinner coming back.” Sugarcoat let out a small chuckle. “That’s what your interpretation of this movie is worth.”
“So, Mesquito?” Lemon Zest asked.
“Yes,” Indigo replied. “Mainly because it’s Summer and I don’t want to overheat my brain trying to discover my true self in the cinema. I know that it’s hideous, even without looking.”
Sunny Flare groaned. “Okay. But next time I’m choosing the movie.”
“Yeah, if we let you.” Indigo grabbed the handlebars of her bicycle. “Last one at the cinema buys the popcorn!”
Indigo closed the door of her house and walked into the living room. She saw her father lying on a training bench and lifting dumbbells. Smiling, she walked to him and sat on the couch nearby.
“Hi, dad,” she said. “Is mom home?”
Indigo’s father put the dumbbells on the floor. “She’ll be back from Lightning Dust tomorrow, remember?” he replied.
Indigo nodded, a little sigh escaping her lips. “Training chest muscles?” she asked, pointing at the dumbbells. “Not bad.”
“Gotta keep in shape,” Indigo’s father said, looking at his large arms. “So, how was your day?”
“We went to the cinema with the girls,” Indigo replied, yawning. “In fact, I’m pretty tired. I guess I’m gonna take a short nap.” She stood up and walked towards the stairs.
“Okay.” Indigo’s father grabbed the dumbbells. “I’m going to meet uncle Magnum later.”
“Sure thing.” Indigo smirked at the idea. Magnum wasn’t her real uncle; he was her father’s friend from the football team and they still kept in touch after retiring, much to their wives’ annoyance. Indigo once heard that uncle Magnum’s daughter Sweetie Belle learned quite an interesting vocabulary after she heard them commenting on a game.
She walked to her room and lay on her bed, her eyes half-closed. She focused on the posters of various punk rock bands covering the wall in front of her, waiting for them to blur and fade as her mind drifted away.
Indigo wasn’t sure how much time passed, but suddenly she was awoken with a loud guitar riff coming from her phone. She turned in her bed and saw it lying on the nightstand. The number on the display was unknown to her, but she picked it up anyway.
“Umm… hello.” The voice sounded familiar, though she was sure it was usually louder.
“Bulk?” Indigo asked groggily.
“Yeah,” Bulk replied. “Were you asleep? I’m sorry…”
“No, of course not,” Indigo sat on her bed and ran her hand down her hair. “How was the rehearsal?”
“Pretty good,” Bulk said. “Though I guess Octavia won’t forgive you for calling her cello a big violin…”
“I got that impression.” Indigo chuckled. “Do you think she sleeps with it?”
Bulk laughed. “I didn’t need that mental image…”
“Yeah, screw it,” Indigo said. “How was the camp?”
“Cool,” Bulk replied. “Except that one day when the camp director turned into a demon and tried to trap everyone behind a wall of vines and stuff.”
Indigo raised her eyebrows. “Is that some kind of a Canterlot High tradition? Do you make bets on who turns into a demon next time?”
“No, it only happened three times so far,” Bulk replied. “And once it was a girl from Crystal Prep.”
“Technical details,” Indigo said. “How it turned out in the end? I’m guessing you defeated her somehow?”
“How do you know?” Bulk asked.
“You can talk with me, so I assume you got out of the camp, somehow.” Indigo smiled and shook her head.
“Well, Sunset Shimmer and her friends defeated her, she went back to normal and we saved the camp,” Bulk replied. “Oh, and I think her brother now dates Twilight Sparkle.”
Indigo nearly choked. She gasped for breath for a while, nearly dropping her phone.
“Are you okay?” Bulk asked.
“Yes,” Indigo replied. “I just… I can hardly imagine Twilight dating anyone. She never seemed interested in boys. Ditto for the girls.”
“Maybe you were just giving her a hard time?” Bulk asked.
“Ummm…” Indigo put her hand behind her head. “Well, it’s not like boys in Crystal Prep are anything special. If you try to talk with them about anything else but learning or whose father is more important, they suddenly lose the whole charm.”
“Well, my whole family are lumberjacks,” Bulk replied. “Not much to talk about.”
“I guess so,” Indigo said, rubbing her sore hand. She then quickly put the phone in the second one. “My father used to play football, but now he’s only doing the business stuff.”
“Wait, Lightning Zap is your father?” Bulk asked. “I remember him! He was the best.”
Indigo chuckled, blushing.
“I’m sorry,” Bulk muttered. “You probably hear that a lot.”
Indigo shrugged. “Not really. The guys in my school aren’t into football much. I prefer rowing, myself. And I never really paid attention back when he was playing. Maybe my sister...”
“You have a sister?”
Indigo sighed. “Yeah… She’s much older and we’ve never been very close. She doesn’t live with us either.”
“Ah.” There was a brief pause before Bulk spoke again. “We must meet one day…”
“With my sister?” Indigo asked. “Unlikely.”
“No, I meant…” Bulk spoke quickly, as if he was afraid that courage would leave him. “We’re gonna have a movie night at Sandalwood’s house this weekend. If… If you’d like to hang out…”
Indigo put the phone on her nightstand and turned in her bed. Everything went blurry and soon faded.
Lightning Dust stretched her limbs and looked at the TAR-21 hanging from her neck. Or at least Indigo thought it was TAR-21 – she hardly knew anything about guns and every single bullpup assault rifle in the world could be TAR-21 for her.
Indigo looked around. They were standing on the roof of some building made of sandstone in the middle of a town consisting mostly of clay huts and palm trees casting shadows on dusty streets. Lightning was wearing combat trousers and a tank top, revealing the burn marks covering her left arm most of her back and part of the neck.
“What’s going on?” Indigo asked.
Lightning Dust didn’t reply, instead handing two guns to Indigo. “You’d better take them,” she said. “This place is not safe.”
“I thought you were in jail,” Indigo muttered, twirling one of the guns and hiding it in the holster attached to her belt.
“I was released,” Lightning replied. “We’re on a super secret mission from the government, remember?”
“Yeah, that rings a bell,” Indigo muttered, scratching her head with the barrel of the second gun. “But what am I doing here?”
Before Lightning Dust could reply, one of the huts behind her exploded. She quickly spun, clicking on the safety of her rifle and firing a short burst in the direction of the fire. Indigo drew the guns and jumped off the roof, somersaulting in mid-air. She raised her arms, suddenly finding herself surrounded by three silhouettes in white robes.
Indigo pulled the triggers of both guns. The smoke and dust blinded her, but she saw one of the assailants falling back, his clothes stained red. She turned, hitting the other attacker in the temple with the handle of her gun, while shooting the third guy with the other one. She darted forward, firing whenever she saw someone moving.
Suddenly, a large man stood in her path, holding a sabre. Indigo fired at him, but his arms moved rapidly and the bullet bounced off his blade. He spun the weapon, deflecting a few more rounds.
“Damn,” Indigo muttered. She jumped and spun in mid-air, landing a kick on the face of her opponent. He staggered, but withstood the attack, raising the sabre.
Indigo landed smoothly on the ground. She saw the blade approaching her in slow motion, so she dropped the gun and caught it with her bare hand. The eyes of the man widened, nearly taking over his moustache. Indigo heard a couple of shots and the man collapsed in front of her, revealing Lightning Dust standing behind him with a smoking rifle.
“Let’s go,” she said, pointing at the door to the nearby house.
The interior was dark and almost empty. The only thing was a small table standing in the middle of the room. There was a mobile phone lying on and ringing.
“Pick it up,” Lightning Dust said. Indigo obeyed, wondering what was going on.
“Hi, Indigo! What are you doing?”
“Lemon Zest!” Indigo’s eyes shot open and she realised that she was lying in her bed. The sky behind the window was dark and she realised that she had been asleep for quite a while.
“Hey, no need to shout,” Lemon muttered. “What’s up?”
“I was sleeping,” Indigo replied. “And I guess I’m gonna grab something to eat and then go back to sleep again.”
It wasn’t that easy to get rid of Lemon Zest, though. “How about that guy?” she asked.
“Which guy?”
“You know which one,” Lemon replied. “You know, the Saddle Rager with a violin.”
“Ah, this one.” Indigo scratched her head. “He called. If I didn’t dream this up, he wanted to hang out with me.”
“Oooh!” Lemon exclaimed. “That’s so cool! You and him are, like–”
Indigo sighed. “Calm your tits, Lemon. Don’t you have, like, better things to do? Like sleeping?”
“I can’t sleep.” Lemon’s voice faltered. “That’s why I called.”
“Why don’t you call Sugarcoat?” Indigo asked. “She could read you something boring.”
“I did,” Lemon replied. “She told me to find some other idiot to talk to.”
Indigo sighed. “And you called me?”
“Yes.”
“If something’s wrong, you’d better consult someone who actually knows what they’re talking about,” Indigo said. “How’s your mother?”
“I told you she’s fine,” Lemon replied.
“So it’s about you then, right?” Indigo asked, standing up from her bed. “Nightmares or some other stuff?”
“Nah, I just can’t fall asleep.” Lemon’s voice sped up. “I think it’s too early for me. Like, I’d go out and do something, but no one else wants to go or I’d–”
“Dammit, Lemon,” Indigo muttered. “I thought it was something serious. Go and play computer games, or chat with any of your three thousand friends on various social media sites. Goodnight.” She put the phone down and went to the kitchen. A peanut butter, banana, and bacon sandwich later, she went to the bathroom to take a shower and brush her teeth. Soon, she was asleep again.
A big, brown rat picked up a breadcrumb and looked at Indigo, who shuddered, when another rat, white with red eyes, climbed on her shoulders. She tried to shake it off, but the creature hardly cared about her efforts, running on the top of her head.
“What have I gotten myself into?” she muttered.
It all looked so well. She called Bulk one day after a training and, after a lengthy conversation, she agreed to visit his friends with him. Little did she know that among his friends there was a guy with green dreadlocks who had a poster of something called Ska-P in his room, right next to a graffiti depicting the globe. Several rats walked around the room freely, though a large cage standing in the corner, indicated that they were, indeed, pets. Interestingly, he also had a cat, who, however, wasn’t interested in the rodents at all, preferring to sleep on the conga drums standing in the corner.
According to Bulk, the host of the whole place was called Sandalwood. He was currently sitting on a chair, watching Indigo’s struggle with the rats.
“So, you’re Bulk’s new friend, right?” Sandalwood asked. “Interesting. Very interesting.”
Indigo just wanted to ask what was interesting, but the rat just jumped off her head and ran across the carpet. She watched it until it climbed on the chest of drawers and disappeared in one of them.
“Don’t worry,” Bulk said. “He’s never seen a Crystal Prep girl that close before.”
“I did,” Sandalwood replied. “I’ve never seen a Crystal Prep girl with a rat on her head, though.”
“Yeah…” Indigo muttered. “Do they have any names?”
Sandalwood raised his hand. “Cheech, Chong, Julian, Ricky, and Bubbles,” he said.
“Ah, of course.” Indigo chuckled, turning to Bulk and Sandalwood. “So, what are we gonna do?”
Sandalwood scratched his dreadlocks and looked at Bulk. “Well, I have Drawn Together on DVD, but we wouldn’t want to scare the uptown girl.”
“Should I burp so he stops thinking I’m a snob?” Indigo asked.
“Fat chance,” Bulk replied. “He thinks everyone in Crystal Prep is a filthy capitalist. You know, we gathered in his house because his parents chained themselves to the trees in the jungle.”
Indigo shrugged, staring at another rat standing on its hind legs and sniffing the air. “Maybe we’ll play Twister, or something?”
“It’s not a girls’ night,” Sandalwood replied. “Also, you really don’t want to play Twister with Bulk. If you really like your ribs, that is.”
Indigo nodded, smiling at her imagination. She was interrupted when someone knocked on the door.
“Come in!” Sandalwood yelled. They heard the click of the door opening and another guy entered the room. He had blue hair and wore a leather jacket which he put on the couch before taking a seat next to it.
“Hello, Flash,” Bulk said. “This is my friend, Indigo.”
“Hi.” Flash smiled at Indigo. “You kinda look familiar… Are you that girl from Crystal Prep?”
Indigo raised her eyebrows. “Which one?”
“Umm…” Flash scratched his head. “The one who was a friend of that girl Twilight knew… You know, that one.”
“Dude, we have, like, no idea what are you talking about,” Sandalwood muttered. “But yeah, I’d like to hear the whole story.” He shrugged. “Seems to be hormones raging this summer, since I also saw Twilight going out with Timber…”
“Who?” Indigo asked.
“Umm…” Bulk looked around. “What hormones? We just talked to each other two or three times…”
“Four,” Indigo muttered.
“Four?” Bulk furrowed his eyebrows. “Well, you were almost asleep once, so I’m not sure if that counts.”
“That definitely counts,” Indigo replied. “That was after I gave you my phone number.”
Flash and Sandalwood looked at each other. “See? Already like an old married couple.” Sandalwood chuckled.
Indigo blushed, glaring daggers at Sandalwood. “Shut up,” she muttered. “Or rather, tell me about this Timber guy you’ve mentioned. Twilight and a guy? I mean, a real dude?”
“Totally,” Sandalwood replied. “Tall, slim, carries an axe, can do funny stuff with pasta and those abs…”
“I have good abs too,” Bulk muttered.
Sandalwood ignored that. “Also, his sister turned into a demon, but you already know that.”
“I fear to imagine their children…” Indigo chuckled. “Where have you seen them?”
“In the mall,” Sandalwood replied. “Which reminds me: some crazy bitch turned into a demon in the mall recently. I even took a photo because I was like, ‘hey, she looks kinda like my little cousin Juniper’. And guess what?” He smirked. “That was my cousin Juniper. She changed a bit since I was eleven and she was thirteen, and we hid in one of those helicopters from Apocalypse Now and–”
“What the hell…” Indigo muttered.
“I didn’t quite reach the village, but I hit the nearby jungle, if you know what I mean,” Sandalwood said. “Best five seconds of my life.”
“Enough!” Flash exclaimed. “Bulk brought a girl here and it already turned into a gossip-slash-nauseating stories society…”
“If I wasn’t here, you’d already start comparing your abs,” Indigo muttered and looked at Sandalwood. “Or helicopters. Also, since you all have no idea what to do except watching rats, we can always judge other people.”
“What if we went bowling?” Bulk asked. He shrugged when everyone looked at him. “I mean, it’s better to judge other people when there are more of them.”
“He does have a point,” Indigo said. “Also, I haven’t been in the bowling alley since that one time when Sour Sweet took a ball and–”
“We can take my car.” Sandalwood stood up. Indigo was pretty sure one of the rats hid in his hair. “It works.”
“Is that unusual?” Indigo asked. “Most of cars work.”
“It’s not a car, it’s a glorified pile of rust and duct tape,” Flash muttered.
“Don’t mind him, he’s salty because Twilights of the whole multiverse don’t want to be with him.” Sandalwood chuckled. “C’mon, dude. Let’s go bowling.”
The car standing in Sandalwood’s garage turned out to be a Volkswagen Transporter from the late fifties. It’s original colour was unknown; currently, it was consisting mostly of rust with some remains of flamboyant paintjob from the sixties here and there, giving it an appearance of a rat rod. The interior consisted of a couple of bomber seats and was filled with some herbal smell.
“What’s that?” Indigo sat in one of the seats and sniffed the air.
“Don’t mind it,” Sandalwood muttered. “We can’t get rid of this smell since my grandparents smoked weed in here during the Woodstock Festival.”
“Fighting fire with fire doesn’t exactly help,” Bulk muttered, trying to fit in the small seat. Sandalwood started the engine which woke up with a terrible screech. Soon it started to work more evenly and they left the garage. Indigo noticed that there was a small hole in the floor, so she spent most of the way to the bowling alley watching the road under them.
Soon, they parked in front of the bowling alley. It was filled with people; it was one of the last weekends before the school year and many teenagers wanted to get their bowling fix before having to come back to learning.
“Hi, Apple Bloom,” Flash said to a red-haired girl standing by the door. She didn’t notice him, completely focused on her phone.
“Babs?” she asked. “It’s your cousin Apple Bloom. Let’s go–”
Indigo didn’t hear the rest since she bumped into some lanky man with a goatee, wearing a purple outfit. He gave her a heavy glare, but quickly disappeared in the crowd when he saw Bulk.
They walked into the bowling alley, stopping by the row of pool tables and the bar, swarmed by people talking, drinking milkshakes, or just playing pool. The lanes were nearby, but Flash looked around, his expression faltering.
“What’s going on?” Indigo asked.
“Look who’s back…” Flash muttered.
“Mr. Letrotski?” Bulk looked at the three men sitting at the table by the wall.
“Not here, there.” Flash pointed at one of the lanes. Indigo saw a tall boy wearing a bright orange blazer and a green beanie. He was surrounded by a couple of girls; they were laughing loudly at something.
“Yeah.” Bulk groaned. “Norman.”
“Who’s he?” Indigo asked, watching as one of the girls—short one with green skin and purple hair tied in two ponytails—threw a bowling ball down the lane. It fell into the channel halfway through, prompting another burst of laughter from the group.
“Well, Flash, you were, like, a bit imprecise,” Sandalwood muttered. “It’s Norman, Cloudy Kicks, Starlight, Paisley, and Rose Heart.” He smirked. “Or as I call them, Ms. Norman number one, three, seven, and twenty one.”
“Twenty one?” Indigo chuckled. “Blackjack.”
“Mhm.” Sandalwood looked at the very tall, skinny girl with blue hair, wearing the blue outfit of the staff, who walked past the group. Norman turned his head towards her and nodded. “Ms. Norman number twenty seven. Though she doesn’t know about it yet.”
“How come they didn’t kill him yet?” Indigo asked.
Bulk shrugged. “Dunno, they just swarm around him, somehow. And he’s the best at bowling.”
“Yeah, and there are no free lanes anyway,” Flash muttered.
“The best at bowling, you say…” Indigo smirked. “Let’s see.” She walked towards the group of girls, currently gathered around the guy.
“One’s fun to hit with a sledgehammer and the other is a watermelon!” The blonde girl known as Cloudy Kicks rested herself against the couch and laughed.
Indigo cleared her throat. “Hello, ladies!” She focused her eyes on Norman. “And you.” She pushed the red-haired girl away and sat on the small table standing in front of the couch. “As you can see there are no free lanes and me and my friends wanted to play.” She pointed at Bulk, Flash, and Sandalwood who were walking towards them slowly, trying to look as if they didn’t know her.
“So?” Norman asked.
“So, I figured out since you guys are busy telling corny jokes, maybe you could let us roll?” Indigo winked, crossing her legs.
Norman’s gaze moved from her to Bulk, Flash, and Sandalwood. “Why do you bother with those losers? You can stay with us, you know.”
Indigo’s eyes narrowed. “I’d rather not be Ms. Norman number sixteen, or something.”
“Twenty seven,” Sandalwood muttered.
“Yeah, sure.” Indigo chuckled. “I wonder if his bowling skills are as exaggerated as this number. I guess it’s the same kind of urban legend as The Licked Hand or ponies from another dimension...”
Norman blushed. “We can always check that.” He walked to the lane and grabbed a bowling ball. He smirked and threw it down the lane, knocking over all the ten pins.
“Your turn,” he said.
Indigo nodded and walked to the lane. She grabbed a bowling ball, weighing it in her hand. “Am I holding it right?” she asked, her hands trembling slightly. She walked towards the lane and threw the ball. “Whoops…” she muttered.
The ball rolled down the lane, heading towards the channel. However, somewhere halfway through it turned, hitting between the first and third pin, knocking them all down.
“Not bad,” Norman muttered, approaching Indigo. “But I guess that still makes a draw…”
Indigo froze, feeling his hand on her butt.
The girl from the staff had long, blue hair and was so tall that Indigo had to raise her head to see anything above her chest, adorned with a tag saying “Allie Way”. Currently, she was staring down at Indigo, as well as the group of girls, swarmed around somebody lying on the floor.
“So, what exactly happened?” she asked.
Indigo shrugged. “I think my friend knocked himself out with a bowling ball. Dunno, this never happened to him before.”
“Yeah,” Sandalwood muttered. “This is, like, what happens when you accidentally hit yourself in the nuts and then raise your hands to your face while still holding the ball, right guys?” He turned to Flash and Bulk, who nodded quickly.
“He was always kinda clumsy…” Bulk said.
“That’s not what happened!” a pale girl Sandalwood had introduced as Paisley exclaimed.
“Well, that’s strange,” Allie said. “Because that’s what I saw happening. Also, shouldn’t you take him to the doctor or something?”
After the girls dragged Norman outside, Allie turned towards Indigo, Bulk, Flash, and Sandalwood.
“You can play on the house today,” she said. “But if I see any of you hitting people with bowling balls again, I won’t let you in again.”
“Yeah,” Indigo muttered. “By the way, Sour Sweet asked if you’re still angry at her.”
“She’s still on our ‘Don’t Let In’ list, if that’s what you mean,” Allie replied. “Have fun.”
“Thanks.” Indigo turned towards her companions. “What are you waiting for? Let’s play!”
Lemon Zest shuddered, looking at the envelope lying on the seat next to her and the posters on the walls in the waiting room. She knew them by heart; they mostly informed about benefits of vaccines against flu or that smoking was bad. She sighed, staring at the dull green walls, when she heard the sound of her ringtone. She picked it up.
“Indigo?” She smiled. “What’s up?”
“Cool,” Indigo replied. “We went bowling with Bulk and his friends.”
Lemon relaxed, stretching her legs. “How was it?”
“I won. I also beat up some guy, and then we had chicken. Well, except Sandalwood, because he thinks meat is murder. You know, that kinda guy who drives a rusty van and keeps pet rats in his hair.”
Lemon chuckled. “I think I met him. And what happened then?”
“Sandalwood drove us to my house, Bulk walked to the door with me and–”
“And what?” Lemon nearly fell off her seat.
“Nothing,” Indigo replied. “I said goodbye and went home.”
Lemon scratched her hair. “So, let me get this straight: you went out with two guys–”
“Three.”
“Nevermind.” Lemon rested her forehead against her hand. “You went bowling, you punched someone, you ate chicken… Did you burp?”
“Umm… What does it have to do with anything?” Indigo asked. “Maybe a little. Bulk can burp louder.”
Lemon furrowed her eyebrows. “What did you talk about?”
“Movies, sports, Sandalwood not eating chicken…” Indigo paused. “Where are you going with that?”
“That’s bad,” Lemon muttered. “That’s so, so bad…”
“Why is it bad?” Indigo’s voice faltered.
Lemon groaned. “How are you two going to date if he now considers you one of the guys?”
For a while, all she could hear was choking, which soon changed into a fit of coughing. After a minute, Indigo eventually spat out, “What? Lemon Zest, did those blood checks you were gonna have show that you have lemon ice cream instead of brain? We’re not dating.”
“But you may!” Lemon exclaimed. “And I haven’t opened the results yet. But don’t worry, come to me and Sunny, we’ll work on you.”
“With a pair of pliers and a blowtorch?”
“Pliers, yes. But blowtorch?” Lemon shrugged. “Only in extreme cases.”
Indigo sighed. “That was a joke. You’d better open that damn envelope and don’t worry about me. See you later.”
“Later.” Lemon put the phone down and grabbed the envelope. Her muscles tensed as she slowly opened it.
Indigo took a deep breath, resting her hands against a tree and stretching her muscles. She looked at her phone to see that she’d ran about six kilometres in forty minutes. Her sport bra was drenched in sweat; Indigo wiped her forehead with an armband and took a sip of water.
She looked around. The workout brought her to a remote part of the park, where a sandy path was disappearing between the trees. There was a road nearby; she could hear the cars passing by. The sky was red, but Indigo didn’t care. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d run back home in the dark.
She looked back at her path and shrugged. She rarely ever chose the same way to get back home, but the only alternative seemed to be the side of the road and Indigo didn’t like the perspective of being hit by a car and left in the ditch to die. Nevertheless, she walked across the grove of trees and looked around. The road was almost empty and, as far as Indigo remembered, it’d soon lead her to the district filled with small, cosy houses inhabited by old widows and jaded hipsters.
Indigo put on her headphones and started to run. The music blasted in her ears, becoming one with her heartbeat. She sped up, feeling a pleasant pain in her muscles.
Suddenly, a sound of a car horn found its way through the layer of drums assaulting Indigo’s ears. She saluted the driver with her middle finger and continued to run. It wasn’t long before the black SUV caught up with her, the driver waving at her.
“What?” Indigo exclaimed, looking into the car. She slowed down before stopping completely. “Sunny Flare? Since when are you driving a car? And how did you find me?”
“Mom doesn’t know that I took it.” Sunny Flare looked at her bracelets. “Also, I hacked the satellites to be able to watch you all the time from outer space.”
“Is that legal?” Indigo asked.
“No, but actually I just checked the internet. You know your phone posts your training results to all the social media? Complete with a handy map.”
“Damn.” Indigo shook her head. “But why are you stalking me instead of doing something useful? Like, preparing a new school uniform?”
“About that,” Sunny said. “Lemon Zest called me and said that a certain guy is on your mind, but unfortunately he now considers you one of the boys.”
Indigo shook her head and smacked her hand against her forehead. “And you believed her?”
“Well, if you want it to be serious, a little change won’t hurt,” Sunny said.
“I don’t want it to be nothing,” Indigo muttered.
“So you want it to be something?”
Indigo groaned and started to run. She heard the engine of Sunny’s car roaring and saw her friend catching up with her again.
“What?” Indigo asked.
“You’re running away from me again,” Sunny said. “Maybe I’ll at least drive you home?”
“I’d rather run, thank you. You drive like a kamikaze.” Indigo turned between the trees. Running through the bushes was hard, but at least Sunny couldn’t reach her there.
It was already dark when she reached her house. She walked into the living room to see her parents sitting on the couch.
“Hi,” Indigo said. “I’ve been running, I smell, and I know that I should’ve gotten back home earlier. I’m gonna take a shower and eat some supper. Did I miss something?”
“Your friends were here,” Indigo’s mother said. “They want to see you tomorrow about some dresses.”
“Oh hell…” Indigo muttered under her breath.
“Yeah, that’s what I said too,” Indigo’s father replied. “You and dresses? When we were buying you a school uniform, you threw a tantrum because you wanted trousers.”
Indigo chuckled. “Well, I was young and dumb…”
“You were thirteen.”
Indigo groaned. “I really preferred pants…”
Indigo’s mother chuckled. “To the point that you once went to school commando as a form of protest.”
“I’d better go and take a shower before you find more embarrassing things I did.” Indigo rushed upstairs. Before taking a shower, she checked the bathroom in case Sunny Flare was hiding there.
While pouring warm water all over herself, Indigo thought that hiding in some improbable place would be more like something Lemon Zest would do. This made her shudder; Lemon wasn’t usually into hiding from the others, but when she did want to disappear, she was pretty good at that. Indigo could never forget Sugarcoat’s expression when they were playing airsoft and Lemon suddenly emerged from the pile of leaves to shoot her in the back.
Luckily, Lemon wasn’t hiding anywhere, although when Indigo left the bathroom, wrapped in a pink and fluffy bathrobe, she saw that someone had tried to call her. Seven times. At first, Indigo wanted to call back, but then she decided it could wait. She went downstairs.
Food definitely couldn’t wait.
“Hi, Indy!”
Indigo gasped, waking up. She looked at her phone lying on the nightstand and realised it was 11 AM. She usually slept long on vacation, but this time she outdid herself. This wasn’t, however, an issue. The real issue was that Lemon Zest was sitting on her windowsill, waving her legs, adorned with striped socks.
“What the hell?” Indigo muttered. “How did you get here?”
“I climbed,” Lemon replied. “Hurry up, Sunny is waiting for us.”
Indigo was about to get up from bed, but she realised that due to a hot night, she’d gotten rid of her pajamas. “Get out,” she said. “I need to get dressed and eat something. Didn’t you hear that breakfast is the most important meal of the day?”
“At this time, you may as well eat lunch for breakfast.” Lemon jumped off the windowsill, grabbing the branch of a tree in Indigo’s garden. Indigo waited till she disappeared from sight before rushing to the closet.
Twenty minutes later, fully dressed and still a bit hungry, she was sitting in Sunny Flare’s car. She noted that it was a red convertible rather than a black SUV, but she chalked it up to her family’s inability not to show off their wealth.
“You know I’m doing it only because you two wouldn’t stop, right?” Indigo asked.
“You’ll thank me later,” Sunny Flare replied, looking at Indigo’s knee-long camo trousers and a black t-shirt with a drawing depicting a teenager on fire, standing in some suburb. “What are you even wearing?”
“I have one with a crossbuster, but it’d be awkward if I ran into Principal Cinch enjoying her last days before seeing us again,” Indigo said. “Where are we going?”
Sunny Flare smiled. “You’ll see…”
The room Sunny Flare used for working seemed pretty crowded, despite its enormous size. Half of it was littered with various bits of dismantled electronic devices. There were a couple of computers there, some of them much older than the host of this place. On the other side of the room, behind a battered pool table and a few empty wine bottles, there were bales of fabric stacked on the top of one another. A sewing machine, a large closet, and a locker full of utensils were nearly buried under them.
“If this whole thing revolts, it’ll be the most fabulous Skynet in existence,” Indigo muttered, pointing at the electronics. Sunny walked towards her and took a look at her hair.
“I can’t do much with that,” she muttered. “Unless you agree for hair extensions.”
“Let me tell you where you can stick your hair extensions…” Indigo raised her fist. “Touch my hair and you’ll have to sell your soul and half of this house to pay your dentist.”
“That’d be Sugarcoat’s mom,” Lemon said. She opened the locker and grabbed a pair of pliers. “Will we need that?”
“Later.” Sunny Flare grabbed a measuring tape and wrapped it around Indigo. “That’s some weird proportions…”
“Nah, I just have more muscles than a mosquito, unlike you,” Indigo replied. Sunny’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t say anything.
“How about this?” Lemon raised her hand, holding a circular saw blade.
“If Indigo behaves, we won’t need that.” Sunny threw the measuring tape on the table and went to the closet. “First, try that.”
Indigo eyed the pink miniskirt and a top unsurely. “Do I look like a slut to you?”
Sunny opened her mouth, but Indigo continued, “If you try to make me wear that, I’ll make you eat that top. Just so we’re clear.”
“Okay.” Sunny rolled her eyes and grabbed a navy blue dress. “How about that?”
“But I really wanted to see her in that pink thingy…” Lemon said.
“You didn’t,” Indigo muttered. “It was all a hallucination caused by your blood test results.”
“My blood test results were fine…” Lemon blushed.
Indigo smirked. “Well, the sight of me wearing that outfit could give you–”
“Indigo!” Sunny exclaimed.
“Nevermind.” Indigo rolled her eyes and looked at the blue dress. “Give me that.”
A few minutes later, Indigo stood in front of a big mirror, looking at her reflection. The blue dress looked fine on her, although Sunny insisted on shoes with heels higher than anything Indigo ever wore in her life.
“This guy is almost two metres tall, how would you look next to him?” Sunny asked.
“Why would I care?” Indigo asked. “It’s not like we’re together or anything…”
“We’re working to change that, aren’t we?” Sunny chuckled.
Indigo frowned. “No?”
Sunny didn’t hear that. “I have a better idea! He needs to see you as someone he can take care of! And we can achieve that by making you look like a–”
“– nerd.” Indigo narrowed her eyes. “I look like a nerd… I think.” She took the orange glasses off. “Pardon my French, but I can’t see shit in those.”
Sunny smirked. “You’ll look helpless to him…”
“But I don’t want to!” Indigo exclaimed. “On a side note, did you steal those glasses from Sugarcoat or what?”
Lemon smiled sheepishly. “She left them in the changing room when I met her at the swimming pool…”
Indigo smacked her hand against her forehead. “That’s it. Give me back my clothes, I’m leaving.” She turned to Sunny. “I appreciate your efforts, but I’d rather go to Bulk as me, not as a slutty nerd or whatever you have in mind. Get it?”
“Umm…” Sunny backpedalled.
“I’m glad you understand.” Indigo grabbed her t-shirt. “Now, show me the way out of this place…”
Sugarcoat grabbed the metal ladder and climbed out of the swimming pool. She looked around, squinting; everything around her was blurry, but she could more or less tell that the green wave nearby was that young lifeguard with dreadlocks, or that a bunch of kids were completely ignoring the “no running” signs. She tried to focus her gaze on the electronic clock on the wall, but she had to walk to it anyway to see that she had just enough time left to dry her hair and get dressed.
Sugarcoat walked to the dressing room and opened her locker. She wiped her face and grabbed the sport bag with her clothes.
“No way…” she muttered, opening it. “Damn…” She looked around and her gaze landed on someone light blue. “Sunny Flare? Is that you?” she asked. “Some son of a skunk and a jackal stole my glasses…”
“Ms. Sugarcoat, I’m afraid I’m not Sunny Flare. And I don’t think I can help you with your glasses.”
“Shit.” Sugarcoat froze, realising that the blue shape in front of her was most definitely Principal Cinch.
“I also don’t think such a vocabulary is necessary.”
“I’ll be right back,” Sugarcoat muttered, running across the changing room and back to the swimming pool. She slipped on wet tiles, waving her hands to regain balance. She saw some green blur in front of her and then she rammed into something, falling with it into the water.
“What the hell are you doing?” someone shouted. Sugarcoat stood in the water, blinking. After a while of guessing, she realised she’d knocked the lifeguard into the swimming pool.
“Someone stole my glasses, I ran into my principal and made a fool out of myself,” Sugarcoat replied. “Also, I fell into the swimming pool with… Wait, aren’t you that stoner Indigo told me about? Something about sandals?”
“Sandalwood, yeah,” he replied. “And you’re that girl who destroyed my birdhouse during the Friendship Games.”
“I merely gave it a coup de grâce,” Sugarcoat said. “It was made with duct tape and loose branches. Would you help me get out of this pool? I can’t see anything.”
“Maybe I should give that foie gras thing to you?” Sandalwood asked.
“Holding my head underwater for four minutes wouldn’t go unnoticed, especially since you’re a lifeguard here.” Sugarcoat swam to the edge of the swimming pool and crawled out of it. “Hope you don’t swim better than you build birdhouses.”
“My rats would like it.” Sandalwood got out of the pool in a much more dignified way than Sugarcoat.
“Well, they have a really weird taste…” Sugarcoat muttered. “Wait, you have rats?”
“Five,” Sandalwood replied. “Cheech, Chong, Julian, Ricky, and Bubbles.”
“I have a hairless rat called Meitner, and a hooded RCS rat called Rosalind,” Sugarcoat replied.
“What rat?” Sandalwood raised his eyebrows.
“Royal College of Surgeons,” Sugarcoat replied. “They’re blind by default and used in research. I saved one from the medical college.”
“Yeah, a blind rat fits you...” Sandalwood chuckled. “Can we save more of them?”
“I don’t think so,” Sugarcoat replied. “They’re hard to breed and I guess they discontinued the research. But I have a friend who needs to give two young rats to someone.”
“Really?” Sandalwood asked. “I always felt my herd needed Dante and Randall.” He looked at the clock. “My shift ends in an hour. If you wait, we can go there together.”
Sugarcoat sighed. “Well, it’s a choice between that and smashing into every lamppost on the way home. Not sure what’s worse.”
“Well, I can always drive you home so you can get spare glasses,” Sandalwood said.
Sugarcoat thought for a moment. “Okay. Just tell me if Cinch already left the changing room. I need to get my clothes.”
“Don’t worry, I saw her on the slide,” Sandalwood said. “There’s a cafe downstairs if you want to wait for me.”
The last week before the start of the school year was marked with Sour Sweet’s comeback. Indigo was greatly relieved by that – Lemon Zest and Sunny Flare were awfully quiet around her and she started to feel guilty for yelling at them.
“So, how was the farm?” Sugarcoat asked, when they finally gathered at her house, swarming her room, raiding the fridge, and, in case of Lemon Zest, playing with her rats.
“Fine,” Sour Sweet replied. “I hate it, sometimes. Fresh air, cows fucking, staying in touch with nature, slaughtering pigs, horse riding, this kind of things.”
“That’s… good, I guess?” Lemon Zest shrugged, smiling sheepishly.
“The lambs haven’t stopped screaming,” Sour Sweet said. “But the food was fine. How was your vacation?”
“Good,” Lemon Zest replied before anyone could open their mouths. “Except Indigo is like that all the time.” She pouted, crossing her arms.
“I’m not!” Indigo exclaimed. “Also, you and Sunny started it.”
“Oh, please,” Sugarcoat muttered. “Everyone is getting excited by Indigo and Bulk as if they were a thing. Meanwhile, I’m going on a date soon…”
Indigo coughed. “What? Who’d be brave enough? The owner of a cabinet of curiosities?”
“Sandalwood,” Sugarcoat replied. “We met once, talked about rats… Time for the second base, at least.”
“Already?” Indigo asked.
“Why waste time?” Sugarcoat shrugged. “Life is short. Meanwhile, you and Bulk circle each other like two pieces of–” She made a brief pause, scratching her chin. “– lather in the drain.”
“You’re all crazy,” Sour Sweet muttered, shaking her head. “I love you for that.”
Bulk put the barbell on the rack and sat on the bench, wiping sweat from his forehead. The gym was almost empty at this time of the day, save from a few girls using the machines. He looked at them, but he didn’t know any of them.
He was about to start another series of repetitions, when he saw Sandalwood walking into the gym. Bulk suppressed a groan, seeing his friend walking carelessly across the place, munching on some cookies.
“Hello,” Sandalwood said. “I met some girl scouts. Do you want a cookie?”
“No, I need a spotter who doesn’t spit crumbles on my face,” Bulk muttered, putting more weights on the barbell.
Sandalwood shrugged, grabbing another cookie. “You can always ask that Indigo. I guess she’d provide more aesthetic impressions than the humble son of my mother.” He stood above the bench, watching Bulk lifting the barbell. “You should invite her more often. Finally some bowling challenge.”
Bulk didn’t reply, focusing on the barbell. After the tenth rep, Sandalwood looked at the weights with horror, but it took five more before Bulk put the barbell back on the rack.
“Are you sure you even need a spotter?” Sandalwood asked.
“Well, weren’t you supposed to work on your legs?” Bulk sat on the bench. “Remember that workout plan I prepared for you?”
“How could I forget?” Sandalwood shuddered. “After the first training I thought it’d be easier to walk home on my hands.” He smirked and grabbed another cookie. “On a side note, seems that you became a trendsetter. I’ve met a nice Crystal Prep girl recently…”
Bulk grabbed a pair of dumbbells and started a series of bicep curls. “You can ask her if she wants to go bowling.”
“Surely.” Sandalwood took an unsure look at the leg press. “We kinda fell into the swimming pool, then we talked about rats, I drove her home, I got two new rats…”
Bulk focused on the exercise, ignoring Sandalwood. He finished the bicep curls and smoothly moved on to triceps kickbacks. After he was done, he wiped sweat from his forehead and looked at Sandalwood.
“... and then she called me a regressive ecoterrorist cuck,” Sandalwood said. “She has a rather interesting idea of dirty talk. Joke’s on her, though, because if I’m a cuck then it means she’s a–” He was interrupted by the ringtone of the phone lying on the windowsill.
“It’s mine,” Bulk said, walking to the phone. However, Sandalwood intercepted it first.
“Speak of the devil,” he muttered, looking at the screen. “Your doe is looking for her deer.”
Bulk snapped the phone out of his hand. “Call her that one more time and your next workout will consist of you running with me on your back, Master Yoda style.” He picked up the phone. “What’s up, Indy?”
Sandalwood rolled his eyes. “Indy?”
“Hello,” Indigo said. “What are you doing?”
Bulk shrugged. “Well, I was just working out. Umm… How about you?”
“Sour Sweet came back and I talked with my friends a bit,” Indigo replied. “Apparently Sugarcoat is in some kind of a dynamic relationship with Sandalwood. I had to suffer through her very technical description of how this came to be.”
“I can imagine.” Bulk looked at Sandalwood, who suddenly became very interested in the leg press. “Umm… Do you have any plans for today?”
“Well, I was just gonna ask you the same thing,” Indigo replied quickly. “You know, if we, like, met today and grab some coffee and talk… Alone, that is… That’d be great.”
“Sure thing.” Bulk nodded. “How about that small cafe near the mall? The one with masks on the walls. I’ll be ready in an hour.”
“Okay,” Indigo said. “See you around.”
“Coffee, huh?” Sandalwood smirked, putting the sled of the leg press down. “Not bad at all, dude. You just have to stop being so shy.”
“You heard everything, didn’t you?” Bulk sighed.
“Of course. Musician’s hearing.”
“You play bongos!”
“That still requires good hearing.” Sandalwood shrugged and started another series of lifts. “You should be more like her. She says stuff first and only later thinks of what she said. It’s useful, I’d say.”
“Yeah, like when you told my father, uncle, and two cousins that cutting down trees is murder?” Bulk chuckled.
Sandalwood blushed more than he should from all the weights on the sled he was lifting. “Well, at least I talked myself out if it.”
“Actually, it was me who talked them out of shaving your head and throwing you naked into a field of nettle so you’d become one with the nature,” Bulk replied. “But if you start singing The Lumberjack Song in their presence again, I may not be able to intervene.”
“Meh.” Sandalwood shrugged, adding some weights to the sled. “You’d better hurry up, dude. You don’t wanna miss a date and your muscles must be perfect.”
Bulk sighed. “Sandalwood…”
“And remember, bros before does.”
“Oh, shut up.”
Due to some manipulations of the free market’s invisible hand, the area around the mall was blessed with not one, but three cafes. The design of the first one appealed to the likes of Sandalwood – made entirely out of recycled materials, with fair trade, gluten-free coffee prepared by a hermit who lived in a hut made of sticks.
The other was also rather hipsterical in appearance, although not entirely recycled, and with prices suggesting that the hermit could afford sticks of mahogany. Indigo had been there once, when Sugarcoat invited her; they did have decaffeinated coffee, but a sleepless night afterwards convinced her that her body really couldn’t stand coconut milk.
The third cafe was completely different. The masks Bulk had mentioned would suggest that the owner was somehow interested in theatre. However, it was only partially true, as the owner was a retired luchadora – a large, motherly-looking woman in her forties, with a thunderstorm of red curls and hands that could turn a coffee cup in a fine powder. The only part of the place that could be associated with theatre was a green-haired girl called Drama Letter, who had gotten hired for vacation as a barista.
Currently, Drama Letter was sitting by the coffee machine, thinking of all the people who were misinterpreting Romeo and Juliet. For way too many of them, it was the greatest love story of all times. For Drama, it was about a pair of dumb teenagers and their even worse parents.
Indigo Zap didn’t have such problems, not only because she just skimmed the play in question and relied on Sugarcoat’s notes during the lesson. She also had other things on her mind.
“Iced coffee,” she said. “Decaf.”
“What’s the point of drinking coffee without caffeine?” Drama Letter asked.
“Placebo effect,” Indigo replied. “I don’t feel like being addicted to anything, you know.”
Drama Letter shrugged and went off to prepare the coffee. Soon, Indigo was sitting at the table, sucking at the straw and looking through the window at the street. It was hard to miss Bulk – he walked down the pavement in his orange sleeveless shirt, saw Indigo’s bicycle parked by the cafe and walked in.
“Hello,” he said, sitting at the table. “What’s up?”
“Many things,” Indigo replied. “You’d better grab a coffee because it may take a while.”
“Did something happen?” Bulk asked, looking at the door.
“Coffee.”
Bulk sighed and walked to the counter. Drama Letter gave him a weird look when he ordered a latte, but didn’t say anything about it. When Bulk came back to the table, Indigo was drinking her iced coffee in a rather casual manner, leaning back in her seat.
“So, what’s going on?” Bulk asked.
Indigo put the cup on the table. “Well, I was thinking…”
“Yes?” Bulk took a sip of his coffee.
“Don’t look at me like that, it happens to me from time to time,” Indigo chuckled. “Don’t you think that it’s annoying that everyone around is, umm… in a relationship?”
“Umm… no?” Bulk shrugged.
Indigo sighed. “I mean, Twilight is okay. But Sugarcoat and Sandalwood, out of the sudden? Weird. Though at least this one will last two weeks at best.”
“Should I tell him?” Bulk asked. “Not that he’ll mind.”
“No, it’ll be amusing to watch,” Indigo replied. “Anyway, you know how it is, people fall in love and then it goes wrong, they shout at each other, forget about their birthdays…”
“I don’t even know when is your birthday,” Bulk said.
“October 10th,” Indigo muttered. “Wait, why do you think I’m talking about us?”
“You aren’t?” Bulk raised his eyebrows.
Indigo smiled sheepishly. “Maybe…”
Bulk said nothing. There was a brief moment of silence, interrupted only by the sounds of coffee machine and Drama Letter trying to explain something to her boss over the phone in a bizarre mixture of English and Spanish.
“So…” Indigo took a sip of her coffee. “I mean… We barely know each other but… I don’t know.”
“You don’t know what?” Bulk asked.
Indigo shrugged. “I don’t know.” She chuckled. “Lemon says my ability to express my feelings has been ran over by a train when I was a kid.”
“Maybe I can help?” Bulk asked. “It’s fun to hang out with you. And I most certainly won’t forget about your birthday.”
“You don’t know everything about me,” Indigo said.
“Should I?” Bulk looked down at the table. “Do you eat people or something?”
Indigo smiled. “Of course not! Unless I need proteins.”
“My distant cousins probably do, but they live in a small village without internet,” Bulk said. “Hope you like mountains.”
“I do,” Indigo replied. “As for the family, I have a sister, but don’t worry about her.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “She was so unconvincing that they won’t release her from prison in the next twenty years or so.”
“What happened?” Bulk asked.
“A lot of bad decisions,” Indigo replied. “My parents are kinda crazy about me, but so far I didn’t steal any car and don’t feel like it, so maybe I’m not like her.”
“Well, you definitely seem nicer,” Bulk said. “And my family is pretty boring, you know.”
“Except they eat people.” Indigo chuckled. “Well, we’d better stay on topic. I mean, we know each other a bit and we feel it’s fun to be around each other and…”
“You’d like to know me better?” Bulk asked.
Indigo raised her eyebrows. “How do you know?”
“Well… That’s what I feel too,” Bulk replied.
“I wonder if it’s love,” Indigo blurted out. Bulk nearly choked on his coffee. “I mean, Sugarcoat told me about a way to check that, but…”
“I guess that’s the same thing Sandalwood told me,” Bulk said. “If you think you’re in love, you need to go and–” He got interrupted when Indigo leaned over the table and planted a kiss on his lips. Before he could do something, she broke away and sat back in her seat, blushing profusely.
“What was that?” Bulk asked.
“I, umm… Sometimes I prefer to rush into things without thinking, you know,” Indigo replied.
“I see.” Bulk leaned over to Indigo and kissed her. She stood up and embraced him, closing her eyes and knocking over the cup with the remains of her coffee. For a while, they stood there, locked in a hug, forgetting about the whole world. Which currently included Drama Letter, who winced and made a gagging noise.
Finally, Bulk broke the hug.
“I guess we may give it a try,” Indigo said, smiling. She grabbed Bulk’s hand and pulled him away from the table.
“Yeah,” Bulk replied. “Wait, where are you taking me?”
“For a little walk,” Indigo replied. They rushed out of the cafe.
Drama Letter watched through the window as Indigo took her bike and the two walked away. She shook her head and walked to wipe the table.
It was a sunny afternoon in the park. Sugarcoat was lying on a blanket under a tree, reading some book, while Lemon Zest listened to music next to her, coughing and wiping her nose from time to time – as usual just before school, she caught a cold. Sour Sweet sat beside them, resting her back against the trunk and watching people walking by, while Sunny Flare seemed completely lost in her bracelets.
“What about this one?” Sour Sweet asked. “Fat or pregnant?”
Sugarcoat turned away from the book and looked at the direction her friend was pointing at. “Fat and pregnant, I’d say.”
Sour Sweet looked again. “You may be right,” she said. “But I’m still winning.”
Sugarcoat straightened out her glasses. “You do realise that as long as we don’t walk to everyone to ask, the results are unreliable?”
“Yeah, the results are unreliable.” Sour Sweet shrugged. “That’s the same thing doctors said when your parents asked if you were a boy or a girl.”
Sugarcoat rolled her eyes. “Questioning my femininity now? Please. I liked it better when you were implying that I lit my cradle on fire and my father put it out with a shovel. Or that my parents fed me with a slingshot when I was a toddler.”
Lemon Zest sneezed and lowered her headphones. “Are you still being horrible people?”
“Yes,” Sugarcoat replied.
“No.” Sour Sweet smirked. “Or yes.”
Lemon Zest shrugged and took a look at the screen of Sunny Flare’s bracelets. “Hey, you know you’re making a lot of typos, right?”
The stare Sunny gave her lowered the temperature by a few degrees. “Those aren’t typos,” she replied. “I always wanted to hack iPear servers, but the only guy who knows how to do that only speaks Tagalog.”
“Ah.” Lemon Zest nodded, shrugging. “So, you want to tag along?”
Before Sunny could reply, a powerful noise assaulted her ears. She looked at her headphones, but they couldn’t possibly be the source of it. Mostly because she was only listening to ambient recently.
However, Sugarcoat quickly gave her a hint. “Sour Sweet, dear, why are you shrieking like a baboon in heat?”
“Your mother was a baboon,” Sour Sweet replied. “But please, tell me I’m not the only one seeing that.” She pointed at one of the paths surrounding the lawn.
“What the hell?” Lemon muttered.
“Interesting…” Sugarcoat’s eyes narrowed.
“Putang ina mo…” Sunny Flare whispered with an accent that wouldn’t fool anyone in Manila. Her friends looked at her. She cleared her throat and decided to observe how the situation would unfold.
There was plenty to start with. What they saw was Bulk running down the path, carrying Indigo on his back. She laughed, waving at them, and whispered something into Bulk’s ear. He rushed across the lawn, almost losing Indigo, but she held him as tight as she could, considering her endless fit of laughing.
“Hello,” Bulk said, stopping by the blanket under a tree. “What’s up?”
Sugarcoat looked up at him. “Indigo. What are you doing?”
“I’m being carried around,” Indigo replied, smiling. “Don’t look at me like that. Haven’t you done anything spontaneous in your life?”
“I did,” Sugarcoat replied. “On the first day at school I asked you where the class was. Also, I need to have a talk with Sandalwood.”
“His back muscles could use some work, yeah.” Bulk chuckled.
“And I wonder what’d happen if you switched places,” Sour Sweet said.
“No, thanks,” Indigo replied. “I really like my spine. It’s the only one I got.”
“Oh yeah, if it broke, you’d be disabled.” Sour Sweet nodded. “Don’t worry, we’d take care of you. Or push your wheelchair down the stairs if we feel that’s better for you.”
“Chill out, Sour,” Lemon Zest said. “Do you have any selfies together? Because you totally should.”
“Maybe later.” Indigo rolled her eyes. “For now on, we have to go!” She smacked Bulk’s arm, making him whinny like a horse and rush back across the grass. Sunny, Sour Sweet, Sugarcoat, and Lemon Zest watched them until the disappeared behind the hill. Even then, the remained silent, processing what just happened.
“Okay, I’ll sum it up,” Sugarcoat said, turning to Lemon Zest and Sunny Flare. “You two created a monster.”
“Hey, at least I’m not dating a hippie!” Sunny Flare exclaimed.
Lemon Zest pouted. “And she didn’t even want our makeover!”
“But you planted the seeds, I’d say,” Sugarcoat replied. “And if what I’ve heard about my glasses is true, you did that twice.”
“Not sure about them, but some seeds will eventually be planted,” Sour Sweet muttered. “And then everyone will cry.”
“Eww…” Lemon Zest winced, covering her mouth in a fit of coughing. “I really didn’t need that mental image.”
“Deal with it,” Sugarcoat muttered. “As we all will have to…”
The powerful riff shook the windows of the small room. It soon dissolved into a dissonant solo played at an insane pace, leaving far behind the bassline and the drums, which lost the way, drowning everything in the hissing of crash and ride cymbals being hit repeatedly with no rhyme nor reason.
“Flash, what the hell?” The teal-haired drummer known as Brawly Beats stood up. “We started with something like Lynyrd Skynyrd on acid, and you ended up with something Misfits would write after spending a night drinking with Captain Beefheart.”
“I got slightly distracted,” Flash replied. “And it was fine, I think.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Brawly Beats said. “Unless you put it on our tenth album when we’re old and play progressive rock.”
“First you’d have to learn how to play drums,” Ringo, the bassist of Flash Drive, said. “And I mean something more complex than your simple, plebeian meters.”
The door of the rehearsal room opened and Sandalwood walked in. “Hi, guys.” He waved his hand at Flash and his band. “I think I left a vibraslap here after our rehearsal.”
“Eww…” Ringo winced.
“I think I’m in the wrong band…” Brawly Beats chuckled.
“There it is!” Sandalwood exclaimed, grabbing a piece of thick, bent wire with a wooden ball on one end and a box resembling a cowbell in shape on the other. “Oh, by the way, Flash, we need to talk later.”
Ringo lowered his sunglasses, looking at the vibraslap. “What do you do with that?”
Sandalwood grabbed the wire and hit the wooden ball against his other hand, causing the contents of the wooden box to rattle. “That’s how you play it,” he said. “Originally it was a horse jaw with loose teeth, but then some dude invented this.” He looked at Flash and smirked. “Horses of all the universes rejoiced.”
“Fuck off, Sandalwood,” Flash muttered under his breath.
“Soon,” Sandalwood said. “I’ll wait for you downstairs.”
“Don’t bother, it’ll take a while,” Flash replied.
“Actually it won’t, if you keep drifting off in weird directions.” Brawly Beats stood up and spun the drumstick in his fingers.
Flash sighed. “Fine.” He grabbed his guitar and put it in the case. “I’ll call you later.” With these words, he walked out of the rehearsal room. Sandalwood followed him with the vibraslap in his hands.
“Why so salty, my friend?” he asked when they were walking down the stairs of the youth centre.
Flash didn’t reply, speeding up instead.
“Okay, we all get it that Twilight Sparkle of our world and the pony world next to us don’t love you,” Sandalwood said. “Same goes for Sunset Shimmer, but you dumped her first, back when she was a total bi– douchebagel.” He sighed, seeing that Flash didn’t listen to him. “But remember, there’s an infinite number of universes and most of them has a Twilight Sparkle. One of them must–”
Flash turned to him. “Oh really? Do you know something about portals to those universes? Because I don’t.”
“Well, there’s that abandoned toilet in the dungeons of CHS,” Sandalwood replied. “But Twilight Sparkle from that universe has tentacles and you wouldn’t like her.”
Flash raised his eyebrows. “You are stoned, aren’t you?”
“That’s permanent,” Sandalwood replied. “When I was a kid, I fell into the cauldron with magic weed.” He cleared his throat. “But seriously, there’s plenty of fish in the sea and only some are contaminated with mercury, you know.”
“Like who?” Flash asked.
Sandalwood smiled. “Well, there’s a lady who has an eye on you. And she’s in that comfortable position that she can keep one eye on you and watch everything else with the other.”
Flash nodded. “You mean Derpy?”
Sandalwood sighed and raised his finger. “That’s a rude thing to say about little Muffins, you know. No wonder no one loves you.”
“Shut up,” Flash muttered. They walked out of the youth centre and went down the sunny street, towards the car park. “She’s nice and all, but we don’t even talk with each other that much.”
“Sugarcoat and I don’t, either.” Sandalwood shrugged.
“But you two were at least dropped out of the same mothership.” Flash chuckled.
“Two different decks of it,” Sandalwood said. “Anyway, I wanted to offer you a chance to know her better. It’s almost the end of August and we were planning a small road trip with Bulk, Indigo, Coatie, and Muffins. You can go too, I have a big car.”
“So, you want to hook me up with her?” Flash shook his head. “That’s kinda creepy.”
“Yeah, about that,” Sandalwood said. “Muffins said she can’t make it. But you can still go, as long as you can deal with the rest of us. Then you can talk to her or talk to Sunset, or whoever you want. Even that drummer of your band, he seems sexy.”
Flash coughed, staring at Sandalwood. “And you wonder why people think you’re gay…”
“Hey, I’m an aesthete,” Sandalwood replied. “I admire the beauty of the human body, no matter who happens to own it.”
“Tell that to Brawly Beats.” Flash laughed. “Assuming he’d let you before putting one of his sticks in–”
“Freud was right, it seems.” Sandalwood shook his head. “Anyway, we take off tomorrow morning.”
The sun rose, peeking from behind the skyscrapers. Indigo stretched her arms and walked to the kitchen to grab something to eat before leaving.
“Remember to behave yourself,” her father said. “No drinking.”
Indigo rolled her eyes. “I don’t drink, you know.”
“Every teen says that,” Indigo’s father replied. “I know, I was a teenager too.”
Indigo’s mother walked out of her bedroom. “And remember that we’re too young to become grandparents, okay?”
Indigo nearly choked on her cereal. “Mom!” she exclaimed, her face red. “Bulk and I don’t know each other that well!”
“Last time I checked, it didn’t stop anyone from making babies.” Indigo’s father chuckled and embraced her mother. “You know, we once met after a game–”
“I don’t want to know the rest of that story.” Indigo waved her hand. “Also, with my skills, the kid would probably follow auntie Lightning, so I’d rather not try.” She finished her meal and stood up.
“Have fun,” Indigo’s father said, smiling at her.
“Thanks.” Indigo left the kitchen, put her shoes on, and grabbed a backpack with some spare clothes.
A few minutes later, she was walking down the pavement to the bus stop – she’d ditched the idea of using her bike after Bulk told her that Sandalwood’s parents could somehow use it to try to save the rainforests. While Indigo generally agreed that they should be saved, she felt that she wouldn’t get her bike back.
The bus arrived soon. When Indigo got inside, she saw Sugarcoat sitting in the darkest corner of the vehicle, seemingly lost in her thoughts. Indigo walked to her and poked her arm.
“What’s up?” she asked.
“I packed everything,” Sugarcoat replied. “I have warm clothes, good boots, a rope–”
“For kinky or murderous purposes?” Indigo chuckled.
“Neither,” Sugarcoat said. “We’re going to the mountains, so we may as well go climbing. We can also end up being chased by a serial killer hiding there, so I took a knife to cut off his fingers while he climbs behind us.”
“Good thing I took bandaids.” Indigo smirked. “You know, in case you cut your own fingers.”
“You’ll thank me later,” Sugarcoat said. “You know, if we were in space, I’d take exploding ammo and plasma. But in the mountains, we’ll do with a knife. And condoms. I took twenty, in the most popular sizes.”
Indigo groaned and shook her head. “Please. First I had this talk with my parents and I feel that’s enough for today. Now you–”
“I even have strawberry-flavoured ones.” Sugarcoat opened her backpack.
“Are you going to fuck or make juice out of them?” Indigo exclaimed, causing all the other passengers to look at them. She blushed and smiled awkwardly, trying in vain to disappear in her seat.
“Way to go, Indigo,” Sugarcoat said. “So, as I said, I have a knife, a rope, condoms, dry socks, a climbing harness, and a spare phone in case all our phones die at once, which would mean there’s a serial killer nearby.”
“You watch too many cheap horror movies,” Indigo replied. “Though actually this wouldn’t be that bad. You know who always survives the slashers?”
“Tomboyish, dark-haired virgin who doesn’t drink or smoke.” Sugarcoat paused, her eyes widening, and looked at Indigo. “Wait…”
“Yeah, and blonde slut always dies,” Indigo replied. “Strawberry condoms will be the death of you, Sugarcoat.”
A tall, dark-haired man with a goatee and glasses, who was sitting in front of them, turned to Sugarcoat. “Considering all circumstances, I’d say you’re dead.”
“She’ll die in the sequel, though,” Sugarcoat replied, saluting the man with her middle finger. He shrugged and went back to writing something in his notebook.
The rest of the ride was uneventful; Indigo and Sugarcoat changed the bus for a tram in the city centre and after thirty minutes, found themselves close enough to Sandalwood’s house to get there by foot.
“Seems that daddy’s home,” Sugarcoat muttered when they stood by the door.
“Who?” Indigo asked.
“My father-in-law,” Sugarcoat replied. “Sandalwood’s father,” she added, seeing that Indigo’s eyes widened even more.
“Ah, okay.” Indigo shrugged. Sugarcoat knocked on the door, which opened quickly.
For a moment, Indigo thought that Sandalwood somehow managed to get much older, grow a beard, buy thick-rimmed glasses, and swap his dreadlocks for a ponytail. Then she realised, that the man who opened the door must’ve been his father; they were just too similar in both hair colour and skin tone.
“Peace and love,” the man said. He was wearing a long yellow robe.
“Hello,” Sugarcoat said. “Not in the rainforest?”
“We already saved it, I presume,” Sandalwood’s father replied. “Soon, I’ll be joining Sahara Sunshine in the South Pole. We’re shooting a new movie and raising awareness about global warming.”
“That’s… cool,” Indigo said. She could swear she had seen Sandalwood’s father before. It had something to do with Sunny’s mother. “Who is Sahara Sunshine?”
“My wife.” The man in a yellow robe looked at Indigo. “Ah, you don’t know me, friend. My name’s Canter Zoom. My son is in the garage.”
“As you can see, ‘Sandalwood’ is not that bad as a name,” Sugarcoat whispered when Canter Zoom led them to the garage.
“Isn’t he that movie director?” Indigo whispered.
“Whenever he’s not involved in various charities, such as saving the Camp Everfree,” Sugarcoat said. “Or helping his wife to save the environment.”
The garage was filled with various tools, scattered here and there, as well as two backpacks, lying by the wall.
“Hello,” Sandalwood said, emerging from behind his car, holding a big hammer. “The car should be fine now.” He threw the hammer away and walked to Sugarcoat and embraced her, kissing her cheek. “Indigo, we’ll pick up Bulk on the way.”
“Sure,” Indigo replied. “Whose bags are those, then?”
Sandalwood turned towards his car. “Flash, stop hiding inside.”
There were some noises coming from the car and Flash emerged from it, his hair a bit messy. “I fell asleep while you were repairing this thing,” he said. “I thought you wanted me to help?”
“Turned out I didn’t need you,” Sandalwood replied. “All I needed was a hammer.”
“Of course,” Flash muttered. “No one ever needs me.”
“Hey, at least you lowered the suspension a bit by sitting in there,” Sandalwood said and turned to Indigo. “Don’t mind him. He’s just salty because the only girl that’s into him plays a saw.”
“How do you play a saw?” Indigo asked.
Sandalwood shrugged. “Noisily.”
“Wait, aren’t you that dude who was into Twilight?” Sugarcoat asked. “I’d say that I saw that coming, pun absolutely not intended. You two would fit each other, though.”
“You think so?” Flash raised his head.
“Yeah. You both are a total opposite of cool,” Sugarcoat replied.
“Because you’re so cool.” Indigo rolled her eyes. “The only cool things are me, Sunny Flare, Lemon Zest, and refrigerators. You’re at best a cold bi–”
“Hey, chill out,” Sandalwood said. “Coatie can be pretty hot when she wants to.”
Indigo shuddered. “I’d rather not see that…”
“Well, in twenty years I’ll be cool.” Sugarcoat smirked. “My style is ahead of its time.”
“Keep telling that to yourself.” Indigo got into the van and looked around. “You take a guitar with you?”
“Yeah,” Flash replied. “If you want, I can show you a few chords.”
“Maybe one day,” Indigo said. “I usually sleep on long trips.”
“Maybe I should take a vibraslap,” Sandalwood said, throwing his backpack inside and sitting behind the wheel. “We could play some music together.”
Indigo chuckled. “That’s how they call it nowadays?”
“I swear, there should be some mandatory classes about unusual instruments…” Sandalwood muttered.
Sugarcoat sat next to him. “What’s unusual about your instrument?”
“Just don’t check it while we drive,” Flash said. “It’s not safe.”
Indigo groaned. “I didn’t need that mental image!” She looked at Flash. “Sorry, dude, if I throw up on you, it’s their fault.”
“Same,” Flash muttered.
Sandalwood started up the engine and the van rolled out of the garage. They drove past the suburbs, causing people on the way to turn and stare at the old, battered Volkswagen. The gardens around the houses became bigger, soon reaching the size of small ranches.
Flash looked through the window and then at Sugarcoat, who was staring at Sandalwood. “Don’t you think couples are the worst?” he asked.
“Nah, Sugarcoat can be pretty annoying on her own,” Indigo replied.
“Then why are you friends?”
“We ended up in the principal’s office on our first day in the sixth grade,” Indigo said. “Apparently you’re not allowed to kick a guy in the nuts because he called that girl you just met a creep.”
Flash nodded. “Does it happen to you often? I mean, all Norman’s girlfriends are currently in mourning due to his unfortunate accident with a bowling ball.”
“No, I’m only a bit short-fused,” Indigo replied. “Used to be worse. Sunny Flare lost some milk teeth in the kindergarten because she stole my doll.”
“First stop.” Sandalwood pushed the brakes, stopping at the side of the road. “Indigo, go and tell your boyfriend to move his ass.”
Indigo looked outside. Somehow, she’d never seen Bulk’s house before and was surprised to see a large, wooden building in the middle of the woods surrounding the town. Then she thought that it made sense; after all, Bulk’s family consisted mostly of lumberjacks.
She got out of the car and walked towards the house. The front yard was empty, but when Indigo got closer, she saw a young, carnation-skinned girl with pink, messy hair, who was hidden behind a pile of chopped wood.
The girl looked rather peculiar. She wore a too big denim jacket that looked like its previous owner had been ran over with an eighteen-wheeler, and a pair of too short trousers with a long tear running across the left leg. Under her jacket, Indigo could see a fragment of a dirty t-shirt with ‘Kill the Poor’ written on it in large, red letters. When Indigo approached her, the girl threw a cigarette on the ground and stepped on it.
“Hi,” Indigo said. “I’m looking for Bulk. Have you seen him?”
“Yeah, in the morning,” the girl replied, eyeing Indigo curiously. “I’m working here, so if you’d sod off, that’d be great, y’know. Guess he’s busy.” She shrugged. “Going on a trip with his chick or something.”
“That’d be me,” Indigo said, furrowing her eyebrows. “I’ll just call him…” She walked away a bit – she didn’t like the look the girl was giving her phone.
“Wait,” the girl said. “Didn’t know you were his bestie. He’ll come soon, I guess.” She walked closer to Indigo, raising her hand.
“Ruby?”
Indigo looked up and saw Bulk walking to them, carrying a backpack. “Dad said he needs you in the forest,” he said to Ruby, before pulling Indigo into a hug. “What’s up, Indy?”
“Fine,” Indigo replied as they walked towards the car. “Who is she? Weird sister?”
“Nah, she’s helping with wood,” Bulk said. “We also found out she makes moonshine in the remote part of the forest, but we confiscated her equipment.”
“Where did you find her?” Indigo asked. “In the gutter?”
“Close. In the trailer park.” Bulk opened the door of Sandalwood’s car. “Hello, guys,” he said. “How are you?”
“In the mood for singing blues songs,” Flash replied, pointing at Sandalwood and Sugarcoat, who were kissing each other. “Or throwing up.”
“Chill out.” Bulk sat on his seat, trapping Flash between the wall and himself. Indigo sat next to him and rested her head on his arm. Sandalwood finally unglued himself off Sugarcoat’s face and turned on the engine. They drove down the narrow road between forests and fields. Sugarcoat turned on the radio and winced.
“What the hell is that?” she asked. “Peace and love, summer of love, I don’t even. It’s not 1969 anymore, let’s all stop pretending that it is.”
Sandalwood shrugged. “What would you prefer, then?”
“Anything that has enough balls to make you uncomfortable,” Sugarcoat replied and turned towards Indigo, Bulk, and Flash. “Do you know that he removed the right alt from his keyboard because it made him uncomfortable?”
“Yeah, because your music is so much better,” Indigo said. “Like, when we let you choose, we ended up with grindcore and some guy whose aim is to break everyone’s eardrums.”
“It was noise music, you know.”
“Well, certainly it was noise,” Indigo said. “I’m more of a punk rock girl.”
“Really?” Flash asked. “I like everything that has guitar in it.”
“I just listen to whatever they play in the gym.” Bulk shrugged. “That and classical music. A lot of classical music.”
“We’ll work on you, don’t worry.” Indigo chuckled.
“Assuming I survive the trip…” Flash muttered, trying to free himself from under Bulk.
“I like classical music too,” Sugarcoat said. “But it’s too complicated for Sandalwood to understand it when he’s not stoned.”
“Oh, please,” Sandalwood muttered. “You need three meds just to survive the day and you’re calling me a stoner.”
“At least I got prescription for those!” Sugarcoat exclaimed.
“How did they even get together?” Flash asked. “I mean, Woody always had masochistic tendencies, but that steals the cake.”
“She can be nice, sometimes,” Indigo replied. “Also, there are probably some other things we’re not aware of.”
“I give them two weeks before it all ends,” Bulk said.
“Bet.” Indigo poked Bulk’s muscular arm. “I guess it’ll take three hours.”
“Before they break up?” Bulk asked.
“No, before she distracts him and we all die in a crash,” Indigo replied and kicked Sandalwood’s seat. “Focus on driving!”
“I’m gonna be that guy,” Flash muttered. “They’ll last longer than you two.”
Bulk and Indigo looked at him. “Why do you think that?”
“They yell at each other and still are together,” Flash said. “As far as I know, you didn’t even survive your first argument yet.”
“Yeah, because you’re an expert on relationships,” Indigo muttered. “Also, how do you know? Maybe we do argue?”
“We don’t,” Bulk replied. “I mean, isn’t it a bit too soon for that? It’s been what, a week?”
“Eight days,” Indigo said. “And we’re almost adults. We know how to diffuse conflicts before they appear.”
“How?” Flash asked.
“Well, we’re honest with each other, right?” Indigo turned to Bulk. “On a side note, that Ruby creeps me out. As if she wanted to steal my stuff and run away.”
“She got kicked out of CHS because she rarely ever showed up in class,” Bulk said. “She also stole Diamond Tiara’s wallet.”
“Who’d be stupid enough to do that?” Indigo asked. “I mean, why’d someone miss school or steal other people’s money?”
Bulk raised his eyebrows. “Why did your sister do that?”
“Because she’s dumb and felt she was bored.” Indigo shrugged. “Is Ruby also that bored or hates her parents for something?”
Flash shrugged. “You don’t get it, do you?”
“Get what?”
“Ruby lives in a trailer, her mother is usually drunk, and no one knows who her father is,” Bulk said. “I mean, you don’t meet poor people very often, do you?”
“You mean, like, bums in the street?” Indigo asked. “Why would I?”
Sugarcoat turned back. “She’s not that bad, you know. Sunny Flare once saw a homeless guy and wondered why he didn’t ask his parents for more money.”
“Crystal Prep girls.” Flash shrugged.
“Yeah, make it a hashtag,” Indigo muttered. “Okay, so I may be a bit behind on such matters, but what does it have to do with my relationship with Bulk?”
“Nothing,” Bulk replied.
“Aside from you accidentally saying stupid or offensive things,” Sugarcoat said. “Just try not to tell something like that with his family around. Or just don’t say anything at all.”
“Said the master of tact and good behaviour,” Indigo muttered, crossing her arms. “Civilised people just discuss their flaws, right?”
“Well, I’d say you’re a bit too impulsive, sometimes,” Bulk said.
“What did you say?!” Indigo exclaimed. “Me, impulsive?”
“Yeah, I’d have to ask Norman about that…” Flash smiled.
“I’ve heard he now speaks in falsetto…” Bulk chuckled.
Indigo rested her forehead against her hand. “Okay, I am a bit impulsive, but he had that coming, okay? And Sugarcoat also has it coming.”
“I’m gonna prepare the mud pit,” Sandalwood muttered. Sugarcoat smacked him in the arm, causing him to almost turn to the opposite lane. He turned back, causing tyres to screech.
“Sugarcoat, stop trying to kill us,” Indigo said, grabbing Bulk’s arm. “How much longer are we gonna drive? I’m getting hungry and I can’t say hungry without angry, you know.”
“We noticed.” Bulk smirked.
“The nearest petrol station is in two miles,” Sandalwood said. “But they surely don’t have vegan food.”
“Good.” Sugarcoat chuckled.“I’ll teach you to eat meat like a real man.”
Sandalwood groaned. “That sounds extremely gay.”
“As if it ever stopped you before,” Flash muttered.
Sandalwood opened his mouth to say something, but then he saw the petrol station at the side of the road. He slowed down and turned towards the car park. Even though it was almost the end of summer, there weren’t many cars there, coming back from vacation. The mountainous woodland they were going to wasn’t a very popular direction and most of the tourists who dared to go there already came back.
The van stopped at the parking spot under the trees. Indigo jumped out of it, stretching her legs. Gentle breeze cooled her down, which was a nice change – even if Sandalwood’s car had air conditioning, it had stopped working before he was born.
“I gotta take a leak,” Sugarcoat muttered, rushing towards the main building of the station.
“Me too,” Sandalwood said, following her.
Flash looked around. “Nice place. Where are we?”
“Somewhere around the Lake Gardner,” Bulk replied. “It’s a reservoir named after some farmer that lived in the flooded area.”
“Guess he was pretty pissed?” Indigo asked.
“Not really,” Bulk said. “He died long before that. Guess he was famous from his crops or something.”
“More or less.” Another driver walked to them, taking off his cowboy hat and wiping his forehead. “By the way, don’t take that weird shortcut a mile from there. Ah got here faster than Ah should have according to the map, but the trees there are purdy obnoxious there.”
“How can a tree be obnoxious?” Flash asked.
“When it tries to catch yer head when ya drive, y’all can tell the tree is obnoxious,” the driver replied, walking to his car—a large cruiser with a hood adorned with bull horns, and a vanity plate saying “BR43BURN”—and opened the trunk. “Also, Ah ran over such a fucker.” He showed them a large creature that could pass as a woodchuck, if woodchucks had fangs and enormous claws.
“What the hell?” Indigo asked. “Maybe Sandalwood is right: we should take care of the environment before it takes care of us.”
“I think I’m gonna go to the toilet too,” Flash muttered, backpedalling. He then turned back and ran away.
The guy threw the carcass back into the trunk. “Gotta go,” he said. “Have fun.”
“What was that?” Indigo muttered when the guy drove away. “Was it even real?”
Bulk shrugged. “No idea. You know, one day you think everything is normal and then people around you turn into demons and those three new girls in school turn out to be sirens.”
“What?” Indigo exclaimed. “Like, the Little Mermaid sirens, or what?”
“More like, we’ll hypnotise you and eat your brain kind of sirens,” Bulk replied. “Wonder what happened to them?”
“No idea.” Indigo shrugged. “I’ll tell you if some new girl in Crystal Prep seems fishy. And by the way, I’m starving. What do you think they have in here?”
“A steak from a mutated beaver, siren and chips, with a tall glass of water from Gardner Lake.” Bulk chuckled.
Despite those claims, the food in the petrol station’s bar turned out fine, if only a bit unhealthy. Indigo attacked her chicken salad with a plastic fork, while Bulk grabbed a hamburger. Soon, they were joined by Sugarcoat, Flash, and Sandalwood.
“What is that?” Indigo raised her eyebrows, seeing what was on the plate in front of Sugarcoat.
“A cheeseburger,” Sugarcoat replied, grabbing a bun bigger than her head, filled with meat, bacon, pickles, tomatoes, red onion, and lettuce drowned in barbecue sauce. “It’s the least vegan thing I found, you can be sure of that.”
“Sorry, I ran out of the fucks to give.” Sandalwood focused on his penne with wild mushrooms.
“Those may be poisonous,” Sugarcoat muttered.
“Bite me.”
“Later…” Sugarcoat purred.
“You know, we call those ‘a fuck with a guitar’,” Flash said, pointing at Sugarcoat’s cheeseburger.
“Why?”
“You’ll see,” Flash replied. Sugarcoat looked at him unsurely and took a large bite of her cheeseburger. A large portion of barbecue sauce shot out of it, ending on her face and t-shirt, along with some pickles and onion.
“Fuck!” Sugarcoat exclaimed, pulling the cheeseburger away from her mouth with her left hand, and trying to wipe her t-shirt with her right hand, waving it as if she played a guitar.
“That’s why,” Flash said. Sugarcoat glared daggers at him, chewing her cheeseburger slowly.
“Who said that we’re gonna sleep?” Sandalwood asked. “This is gonna be a long night.”
Indigo shrugged. “What’s that place we’re going to, by the way? Is there something interesting in there?”
“Well…” Bulk said.
The sun was already setting when the van reached the first sign of civilisation in miles. The seemingly endless forest was suddenly replaced by fields located on hillsides on both sides of the narrow road.
Indigo looked through the windows and saw that they were driving towards a small village consisting of a couple of wooden cabins. She saw a board at the side of the road, saying, Welcome to Hooffield. Population: 52. There were several crossed out numbers near the “52”.
“Seems like a lively place,” Indigo muttered, watching a little, dirty girl with curly hair sitting in front of one of the houses. She looked at their car and ran inside of the hut.
“Are we there yet?” Sugarcoat asked.
“Soon,” Bulk replied. The village ended and the road started to climb up the hill. Sandalwood looked at the dashboard, hearing the noises coming out of the engine. The car backfired, but then it was yanked upwards and the engine resumed to work normally.
“Let’s hope we don’t have to go back by foot,” Flash said. “Do you think the locals heard about cars?”
“They still call them ‘horseless carriages’.” Bulk chuckled.
“And the internet is carried from house to house in buckets,” Sandalwood muttered.
“I’d better hide my phone,” Indigo said. “Or else they’ll burn us at the stake.”
“Actually, it’s not that bad.” Bulk pointed at another board, labelled Welcome to Fort McColt. Population: 48. “Third house to the left.”
The van stopped in front of the large, wooden cottage. It looked older and much firmer than the buildings they had seen in Hooffield. Its dark windows were small and looked more like embrasures, and it was surrounded by an oaken fence with a sturdy gate in the middle.
“Lovely.” Indigo opened the door and walked to the gate. She pushed it, but it didn’t budge. Indigo shrugged. “It’s closed.”
Suddenly, she saw some movement in the darkness behind her. She turned, only to see a shovel being swung at her.
“Aargh!” Indigo shouted when the blade of the shovel hit the hinges of the gate with a loud ring.
A purple, freckled girl who emerged from the darkness was two heads taller than Indigo, but her weight was probably more or less the same. Her shirt was tied in a knot in the front, showing an outline of ribs visible under her skin. She had skinny limbs and dark hair resembling a bird’s nest.
“The gate sometimes jams,” the girl said in a slow and overly articulated voice of someone trying to get rid of a speech impediment.
“Ah,” Indigo muttered, backpedalling. “Umm…”
“Buzzsaw!” Bulk exclaimed, getting out of the car and walking to the skinny girl. “Where are your sisters? Indigo, Buzzsaw is my cousin.”
“Here we are, Bulky.” Another girl walked to them. She spoke much faster, her hair was tied in a ponytail, and her skin was more blue than purple, but other than that, she looked exactly like Buzzsaw. She looked down at Indigo and ruffled her hair. “Who are you? A coffee table?”
“Bulk’s girlfriend,” Indigo replied, her face red. “Indigo Zap.”
“Oh, Bulk got a girlfriend?” A third girl walked from behind their car. “When I heard you were bringing Flash and Sandalwood here again, I thought it was one of those guy’s nights again, but I see you brought girls.” She looked at Sugarcoat. “I’m Crosscut McColt, and this is my sister Hacksaw.” She pointed at the blue girl.
“Something must’ve been in that cheeseburger,” Sugarcoat muttered. “That, or hillbillies come in threes now.”
“You have something on your t-shirt,” Buzzsaw said. Sugarcoat looked up to give her a death glare, but Buzzsaw ignored her.
“Okay, ladies.” Sandalwood walked between Sugarcoat and Buzzsaw. “We’re all, like, a bit tired and we’d like to get to know each other better…”
Crosscut chuckled. “Strange, I always thought you were a faggot!”
“If I had a joint for every time I hear that, I’d have…” Sandalwood scratched his dreadlocks. “Hmm, enough to spend twenty years in prison.”
Hacksaw shrugged. “Okay guys, we got you some food, blankets and other stuff in the house. We still have to finish one thing, so we’ll come to you later, okay?”
“Sure,” Bulk replied.
Hacksaw searched the pockets of her shorts and gave Bulk a key. “Have fun.”
“Watch out for the steps,” Crosscut said. “Quick and quiet – it’s a wolf. Slow and loud – a bear. Even town morons should get it.”
“Also lumberjacks?” Indigo asked when the three girls walked away. She pushed the gate open and took a few steps down a short path leading to the door.
“Carpenters,” Bulk replied. “Part-time moonshiners and totally not poachers. As you can see, this place is not exactly civilised.” He opened the door. “It has atmosphere, though.”
Indigo walked inside of the house. Much to her surprise, it had electric light; she’d expected kerosene lamps and an outhouse with old newspapers hanging from the nail in the wall. While there was indeed an outhouse behind the house, a closer inspection revealed a stack of toilet paper rolls inside.
“Looks nice,” Sugarcoat said, standing in the middle of the biggest room and turning around. “There’s even a bear’s skin in front of the fireplace to fuck on.”
“I’m not gonna fuck on a bear’s corpse,” Sandalwood said, sitting on the old couch, half-eaten by clothing moths, and opening his backpack. “Especially not with an audience.”
“Yeah, and I like my eyes and wouldn’t want to gouge them with a spoon.” Flash shuddered. He sat in an armchair, while Bulk and Indigo chose another couch, which crunched dangerously under their weight.
“Eww, sex,” Indigo muttered.
Sugarcoat raised her eyebrows. “Not a fan? So why do you–”
“I’m still seventeen, so I’m fine with cuddling.” Indigo grabbed Bulk’s arm and looked at Sugarcoat. “Not sure why you’re so surprised. You know me.”
“No caffeine, no alcohol, no drugs, no cigarettes, and now no sex.” Sugarcoat rolled her eyes. “Soon you’ll stop eating meat and become the second Sandalwood.”
“I love you too, jackass,” Sandalwood muttered. “Also, are you a masochist?” he asked Indigo.
“I’d say straight edge,” Flash said. “That is, a movement inspired by a song that lasts less than a minute. I mean, once the fans got the lyrics sheet.” He looked at Sandalwood. “You’d know that if your taste in music didn’t get stuck fifty years ago.”
“You know what else lasts less than a minute?” Sugarcoat asked.
“Shut up, Sugarcoat,” Indigo muttered.
“Now I know why we are together.” Sandalwood looked at Sugarcoat. “We are constantly told to shut up.”
Flash sighed. “Shut up.”
“That only confirms the theory.” Sugarcoat sat on the couch next to Sandalwood and embraced him awkwardly. “I don’t know much about romance, but it occurs to me that we may be meant for each other, even though our views are at best incompatible.”
“I sense fights whenever you have to vote,” Flash muttered.
“I sense fights whenever they have to go shopping,” Indigo said. “Or when they eat, sleep, sit in the toilet, breathe, you name it. Sugarcoat does that to people.”
“Oh, I can be nice,” Sugarcoat said. “You just don’t deserve it.”
“Some people are nice no matter if the others deserve it or not.” Bulk poked Indigo. “Well, unless they hit someone in the nuts with a bowling ball.”
“I’ll never live it down, will I?” Indigo rolled her eyes. “That dude was a jackass. And while we are at it, what’s up with your cousins? I’m not that short.”
“Their father is shorter than you, actually.” Bulk chuckled. “But that doesn’t stop Hacksaw. She acts first and thinks later. Assuming that she does at all.”
“So, she and Indigo are soulmates,” Sugarcoat said. “Watch out, it’d suck if your girlfriend ran away with your cousin.”
“No, thanks.” Indigo shuddered. “I’m not into tall, unwashed hillbillies. Especially female ones.”
“Well, Bulk can always mistake his cousins for you.” Sugarcoat raised her eyebrows when she saw the others looking at her. “What? Cousins are totally fine. I first kissed my cousin during the grandma’s funeral and two years later, during the family reunion…” She paused, blushing.
“Yeah, keep digging yourself deeper,” Indigo muttered, chuckling. “Does anyone else have something they want to share?”
“Well, I once had a crush on my cousin…” Sandalwood said. "Well, twice, but I'm talking about the one that didn't try to ruin the mall recently."
“Is she hot?” Flash asked. “Not that I’d like to go out with her.”
Sandalwood smirked. “Well, if you want, I can talk to him...”
Sugarcoat raised her eyebrows, resting her chin on her hand, and looked at Sandalwood. “So, you’re saying you’re not gay…”
“He’ll tell you that it’s all about aesthetics,” Bulk said.
“From now on, I’m always jealous, whether it’s a girl or a guy,” Sugarcoat muttered. “I’d check out your phone, but I already did that. Who is Sweet Leaf?”
“My classmate,” Sandalwood replied. "We're in the debate club together."
“Just testing you, I already checked the internet for her.” Sugarcoat chuckled. "For some reason, she liked the MyStable fanpage of a hospice. I didn't know they had fanpages."
“Is she always like that?” Bulk asked.
“No, but close,” Indigo replied. “And before you ask, I didn’t check out your phone. Like, only Sugarcoat does that. And Sunny Flare, but she doesn’t need your phone to see what’s inside.”
“You have some trust issues in Crystal Prep, don’t you?” Bulk asked.
Before Indigo could reply, they heard someone opening the door. They heard some heavy steps in the corridor.
“Bear?” Flash asked.
“Serial killer.” Indigo grabbed Sugarcoat’s backpack and looked inside. “Damn, you call that a knife?” She froze when someone touched her arm. Her hand with a small knife stopped in the middle of the move when she looked at the attacker.
“Hello,” Buzzsaw said slowly, smiling at Indigo. “I’m not a bear!”
“Great…” Indigo muttered. “Buzzsaw, right? It’s nice to meet you, but stop trying to make me shit myself, okay?”
“Okay.” Buzzsaw lowered her head. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Indigo said. “What brings you here?”
Buzzsaw furrowed her eyebrows. “I brought you something to eat.” She put an apple pie on the couch next to Indigo. “We got it in Hooffield.”
“That’s very nice of you,” Bulk said. “Are Hacksaw and Crosscut going to come here?”
Buzzsaw shrugged. “I think so.”
“I hope they’re not preparing a wicker man to burn us all,” Indigo said, smiling innocently. Buzzsaw looked at her, raising her eyebrows.
Sandalwood chuckled. “You could say that would be some pretty sick burn…”
“We’d better eat the pie,” Flash said, standing up and taking the pie from Buzzsaw. “Hope it’s not burnt…”
The pie wasn’t burnt and soon, they were all sitting on their couches, rubbing their stomachs and licking their fingers. Indigo yawned, curled on the couch with her head on Bulk’s lap.
“So, what are we gonna do tomorrow?” she asked.
“Depends.” Bulk turned to Buzzsaw. “How’s the path to the Old Acorn’s Pass?”
“Not flooded.” Buzzsaw scratched her head and looked at her fingers. “Should be fine.”
“Old Acorn knew where to go to get the best views,” Bulk said. “Brace yourselves, we’re gonna do a lot of climbing tomorrow.”
“I’ll sharpen the knife,” Sugarcoat muttered, smirking.
Indigo pulled the straps of her backpack and stretched her legs. She looked at Sugarcoat, who stood next to her, adjusting the hose of her hydration pack. Sandalwood tied his hiking boots, staring in disbelief at Flash’s trainers.
“If you slip and fall, we’re not gonna carry you around,” he said.
“Not a big difference.” Bulk looked at his enormous backpack. “Though I think they have a helicopter in Tall Tale and can save us in case we get lost.”
“Yeah,” Indigo muttered. “I’d like to fly a helicopter one day... But maybe not in such circumstances.”
“How long a helicopter from Tall Tale would fly to us?” Sugarcoat asked. “I mean, I’ve never heard of such a city before.”
“It’s somewhere near Castle Rock, I guess.” Bulk shrugged, looking at the sky. “The weather seems nice, at least.”
They saw a small, battered jeep approaching them. It seemed that it survived here since the war, repaired with duct tape and wire by endless generations of McColts. Indigo wasn’t sure how it didn’t fall apart after stopping.
“Hello.” Hacksaw got out of the car. Indigo noticed that the driver’s seat had been removed, but the girl was tall enough to drive it while sitting in the back. Hacksaw stood next to her and smirked.
“What’s up?” Indigo asked. “You’re obscuring the sun, you know.”
“Should’ve grown more,” Hacksaw muttered. “Really, there’s too many of you in the town, so you’re all runts!” She patted Indigo’s head.
“Don’t do that,” Indigo said.
“Chill out, Hacksaw.” Bulk cleared his throat.
“Oh please…” Hacksaw rolled her eyes and patted Indigo’s head once again. “Aargh!” She jumped on one leg when Indigo kicked her in the shin. It didn’t end there; Indigo darted forward, ramming her head against Hacksaw’s stomach, knocking her off-balance.
With a loud thud, Hacksaw fell on the dusty path. She tried to get up, only to see one of Indigo’s boots right above her solar plexus.
“Who’s shorter now?” Indigo chuckled.
“Indigo!” Bulk exclaimed.
“What?” Indigo asked. “She started it.”
“But she’s still my cousin,” Bulk said. “Let’s not start a family feud already, okay?”
“Not to mention that she was supposed to drive us to the beginning of the path,” Sugarcoat muttered, watching Hacksaw trying to get bloodstained sand out of her hair. “I guess she’s not fit to do that now.”
“Don’t worry, there’s nothing important in her head,” Indigo said.
Hacksaw stood up and looked at Indigo. “Okay, you’re not such a little shit I thought you were,” she said. “Two more miles of walking will do just fine for you…” With these words, she sat in her car and drove away, leaving them in the cloud of dust.
“Just great,” Sugarcoat muttered. “More walking, just because Indigo is short and can’t suck it up.”
“Yeah, because you’re so tall,” Indigo said. “Also, a little walking can’t hurt. Let’s go.”
For the next two miles, they walked in complete silence. The village soon ended, replaced by the meadows located on hillsides. Indigo smiled, looking at them. Sandalwood also seemed to enjoy the view, until he looked at Sugarcoat, who looked as if a cloud of black smoke was about to burst from her ears.
The dusty road soon changed into a narrow switchback leading upwards between the pine trees. Bulk and Indigo walked in front of the group, followed by Sandalwood and Flash. Sugarcoat stayed a bit behind, panting heavily.
“Wait a minute,” Sandalwood said. “Seems that my girlfriend can’t catch up.”
“Shut up,” Sugarcoat muttered. “I’d catch up if it wasn’t for my asthma.”
“Since when do you have asthma?” Indigo asked. “I mean, you’ve never mentioned it before and you’re pretty good at sports.”
“It’s because of the altitude, idiot.” Sugarcoat coughed. “Also, since my parents are dentists, they’re freaks about hygiene and I spent most of my childhood in a sterile environment, so my immune system got bored of being a rich lazy fuck and started behaving like your sister.” She opened her backpack and dug out an inhaler. “Also, I was born via a c-section, so I had a bigger chance of getting asthma right from the start–”
Indigo groaned. “We really didn’t need that information.”
“I most certainly didn’t,” Sandalwood muttered, looking around. “Girl, this is gonna haunt me now… Can we enjoy this beautiful forest instead?”
“Yeah, and hope Sugarcoat gets lost in it.” Indigo turned to Bulk. ”While I enjoy the view.”
“That wouldn’t be responsible,” Bulk said. “Sugarcoat should go first, so we can adjust to her pace.”
“That’s something I can get behind.” Sandalwood chuckled.
“You wish.” Sugarcoat inhaled her medicine and smirked. “Tonight, I’m gonna be behind you…”
“That’s most definitely something I didn’t want to know…” Indigo sighed.
They walked up the mountain. The sun was high above the horizon when the forest ended, replaced by small bushes covering the rocky ground. Down below them, they could see the distant villages, looking like scattered toy houses in the sea of green and yellow. There was a bigger shape like a dark sun towering above the faraway horizon and surrounded by grey rays of roads – Tall Tale, the biggest city and the capital of the township.
It wasn’t, however, that big. With about fifteen thousand inhabitants and no tall skyscrapers that could be seen from the mountainous path, it looked to Indigo like a glorified village. As far as she knew, there were more people living in midtown where Sour Sweet and Lemon Zest lived than in the whole Tall Tale. Such a town definitely had its good sides, but for now, Indigo preferred the countryside; her boots drummed an even beat on the path as she climbed higher and her arms hurt because of the weight of her backpack. Despite that, she continued to march, wiping sweat from her forehead.
The road was getting more and more steep, even though it was meandering from one hairpin turn to another. Dirt and sand were replaced by large, uneven rocks, some of them moving when Indigo stepped on them. A few miles in front of her, she could see two greyish mountain tops against the blue sky, joined together by a narrow pass. She shuddered, seeing how big they were and how small and insignificant she felt in comparison.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Bulk asked. Indigo only nodded in response. She was only partially aware of Sugarcoat muttering something about the danger of spraining her ankle; Sandalwood said something about carrying her, but for now, Indigo was too busy admiring the view to pay attention to him.
“Earth to Indigo,” Flash whispered into her ear. “And to Bulk too. When you stop staring, you may join us at the lunch.”
Indigo turned back and saw Sugarcoat and Sandalwood sitting on a large boulder and unpacking the food. “Good idea,” she said, taking off her backpack and rubbing her arms.
Bulk sat by the boulder. Indigo joined him, opening a bottle of water and grabbing one of the sandwiches she’d made back in the cottage.
“Just imagine,” Flash said, staring at the clear sky. “If at this moment a nuclear war broke out, we’d be the last people on Earth…”
“Are you high?” Sandalwood asked.
“Look who’s talking.” Bulk chuckled. “But to think about it, that’d be scary…”
“We’d just repopulate Earth, no matter how it’d kick and scream.” Sugarcoat shrugged. “Don’t worry about incest, the radiation would provide quite a genetic variation in our offspring.”
“I’m not sure radiation works that way,” Indigo said. “The guys would just fire blinds. As for me, I’d just stay here, watching the mushrooms. What else would be left to do?”
“Starting a new civilisation?” Sugarcoat shrugged. “If only there’s a stream somewhere here, we’d probably find some resources.”
“We’d never see Lemon, Sour, and Sunny, though.” Indigo sighed. “Or our families.”
Sugarcoat chuckled. “I’m not worried about Sunny. The war would start with her hacking into the nukes and deciding that nuclear winter is the only way to fight global warming.”
“Great job, Sunny Flare,” Indigo swallowed a large bite of her sandwich. “She’d probably sit in the ruins of that ridiculous mansion of hers, watching the world burn.”
“I need to meet your friends one day,” Bulk said. “I mean, I’m not sure which one is Sunny Flare, actually. It’s not that crazy one, right?”
“Who do you mean?” Sugarcoat asked. “All Indigo’s friends are crazy, myself included.” She smiled, baring her teeth.
“The one with a bow,” Bulk replied.
“Hey, she’s hot.” Flash smiled. “How can such a girl be crazy?”
Indigo and Sugarcoat looked at each other. “To think about it, you two would suit each other,” Sugarcoat said. “You two should totally meet.”
“I’d like to see that.” Indigo chuckled. “Also, we should totally get Lemon Zest to organise some wicked party next weekend, before school totally eats our brains.”
“I can get Pinkie Pie too,” Flash said. “First you wouldn’t remember that party, then you wouldn’t be able to forget it.”
Bulk turned to Indigo. “You’ve mentioned dodgeball once. Maybe we can finally play it...”
“I’ll pass, then,” Sandalwood muttered. “I played against Bulk once and then the doctor said that I was lucky my dreadlocks cushioned the blow.”
“You should play with Sugarcoat,” Indigo said. “We call her Blind Justice, since she plays without glasses. No one knows who she’s aiming at. Not even her.”
Sugarcoat rolled her eyes. “Yeah, and it’s totally funny when you all aim at me because I can’t see the balls.”
Sandalwood chuckled. “And now repeat that without the context…”
“Oh, shut up.” Sugarcoat stood up and jumped off the rock. “Okay, I’m ready to go.”
The rest stood up too and walked up the mountain. Soon, the road got even more steep; often, they had to help themselves with their hands to climb further. They could see the pass closer now; the rock was cracked, full of jagged edges, covered with patches of lichen in some places. The path became rather narrow; they had to walk in line. Indigo looked to her left and shuddered, seeing a deep chasm below her, its almost vertical walls littered with rubble. There were some white patches on the rocks; Indigo realised that it was leftover snow that somehow survived until August.
“We’re close,” Bulk said. His arms were covered in sweat, although he was shivering slightly due to cold wind at this altitude. He climbed on the top of the pass and grabbed Indigo’s hand, helping her stand next to him. Soon, they were joined by Flash, Sandalwood and Sugarcoat.
“We did it!” Flash exclaimed.
“Yay.” Sugarcoat rolled her eyes.
“There’s a really nice view down there,” Indigo said, opening her backpack and grabbing a camera.
“If it’s so nice down there, then why did we climb here?” Sugarcoat sat on a large stone and rubbed her leg. “I swear, I won’t be able to walk and you’ll have to carry me around the school.” She grabbed a violet hoodie from her backpack and put it on.
“That’s what happens when all you do is treadmill running,” Indigo said. “You’re just not used to rough conditions.” She put on her jacket. “Though I must say it’s a bit cold out here.”
“Well, the temperature usually drops with altitude, after all,” Flash said. “But I don’t remember how much.”
“In these conditions, one degree Celsius per a hundred metres up,” Sugarcoat replied. “According to that fancy thermometer in our cottage, today in the morning we had twenty one degrees Celsius or seventy Fahrenheit.” She turned to Bulk. “How high above the village are we?”
Bulk scratched his head. “About a mile, I guess.”
Sugarcoat nodded. “That’d be five degrees up here, then. Or…” She furrowed her eyebrows. After a moment of thinking, she just took her phone and tapped her finger against the screen a few times. “Forty one Fahrenheit.”
“Damn.” Sandalwood shuddered. “I prefer warmer climate. Where do we go now?”
“We can either get back the same way, or climb on that mountain over there,” Bulk said, pointing at the massive peak on their left. “There’s a way down on the other side of it.”
Before they reached the top of the mountain, the temperature dropped by another degree. Everyone was already dressed in whatever they brought with them; Sugarcoat nearly fell, trying to fit her hair under the cap, but Sandalwood caught her hand, helping her regain balance. Loose pebbles were slippery, especially for Flash, whose shoes were no match for boots the rest were wearing. He walked behind them as any of his attempts to catch up could result in falling.
Finally, they reached the top. Indigo dropped on the ground, taking deep breaths and trying not to look down due to vertigo. “I’m not scared of heights,” she said when Bulk walked to her. “Seriously, I’m not.”
“You look a bit pale.” Bulk sat next to Indigo and hugged her.
“I’m not scared of heights,” Indigo muttered. “I’m scared of falling… Or not even that. I’m scared of hitting the ground.”
“That’s still like being scared of height,” Sugarcoat said. “Where’s Flash?”
“I see him.” Sandalwood looked beyond the edge of the rock. “He curses his shoes and salutes me with his middle finger.”
“Classy as always,” Bulk muttered, turning to Indigo. “Everything okay?”
“More or less,” Indigo replied, grabbing her camera. “How about a selfie on the top?”
Sugarcoat sighed. “If you really want Lemon Zest to scream and go all like ‘aw’ when she sees it…”
Indigo raised her hand and took a photo of herself and Bulk. “Could you say that again?” She looked at the screen of her camera and took another photo.
“Say what?” Sugarcoat asked.
“‘Aww…’”, Indigo replied.
Sugarcoat rolled her eyes. “Aw.”
“Lemon doesn’t say it that way,” Indigo said. “It’s more like ‘awwwww…’.”
“Ah, I get it,” Sugarcoat muttered. “There’s not enough oxygen here for your brain to function properly.”
“Shut up, Sugarcoat,” Indigo said.
Before Sugarcoat could come up with some witty comeback, Sandalwood turned to them. “Look who’s here!” he exclaimed.
“Shut up, Sandalwood,” Flash muttered, joining them at the top. “I swear, that last bit was the worst. Are we doing any more climbing today?”
“No, just going down.” Bulk pointed at the path starting on the other side of the mountain. Flash looked at it and his jaw dropped when he saw an almost vertical road. There were chains on its side, attached to the rocks with metal pegs.
“Are you sure it’s safe?” Flash asked.
“Of course,” Bulk replied. “That’s what the chains are for. Just don’t let go off it and don’t yank it like a baboon when someone else is holding the same one.”
Flash raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, that’s surely safe.”
Ignoring his concerns, Indigo and Bulk began to walk down slowly, waiting for each other to reach one of the pegs before grabbing a chain in order not to yank it. Sugarcoat and Sandalwood followed them. Flash shrugged and grabbed a chain, swearing under his breath and trying not to look down.
Indigo hissed, slipping down on the chain, leaving bits of her skin on it. “I could’ve taken some gloves,” she muttered.
“Yeah, those would be helpful,” Bulk replied. “Don’t worry, I have bandaids and hydrogen peroxide.”
“I’m fine,” Indigo replied, carefully choosing which stones to put her feet on. Behind her, Sugarcoat decided that dignity couldn’t save her life and was sliding down on her butt, holding the chains so tight that her knuckles whitened.
Indigo slipped down slightly, finally finding a firm rock she could prop her feet against. She wiped sweat from her forehead and inched forwards, carefully looking at the path before her. After a while, she noticed that it got more even. Still, her shins burned with every step and her scratched hand was sending small waves of pain across her arm, not letting her forget about it.
“Don’t worry,” Indigo said, looking down. “It’s better in here. If one of you falls, they won’t die but break their legs on the path below.”
“Still, I think we should’ve gone the other way around,” Sandalwood said. “Like, climb here and then go down the easier way.”
“This is the easier way, on average,” Bulk replied. “Like, after the chains end, there’s a long, boring path that leads across the fields to the village.”
“You do realise that ‘average’ doesn’t work that way?” Sugarcoat groaned. “Also, it’d be easier if I wasn’t scared that Flash or Sandalwood fall on my head.”
“Well, I already fell for you, so falling on you wouldn’t be much worse,” Sandalwood replied.
“Maybe for you.” Sugarcoat sighed and shook her head.
Just like Bulk said, they soon left the wall with chains. The path was still narrow, spiralling down the hill, but it was again surrounded by small bushes, the avant-garde of the pine wood. Indigo walked by Bulk’s side and even Sugarcoat grabbed Sandalwood’s hand, causing Flash to suddenly become very interested in the landscape.
Indigo stopped for a moment to rub her legs and noticed that her muscles were trembling. “I’d never say that walking down is so hard,” she muttered, resting herself against Bulk.
“I can carry you.” Bulk chuckled, grabbing Indigo and putting her on his arm with ease. “Where do you want to go?”
“I’ll walk myself!” Indigo exclaimed, waving her hands. “Let me go!”
“Don’t.” Sugarcoat chuckled. “I like to watch her blush and pout like Lemon Zest.”
“Oh really?” Indigo relaxed in Bulk’s arms and kissed him. “How about that?”
Sugarcoat took her glasses off and turned to kiss Sandalwood. Indigo chuckled, seeing that the romantic moment was somewhat ruined by Flash, who covered his mouth, pretending that he’d puke.
Sugarcoat broke the kiss. “Okay, enough of this faggotry. Let’s go.”
They walked across the forest. The sun moved to the west and nearly disappeared over the horizon before they reached the village, sweaty and exhausted. When they stopped by the cottage, Indigo dropped her backpack and rested herself against the fence, panting. Sugarcoat stood next to her and grabbed her phone.
“We need to take an ‘after’ photo,” she said, looking at the screen. “The natural beauty of unwashed bodies, or whatever hippies fancy… Wait…”
“What?” Indigo asked.
“Apparently we were out of reach in the mountains,” Sugarcoat replied. “I have seventeen missed calls from Sour Sweet.”
Indigo reached to her pocket. “Hmm, she called me twenty one times. Did she get crazier than usual, or what?”
“What’s going on?” Bulk asked, kicking the gate to unjam it.
“We’re about to find out.” Sugarcoat raised her phone and tapped the screen. “Hey, Sour, what’s up? We just came back from a trip and–” Suddenly, Sugarcoat staggered, grabbing the fence and taking a sharp breath. “Holy shit…” She sat on the ground, covering her face and whispering something into the phone.
“What happened?” Indigo asked, shuddering.
“Lemon’s mom died,” Sugarcoat replied.
Flash looked at her. “What?”
“She had leukaemia,” Indigo replied, her voice trembling. “Lemon was still afraid she’d get it too... B-but her mom was getting better...“ She turned to Bulk. “We need to get back!”
Sugarcoat put down the phone. “Sh-she caught cold.”
“A cold?” Sandalwood asked. “How–”
“She had acute myeloid leukaemia, moron,” Sugarcoat replied. “Her immune system barely worked, she got septic shock and–” She sobbed. “Sour s-said that…”
“Damn.” Indigo’s eyes widened. “Lemon was sick...”
“That’s what Sour said,” Sugarcoat muttered, standing up. “We have to go back to town.” She turned to Sandalwood. “Now.”
Sandalwood stifled a yawn. “Unless you want to get us all killed in a crash, we have to wait till tomorrow. There’s that Sour with her, right?”
Indigo wiped her eyes and opened the gate. “Everything about it is worrying,” she said. “But we’ll only make things worse if we have an accident while rushing to her.”
“True,” Sugarcoat replied. “Tomorrow morning, then. Though I’m pretty sure I won’t sleep tonight…” She sighed and walked towards the cottage.
For a while, she thought she was still in the cottage, curled up in a ball by Bulk’s side. Then, she remembered the blur that was the last couple of days of vacation. The long way home; them joining Lemon Zest at the funeral; Lemon, staring into space with her ears covered by headphones.
Indigo turned in her bed and closed her eyes, but at the same time, the alarm of her phone rang. She groaned, realising that it was the first day of the school year.
When she got up and took a shower, she realised that maybe it was for the best; for the last few days, she was either worried, sad, or just staring at the wall of her room, too drained to do anything. Having something to occupy her mind and keep her busy would be a nice change.
She put her uniform on and looked at herself in the mirror. After the whole vacation without it, Indigo thought she looked ridiculous. She lowered her socks and skewed the skirt, before turning around and going to the kitchen.
After some cereal and a big cup of coffee, Indigo was ready to go. She went to the living room to grab her bag and the motorcycle helmet, when she saw her father sitting on the couch.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you to school?” he asked.
Indigo rolled her eyes. “Dad, I’m not in the fifth grade anymore.”
“I’m just worried when you ride a motorbike to school,” he replied. “Lemon Zest–”
“Her mother had cancer,” Indigo said, shuddering. “She didn’t die in a crash. Also, you bought me that motorbike in the first place.”
Her father waved his hand. “Okay, okay. I’m just worried. My on– I mean, my daughter will soon be an adult…”
Indigo nodded. “Yeah. But for now, I have to go to school, dad.”
She walked to the garage and kicked the starter of her motorbike. Soon, she was riding down the street, still thinking about something her father said. Of course, he was worried about Lemon; he knew her mother well, and went to the funeral with Indigo, but there was something else. Indigo noticed that he almost called her his only daughter. Poor Lighting, she thought. Mom and dad don’t even want to think about her. Was it worse than dead parents? Indigo thought so.
She imagined what’d happen if her parents chose to forget about her and trembled. Of course there were her friends and Bulk, but that wouldn’t be the same.
Indigo pushed the brakes, seeing Sunny Flare sitting at the bus stop, her eyes focused on the screen of her wrist devices. “Hello,” Indigo said. “What are you doing?”
“Have you heard of those self-driving cars they’re testing now?” Sunny Flare asked. “Some schmuck in one is gonna have a bad day…”
“That’s why I prefer stuff without computers in it,” Indigo replied. “Get on my bike. I’d rather not be late.”
Sunny Flare sat in the back of Indigo’s motorbike and they drove towards Crystal Prep.
“On a side note, aren’t you afraid that you’ll get caught for hacking?” Indigo asked.
“Oh, please,” Sunny Flare replied. “They can only track me to some third world shithole. And even if that company does find me, remember that my mother is a TV personality. She writes soap operas and was in Late Night with Discord. At best, they may even hire me.”
“Or we’ll never hear from you again.” Indigo chuckled. “If one day you’ll wake up in some basement where masked guys will introduce you to waterboarding, don’t tell that I didn’t warn you.”
“Wait, you mean this sport that is like water skiing, but with one board?”
Indigo groaned. “No, that’s wakeboarding. Waterboarding is…” She looked back at Sunny Flare. “Actually, nevermind.” She turned and focused on the road, taking over the school bus and stopping in front of a zebra crossing to let some excited kids in Crystal Prep uniforms cross the street. As soon as they were safe on the pavement, she twisted the throttle grip, causing the engine to roar, startling them.
Indigo chuckled and turned towards the car park and stopped by the door of the school.
“Showing off to a bunch of second graders?” Sunny Flare shook her head, getting off the motorbike. “Of course. Lessons didn’t even start, but Indigo Zap has to pull off some weird–”
Someone behind her cleared her throat. Indigo and Sunny turned to see Sugarcoat and Sour Sweet approaching them.
“So…” Sour Sweet frowned. “Lemon said she’s not coming to school today.”
“Strange,” Sunny said. “I mean, I don’t remember her saying anything since the funeral.”
Sour Sweet gave Sunny a long, stern look. “She didn’t have to say anything and I understood her.” She sighed. “You too should know when to shut up.”
“Clearly,” Sugarcoat muttered, rolling her eyes behind Sour Sweet’s back. “We’re gonna visit her after school, by the way.” She turned to Indigo. “So, no giving swirlies to freshmen after Cinch’s speech.”
“I never gave any kid a swirly,” Indigo replied. “Except maybe once, in the fourth grade. And it wasn’t even me, it was Sour Sweet.”
“That was eight years ago? Time sure flies,” Sour Sweet said. “Tell anyone about that and your head will end up in the toilet. Separated from the rest of the body.”
“Yeah, Sour, we love you too,” Indigo muttered, looking at the school. “Better get inside. If we’re late, Cinch will have our kidneys for lunch.”
“Do you think she’s still upset about The Friendship Games?” Sunny asked when they walked up the stairs towards the hall.
“‘Upset’ doesn’t even begin to describe it,” Sugarcoat said. “She probably spent her vacation in some dark room, plotting revenge or something.”
They joined the crowd filling the corridors. It seemed that someone polished all the crystal walls before their arrival, but Indigo knew that was a futile task; at the end of the day, they’d be full of fingerprints again, much to the janitor’s annoyance. Misbehaving students were often sent to help with cleaning it; since it happened to her, Indigo preferred not to rest herself against the walls.
By the entrance of the hall, they saw Dean Cadance, who furrowed her eyebrows, looking at Indigo.
“Ms. Zap, pull your socks up,” Cadance said. “I tell you that every day since you started school.”
“Yes, ma’am…” Indigo pulled her socks up and joined her friends. After a while, she looked around and lowered the socks to her ankles again.
“Screw the rules, but only when no one looks, huh?” Sugarcoat deadpanned.
“I can always be like my sister,” Indigo said. “In her only photo in the school uniform, she had two different socks. But they both were full of holes.”
“And look where it took her,” Sunny Flare muttered.
They took their seats in the hall, staring at the stage in front of them. Indigo looked around, searching for familiar faces. She saw the coach. He was busy looking at some particularly interesting crystal, but when he noticed Indigo and her friends, he walked to them; while he wasn’t as muscular as Bulk, his long dark hair and beard made his appearance no less threatening.
“Good morning, Mr. Sombra,” Indigo said.
“Morning,” Mr. Sombra replied. “We have the first soccer training tomorrow after lessons.”
“Sure,” Indigo said.
Sombra frowned. “I can’t see our offensive midfielder with you. Is she okay?”
“Lemon?” Sunny asked. “She… Well, she had a rough time recently…”
“Her mother died, there’s no use beating around the bush,” Sugarcoat said. “She’ll come back when she feels better.”
Sombra nodded. “Hope she gets better before the game with Canterlot High,” he said, turning to walk away. “Oh, by the way, Indigo…”
“Yes?” Indigo asked.
“Remember about preparations to the rowing season in the Spring,” Sombra said. “We’re going to do as much training on the river until it gets too cold. Then we’re switching to indoor exercise. I’ll give you the timetable after the soccer training tomorrow.”
“Sure.” Indigo nodded. Sombra walked away to find the other members of the rowing team.
Sugarcoat smirked. “You get turned on by muscular guys, don’t you?”
“Not him,” Indigo replied. “Like, he didn’t even bat an eyebrow when you told him about Lemon’s mom…”
“Yeah, and he keeps staring at those crystal walls.” Sunny Flare shrugged. “That, or playing with the stair climber machine in the gym.”
“Every PE teacher is a bit weird,” Sour Sweet said. “Some played football without a helmet, some molest their students…”
“Shh!” Sunny Flare looked at the stage. “The speech will start soon.”
“Speech-shmeech,” Sour Sweet muttered. “My sister was also giving speeches but after the archery accident–”
“Yeah, sure.” Sugarcoat groaned. “We checked everywhere and asked everyone, but from your numerous siblings none was ever shot with a bow. You made that up when you ran out of meds or something.”
“But it could happen!” Sour Sweet exclaimed. She wanted to say something else, but she was interrupted by someone clearing throat.
“So, while we are at discipline, Ms. Sour Sweet just earned herself a few hours of polishing the walls,” Principal Cinch said, smiling at Sour Sweet, who smacked her forehead.
“Busted,” Sunny Flare whispered. “Told you so.”
“Fuck that,” Sour Sweet muttered. “We’re going to visit Lemon, remember? And I am going to visit her.”
“Well, to be exact, Principal Cinch never said you’re supposed to clean the walls today.” Sugarcoat smirked. “This probably won’t help you, but you can try.”
Indigo only shrugged, trying to pay attention to the speech. It soon turned out to be impossible; all she could get were some isolated words and phrases, like “healthy rivalry”, “cooperation”, “shaping the future”, and so on. Indigo rested her chin on her hands and blinked, trying to keep herself awake.
A sudden round of applause startled her; she opened her eyes and looked around, standing up with the rest of the students.
“Way to go, Indigo,” Sunny Flare said when the students stopped clapping. “At least you don’t snore.”
“Oh, shut up,” Indigo muttered. The students began to walk around the hall, trying to reach their respective classes to get their new timetables or talk with their teachers. Indigo and her friends walked with the crowd, slowly advancing towards the doors.
“Excuse me!” Some boy with bright violet skin, blue hair and golden rim glasses walked to Indigo. “You’re Lemon Zest’s friend, right?”
“Yeah, what about her?” Indigo asked, still walking with the crowd.
The guy blushed slightly. “Well, we wanted to have the first meeting of the Crystal Prep LGBT Students Club and she’s our treasurer, so–”
Indigo raised her eyebrows. “Wait, we have an LGBT club?”
“If you want to join, the entry fee is–”
Indigo groaned. “No, thanks, I’m straight. But the thing is–”
“Some of our members are straight,” the guy said.
“Yes, but I’m also in the soccer team, rowing team, philosophical society, I go to the gym and also there are days when I like to sit on my ass and do nothing, so thanks for the offer,” Indigo replied. “What I mean is that… Cinch really allowed gay students to meet in school?”
“I know you don’t like her, but she actually did.” The boy shrugged. “Apparently one of the school founders, the one who designed the uniforms really liked to wear them. Especially the skirts.”
Indigo chuckled. “Never heard about that… But yeah, never expected that from Cinch.”
“But if you tried to found The Crystal Prep Magic Society, you’d be burnt at the stake in the name of applying traditional values to the modern world,” Sugarcoat said. Seeing Indigo’s blank stare, she added, “She said something like that in her speech.”
“Ah, sure.” Indigo shrugged. “Luckily, I don’t feel like checking if I have any magic skills. If Twilight started to tear holes in the universe, I’d probably ruin it or something.”
“I’d replace the sun with a black hole.” Sugarcoat smirked, baring her teeth. “Then I’d spend the rest of my life listening to people begging me to turn it back.”
Indigo raised her finger. “If you ever try to learn magic, even once, I’ll make sure to break every single of your bones before you can master it.” She looked into Sugarcoat’s eyes. “I’m serious now.”
“Hey, I wouldn’t be that bad.” Sugarcoat’s smirk faded. “Just imagine what’d happen if Sour Sweet learned magic.”
Indigo shuddered, staring into the distance. “No. Just no.”
Sour Sweet shrugged. “Well, of course I could learn magic to bring eternal peril and suffering on humanity, watching it crawl under my feet… But what’s the point? Humans can do worse things to each other than I can imagine.”
“Magic sucks,” Sunny Flare said. They left the hall and walked down the corridor, getting lost in a crowd of excited first graders, who apparently ended up in the wrong building. Currently, they were trying to solve this problem by yelling and pushing each other.
“Care to elaborate?” Sugarcoat asked, trying not to step on someone.
“Being awesome with magic is easy.” Sunny Flare tripped one of the first graders. He fell on his classmate, causing a fight to break out. “Being awesome without it is way better.”
“Aww, aren’t they the cutest?” Sour Sweet helped one of the kids up. “I hope they all die,” she muttered when they walked away.
Finally they reached the classroom, where they grabbed their timetables, carefully avoiding Fleur dis Lee, who, luckily for them, was busy yelling at someone. They preferred to keep a low profile around her; Indigo wasn’t very much into social media, but she saw enough to know that Fleur didn’t react to the outcome of Friendship Games well.
Their teacher gave a brief welcome speech. Indigo hardly listened to it, staring at the window until Sunny Flare poked her. “Train your attention span a bit,” she whispered. “Ms. Cosinus is talking about important stuff.”
Indigo tuned in to the speech.
“Unfortunately, it’s your last year in this school,” Ms. Cosinus said. “But I firmly believe that you’re now prepared to live your lives to the fullest and become the pride of Crystal Prep and our society.”
“Pride of society, my ass…” Indigo muttered. “I don’t even know how to do my taxes, but I know that ad mortuum defecatum means–”
“Shh.” Sugarcoat furrowed her eyebrows. “You can learn to do your taxes in five minutes on the internet. Be an adult and don’t trust school on everything.”
“Let’s get out of here,” Sour Sweet whispered. “Before some little shit reminds Cinch that I’m supposed to polish the walls.”
Right after the speech ended, they sneaked out of the class and went to the car park. Indigo and Sunny sat on Indigo’s motorcycle while Sugarcoat sat in a small, funny car Sour Sweet’s parents gave to their daughter when, after a long discussion between her doctor and the officials, she got a driving licence.
“Just don’t challenge her to a race,” Sunny said when Indigo turned on the engine. “She may run us over if she loses.”
“Oh, please.” Indigo rode towards the street. “She drove me somewhere once and I must say she’s the safest driver I know. Nothing can be done about her swearing at the wheel, though.”
They drove to the city centre, to one of the loft apartments adapted from the buildings of an old factory. Indigo liked those blocks of red brick; her father told her that when he was young, they were mostly inhabited by artists, painters and musicians like Lemon Zest’s parents, as well as some strange types, moonshine makers, weed farmers, or self-taught chemists.
Nowadays, however, they lost some of its bohemian character; gypsy kids and vagabonds from the past grew older and their children were hipsters more often than starving artists. Some, like Sour Sweet’s parents, had nothing to do with the previous inhabitants, unless one counted psychiatry as a form of art.
Indigo parked her motorcycle by the pavement and walked between the two buildings. She saw a couple of Canterlot High students coming back from school there. A green-haired girl with a beret, who, as Indigo remembered, used to work in a cafe, was talking with a taller girl with her hair tied in a brown bun and a pair of red earrings. A group of kids was drawing something with chalk on the pavement.
Indigo, Sunny, Sour Sweet, and Sugarcoat walked past them to the staircase and began to climb to the third floor, accompanied by cello music coming from one of the flats.
“There we are.” Sour Sweet sighed and knocked on the door.
“Come in!” someone exclaimed. Sour Sweet pushed the door open and walked inside.
Lemon Zest’s father was sitting in the living room. Indigo noticed that he looked much better than during the funeral, though he still shuddered when he saw them. His guitar was lying on the couch, as if thrown there, but other than that, the room was in a pristine condition.
“Good afternoon,” he said, immediately lowering his voice to a whisper. “She’s still in her room. Sour, I talked with your mom. She said she’ll come to talk with Lemon… But I think you’d better do it too… As her friends.”
“Sure.” Sour Sweet nodded. “My mother never managed to fix me, so I don’t think she’d help,” she whispered on their way to Lemon’s room.
“Sour, shut up,” Sunny Flare muttered. “And you too, Sugarcoat. Your attempts at cheering people up are the leading cause of suicide or something.”
“I didn’t even say anything,” Sugarcoat replied, opening the door of Lemon Zest’s room.
The interior was dim; the curtains were shut and for a moment, they couldn’t see anything. Only after a while, their eyes got used to darkness, recognising more and more shapes. Large bed, speakers, some boxes, a punching bag hanging from the ceiling, and various other strange things littered the room.
“Too quiet,” Indigo whispered. “I don’t like it.”
“I can’t see her,” Sunny Flare said. “You don’t think she did… something, umm…”
“If she jumped out of the window, we’d hear those kids screaming.” Sugarcoat stood by the window and moved the curtain aside. “She’d ruin their chalk drawing.”
“There are many more methods of suicide.” A faint smirk appeared on Sour Sweet’s face. She walked to the closet and opened it. “Peekaboo!”
“Sour, for the love of–” Indigo stood next to Sour Sweet and looked into the closet.
Lemon Zest was sitting inside, her knees under her chin. Her unkempt hair was obscuring her face completely; her ears were covered by headphones.
Sunny Flare pushed Indigo and Sour Sweet aside. “Umm, so…” She looked at Lemon Zest. “The school year started.” She looked at Indigo and poked her. “I mean… We’d be really glad if you left this place… Umm… talked with us…”
“And you’re saying I’m not helpful.” Sugarcoat rolled her eyes.
“She can’t hear you anyway,” Indigo said, pointing at the headphones.
“She can,” Sour Sweet replied. “Guess she ran out of songs on her playlist a while ago.” She walked into the closet, sat next to Lemon Zest and embraced her.
Sugarcoat raised her eyebrows. “Do you think it’ll help?”
“More than her talking,” Sour Sweet pointed at Sunny Flare. “I’ve been sitting with her like that before school and I’m gonna stay here until the evening. You can leave if you want.”
“I’m not leaving her either.” Indigo sat next to Lemon and hugged her. “Umm… Lemon?” she whispered. “It’s me, Indigo. You know that we really miss you, right? And that you always have us?” She looked at Sugarcoat and Sunny Flare, but they kept distance, staring at her unsurely.
“Lemon, talk to me,” Sour Sweet whispered. “Your dad needs you. I need you.”
“We all do,” Indigo said. “You can’t sit here mourning for the rest of your life.”
Lemon Zest muttered something incomprehensible that ended in a weep.
“Yes?” Sour Sweet said.
“I’m getting over it,” Lemon whispered. “B-but… My grandma was sixty-five when she got sick and d-died… And my mom was forty-five…” She shuddered, grabbing Sour Sweet tighter. “I don’t want to die…”
“Ah, I see,” Sugarcoat said. “You figured out, by analogy, that you have seven more years to live. And you’re now wasting them sitting here.”
“And what happened then?” Bulk asked. Indigo lay on her bed with her phone in her hand, staring at the ceiling. Her school clothes were scattered around her room, apart from her shirt, one sock and tracksuit trousers she had swapped her skirt for.
“She kicked us out,” Indigo replied. “And I mean it. Not the usual ‘Lemon cries, Sour Sweet threatens to murder everyone’ crap. She stood up and… That was kinda scary. I’ve never seen her like that.”
“Damn,” Bulk muttered. “And what now?”
“I think Sour Sweet stayed with Lemon,” Indigo said. “She texted me, asking to keep her away from Sugarcoat tomorrow or she’s not responsible for her actions.”
“Those two must really like each other, huh?” Bulk asked. “Lemon and Sour, I mean.”
“Kinda.” Indigo sighed. “Damn. First day at school and I already wish it was over.”
“Well, it seemed rather rough,” Bulk said. “Looks like you could use some relaxation.”
“Yeah,” Indigo replied, yawning. “We need to meet soon. Maybe after my soccer training tomorrow?”
“Sure. Tomorrow, then.”
“Love you,” Indigo whispered into her phone and hung it up. A few minutes later, she was asleep.
Indigo stretched her arms before walking on the pitch. Even though she’d spent most of the day on her lessons, the sun was still high. She turned back to see the rest of the team, dressed in tracksuits, shirts of random football teams, or whatever t-shirts they grabbed in the morning. Indigo sighed. In two weeks, they had to come to CHS looking like the professional team.
She noticed lack of a couple of older girls who had finished school. Just when she thought who’d replace them, someone threw a ball at her. It bounced off her forehead and flew up, but then it was under Indigo’s control. She let the ball fall a bit, then kicked it up with her knee, letting it bounce off her chest and fall on her foot, using it to send the ball up right in time to kick it in the direction from which the ball had been thrown at her.
“Nice,” Sour Sweet said when the ball hit Sunny Flare in the face, sending her on the ground. “Do you think we have to mercy kill her?”
“I’d tell you to go and fuck a baboon, but that’d be incest,” Sunny Flare muttered, her face red. She stood up. “You need to work on your aim, Indigo. I didn’t throw that ball at you.”
“Yeah, sure,” Indigo replied. “I was just thinking about the team. Some girls left, after all.”
“Yeah, and we have a big hole in the middle,” Sunny Flare said. “Like, Lemon won’t play and that angry ruffian who was the defensive midfielder finished school.”
“Well, there’s always Frosty Orange.” Sour Sweet pointed at the girl with light blue hair, who placed the ball a bit outside of the penalty area and kicked it towards the goal. Fleur dived, tipping the ball with her fingers. It bounced off the post and flew outside the field.
“That was close,” Indigo said, grabbing another ball. She was about to send it towards the goal kept by Fleur, but at the same time, she heard a whistle. Turning, she saw Mr. Sombra walking towards them. He wore a white, tight t-shirt that made some of the younger girls blush; Indigo, however, only shrugged at that.
“Hello,” Mr. Sombra said. “I see you’re all in a good form after vacation.”
“Well, except Lemon, but she stopped being important once it turned out she couldn’t play,” Indigo whispered to Sugarcoat, who didn’t reply, too busy wincing due to contact lenses she wore when playing.
“Soon, we’ll get the whole information about CHS’ tactics and line-up,” Mr. Sombra continued. “But first, we need to think about our own rooster. May I introduce you our new defensive midfielder, Suri Polomare!”
Indigo looked at Suri Polomare. She was short, especially when standing up next to Fleur and Sour Sweet, two tallest players in the team. A smirk adorned her face; Indigo thought that she looked like a terrier belonging to an old lady who, due to being given too much attention, developed a really nasty character.
“Is she gonna bite people in the knees, or what?” Sunny Flare asked.
“We’ll see.” Indigo dropped the ball to her feet.
Fleur ran to the goal, from where she started to shout at the defenders. Indigo looked at the whole formation: Upper Crust on the right, Ginger Owlseye on the left, Sugarcoat and Melon Mint in the middle. Suri Polomare stood slightly in front of them, still smirking at Indigo.
“Your task is to pass through the defences and score a goal,” Mr. Sombra said to Indigo. She walked slightly to the right side of the pitch, letting Sour Sweet take the left side. Sunny Flare stood even more to the left, by the sideline. On the other side of the pitch, a redhead called Orange Sherbette was getting ready to run down the right wing.
“Okay.” Indigo passed the ball to the back, to Frosty Orange, and rushed forward, waiting for a pass. Melon Mint immediately ran to her, but Indigo changed her position, looking for a way to lose her.
She saw that Frosty Orange had passed the ball to Orange Sherbette, who now ran past Ginger Owlseye, turned near the corner of the pitch and crossed the ball. Sour Sweet smirked. She was much taller than Suri, who stood next to her, and Sugarcoat was too far away to help. Indigo ran into the penalty area, knowing that Sour Sweet would knock the ball down there with her head.
She spun to receive a pass, but the ball didn’t come. Indigo looked down the pitch and that Suri, having no other way to win a header against Sour Sweet, had jumped at grabbed her arms, bringing her down. The ball, not bothered by any of them, flew to the left wing and ended up on Sunny Flare’s chest.
“Foul!” Indigo exclaimed.
“Play on!” Mr. Sombra pointed at Sunny Flare, who made full use of the confusion of defenders, dribbling the ball past Upper Crust and Sugarcoat. Indigo nodded. They still had ball and it’d be easier for them to score than from a free kick. She ran out of the penalty area, leaving Melon Mint behind, but Sunny had another idea, rushing towards the goal. Fleur was quick off her line, running towards the ball.
“Damn!” Indigo exclaimed when Sunny tried to send Fleur the wrong way, only for the ball to sting the keeper’s hand and bounce off towards her. Indigo brought the ball down with her chest and was ready for another shoot, but at the same moment she felt a sharp pain in her ankle and fell face-first to the grass.
“How’s your sister?” someone whispered to her. She looked up and saw Suri, standing up after the sliding tackle. “Guess you may join her in prison one day.”
“Fuck off,” Indigo muttered, standing up. She grabbed the ball and put it on the ground in front of her – this time, they got a free kick.
“I guess you’d be very popular in there.” Suri smirked and walked off to take place in the wall in front of Fleur’s goal, hardly listening to Mr. Sombra telling her to be less brutal.
Sour Sweet stood by Indigo’s side. “May I shoot?” she whispered to her. “I need to break that little whore’s nose.”
“You too?” Indigo asked.
“She said they should lock me up,” Sour Sweet replied. “Dunno why. I’m normal, right?” She smiled, baring her teeth. “I am normal.”
“You know? I’ll do that.” Indigo pointed at the wall, consisting of Melon Mint, Suri, and Sugarcoat. “You’re a bit, umm… angry… You could accidentally hit Sugarcoat.”
“I can live with that,” Sour Sweet growled. “She pissed me off too recently.”
“Melon is innocent, though.” Indigo sighed. “And I can kick stronger.”
“Okay.” Sour Sweet shook her head. Indigo looked at the ball and took a few long, well-measured steps back. Normally, she’d watch the goal and where Fleur was, but this time, it was different. She looked at the wall again, noting the positions of the players. Sour Sweet stood by her side, but it was only to confuse the defenders.
Mr. Sombra blew a whistle. Sour and Indigo rushed towards the ball, but Sour jumped over it. Indigo noticed that at the same moment Suri lowered her head a bit, as if trying to dodge. Nevertheless, she kicked the ball with all her might. It flew into the air, slipping between Suri’s hands and hit her in the solar plexus.
Suri let out a stifled scream and fell on her back. The ball flew above her and was effortlessly caught by Fleur.
“You did that on purpose!” Mr. Sombra shouted, while Suri tried to catch her breath. “What is wrong with you today?” He groaned. “Guess we could use a short break.”
“Yeah,” Indigo muttered. “Guess I’ll go to our teammate and apologise.” She gestured Sour Sweet towards herself and they both walked to Suri, who had been helped up by Sugarcoat.
“Can we have a talk?” Indigo embraced Suri and walked with her to the side of the pitch, accompanied by Sour Sweet. “About team spirit.”
Suri muttered something incomprehensible. The only word Indigo caught was “cunt”.
“Whatever,” Indigo said. “Care to explain what was that?”
“I want to provoke the opposing team,” Suri replied. “I see that it worked.”
“Provoke?” Indigo smirked and looked at Sour Sweet. “Indeed. But stick to the opposing team, okay? Remember that we’re teammates.”
“We think as a team. We are one,” Sour Sweet said. “If not, then, well…”
“That reminds me.” Indigo looked into Suri’s eyes. “Sour, remember that girl who wanted to be in the team, but then called you and Lemon ‘a psychotic lesbo and her fucktoy’?”
“Sure.” Sour Sweet gave Suri a heavy glare. “You know what happened to her?”
“No,” Suri replied, trying to free herself from Indigo’s embrace.
“She had an unfortunate accident,” Indigo said. “She… slipped in the showers and bashed her forehead against the tap.”
“And sprained her ankle.” Sour Sweet smiled.
“Really?” Indigo looked at her. “I don’t remember that part. But while we are at it, try not to injure your teammates before the game, okay? You could’ve broken my leg.”
“That was after you left the showers,” Sour Sweet said. “Along with a few more things…” She patted Suri’s shoulder. “Are we cool?”
Suri had to look up for her eyes to meet Sour’s. “Yeah, we’re cool,” she replied quickly.
“Good.” Sour Sweet smirked. “Welcome to the team. We’ll keep an eye on you…”
Suri nodded and ran away, seeing that the break was about to end. Indigo turned to Sour Sweet and shook her head. “Do you think we’ve been a little too harsh?”
“No,” Sour Sweet replied. “I still hate her.”
Indigo opened her mouth to say something, but Sour Sweet already ran off, chasing the ball. Shrugging, Indigo followed her.
The sun was still up when Indigo’s motorcycle stopped in front of the large wooden house. Indigo looked around to see if Ruby wasn’t creeping somewhere in the shadows. Having not seen her, she walked to the door and knocked.
The door opened. “Hi, Indy.” Bulk embraced Indigo and kissed her. “How was your day?”
“Fine,” Indigo replied, walking inside with him. “More or less.”
Bulk chuckled. “More or less?”
Before Indigo could reply, they walked into the living room. Indigo saw someone she didn’t expect in there – a short, skinny boy sitting on the couch and browsing some photos on a tablet.
“My little brother, Featherweight,” Bulk said.
“I can’t imagine how he got this name,” Indigo muttered.
Featherweight raised his head and smiled. “So, you’re my brother’s girlfriend?” He raised his tablet and took a photo, blinding Indigo with a flash. “Nice,” he purred, looking at the result. “I also do professional photo shoots, so if you are interested–”
“I have a friend, her name is Sour Sweet,” Indigo said. “She’d be more than happy to become your model.” She turned to Bulk and whispered, “Any other family members I should meet?”
“Well, my two older brothers don’t live here anymore,” Bulk said. “And my parents are leaving–”
At the same moment, Indigo heard steps of someone going downstairs. She turned in that direction and raised her eyebrows.
Bulk’s father didn’t look like Indigo had imagined. He was rather short and while he was slim and muscular, he still looked like an older version of Featherweight. Bulk’s mother, however, was completely different. With her blue-ish skin and quite an impressive height, she resembled Bulk’s cousins, but was probably heavier than all three of them combined. And, much to Indigo’s surprise, most of it was muscles.
“Welcome,” Bulk’s father said. “Bulk told me about you. Lightning Zap’s daughter, huh? One of the best quarterbacks I’ve seen in my life.” He looked at Indigo’s uniform. “Crystal Prep? Who’d say? Back in my days, we hated each other with passion.”
“Well, it got better recently,” Indigo replied. “I think.”
Bulk’s father nodded. “Yeah, I know. No longer a glorious rivalry… You know, back in my days, we managed to slip a girl of, umm… questionable morals into one of your parties. Those thirty Crystal Prep guys never knew what hit them when they all suddenly felt itch in their–”
“I think that’s enough, Hamstring,” Bulk’s mother muttered. It sounded like starting an engine of an oil tanker. “Also, we’re going to be late.”
“Well, of course we’d never do that now,” Hamstring said, looking around nervously. “I mean, it was before that monkey virus and we didn’t quite watch out when, umm…”
“Dad…” Bulk muttered, his face red.
“Oh yeah, my sister’s birthday.” Bulk’s father looked at his wife. “We have to go now, so have fun, kids.”
“Sorry for him,” Bulk muttered as soon as the door closed behind his parents.
“He’d get on well with my dad,” Indigo said. “He likes telling embarrassing stories from my childhood.”
“We must keep them away from each other,” Bulk said. “Featherweight!”
Featherweight looked away from his tablet. “Yes?”
“We’re going upstairs.”
“Are you gonna have sex?”
“No.” Bulk shook his head. “How about you and Ruby, by the way?”
“Should I repeat what she told me when I asked her out?” Featherweight blushed.
“No, I can imagine that.” Bulk walked up the stairs. Indigo followed him, listening to the creaking of the wooden boards. The whole house looked pretty cosy, especially in comparison with cold crystal walls of her school. Indigo smiled, relaxing.
“I cleaned it a bit,” Bulk said, opening the door to his room. “But it’s still somewhat cramped.”
Indigo didn’t mind. She sat on the chair in front of a small desk and turned around on it, watching the room. One half of it was stacked with weights of various shape and colour. On the opposite side, there was a bed as well as a shelf with some books and a violin case. A few movie posters and gym motivational quotes were hanging from the walls.
“Looks nice,” Indigo said. “So, how was your day?”
“Not bad,” Bulk replied. “Cloudy Kicks went mad when she heard we’re together. She’d like to meet you.”
“Who the hell is Cloudy Kicks?” Indigo asked.
“The head of Norman’s harem.” Bulk chuckled. “You know, the bowling alley guy.”
“Ah, this one.” Indigo smirked, resting herself against the back of the chair. “Guess she didn’t take that bowling ball well…”
“She says they’ll destroy you in the soccer match,” Bulk said. “And by the way, never call it ‘soccer’ when Octavia can hear you. Unless you want to hear a very British rant.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Indigo muttered. “I’m not sure what gave her the idea that they stand a chance against us. I’ve seen the girls today and I simply know that we’ll destroy you.”
“Sure.” Bulk shook his head. “It’ll be Crystal Prep syndrome all over again. You have no chance.”
“We have, if you don’t use any magic.” Indigo pouted. “Also, what syndrome?”
“No magic, I promise,” Bulk replied. “The girls too. And by syndrome, I mean that first you play with us, then Sunnydale High comes to you, then you go to play with Grove Hill, another home match with Midtown High School, then Pearl Bailey High School, and so on. I’ve noticed you prepare to every match like it was the decisive battle to save the universe and by the end of the season you crack.”
Indigo raised her eyebrows. “We do?”
“Yes.” Bulk nodded. “Every year you fizzle out. Losing 6:0 with those hacks from New Salem in the semi-final last year? Really?”
Indigo blushed. “We all got food poisoning after reaching New Salem. And it was their work.”
“You wouldn’t play with them if you did better in the regular season. And you could do better.”
Indigo sighed. “Okay, we were a bit tired. With Friendship Games too. But we won when I was in the team for the first time. I played for maybe an hour in the entire season and scored only one goal, but it was in the final match and–” She paused, seeing that Bulk was laughing. “What?”
“High school soccer is a serious business, I see.” Bulk smiled.
“In Crystal Prep everything is a serious business.” Indigo sighed. “And to think that I almost considered dropping out…”
“You did?” Bulk raised his eyebrows. “I always thought you love this school.”
“I do,” Indigo replied. “The thing is, you can get a pilot’s licence when you’re seventeen and I always wanted to be a hospital helicopter pilot. I wouldn’t have time for that with school and all…”
“So you wanted to leave school and become a pilot?” Bulk looked at Indigo. “That sounds crazy.”
“Well, it lasted about five minutes,” Indigo replied. “Then Sunny Flare told me that it’d be better to become a paramedic first.”
“True.” Bulk nodded. “Meanwhile, I have no idea what to do after school. Probably not being a lumberjack.”
“Weightlifting?” Indigo shrugged. “I mean, you could do it professionally…”
“Nah, I prefer to be clean,” Bulk replied. “I was thinking about music, but I’m not good enough to play in a professional orchestra, like Octavia.”
“There are always folk metal bands.” Indigo chuckled. “You’d get a fancy leather clothes and sing about vikings.”
Bulk smiled. “Leather clothes? That’s some interesting kink…”
Indigo nearly choked, blushing. “What?” She shook her head. “I don’t have any… kinks.”
“Oh really?”
“Okay, maybe,” Indigo replied.
“Barbarians in furs?” Bulk asked.
Indigo raised her eyebrows. “Maybe.”
“That explains why you keep beating people,” Bulks said. “Body of a schoolgirl, soul of Genghis Khan.”
“What?” Indigo exclaimed. “I don’t beat people that often… I mean, I didn’t beat Suri Polomare today…”
“Who’s she?” Bulk asked.
“Some bitch.” Indigo shrugged. “She started, though, but Sour Sweet and I told her a cautionary tale…” Suddenly, she shuddered.
“What’s going on?” Bulk asked.
“Nothing.” Indigo waved her hand. “I mean...“
“What?”
“Well...“ Indigo cleared her throat. “There was one girl who moved out of the town after she had, umm… a small argument with me and Sour Sweet. Mostly Sour Sweet, though.”
“And what happened?”
“Well, umm…” Indigo shook her head. “You’re gonna hate me for that.”
Bulk walked to Indigo and embraced her. “I’d never hate you. After all, you didn’t throw this girl out of the window, did you?”
“Of course not,” Indigo replied, getting up from the chair and sitting on the bed next to Bulk. “I mean… Well, I punched her in the showers…”
“Typical for you, I’d say.” Bulk shook his head. “Have you ever thought about anger management?”
“Oh, I stopped being angry when I saw her bleeding,” Indigo replied, her voice faltering. “But I still left her there with Sour Sweet. I never asked Sour what she did to her, but I’d rather not know.”
Bulk nodded, holding Indigo closer.
“I screwed this up, didn’t I?” Indigo sighed.
Bulk nodded again. “Well…”
Suddenly, the door bursted open and Featherweight walked inside. “Hello!” he exclaimed.
“You should knock,” Bulk muttered.
Featherweight looked at Indigo. “Why should I knock when you don’t, bro?” He shrugged. “Anyway, since you’re not doing anything interesting, maybe you’d want to eat some junk food and play Carnage Corps II: Corpse Harder?”
Indigo raised her eyebrows. “I’m not sure it’s a game for kids under eighteen.” She looked at Bulk, hearing him chuckle. “Yes, I know, but I’ll be eighteen in a month, not six years.”
“Five,” Featherweight muttered. “Also, I got a special Banana Holocaust edition…”
“Featherweight…” Bulk shook his head.
Featherweight smirked, pointing at Indigo. “And I’m sure I’m better than you.”
Indigo’s eyes lit up. “Oh, really? You wish, kid…”
“Indigo?” Are you okay?” Sunny Flare asked. Indigo turned to her, blinking as she saw the screen of her wrist device, with a large headline saying, Rise of The Machines: Self-Driving Car Goes Loose, Injuring Six.
“Yeah…” Indigo yawned. “Haven’t slept well.”
Sunny smirked, wiggling her eyebrows. “Is it because of some muscular gentleman?”
“Not really,” Indigo muttered. “More like his brother. We played computer games, then my parents got pissed at me for not picking up their calls and then again, for waking everyone up with my motorcycle at 2 AM. But at least I won with that little motherfu–” Indigo paused, seeing Principal Cinch walking down the corridor nearby.
“What did you play?” Sunny asked.
Indigo rubbed her eyes. “Corpse-something. I got an achievement for ripping out ten hearts in a row. And another one for eating them. And one called ‘Heart Transplant’ for punching a guy’s heart out while holding another heart.”
Sunny Flare nodded slowly. “How old is Bulk’s brother?”
“Thirteen, I guess?” Indigo scratched her head. “I need some energy drink or something…”
“Ah.” Sunny shook her head. “Your intellectual level, then.”
“Gimme a break,” Indigo muttered.
“Never. I had to take the bus because of you today.” Sunny Flare shuddered. “Can you imagine that?”
“I’m tempted to stop driving you to school now.” Indigo yawned again and rubbed her eyes. “Unless you enjoy dying in a crash because your driver is falling asleep.”
“I’d keep you awake,” Sunny Flare said.
“By making me want to punch you?” Indigo asked. “Besides, buses are good for environment. And look, you’re not late.” She looked around. “A propos: where’s Sour Sweet?”
Sunny Flare shrugged.
A loud cry threw Sour Sweet awake. She rubbed her temples and rolled out of her bed, landing on the floor. Looking up, she saw a pair of yellow feet standing by her.
“Sweeten Sour…” she muttered. “Am I hearing things or is there a crying kid at home?”
Sweeten Sour looked down at her older sister and smiled. “The twins realised that we’re out of cereal. Sweet Dreams is being dramatic while Sour Grapes just eats sandwiches. Nothing ever bothers that guy.”
“Tell Sweet Dreams that if she wakes me up again, I’ll tell mom and dad to leave her in the orphanage.” Sour Sweet gritted her teeth. “Where are they?”
“Dad’s having a night shift in the nuthouse and he’s not back yet,” Sweeten Sour replied, grabbing her cheerleading outfit and packing it in a bag. “Mom and Sour Patch are trying to calm Sweet Dreams down.”
Sour Sweet sat on her bed, resting her head against her hands. Having to keep up with the chaos in her head wasn’t easy with four siblings.
“You okay there, sister?” Sweeten Sour asked, leaning towards Sour Sweet. “C’mon, we’re gonna be late to school and I have to practice cheerleading before the match, you know–”
“Shut up,” Sour Sweet muttered. “I know there’s a match. I’ll play in it and if you keep practicing cheerleading in our room, I’m gonna take this stick of your and shove it–” She was interrupted by her brother Sour Patch, who walked into the room.
“Hey, we could be naked!” Sweeten Sour exclaimed, covering herself despite being dressed in pajamas. “Also, sister, it’s called a twirling baton.”
“Sweet Dreams doesn’t want to get dressed to go to the kindergarten,” Sour Patch said. “Sour Sweet, could you help? She seems to listen to you more…”
“Well, maybe that’s because I take care of the twins most,” Sour Sweet muttered. “Because our parents are too busy for that.”
“Don’t mind her, she’s exceptionally sour today,” Sweeten Sour smirked at Sour Patch.
“Should I shoot you with my bow again?” Sour Sweet growled, getting up and grabbing a sleeping gown. “Even though I swore it’d never happen…”
“You never did,” Sweeten Sour replied. “You thought you shot me during…” She shuddered and looked at Sour Patch.
“That one time when you got cra–” Sour Patch backpedalled, seeing the look Sour Sweet gave him. “Sick. I meant sick.”
Sour Sweet sighed and walked out of the bedroom belonging to her and Sweeten Sour. The first thing she saw in the kitchen was her brother Sour Grapes, sitting on his chair and watching Sweet Dreams lying on the floor and crying with as much disdain as it was possible in a five-year-old.
“Let me guess,” Sour Sweet said, looking at her mother. “She’s throwing a tantrum again?” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “That’s because you’re a fat slob with with overgrown ego who can’t raise a child properly…”
“What did you say?” Sour Sweet’s mother asked.
“Nothing.” Sour Sweet knelt down by her youngest sister. “Hey, kiddo. You okay there?” she whispered. “Dunno how about you, but we’re gonna get your brother to the kindergarten. You’d better go too. Or else you’ll have to stay with mommy and she has some bright ideas. Like that one time when I was your age and she started to put me in beauty pageants.”
Sweet Dreams looked at her sister unsurely.
“So yeah, put on your shoes and go to kindergarten.” Sour Sweet smiled and helped Sweet Dreams up. The girl put on her shoes and focused on tying them, furrowing her eyebrows and sticking her tongue out.
“Very well,” Sour Sweet said when Sweet Dreams was done. “Now, go with mom and Sour Grapes to the car, okay? I have another baby to talk to.”
She stood up and walked back to her room. There, she got dressed, grabbed her bag, and left the flat, ignoring Sweeten Sour and Sour Patch, who were eating breakfast. Paying no attention to the rumbling in her stomach, she went two floors down and knocked on the door of another flat.
“Oh, it’s you,” Lemon Zest’s father said when he saw her. “Lemon is slightly better, I’d say. She doesn’t sit in the closet anymore.”
Sour Sweet nodded. Despite his words, she could clearly see his nervous moves when he gestured her inside. She walked into Lemon Zest’s room, avoiding looking at him.
The room was dark again, but this time Sour Sweet could see Lemon Zest lying on her bed, her face buried in a pillow. Sour Sweet sat next to her and patted her back.
“Hey, Zesty,” she said. “I just convinced my little sister to go to the kindergarten, so I guess it should be easier with you, right?”
Lemon Zest didn’t reply, although a louder inhale meant that she acknowledged Sour Sweet’s presence.
“Listen, Lemon, you can’t sit here forever.” Sour Sweet sighed. “This sucks, I know. Guess you feel like me when I got my first meds and my mood was a total, absolute zero. Like, nothing at all, really.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Lemon Zest whispered, still hiding her face. “I’ll get out… next week, I guess.”
“Next week?” Sour Sweet rolled her eyes. “Listen, I’m sacrificing for you here. I gave up my breakfast and every minute I don’t spend with my dumb siblings, I sit with you here. Next week? And I’m–” She paused and took a deep breath. “Lemon, you could at least look at me when I’m talking…”
Lemon shuddered and turned her tear-stained face towards Sour Sweet. “You’d better not come here, Sour. I… I feel better when you’re here, but you seem worse every time you come. I mean… I’ll manage. You’d better take care of yourself.”
“What?” Sour Sweet’s hands trembled. “What do you mean by that?” She grabbed the front of Lemon’s pajamas and raised her to her eye level. “Listen, all I want is your happiness, but you’re definitely not helping! Why are you sending me off? After everything I’m doing for you! You…” She raised her hand. Lemon Zest cowered on her bed, trying to free herself from Sour’s grasp, but at the same time Sour Sweet released her, recoiling and staring at her hands.
“I… I shouldn’t have come here…” Sour Sweet muttered. “I’m… not feeling well…” She turned around and ran across the room.
“Sour Sweet, wait!” Lemon Zest exclaimed, but Sour Sweet already stormed out of her flat. She rushed down the stairs and stopped by her car, panting. It took her a while before she found her keys and another one before she managed to open the door and sit inside.
“Fuck!” She banged her hands against the steering wheel and rubbed her temples. She looked at herself in the rear mirror and took a deep breath. “You just had to screw up everything! No wonder everybody hates you...” She turned on the engine and drove away, nearly hitting a kid drawing something on the pavement with chalk.
A few minutes later, after forcing the right of way twice and running the red light, Sour Sweet parked by the school. She got out of the car, slammed the door shut and rushed to the building. The bell had already rung and most of the students were walking into the classrooms. Some guy with glasses, however, saw Sour Sweet and joined her.
“Hello,” he said, trying to keep up with her. “I thought that since Lemon Zest can’t be our treasurer, maybe you’d join The LGBT Club and–”
“Fuck off, I don’t feel like being any letter,” Sour Sweet muttered. “I mostly feel like myself.” She opened the door to the class and sneaked inside, hiding between people who didn’t take their seats yet.
“Hello,” she said, taking a seat next to Indigo and Sunny Flare – during physics lessons Sugarcoat was not very talkative, silently judging anyone who was distracting her.
“Bad day?” Sunny Flare asked, looking at Sour Sweet’s ruffled hair and crumpled shirt.
Sour Sweet looked at her. “Oh, it’s you, my dear friend,” she said. “Eat shit.”
“I take that as ‘yes’,” Sunny Flare muttered. “So, you’re pissed and Indigo is sleeping…” She poked Indigo, who raised her head from the desk and looked around before closing her eyes again. “This is gonna be a beautiful day.”
“It’s gonna be more beautiful when you shut up.” Sour Sweet looked at the board and started to write something in her notebook. Sunny Flare focused on the lesson too, staring at Sour Sweet’s notes from time to time.
“Umm… Sour?”
“What?” Sour Sweet glared at Sunny Flare.
“I’m pretty sure the problem here isn’t ‘How long does it take for both trains to crash and will the force of impact be enough to kill everyone in them,’” Sunny replied.
“Aww, hell.” Sour Sweet flipped the page over, showing Sunny the tight rows of calculations. “I already know all the forces working on the human spine at the moment of impact.”
“Did you take your meds?” Sunny’s eyes widened.
“No, of course not.” Sour Sweet smirked. “But I also didn’t eat breakfast, so you can make bets whether I freak out or pass out first.”
“And you keep saying that I’m an alcoholic and anorexic…” Sunny Flare shook her head and turned to Indigo. “You could at least pretend that you’re doing something rather than sleep during the lesson…”
“Asshole,” Indigo muttered.
Sunny Flare raised her eyebrows. “Excuse me?”
“An alcoholic, anorexic asshole.” Indigo chuckled, but quickly covered her mouth. “Sorry. Everything is funny when you slept for, like, two hours at best.”
“Even Sour Sweet being off her meds?” Sunny Flare asked.
Indigo blinked a few times. “Great. And what should I do? Force-feed them to her?”
“Don’t even try,” Sour Sweet muttered. “I’m fine, I’m just having a bad day, okay?”
Indigo turned to Sunny Flare. “See? No use in freaking out.” She looked at the board, right in time to see their physics teacher standing in front of her.
The teacher smiled at her. “So, if Ms. Zap is so talkative, she’ll show us how to solve the next problem…”
Indigo slammed her fist against the locker. “An F!” she exclaimed. “And I wasn’t even the one who was talking during the lesson…” She glared daggers at Sunny Flare. “If you woke me up a minute later, I wouldn’t get an F.”
“Yeah.” Sunny shrugged. “You’d get a detention for sleeping in class. So, if you analyse gains and losses…”
“Stop pretending you’re Sugarcoat.” Indigo sighed. “What are gains and losses of me slamming the door of a locker against your head?”
“Eternal peace,” Sour Sweet said. “But then we’d have to wipe her brain off the floor.”
Sunny Flare rolled her eyes. “I’m so happy you appreciate that I care about you!” she yelled. “Especially you, Sour. Indigo is beyond saving, but I thought you’d at least be wise enough to take your meds and not be a pain in the ass.”
Sour Sweet growled, grabbing the front of Sunny’s shirt and pushing her against the wall. “Do you think it’s easy?” she hissed through gritted teeth. “Do you think I want to be like that?”
“Sour, enough.” Indigo pulled Sour Sweet away from Sunny Flare. Suddenly, Sour Sweet stopped resisting and the two nearly collapsed on the floor.
“I’m sorry,” Sour Sweet said. “I’m just a bit pissed at my mother and stuff.”
“Ira furor brevis est.” Sugarcoat walked to them, smiling at Indigo and Sour Sweet; while there was still an hour till her Latin lesson, she was already preparing herself. “What? Estne volumen in toga, an solum tibi libet me videre?”
“Non shittum, Sherlockus,” Indigo muttered. “I haven’t slept, Sour hasn’t eaten, and Sunny has never learned not to be a bitch. How are you?”
“I spent a lovely evening with Sandalwood, talking about the first training of Canterlot High’s soccer team,” Sugarcoat replied. “Of course, I gave my notes to Mr. Sombra today. For some reason, they use 3-5-2 system now and Spitfire, their best striker, has finished school last year.” Sugarcoat shrugged. “They replaced her with some sophomore girl called Scootaloo or some other hippie name.”
“You went on a date to spy them?” Indigo rolled her eyes. “I’m not even that surprised.”
“You could do that too,” Sugarcoat said. “Like, I think Bulk knows their goalkeeper better. She has a crush on Flash or something.”
“I can already tell you she’s desperate, then.” Indigo shook her head. “And so are you. Bulk and I have more interesting things to do.”
Sunny Flare smirked. “She played computer games with Bulk and his brother for the whole night!”
“And I learned a lot about tearing hearts out, remember.” Indigo yawned. “What’s the next lesson? I need to lie down somewhere in the back and catch some z’s…”
“Maths,” Sour Sweet replied. “You can sleep well and never wake up if the teacher sees you…”
“Sounds good,” Indigo muttered.
“By ‘never’ I really mean it,” Sour Sweet said. “You’ve never gotten on Ms. Bell-Scurvy’s bad side, have you?”
“No, I was always good at maths.” Indigo shrugged. “I guess I can chill out a bit. We’re seniors, after all...”
While Hilda Bell-Scurvy wasn’t as bad as Sour Sweet considered her to be, she wasn’t lenient for seniors either. As a result, before the lesson ended, Indigo managed to forget her own name and nearly get a concussion from banging her head against the desk, but she eventually realised that the sense of her life was to become a human integral symbol.
“Are you alive?” Sugarcoat asked when Indigo walked out of the classroom.
“She looks like steam is gonna come out of her ears,” Sunny Flare said. “Indigo?”
Indigo looked around. “Yes?” she whispered.
“Are you gonna sleep it off during the lunch break?”
Indigo shook her head. “Dunno. I guess I’m gonna call in sick and go home.”
“Yeah, that’d be the best,” Sunny said. “You look like me after trying the parsley smoothie diet.”
“We’d rather not know the details, thank you,” Indigo muttered. “Guess I’m gonna catch the bus or something.”
“We’ll tell Dean Cadance that you’re sick.” Sugarcoat said. “Do you want some specific disease or should I settle on rotaviral enteritis?”
Indigo waved her hand. “Whatever.” She yawned and walked down the corridor, together with the students going to the cafeteria. However, she left them by the door and walked outside, shielding her eyes from the sunlight.
She noticed a couple of school janitors patrolling the car park. Tip-toeing by the school wall, Indigo went towards the pavement. However, before she could leave the school grounds and hide in the park surrounding Crystal Prep, she walked straight into a pair of younger students standing in the bushes. The girl immediately ran away, but the boy stayed in place, looking at Indigo like a deer caught in the headlights of an incoming truck.
“Chill out,” Indigo muttered. “What’s going on there?” She pointed at the car park.
“Someone was trying to get on the school grounds, but they didn’t have uniforms and were spotted,” the boy replied.
“Thanks,” Indigo said. She walked towards the hole in the fence, hidden behind the bushes.
As soon as she pushed herself through it, she heard some noise behind her.
“Hey, it’s her!” someone whispered. Before Indigo could turn back, she felt as if the back of her head exploded. She staggered, but recovered quickly, turning to face whatever threat was there.
She barely had time to notice two girls facing her when one of them punched her in the eye. Indigo stepped back, tripping and falling. Immediately, she rolled on the grass to avoid the boots of a girl trying to jump on her. World was spinning around Indigo, but she grabbed the attacker’s leg before she could attack again, and bit her.
“Aargh!” the girl screamed, trying to kick Indigo. “Starlight, don’t stand like that, come and he–” Her words drowned in a slapping sound. She staggered, nearly collapsing. Kicking Indigo once more for a good measure, she ran down the lawn and disappeared behind the corner of a nearby building.
Her companion, a green-skinned girl with long, violet hair, didn’t have such luck; Indigo reached her with her leg, tripping her. Before she could get up, she got tackled and pinned to the ground by Indigo’s saviour.
“Hi, Indigo,” Sour Sweet said. She was panting heavily, jamming her knee in the green girl’s stomach, her hands wrapped around her neck. “Are you okay?”
Indigo rubbed her head and blinked. She felt pulsating pain in her face and realised that for the next week her black eye would cause people to give Bulk strange looks. “Used to be better,” she said. “Why did you follow me?”
“I’ve heard something about terrorists trying to crash our lunch break,” Sour Sweet replied. “So I asked myself, ‘who’d be a big enough idiot to get caught by terrorists?’ and immediately thought of you.”
“Thanks.” Indigo shook her head and looked at Sour Sweet. “By the way, stop strangling that girl, unless you have a shovel in your car.”
“Who said I don’t?” Sour Sweet smirked at the girl, but loosened up her grip on her, causing her to gasp for air and cough.
“Your name is Starlight, right?” Indigo asked, leaning over her. “What the hell was that?”
Starlight said nothing, her wide eyes focused on Indigo and Sour Sweet.
“Oh, please.” Indigo rolled her eyes. “Just look at Sour here. You may know that she’s slightly, umm… unstable. Aren’t you, Sour?”
“When I was six, I shot my sister with a bow because she was annoying.” Sour Sweet smirked at Starlight. “Didn’t I?”
“I often hear you saying that,” Indigo said. “The thing is, I could, theoretically, give you and Sour Sweet some alone time in a remote part of school grounds, with no cameras.”
“Like that shower girl?” Sour Sweet asked. “Sometimes I worry about her.” She turned to Starlight. “My compassion doesn’t apply to you, though.”
“That’s why I won’t do that.” Indigo smiled at Starlight. “We’d be no better than you and your friend. Instead, we’re gonna go to Dean Cadance. She’ll take a look at me, she’ll talk to the janitors, and she’ll call Principal Celestia. How do you think, what will they talk about?”
“A certain student getting suspended or even expelled, that’s what.” Sour Sweet stood up, yanking Starlight upwards. “As my mother says, one dumb stunt and instead of checking out colleges, you’ll be checking out beds in crappy motel rooms for the rest of your life.”
“Yeah, and you didn’t even beat me,” Indigo said. “No use taking the blame for that coward who left you with us, huh? Who was that?”
“Cloudy Kicks,” Starlight whispered, shuddering. “I was trying to stop her…”
“Ah, of course.” Indigo nodded. “Must still be pissed because of Norman’s balls. Okay, Starlight, now you’ll go with us and tell Dean Cadance the same thing…”
Just as Indigo had expected, her black eye disappeared after a week. Coincidentally, Lemon Zest came back to school on the same day.
She was, however, as far from being fine as possible. She’d spend breaks sitting on the floor with headphones covering her ears. During the lessons, she worked hard, barely paying attention to her surroundings. The first training she took part in showed that her form had dropped considerably. After an hour spent missing every single goal shot and losing the ball every time she and Suri Polomare met on the pitch, she just sat on the bench, staring at the grass.
“Are you okay?” Indigo sat next to her. She looked at the pitch, where Frosty Orange kicked the ball between Sugarcoat’s legs and back-heeled it into the goal. Shortly before the training, they received their new kits. Indigo smiled when she saw her purple shirt with dark-blue sleeves, adorned with a large “11” in the back, but her smile quickly faded when she saw that Lemon Zest ended up with number 21, meaning that she’d start the match on the bench.
“I suck,” Lemon replied. “Good thing Frosty is fine.”
“You did pretty well for what you’re going through,” Indigo said. “And remember that we’ll need you, even as a substitute.”
Lemon shrugged. Indigo sighed before getting back on the pitch to practice with the ball. She bounced it off her head, chest and knees, before passing it to Lemon, who didn’t even react when the ball hit the bench right next to her.
“Oh, come on!” Indigo rolled her eyes. “I get it, Lemon, but you once said yourself that a Crystal Prep student can’t mope forever!” She walked to Lemon. “What else do we have to do so you at least speak to us?”
“You know those big furniture stores?” Lemon muttered. “I always wanted to stay in one after it closes and have a sleepover there.”
Indigo slammed her hand against her forehead. “Damn it, Lemon… Fine, if you score a goal, I’ll go with you, okay?”
“Sure, whatever.” Lemon stood up and kicked the ball to Indigo. “I probably won’t be playing anyway…”
The day was still warm after the training, so Indigo simply swapped her clothes for the away kit of Crystal Prep team, rather than her school uniform. She still caused quite a sensation when she parked by the youth centre – a girl wearing a yellow football jersey with dark blue sleeves, dark blue shorts and knee-long socks of the same colour riding a motorbike just wasn’t something people could see often.
Indigo took off her helmet and walked into the youth centre, listening carefully for the sounds of violin. She climbed upstairs and entered the hall.
The rehearsal was about to end. Bulk was still practicing some complicated passage on his violin, but most of the musicians were already packing their stuff.
“Hi Indigo!” Lyra approached her and smirked. “Are you sure you didn’t, like, get mistaken or something?”
“What do you mean?” Indigo asked.
“I mean, I once went to school in a bikini, but I wanted to win a bet with Bonnie.” Lyra shrugged. “Soccer kit at the music hall is a new thing for me, though. Very… experimental.”
“I’m training hard to kick your ass,” Indigo replied. “But for now, I’m waiting for Bulk.”
“Kick our ass?” Lyra nodded. “Please. I mean, our winger got herself suspended, that idiot.” She shrugged. “Bound to happen, really. But we already got a replacement.” She pointed at the raven-haired girl who was walking towards them with a cello case.
“Octavia?” Indigo asked. “You play soccer too?”
Octavia frowned. “I don’t know what you mean, luv. I play football.”
“Really?” Indigo raised her eyebrows. “I’d never guess. Like, such a prim and proper woman surely wouldn’t be as uncultured to–”
“Lyra, hold my cello.” Octavia gave the cello case to Lyra. “You have a ball in your backpack, don’t you?”
“Yeah.” Indigo opened her backpack and produced a ball.
Octavia kicked off her high-heeled shoes. “Try to get past me.”
“What?”
“What I said.” A spark appeared in Octavia’s eyes. Indigo noticed that several musicians, including Bulk, were now looking at them.
“Okay.” Indigo dropped the ball on her foot and took a few short steps towards Octavia, watching her carefully. She touched the ball gently with the outside of her right foot; Octavia moved slightly to her left, which was what Indigo wanted. In a flash, she kicked the ball with the inside of her right foot, darting to her left.
A second later, she was lying on the floor, watching Octavia standing above her with the ball at her feet. The tackle itself, as far as Indigo could tell, was clear; she still regretted ditching the shin guards after the training, though.
“That hurt…” Indigo muttered.
“An’ it bloody ‘ad to,” Octavia replied, kicking the ball to Indigo who caught it before it hit her face. “Berk.”
“Told you.” Lyra helped Indigo up. “She has a Cinderella syndrome. At the ball, she suddenly stops being a princess.”
Indigo nodded. “Ah, so it’s like Sunny Flare. She once got sent off for calling ref a wanker.”
Octavia sighed. “Did she also pronounce it wrong?”
Indigo stood up and dropped the ball on the floor. “You pronounce it wrong,” she replied. “Also, you were lucky this time.”
Octavia gritted her teeth and rushed towards Indigo, who was waiting for her with the ball at her feet.
“Oh boy, here we go…” Lyra muttered.
Indigo touched the ball with her foot, as if she wanted to copy her earlier dribble, but when Octavia approached her, she stood on the ball and spun in place, letting Octavia pass behind her back, while she shielded the ball on her. She kicked it forward and ran, stopping by the wall and turning towards Octavia.
“See?” Indigo chuckled. “I can do that all day.”
Octavia’s face turned red. She charged at Indigo, who passed the ball between her feet and stopped by Lyra.
“She’s not bad,” Indigo said, watching Octavia. “Just loses concentration too fast.”
Lyra nodded and kicked the ball from under Indigo’s feet. “Same here, I’d say.” She shrugged. “What? Haven’t you heard that there are two nutjobs in every team? Goalkeeper and the left winger.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I play on the left wing. And for the other team.”
Indigo nodded, trying to to determine whether Fleur and Sunny Flare were nutjobs. Most definitely, none of them played for the other team, as far as Indigo knew.
“Hey, kids! No playing here!”
Feeling chill running down her spine, Indigo turned back to see Bulk laughing loudly. “Hello, Indy,” he said, hugging her.
“Eww…” Lyra muttered. “Hope they’re not gonna do that after the game…”
The week before the match passed quickly. Animosities between the fans on social media reached apogeum somewhere around Thursday, when Indigo spent a good few hours checking out the memes posted in the group for Crystal Prep’s students by the supporters of both teams. It seemed that Sandalwood and several other people from CHS had managed to get into the group and were now using that fact to a pretty amusing effect.
The meme war finally died down somewhere around the lunch break on Friday, although some younger students tried to keep it going at least until Saturday morning. By this time, however, Indigo was already concentrating on the game, which meant no internet and phone until the Crystal Prep bus with the team and their supporters parked in front of Canterlot High.
“Okay,” Indigo stretched her legs and stood in the middle of the crowd. She saw Fleur and Upper Crust talking with their boyfriends, Fancy Pants and Jet Set. Lemon and Sour Sweet were standing together, silent. Frosty Orange was alone, and seemed blissfully unaware of anything but the ball she was holding.
Sugarcoat stood next to Indigo. “Hmm, do you think those two fuck?” She pointed at Suri Polomare, who was standing a bit away from the group, accompanied only by some blue-haired girl who stood behind her, saying something. She had large, blue eyes and was even shorter than Suri.
“I don’t want to imagine that,” Indigo muttered. At the same moment, Suri turned back and yelled at her friend, slapping her. The girl ran away, crying.
Sugarcoat raised her eyebrows. “Rude.”
“No matter that we’re in one team, remind me to break Suri’s hand after the match,” Indigo said.
“Are you crazy?” Sugarcoat asked. “There’s the whole season before us.”
Indigo only had time to shake her head, as Mr. Sombra appeared and led them into the building. On the way to the locker rooms, they were joined by Sandalwood.
“Hello, loser,” he said, hugging Sugarcoat. “Ready for a beating?”
“Please.” Indigo chuckled. “As if we ever lost against CHS…”
“Yeah.” Sugarcoat poked Sandalwood. “Remember that I know better ball tricks. I can show you some of them later…”
Indigo sighed. “Thanks, Sugarcoat. I’ll surely be faster after throwing up…”
“Oh, please.” Sugarcoat sighed. “I could never understand why people are so squeamish about their sexuality. Like, it’s possibly the most beautiful part of life, but they think it’s vulgar and disgusting…”
“Fuck off, Sugarcoat,” Indigo muttered.
“You’re just proving my words.”
Indigo groaned. “What limb do you want to have broken?”
Sugarcoat turned to Sandalwood. “Indigo is working for you, secretly. Her goal is to break bones of everyone in our team.”
Sandalwood nodded. “Groovy.” He stopped by the door of the dressing room. “So, after you end this pathetic show, I’ll be waiting for you.”
“Prepare for total humiliation…” Sugarcoat chuckled and opened the door. “Bye, Woody,” she purred before pulling Indigo inside.
A few minutes later, after the whole team was dressed in their outfits, Mr. Sombra walked into the dressing room.
“Okay, girls, I got their starting line-up,” he said, producing a piece of paper and passing it around the team. “Mostly no surprises. Try to attack down the right wing, the defender on their left side is new, apparently. Same goes for the left winger, Lyra Heartstrings. Anyone know her?”
“I do,” Indigo replied. “She’s tall, thin, and completely insane.”
Melon Mint gave her a piece of paper. Indigo looked at it and read:
“Octavia may be a problem,” Sugarcoat said. “My research was focused on Cloudy Kicks and she usually just runs on her side and passes the ball into the box. Anyone knows what’s Octavia’s dominant leg?”
Indigo furrowed her eyebrows, trying to recall Octavia playing cello and trying to steal the ball from her. “Right. Probably will be the same as Cloudy Kicks.”
“Good,” Mr. Sombra said. “Indigo, as our captain, do you have something to add?”
“Not much.” Indigo cleared her throat. She looked at Lemon Zest, Sour Sweet, and Suri Polomare. “I just want you all to, umm… leave your issues and weaknesses here and play the best match you can. And always remember, we are a team and we never lose!”
“That’s the second worst speech I ever heard,” Sugarcoat muttered when they walked down the corridor leading to the football pitch.
The sun was shining and the bleachers were filled with people. Indigo noticed Sour Sweet’s sister among the cheerleaders, as well as her family among the spectators. Bulk was sitting by the sideline with Sandalwood and Flash, who was talking to a blonde girl wearing a goalkeeper’s outfit.
“Ah, so that’s this girl that hits on Flash,” Indigo muttered.
“Let’s hope we score with her faster than him…” Sunny Flare replied.
“Welcome!” The commentator’s voice echoed across the stadium. “Snips and Snails here. Hope you guys are ready, because we’re, like, gonna have a big game here, right?”
“Sure, my dear friend,” the other commentator replied. “I see the guest team is already here, so let’s start with the line-up… Hmm, where did I have that card?”
“Damn, Snips… I put it down for a moment and– Wait, here it is.”
“That’s like, the first team I see where the numbers are in order,” Snips said. “Ladies and Gentlemen… Let’s welcome Crystal Prep Academy!”
Indigo and her teammates stood in the middle of the pitch along with the referees and Canterlot High’s team, dressed in light blue outfits with yellow details. The ovation mixed with loud music coming from the speakers deafened them briefly, but after a moment, it was turned off, letting the commentators do their job.
“Number one… Fleur Dis Lee,” Snails said. “Is that a Canadian name?”
“I’d say it’s French,” Snips replied.
“Really? Do they speak Canadian in France?” Snails asked.
The sound of someone’s forehead hitting the table was clearly heard through the speakers. “Nevermind.” Snips said. “On the right, number two – Upper Crust. On the left defence, number three – Ginger Owlseye. Numbers four and five, Sugarcoat and Melon Mint in the middle. Six, midfield anchor, Suri Polomare.”
“Position commonly known as defensive midfielder or the dirty job guy,” Snails said. “Or a girl, in this case.”
Snips sighed. “Number seven, Orange Sherbette, right wing. On the left, number eight, Sunny Flare. Frosty Orange, number ten, right behind a pair of strikers, number nine, Sour Sweet, and number eleven, Indigo Zap.”
Indigo noticed a girl with blue hair and purple sunglasses sitting behind the DJ console next to the commentators. She looked at them and cranked the music up, drowning their voices as they tried to read CHS team’s line-up. Indigo shook her head and went to the referee to shake hands with Rainbow Dash and, after a coin toss, choose the halves of the pitch.
“This will be fun,” Sour Sweet said when she and Indigo finally stood in the middle of the pitch, ready for the kick-off. “Someone will be massacred.”
The referee blew his whistle and Indigo passed the ball to Sour Sweet. The crowd cheered as Crystal Prep team’s members began to move forward, their attack unfolding.
It quickly turned out that it wouldn’t be easy to pass through the middle line of CHS team; a concentrated group of three centre midfielders and defenders formed a double wall that Frosty, Sour, and Indigo found hard to break down with passing and almost impossible to outrun.
The first attack broke down when Applejack’s sliding tackle caused Frosty Orange to lose the ball. It rolled down the pitch to Suri Polomare.
“Damn…” Indigo muttered. She’d noticed earlier that while Suri was good at defence, her attack skills were limited to passing to the nearest unmarked teammate. In this case, she quickly kicked the ball to Sunny Flare, whose attempt to flank the defence line was quickly interrupted by Octavia, who passed it to Sunset Shimmer.
“Foul!” Snips exclaimed when Suri Polomare suddenly appeared behind Sunset’s back and knocked the ball from under her feet, throwing her off balance and causing her to fall. The referee had a different opinion; Sugarcoat intercepted the ball and passed it to Upper Crust.
Orange Sherbette noticed the Crystal Prep’s shortage of players in the middle of the pitch and ran there, giving Upper Crust some space to gain speed. Upper ran past Lyra and passed the ball to Orange Sherbette, who gave it back to her before Rarity could reach her. By this time, Upper Crust was already by the penalty area. She noticed Sour Sweet rushing there and passed to her.
“Oooh!” Crystal Prep’s fans exclaimed seeing that Diamond Tiara appeared by Upper Crust at the last moment, blocking the cross. The ball bounced off her head and landed on Lyra’s chest.
Lyra didn’t waste time. Seeing that Orange Sherbette and Upper Crust didn’t come back to their half yet, she rushed down the field. Suri Polomare missed her. Sugarcoat tried to tackle the ball, but she slipped when Lyra made a feint surprisingly quick for someone with such long legs. Seeing that more of the players in yellow shirts were coming at her, Lyra crossed the ball towards Scootaloo.
This time, the Canterlot High fans groaned in unison when Scootaloo’s header was firmly caught by Fleur. She waved her hand at the bleachers and threw the ball to Melon Mint.
The game turned into a midfield battle. After the first twenty minutes, Indigo groaned in frustration; most of the Crystal Prep’s attacks were carried out down the wings and since she was shorter than any of the Canterlot High’s defenders, she had a hard time competing against them for the aerial passes. The one time she did receive a pass, she managed to dribble the ball around Diamond Tiara and Paisley, but before she could pass it to Sour Sweet, Bon Bon appeared out of nowhere and tackled it.
“This sucks,” she said to Sour Sweet as they stood by the centre circle, waiting for the ball in case of a counterattack. “We need to switch positions. I’ll help Frosty as the second midfielder while you stay in the front, looking for headers.”
Sour Sweet nodded. Behind them, Ginger Owlseye took the ball from Sunset Shimmer and passed it to Sunny Flare, who decided to switch play and made a long pass to Orange Sherbette. Indigo and Sour Sweet run into the penalty area, followed by Frosty Orange, as well as the defenders coming back.
Meanwhile, Orange Sherbette managed to outrun Lyra and kicked the ball towards Sour Sweet. Indigo skid to a halt between Paisley and Diamond Tiara, watching as the ball bounced off Sour’s forehead and arced to her. Indigo reacted instinctively. The goal was behind her back, so she jumped into the air, leaping back and raising her left leg. As the ball soared above her, she snapped her right leg up, hitting the ball.
She fell on the ground, accompanied by the cheering of the audience. She got up quickly to see the ball in the net and the blonde goalkeeper still stunned by that sudden shot.
“So, after the, I must admit, beautiful overhead kick by Indigo Zap, we’re losing 1:0,” Snails said. “Worry not, though, there’s still plenty of time to go. Go, Canterlot High!”
“Now we got them.” Sunny Flare embraced Indigo and they went back to their half of the pitch. “No way they can score against us.”
It seemed that she was right. After conceding the first goal, the Canterlot High team lost a bit of their flair. Their attacks were rare and badly prepared. After one of the counterattacks, Frosty Orange managed to hit the post, while Sunny Flare’s follow-up shot went wide. Soon after that, just a minute before the half-time, Indigo dribbled the ball between Rarity’s legs, only to be find herself on the receiving end of Bon Bon’s sliding tackle right in front of the penalty area.
The referee’s whistle caused the crowd to start booing. For a while, Indigo lay on the grass, rubbing her shin. She got up quickly, though, seeing that Sunny Flare wanted to take the ball.
“That’s my free kick,” Indigo said, putting the ball in place. Applejack, Bon Bon, Paisley, and Octavia stood in front of her, forming the wall, while Muffins rested her hand against the post, guarding her part of the goal. Indigo looked at her and took a deep breath.
The referee blew his whistle. Indigo rushed to the ball and kicked it, sending it right between the heads of Paisley and Bon Bon.
She heard the ring right after she saw that the ball hit the bar and the ground. “Goal!” she shouted.
The referee shook his head while Diamond Tiara kicked the ball as far from the goal line as possible.
“Seems that Zap thought it bounced behind the line…” Snips said. “She now runs to the ref, challenging his decision, but Canterlot High is on the run with the counterattack…”
Indigo froze. She raised her head and saw that Diamond Tiara’s desperate attempt to clear the ball sent it right under Sunset Shimmer’s legs. Before Suri Polomare could tackle her, Sunset passed the ball to Scootaloo, who was completely unmarked – Sunny Flare and Ginger Owlseye had moved too far forward during the free kick.
Sugarcoat abandoned her position in the centre-right area of the pitch, rushing towards Scootaloo. The young striker noticed that and suddenly stopped running, throwing Sugarcoat off-balance. She slipped on the grass while Scootaloo passed the ball to Rainbow Dash, who outrun Upper Crust and Melon Mint with ease.
“No offside!” Snips shouted into the microphone. “Rainbow Dash is one-on-one with Fleur Dis Lee…”
Rainbow Dash indeed ran into Crystal Prep’s penalty area. Fleur smirked and rushed towards her, ready to dive to her legs and steal the ball.
Rainbow smirked back. She kept the ball right at her feet, balancing her body to confuse the goalkeeper. Fleur hesitated, afraid that Rainbow could try to lob her; but at the same moment, the ball rolled on the ground between her legs and landed in the net.
“Goal!” Snails exclaimed when the whole team rushed the congratulate the scorer. “Rainbow Dash!”
“Shit,” Indigo muttered. She looked around, only to see the referee staring at her.
“One more use of such language and you’re gonna get booked,” he said. “One minute of stoppage time.” He pointed at the middle of the pitch.
“It seems that the Crystal Prep’s captain is discussing with the referee,” Snips said. “She probably doesn’t remember the definition of a goal.”
“Yeah,” Snails replied. “For the record, it’s when the whole circumference of the ball crosses the line by the length equal to the circumference of the ball. I hope that’s clear.”
Indigo felt the urge to greet the commentators with her middle finger, but stopped herself. Getting a card that way just wasn’t worth it.
The additional minute passed mostly uneventfully. After the whistle, the Crystal Prep team went back to their locker room for a talk with Mr. Sombra.
“That was a nice goal, Indigo,” he said after a minute of just pacing around the room. “But you just can’t afford to lose the concentration in last minutes!” He sighed. “Remember, even if the heaven opens above the pitch, rain of crystals falls and a chorus of angels tells you that you scored, wait for the referee’s decision with celebrating!”
“Yes, coach.” Indigo shook her head. Mr. Sombra, meanwhile, turned to Ginger Owlseye and Lemon Mint.
“What are you supposed to do as defenders?” he shouted.
“Defend?” Ginger Owlseye asked.
Mr. Sombra sighed. “Exactly. And what were you doing when we lost a goal?”
His question was met with complete silence, He looked around, looking for ideas, and his eyes finally rested on Suri Polomare. “And you! You run a lot, but your head is probably somewhere else. Why did you try to murder Sunset Shimmer?”
“I wanted to steal the ball,” Suri replied.
“You brought her down long after she got rid of it.” Mr. Sombra rolled his eyes. “Useless! Scootaloo already had a ball, so if the referee noticed, you’d end up with a card and the attack would continue due to advantage rule!” He sighed. “You’re here to make their life uncomfortable rather than be creative, but use your brain from time to time!”
“Sure, coach.” Suri shrugged and sat next to Indigo. “Not sure what’s the deal with that Sunset Shimmer. Like, I barely touched her, but she recoiled as if I burned her or something,” she whispered. “Maybe her daddy used to come to her at night…”
“Or maybe you forgot to wash your ass.” Indigo moved away from Suri and stood up. “Listen, girls, no time for panic. There’s the second half and we can overwhelm them with ease.”
“I believe you need to try harder,” Sugarcoat muttered in the middle of silence.
Indigo sighed and cleared her throat. “Who’s gonna win?” she exclaimed.
“Crystal Prep Academy!” the rest of the team shouted in unison. One by one, they stood up and left the locker room.
On her way back to the pitch, Indigo bumped into Sunset Shimmer.
“Nice to meet you again,” Sunset said. “Also, burying Suri Polomare in your backyard isn’t exactly a good idea.”
“Then, I’ll consider throwing the body into that portal-thingy.” Indigo muttered. “And don’t expect the second half will be any easier.”
Sunset shrugged. “Rainbow Dash most certainly doesn’t.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything else from her, really…” Indigo smirked.
Only a few minutes later, when they stood on their half of the pitch, waiting for the kick-off, Indigo realised what was bugging her.
“Sour?” she asked.
“Yes?”
“I was just thinking that burying Suri Polomare alive in my backyard would be a good idea,” Indigo replied.
Sour Sweet’s eyes widened. She looked around and said, “How do you want to do that? Do you have some way of baiting her to come to us, or do we follow her, shovel to the head and we pull her into the trunk?”
“No, not that.” Indigo groaned. “I was just randomly thinking that, when Sunset Shimmer told me that it was a bad idea.”
“Yeah, someone could see us.” Sour Sweet nodded. “Or she’d dig herself up.”
“No,” Indigo replied. “I mean, I was thinking that. How could she know?”
Sour Sweet smiled in the most psychotic way she could muster. “Magic.”
“Really?”
“No.” Sour Sweet grabbed her hair and spread them so they looked like Sugarcoat’s pigtails. “You’re just so dumb you have to move your mouth when you think.”
“That sounded more like a squirrel on drugs than Sugarcoat,” Indigo muttered.
Before Sour Sweet could reply, the referee whistled and Canterlot High’s team rushed forward. Indigo and Sour moved back to help with defence.
“Watch out!” Frosty Orange exclaimed, rushing towards Rarity, who was running down the right side with the ball. Indigo groaned, seeing how Sour Sweet and Frosty accidentally bumped into each other, collapsing.
Rarity ran further, unperturbed. Sunset, Rainbow Dash, and Scootaloo were trying to free themselves from the marking defenders, offering her an opportunity to pass. However, before Rarity could do it, Suri Polomare managed to get to her and pushed her away from the ball. A sharp whistle interrupted the game.
“Idiot,” Sour Sweet hissed, looking at Frosty Orange. She got up and walked towards the penalty area.
“What’s wrong with her?” Frosty muttered, looking at Indigo. “She seems to hate me.”
“Nah, she thinks you’re fine, but you’re not Lemon Zest.” Indigo helped Frosty Orange up and running with her towards the penalty area where Suri already got a yellow card and Fleur was yelling at the defenders forming the wall.
“Which of them is gonna shoot?” Indigo asked, standing in the wall next to Sugarcoat and watching at Rainbow Dash, Sunset, and Applejack preparing to take the free kick. “Rainbow Dash?”
“If so, the ball won’t touch us.” Sugarcoat shrugged. “She can spin around us and Fleur has to watch out.”
Indigo nodded. The whistle followed and Rainbow Dash leaned forward, running towards the ball. Indigo ran from the wall to the side, ready to block the shot. However, Rainbow only touched the ball with her foot and darted to the side, revealing that Applejack was running behind her.
The ball flew straight at the goal. It wasn’t spinning; it was a straight, powerful shot, going right into the space guarded by neither the wall, nor Fleur. The goalkeeper dived, ready to catch it, but before the ball reached her, Sugarcoat took a step to the right.
Indigo winced, seeing as the ball bounced off the side of Sugarcoat’s head, causing her to spin in place and collapse limply on the grass. The ball landed back under Applejack’s feet, but when she saw that Sugarcoat wasn’t getting up, she kicked it into the bleachers.
“Sugarcoat, are you okay?” Indigo asked, seeing that her friend was lying in the penalty area with her eyes closed. Sunny Flare poked her with her foot while the referee gestured the paramedics to the pitch.
Suddenly, Sugarcoat opened her eyes. “The hell...” she muttered.
“How are you?” Indigo asked.
Sugarcoat furrowed her eyebrows. “I either had a stroke or lost one of my lenses… My vision is blurry, but only in my right eye, and it’s freaky.”
“It’s bad,” Sunny Flare said. “Sugarcoat would never say ‘freaky’.”
“How do you know it’s bad?” Indigo shrugged. The paramedics grabbed Sugarcoat and put her on the stretcher, carrying her away. At the sideline, Cold Forecast started the warm-up.
“Trust me, my mom once played a nurse on TV.”
Indigo shook her head and went to the sideline. Orange Sherbette threw the ball to her, and Indigo kicked it on the other side of the pitch, giving it back to the Canterlot High in return for Applejack kicking the ball out of play earlier.
For a few minutes, the Crystal Prep team played without a defender, but then Cold Forecast took Sugarcoat’s place on the pitch, bumping fists with her friend, Ginger Owlseye.
Soon, they didn’t have much time to talk. Canterlot High unleashed a hurricane of attacks, bombarding Fleur’s goal with shots from the distance. Indigo could barely catch a breath, running from one penalty area to the other, desperately trying to form a counterattack.
Frosty Orange had it even worse; she often had to act as a second defensive midfielder and it was clear that, just like Indigo, she was much better in attack. When Sunset Shimmer dribbled the ball around her again in the middle of the pitch, she pulled her jersey and brought her down.
The whistle interrupted the game again. The referee ran to Frosty and showed her a yellow card. Sunset passed the ball to Octavia, who ran down the right side of the pitch. Ginger Owlseye darted to her, preparing to steal the ball once Octavia would move to her right.
Suddenly, Octavia cut to her left, leaving Ginger behind and running between Cold Forecast and Melon Mint. Before any of them could reach her, she kicked the ball with her left leg.
For a moment, Indigo thought that the ball was going wide. However, it curled towards the goal, flying between Fleur’s hands and landing in the net.
The crowd erupted in cheers. Octavia ran to the bleachers, where the commentators and the DJ were sitting, taking off her shirt and throwing it into the air. Dressed only in a sports bra, she climbed to high-five the DJ.
“She’s gonna get a card for that, for sure,” Snips said. “But that hardly matters since we’re winning. Twenty minutes to go, 2:1 for Canterlot High. Snails?”
“Yes?”
“Stop eyeing Octavia and get back to commenting,” Snips sighed. “What is with the players taking off their shirts after a goal?”
“Dunno, she’s European,” Snails replied. “They never waste an occasion to get rid of their clothes.”
Indigo barely listened to the commentators, but she knew they were right. Even though Octavia indeed got a yellow card for her display of joy, Canterlot High was still in the lead. Soon after the game was restarted, Orange Sherbette managed to make a nice pass to Indigo, but Muffins caught her shot easily. The same happened to Sour Sweet’s header a minute later.
“Hey, Octavia!” Suri Polomare exclaimed. “Is it true that to play in the CHS team you have to be a lesbo?”
“Bugger off, tosspot,” Octavia muttered. Suri looked at the referee, but he apparently hadn’t heard them.
Indigo shook her head. “If you keep making sure referee doesn’t hear you, don’t act surprised when he doesn’t hear her either,” she said.
“Shut up.” Suri walked away to take her position.
Another attack of Canterlot High ended with Melon Mint clearing the ball. However, Crystal Prep’s attack came to a halt when Sunny Flare lost the ball which left the pitch.
“Orange Sherbette!” Indigo gestured her right winger to herself.
“Yes?” Orange asked.
“You’re the closest to our bench. Tell Mr. Sombra that we need Lemon Zest on the pitch.”
Frosty Orange walked to them. “I’m not tired,” she said. “Unless… you just don’t want me here.”
Indigo raised her eyebrows. “What? No, of course not. We need everyone who can kick the ball straight for more than ten metres. You too, Frosty. Sherbette, tell Mr. Sombra that Suri gets more and more pissed and she may get a second yellow card soon.”
When a few minutes later another desperate attack by Crystal Prep ended up with a corner, the linesman raised his flag.
“We seem to have quite a few substitutions here,” Snails said. “In Crystal Prep, number twenty-one, Lemon Zest, for number six, Suri Polomare. Suri didn’t score, but if my sources in the Canterlot High’s locker room are correct, she suggested that everyone in our team are faggots, weirdos, or nerds, just in the first half alone. Oh, and she also said that Rarity copied her designs.”
Half of the crowd laughed, while the rest booed as Suri left the pitch.
“Meanwhile, in the Canterlot High team, we get two substitutions,” Snips continued. “Pinkie Pie for Lyra Heartstrings and, a debut in the team, Apple Bloom for Rarity. Which means that we now have two sisters in the midfield.”
“Welcome back, Lemon,” Indigo said when they both stood in the penalty area.
Sunny Flare crossed the ball into the penalty area. Indigo darted forwards, losing the defender marking her, but before she could reach the ball, Muffins caught it and quickly threw it to Apple Bloom.
“Not this again…” Indigo muttered, running back to her half of the pitch. Apple Bloom kicked the ball to Sunset Shimmer, who quickly passed it to Scootaloo. The striker rushed into the Crystal Prep’s penalty area, facing Fleur.
A sharp whistle interrupted the game. Indigo looked at the linesman, hoping that it was an offside, but he didn’t raise his flag.
Next to her, Sunny Flare cursed. Indigo turned towards the penalty area, to see that Scootaloo was lying in the middle of it, while Fleur was waving her hands, explaining something to the referee.
“It seems that Dis Lee caught Scootaloo’s ankles when she was about to dribble the ball past her…” Snails said. “The referee has to take an action… Yes, that’s a red card!”
“What?” Indigo ran to the referee. “We’re already getting a fucking penalty! Why a red card too?”
All she got was a yellow card. Several more players from both teams rushed into the penalty area, shouting at each other. Fleur seemed to accept the referee’s decision. She left the pitch and walked to the changing room, while the other goalkeeper, Diwata Aino, was preparing to the substitution.
“Stop fighting!” Mr. Sombra shouted. “We’re running out of time!”
“Seems that the brawl got defused before it even started…” Snips muttered.
“Would you want to see them fight?” Snails chuckled.
Before Snips could reply, Vice-Principal Luna appeared behind his back and cleared her throat, causing the speakers to go haywire and deafen everyone with feedback.
“Okay.” Snails gulped. “In Crystal Prep team, Melon Mint, number five, is gonna get replaced by Diwata Aino, number twelve, as it usually happens when a goalkeeper gets sent off. In the meantime, Diamond Tiara is replaced by the best defender in the world, Trixie Lulamoon.”
“What if they reached their quota of subs?” Snips asked. “Also, if Trixie was the best, wouldn’t she play from the beginning?”
“Remember what she promised us…” Snails sighed. “Also, Someone from the field would have to change clothes and pretend they’re a goalkeeper,” he added. “Still, it will be hard for Aino to save a penalty right off the bat, especially since they’re already losing and there’s two minutes to go.”
“And at least five minutes of stoppage time. We had a few breaks,” Snips said.
Diwata stood at the goal line, staring at Rainbow Dash, who placed the ball on the penalty mark. Each of them stared into each other’s eyes, trying to guess their plans.
Diwata waved her hands and jumped in the goal a few times as Rainbow Dash ran towards the ball. It flew into the air, aiming straight in the middle, while Diwata dived to her left. Seeing the ball, she reached back with her leg, and it bounced off her shoe. She got up quickly, seeing that Rainbow Dash was trying to get the follow-up shot, and grabbed the ball.
“Rainbow Dash misses a penalty!” Snips exclaimed when Diwata kicked the ball as far from her goal as she could. It bounced off the ground in the Canterlot High’s half, completely surprising Paisley, who failed to notice Lemon Zest running behind her back.
Lemon ran with the ball, jumping with it over Trixie, who attempted a sliding tackle. Bon Bon rushed to block the shot, but it was too late; the ball kicked by Lemon barely scratched her shoe. It was, however, enough for it to change direction slightly and land in the goal next to Muffins’ hands.
“Yes!” Indigo exclaimed, running to Lemon Zest and embracing her. They fell to the ground, soon disappearing under their teammates piling up on the top of them.
“You’ve dodged the bullet with this one! The principal won’t be happy with a draw...” Mr. Sombra exclaimed when the game ended a few minutes later, but Indigo didn’t care. She, Sour Sweet, and Sunny Flare carried Lemon Zest to the changing room.
“We’d better check on Sugarcoat,” Sunny Flare said on the way. “Hope she didn’t get any permanent brain damage…”
“Oh, screw her,” Sour Sweet muttered. “Let me and Lemon enjoy that for a while…”
Lemon chuckled and turned to Indigo. “Oh, by the way…”
Sandalwood’s life was pretty simple. He’d get up, go to school, hang out with girls, talk with them about environment, piss off several people on the internet, laugh at their stupidity, and go to the gym to get ready for the imminent armageddon. All of those were rather predictable. That was why he raised his eyebrows when he walked into the gym and saw Indigo Zap on the rowing machine.
“What is she doing here?” he asked Bulk.
“She wanted to see me training,” Bulk replied. “Also, she managed to row two thousand metres in barely above seven minutes.”
Sandalwood’s eyes widened. “Impossible.”
“Oh, please.” Indigo stopped rowing and stood up. “You may have been lucky with a draw in soccer, but there’s no way I can lose in rowing.”
“I’m not sure if we even have a rowing team.” Sandalwood shrugged. “Besides, who is even interested in rowing?”
“I am!” someone behind him exclaimed. Sandalwood turned back to see the blonde girl with yellow eyes, dressed in a blue training outfit. It didn’t escape his attention that she was accompanied by Flash Sentry.
“Well, Muffins, you also play a saw,” Sandalwood said. “One could easily notice that your hobbies are rather… alternative.” He turned to Flash. “Also, what is it? Bring your girlfriend to the gym day?”
“Actually, she’s not my girlfriend,” Flash muttered.
“Yet.” Muffins smiled, embracing Flash.
“Also, Sandalwood, you could’ve just brought Sugarcoat here,” Bulk said.
“She gets out of the hospital tomorrow. Don’t you know?”
Indigo nodded. “Yeah, she’s pissed that she had to stay there for three days. Anytime we visit her, she rambles about being put in a room with smelly old people who should’ve died already. So far all she achieved were old people slipping laxatives in her drink.” She looked at Sandalwood. “By the way, I haven’t seen you visiting her…”
“I sent her a message.” Sandalwood produced his phone. “‘Hi, Coatie, I’m glad you didn’t die’.”
“And what did she do?” Flash asked.
Sandalwood scrolled the list of messages. “She sent me a photo of her…” He cleared his throat and showed the phone to Flash and Muffins, who tilted their heads, staring at the screen.
“Eww…” Indigo winced. “If that’s what I think it is, I don’t want to see it.”
“One’d think you already did,” Sandalwood said, hiding his phone. “I mean, you shower together after matches…”
“Yeah, but we don’t stare,” Indigo replied. “Except Lemon Zest, but she tries not to be intrusive. You do?”
Bulk looked at Sandalwood and moved away from him. “I’m not showering with you anymore…”
“Nevermind,” Sandalwood said. “We’re not here to talk, we’re here to exercise, right?” He walked on the treadmill and turned it on.
“A propos Lemon Zest,” Indigo said. “I made a promise to her and now it seems that we’re spending my birthday in a furniture store. At night. Illegally.”
“That’s crazy,” Muffins muttered. “I always wanted to do that.”
“So you’re the second.” Indigo shrugged. “Someone else? Remember that it can’t be a big group.”
Bulk smirked. “Well, I can’t miss your birthday… Also, that can be fun, if we don’t get caught.”
Indigo waved her hand. “Oh, don’t worry about that. I asked Sunny Flare to do some reconnaissance and I’m pretty sure she took the scientific approach…”
It was late afternoon, but the store was still full of people who had finished work and decided that they definitely needed a new couch or bed. As usual in such stores, the workers were used to every kind of customer. A teenager in a school uniform, walking around, talking to herself, and typing something on a wrist device was just another person who was probably in a dire need of furniture.
“Crikey…” Sunny Flare muttered to herself, standing in front of the large shelf. “A whole wall full of toilet seats. Toilet seats everywhere, from the floor to the ceiling. Impressive.” She looked around. “No cameras, of course. Too expensive to cover such a large area and it’s not like someone’s gonna run off with a wardrobe. For small stuff, theft detectors are enough…”
She walked down the alley, checking out her wrist device. “Beds and stuff, comfortable stuff, but we can’t touch most of those, it’s not ours.” She raised her head. “Oh my God, a kangaroo onesie!”
Some girl, a few years younger than Sunny, looked at her and chuckled.
“Blow me, pleb.” Sunny took the kangaroo onesie and hid in the shortcut leading to one of the showrooms before the girl’s parents could take a good look at her. Seeing that the showroom was actually a quite stylish bedroom, she smirked, thinking of all the things she could do in there.
She sat on the bed, putting the kangaroo onesie next to her and pushed the button on her wrist device. The gadget started to beep for a while, before someone responded in slurred Japanese.
“Hi,” Sunny said, playing with the hemline of her skirt. “What’s up? Fck_d4_p00r here. I just thought that it’d be cool if you came here one day. I found a cool place to hang out.”
Her interlocutor muttered something in response.
Sunny immediately stopped massaging her thigh. “What do you mean you haven’t left your room for two years?” She shrugged. “Time to do that, I guess.”
More Japanese followed. Sunny furrowed her eyebrows, focusing on getting the gist of it.
“What do you mean it’s 5 AM in Tokyo?” she exclaimed, but the only response was beeping coming from her wrist device. “Damn timezones, how do they work?”
She stood up, straightened her skirt, grabbed the onesie, and left the display, trying to find the way out. After twenty minutes of navigating through the shortcuts while creating the map of the store in her wrist devices, she managed to find the cafeteria.
“Sunny Flare?”
Her heart racing, Sunny turned to the person who said her name. She saw Sunset Shimmer sitting at the table in the far corner, a large portion of meatballs, potatoes, and lingonberry jam in front of her.
“Hello,” Sunny said. “Umm… What’s up?”
“Oh, I just bought a new table,” Sunset replied. “Pinkie broke the old one, you know. And now I’m trying those.” She stabbed a meatball with a fork and ate it.
Sunny nodded and approached Sunset, reminding herself that she was, in fact, ambivert. “Yeah. And I was just buying, umm… a kangaroo onesie.”
Sunset raised her eyebrows. “I didn’t know that side of you… Well, we met only twice and neither Friendship Games nor the match were an occasion to talk, but you don’t look like someone who’d want a kangaroo onesie.”
“I do what I want,” Sunny replied. “And I buy what I want, too. Though my parents don’t want to buy me a new car, after I wrapped the last one around the tree…”
“If that helps, my parents never bought me a car either.” Sunset grabbed another meatball. “Hmm, that’s pretty good. And I don’t even eat meat that often.”
“You don’t?” Sunny asked. “I was on a diet once and didn’t eat it, but I like it too much.”
“My parents weren’t fans.” Sunset shrugged. “Well, no one around ate meat, in fact.”
“Some kind of hippie sect?” Sunny smirked. “Sugarcoat has a hippie boyfriend. If I had to live with more such guys, I’d probably turn violent.”
Sunset nodded slowly. “Yeah, you can call it that. We lived pretty far away from here… In India, in fact. Took me a while to get used to beef, you know. Some of my best friends were cows.”
“Sounds sad,” Sunny replied.
“They’re great listeners,” Sunset said. “And those here don’t ta– I mean, they taste great.”
Sunny looked at Sunset’s almost empty plate. “I wouldn’t be sure it’s beef.”
“Good,” Sunset muttered. “I don’t have friends among pigs.”
“They say it’s made of horses.” Sunny smiled. “Didn’t you hear?”
Sunset suddenly paled, covering her mouth.
“What’s wrong?” Sunny asked.
Sunset overcame the gag reflex and took a deep breath. “You don’t know, do you?”
“What? You were raised by horses now?” Sunny chuckled. “No wonder of all the people you can use–” She looked around and mouthed the word “magic” quietly.
“More or less,” Sunset replied. “Though I wasn’t raised by horses. That’s ridiculous… But as for magic… May I?” She reached and grabbed Sunny’s hand.
“What the–” Sunny recoiled, nearly knocking the plate off the table.
“I just wanted to check something,” Sunset muttered. “You really don’t know.”
“I don’t know what?” Sunny furrowed her eyebrows. “Also, how do you know–” She raised her finger and pointed at Sunset, her cheeks red. “You can read minds, can’t you?” she whispered.
“A little.” Sunset blushed. “Maybe I shouldn’t–”
“Well, you caught me a bit off-guard,” Sunny said. “But holy twat-waffle, you can read minds!”
“Shh,” Sunset muttered. “No one needs to know.”
“True.” Sunny lowered her voice to a whisper. “You know, there’s some serious money in there. I can hack computers, you can hack minds, together we can rule the world. You know, first we’ll have to–”
Sunset raised her eyebrows, pushing her chair slightly back. She looked around and tried to get up, but Sunny caught her hand.
“And that way, in two decades, I’ll be in charge of the biggest fashion brand in the world, while you’ll be running for president,” she said. “On a side note, what did you see in my head?”
Sunset realised her mouth was hanging agape, so she closed it and took a deep breath. “Some kid throwing up.”
“Ah, that’d be me.” Sunny Flare’s expression faded. “I thought of it when you were about to puke. But I got pills and therapy for that, and now I eat normally, no matter what Indigo says.” She looked at her wrist device. “Gotta go now. See you around.” She stood up and stormed off the cafeteria.
Sunset Shimmer focused her gaze on the last remaining meatball. After a short struggle with herself, she skewered it with the fork and put it in her mouth and swallowed quickly.
“They want to have a sleepover here?” she muttered to herself. “Geez.”
“I don’t know,” Flash said. “That Sunny Flare looks a bit stuck-up to me... “
“Oh, that’s because you don’t know her that well.” Indigo grabbed a kettlebell and lifted it above her head. “She can get pretty, umm… eager. And she doesn’t know how law works.”
Muffins grabbed another kettlebell and yanked it upwards in a way prompting Flash to stay back. “How so?”
“She thinks that if your parents are rich and famous, you can get away with anything,” Indigo replied.
“I’d say that exactly how law works,” Flash muttered. He searched through remaining kettlebells, settling for the heaviest one. However, he immediately swapped it for a weight half as heavy.
“Watch out with those,” Indigo said. “I’ve seen a guy swinging a kettlebell straight into his–”
“Nose?” Muffins asked. “I once almost hit myself in the face.”
“No, that definitely wasn’t nose…” Indigo chuckled and put the weight on the ground. “I guess he wished it was…” She turned to Bulk, who was lying on a bench, pressing a barbell. “Do you need help with that?”
Bulk put the barbell on the rack and sat on the bench. “No, this one isn’t that heavy.”
Indigo looked at the barbell. “It’s twice as heavy as me.”
“Well…” Bulk looked at his arms. “If you tried to spot for me, you wouldn’t be very helpful then…”
Indigo’s face reddened. “I said it’s twice as heavy as me. I didn’t say I can’t lift it.”
She walked to the bench, grabbed the barbell, and groaned. “Okay, I can’t.”
Bulk chuckled and hugged Indigo. “Doesn’t stop you from trying, huh?”
Sandalwood jumped off the treadmill and walked to them, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Chill out with those exercises,” he said, smirking at them. “Also, I guess it’s a common thing among Crystal Prep students. Indigo tries to lift things she can’t handle. Meanwhile, if Sugarcoat saw a big, red button labelled ‘Don’t push. May cause the end of the world as we know it’, she’d happily push it. Twice.”
“Well, in my case it’s overconfidence,” Indigo said. “In her case, it’s being a bitch.”
“I’d say those are both Crystal Prep values.” Sandalwood shrugged. “Ask your principal about that. On a side note, I wonder what is Sugarcoat doing…”
Sugarcoat pushed the red button next to her bed, and looked at the door. For a few minutes, nothing was happening, but then the door opened and a nurse walked in.
“What do you want this time?” she asked.
“Four minutes and twenty-two seconds,” Sugarcoat muttered. “I could have died before you came here.”
“You called us fifty-seven times just today,” the nurse replied. “You’re fine and you’re gonna be released tomorrow. I can assure you that you’re not dying.”
“Who knows?” Sugarcoat shrugged. “I probably got a hospital-acquired infection.” She raised her phone. “Like, I could’ve gotten pneumonia, diarrhea caused by an antibiotic-resistant Clostridium difficile, sepsis, Legionnaires’ disease… My parents don’t believe in vaccines, I may have hepatitis, and I never had chickenpox. I’m also afraid that I’ll get Neisseria meningitidis and become deaf and retarded, if not dead. Have you even heard of any of those diseases?”
The nurse sighed. “I work here for ten years, not to mention the university. We received your complete medical record and you apparently got all your vaccines on time, and had chickenpox at the age of seven. Hell, being vaccinated against hepatitis is required if you want to apply for a place in Crystal Prep.”
“How do you know where I go to school?” Sugarcoat asked.
“You were brought here in a soccer outfit,” the nurse replied. “You were also vaccinated against Neisseria meningitidis, and I’ve yet to see a teenager who’d get Clostridium without having serious problems with their immune system. Which you don’t have, by the way.”
“How about sepsis?” Sugarcoat shuddered. “My friend’s mother died of sepsis.”
“It’s unlikely you’d get it,” the nurse said. “And no, you’re not gonna get a single room because your roommates are plotting to kill you. One of them is ninety-six and the other had a stroke and can hardly move.”
Sugarcoat checked out her phone. “Do you know that the oldest axe murderer was a hundred years old? Ninety-six is still young…”
The patient lying on the bed next to Sugarcoat’s opened her eyes. “Oh, thank you, dear.” She blinked and looked at the nurse. “When does she get released? We’re not plotting to kill her, but we may start.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” the nurse said. “Tomorrow. As for today, we may turn off the Wi-Fi.”
Sugarcoat raised her eyebrows. “Do you know that UN declared access to internet a fundamental human right?”
“Oh really?” The nurse smirked. “Funny that you’re accusing us of violating human rights since you ended up here…” She left the room and closed the door.
“Geez…” Sugarcoat shrugged. “How did Sour Sweet stay in a hospital for so long and didn’t get crazy?” She looked at her phone. “I may as well ask her…”
“It was much calmer than my house.” Sour Sweet put the phone back on the nightstand and sat on the couch.
“Who was that?” Lemon Zest asked. She was sitting cross-legged on the couch in her room, wearing a football helmet.
“Sugarcoat,” Sour Sweet replied. “She’s bored. What the hell are you wearing?”
“Ah, it was just lying around.” Lemon took off the helmet and put it by the couch. “Not sure where I got half of these things. I gave up on cleaning my wardrobe after finding three traffic cones.”
Sour Sweet shook her head and pulled Lemon in a hug. “One day, we’ll clean it… My dirty girl…”
Lemon clenched her muscles, trying to move away from Sour Sweet.
“What?” Sour asked. “You don’t like me anymore?”
“No, it’s not that.” Lemon tried to free herself from Sour Sweet’s hug, but she found out that it was too tight. “I mean… It’s fine that you’re with me and stuff, but I sometimes–”
“You think I’m a freak?” Sour Sweet pushed Lemon away. “But of course. Well, in case you didn’t notice, you’re a freak too. You just keep hiding from anyone behind your headphones!” She leaned closer to Lemon. “Freaks have to stay together…”
“That’s it,” Lemon muttered. “You never let me say anything! You always interrupt me and assume something I don’t even think about! And everything always has to be like you want!” She rolled her eyes. “‘You’d better clean your room, Lemon;’ ‘Let’s eat pizza because I’ll punch you if we order burritos, Lemon;’ ‘It doesn’t matter that you killed your mother with your cold, school started and we need to go together!’ Damn you, Sour Sweet!” She crossed her arms and turned away.
“I– I do that?” Sour Sweet shuddered. “Damn, Lemon, I’m sorry! You know that I… I’m a– You know. I don’t mean to do that!” She hid her face in her hands. “I screwed up again, didn’t I?”
“Yes,” Lemon replied. “And you keep doing that.”
“I know.” Sour Sweet sighed. “But you must understand–”
Lemon Zest groaned. “And yet again, it’s me. You must understand? Why not, ‘I’ll try to change?’ Or maybe you’re not trying to change because it’s convenient for you? You can always play the vic–” She recoiled when Sour Sweet slapped her.
“Shut up.” Sour Sweet gritted her teeth and rubbed her temples.
Lemon looked back at her. “Out.”
Sour Sweet raised her eyebrows, staring at her right hand as if she saw it for the first time in her life.
“Get out of my house,” Lemon muttered, standing up. “Or I’ll tell your parents how fucked up you are…”
Sour Sweet stood up. She was taller of the two, but Lemon didn’t seem to be intimidated. “You won’t dare…”
Lemon backpedalled towards a shelf. She reached back and grabbed a baseball bat from it. “Get out, or we’ll check what exactly is in your head.” She took a deep breath. “Come back when you rethink your behaviour.”
“Fine.” Sour Sweet sighed. “Goodnight, Lemon.”
She walked out of the Lemon’s room and closed the door. She could hear the sounds of Lemon’s father’s guitar coming from his home studio. It didn’t take long before another sound joined it, the one Sour Sweet knew well – Lemon Zest sobbing in the pillow.
Sour Sweet turned towards the door, her hand inching closer towards the handle. Then she turned back and ran out of Lemon’s flat, stopping on the next floor, resting her hand against the wall and panting.
“Again…” she muttered to herself. “You just had to…”
She clenched her fists and punched the wall with all her might. A wave of pain nearly caused her to black out; she felt that something in her palm went loose, but she didn’t care. Smirking, she went to her flat.
The next few days were a continuous blur of learning, homework, and trainings. Indigo barely had time to fit both rowing and football in her schedule, and her muscles most certainly weren’t grateful for the strain she was putting on them. At least on Saturday Crystal Prep’s team won 3:0 against Sunnydale High, which caused Mr. Sombra to ease out with trainings for a bit.
Rowing was, however, still pretty demanding, so when Indigo tried to get out of her boat after getting to the shore, she nearly collapsed into the water before Sour Sweet caught her.
“Thanks,” Indigo muttered. “What happened to your hand?”
Sour Sweet looked at her hand, wrapped in a bandage. “I got bitten by a dog. Nothing bad,” she replied. “The dog died.”
“Was it rabid?” Indigo walked to the bench and dropped on it next to Sunny Flare, Lemon Zest, and Sugarcoat. “Maybe you should get some injections for that?”
“Already did.” Sour Sweet winced. “And the dog wasn’t rabid. It just touched me and died.”
Lemon looked at her and raised her eyebrows.
“You know what?” Sunny Flare asked. “It’s been a while since we did stuff together, don’t you think? And it’s still a while to Indigo’s birthday.”
“I can’t,” Sugarcoat muttered. “I told Sandalwood I’d watch the rehearsal of his band. Not that it’s interesting…”
“We can go with you,” Lemon replied. “At least after Indigo takes a shower.”
“Hey!” Indigo exclaimed, poking Lemon. Then she sniffed herself and winced. “Okay, I smell.”
The rehearsal room was rather spacious; whoever was responsible for its acoustics, it ended up with a quite pleasant reverb and an ability to make the loudest bands break windows and eardrums of unsuspecting spectators.
Sandalwood’s band, The Planeteers, definitely wasn’t the loudest. There was only a certain amount of noise a guy with conga drums, a girl with maracas (whom Indigo recognised as Paisley, the central defender of Canterlot High football team), and a guy with thin moustache and acoustic guitar could achieve.
“Oh no,” the guitarist muttered, seeing Sugarcoat and her friends walking into the room. “Sandalwood, did you invite her here again?”
“Why not?” Sandalwood smiled. “She likes listening to me playing.”
“Playing bongos on her tits, maybe…”
Sour Sweet looked at the guitarist and at Sugarcoat. “Who is this wanker?” she asked.
“Captain Planet,” Sandalwood replied. “Yes, it’s actually his name, and no, his parents weren’t high when they named him. But only because it was his grandma who named him, and she was, indeed, high as a kite.”
“Shut up, Sandalwood.” Captain Planet sighed. “I’d like to remind you that your girlfriend is not welcome here. The rest can stay, we’re pretty inclusive.”
“I see,” Sunny Flare muttered. “Sugarcoat, what did you do?”
“I stated my opinion,” Sugarcoat replied and turned to Captain Planet. “And don’t think you’ll get rid of me.” She sat on one of the mismatched chairs standing by the wall. “Play on, guys. We can act as a proper audience and throw peanuts at you.”
“We’re not doing that.” Lemon Zest smiled at the band members. “We’re pretty fine, really.”
“Speak for yourself,” Sour Sweet muttered, taking a seat next to Sugarcoat.
Lemon sat next to her. “I don’t have to do everything you tell me.”
“And how about you?” Paisley asked Sunny Flare, who found herself to be the only one still standing. “Anything wise to say?”
“If music be the food of love, play on,” Sunny muttered. “That’s about all the wise things I can say.”
Her words were punctuated by Sandalwood, who attempted a rimshot, using his conga drums and the vibraslap in place of the crash cymbal.
“Okay then.” Captain Planet hit a few guitar chords and started to play, accompanied by Paisley and Sandalwood.
Indigo wasn’t much of a musician, but she thought it was fine, at least as long as they played covers. The Planeteers’ interpretation of San Francisco was passable, and their version of Simple Song of Freedom was actually pretty nice. Everything changed when they decided to play some of their own songs.
“Did they seriously just rhyme ‘nature’ with ‘hate her’?” Sugarcoat rolled her eyes. “And I told them not to do that.”
“Sounded more like ‘hate ya’ to me,” Sunny Flare replied. “And ‘nature’ sung with some vaguely non-rhotic accent so it rhymes.”
“I agree,” Indigo said. “Nothing erotic about this accent.”
Captain Planet stopped playing and looked at them. “What again?”
“Those lyrics suck,” Sugarcoat replied. “Although I must say that this bit which implied killing people to reduce emissions was pretty metal.”
Captain Planet raised his eyebrows. “It wasn’t about killing people to reduce emissions…”
“No?” Lemon Zest asked. “I totally thought it was, right?” She turned to Sour Sweet.
“Nah, I think it was about emissions slowly killing us.” Sour Sweet shrugged. “I think that’d be better than a quick death.”
“You mean worse, right?” Sunny asked.
“No.”
“Anything else?” Paisley asked, swinging the maraca as if she wanted to hit someone with it.
“Umm…” Indigo cleared her throat. “I mean, wasn’t it a bit too upbeat for a song about the dying planet and stuff?”
“It’s intentional,” Captain Planet muttered.
“He also wrote a cute love song with a melody that makes you wanna hang yourself,” Sandalwood said. “I call it signature style.”
“Yeah, because you’re a great songwriter.” Captain Planet rolled his eyes. “He wrote a song about saving orcas by giving the whale hunters shrooms.”
“Hey, everyone I showed it to liked it.” Sandalwood banged on his drums. “C’mon, Planet, let’s play it.”
Captain Planet sighed and played a simple chord sequence, which soon drowned in Sandalwood’s voice.
“Does he always sound like a homeless drunk when he sings?” Indigo whispered to Sugarcoat.
“Not only when he sings…” Sugarcoat chuckled. “But to me, he sounds like Sunny Flare when she downs a bottle of wine and starts singing.”
Indigo nodded. “I see some similarities…”
The song went on. After a few minutes, Lemon closed her eyes, resting her head against Sour Sweet’s shoulder. After another minute or so, Sunny Flare, who was already bobbing her head to the rhythm, started to tap her foot against the floor.
Two minutes later, Captain Planet stopped playing while Paisley gave Sandalwood a heavy glare.
“What?” Sandalwood asked.
Paisley rested her hands on her hips. “How many verses does this song have?”
“Thirty-seven.” Sandalwood shrugged. “I wanted to play with the concept a bit.”
“Geez.” Paisley looked at the ceiling and shook her head. “Maybe you should sing it during the party. You’d scare everyone away.”
“What party?” Sugarcoat asked.
“I told you already,” Sandalwood replied. “Vinyl Scratch wants to make a great Halloween party, and invited every single band in town. You know, like Woodstock, but scarier.”
“Maybe I was busy with something else,” Sugarcoat muttered. “And who the hell is Vinyl? I think I’ve heard that name before.”
Lemon Zest opened her eyes. “She’s a DJ from Canterlot High. We talked a few times.”
“When?” Sour Sweet asked.
“Not your business,” Lemon replied.
“You were just sleeping on my shoulder, dearie,” Sour Sweet muttered. “I guess this is my business.”
Lemon furrowed her eyebrows. “You wish.”
“Oh, of course.” Sour Sweet rolled her eyes. “Let’s just forget about all those times when I was sitting in front of your closet, hoping that you’d–”
“Sour!” Indigo exclaimed. “Do you have a problem?”
“Lots of them,” Sour Sweet replied, smiling at Indigo. “But don’t worry, I’m fine.”
Indigo sighed. “Now I’m worried,” she muttered.
In the middle of the room, Captain Planet groaned. “So, if you’re not interested in the rehearsal, maybe you’d kindly leave? Some of us would want to focus.”
“Chill out, Cap.” Sandalwood walked to Sugarcoat and embraced her, ignoring her basilisk-like expression. “Peace, love, and whatnot.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Sugarcoat muttered, the corners of her lips moving up just a little. “Girls, you can go. I’ll join you a little, umm… later.”
“Yeah, I feel like throwing up.” Sour Sweet stood up and opened the door. “Anyone goes with me?”
“Definitely not joining you there,” Sunny Flare replied. “But I could use some fresh air.”
Naturally, the first thing Sunny Flare did after she walked outside with Indigo, Sour, and Lemon was producing an e-cigarette in an attempt to suffocate everyone in a vapour of steam, supposedly smelling of strawberries.
“What?” she asked when her friends looked at her. “It’s better than normal cigs. For you too.”
“For me, it’s like saying that gonorrhea is better than syphilis,” Indigo replied. “But to each their own.”
“You really had to remind me of sex-ed with Principal Cinch, didn’t you?” Lemon winced.
“Always.” Indigo smirked. “What is Sugarcoat doing there? Soon, we’ll hear that she secretly became their bassist.”
As she said that, they saw a black car approaching them. It skid to a halt by the pavement and its door opened, revealing Flash Sentry and the members of his band, as well as Muffins, sitting next to the driver.
“Hello, girls,” Flash said. “Did you also decide to form a band?”
“Totally,” Indigo replied. “I play electric triangle underwater, Lemon has a friend who is a DJ, Sour bangs a baseball bat against skulls of unsuspecting fans, and Sunny can probably play a flute, given all that vaping. Also, Sugarcoat can get on people’s nerves and play them like a fiddle, but I’m afraid Sandalwood became our Yoko…”
“Interesting,” Muffins said. “I play a saw.”
Indigo raised her eyebrows. “A buzzsaw?”
“No, a musical saw,” Muffins replied. “Fits a cowbell well.”
“I’ll send you a video,” Flash said. “But you’d better watch out for your ears.”
Muffins poked him. In the meantime, Brawly Beats opened the trunk of Flash’s car and started unpacking his drums. Ringo walked to Sour Sweet and tried to shake her hand, causing her to take a step back.
“My name’s Ringo,” he said. “Nice to meet you.”
“Sour Sweet. It’s awful to meet you,” Sour muttered.
“Don’t mind her.” Lemon smiled at Ringo. “She’s imagining things that simply aren’t possible.”
“Oh really?” Ringo turned to Lemon, ignoring the fact that Sour Sweet’s face suddenly became so red that her freckles almost disappeared. “And what do you think is possible, beautiful stranger?”
Lemon blushed. “Not exactly a stranger. I’m Lemon Zest. You can call me Lemon, if you wish.”
Ringo smirked, lowering his sunglasses a little. “You most certainly don’t waste time, Lemon Zest.”
Lemon sighed. “I don’t think I have enough of it, so I’m trying to make use of every minute…”
Behind her back, Flash groaned. “Ringo, are you going? I think the tree lovers almost finished their rehearsal.”
Ringo shrugged. “Excuse me, little stranger,” he said. “Duty calls.”
Indigo raised her eyebrows, watching him go away. After a while, Sandalwood and his band left the room, accompanied by Sugarcoat, whose eyes widened when she saw them.
“Still here?” she asked. “I’m going with Sandalwood to feed rats. Guess you’ll have to do something without me.”
“No problem,” Indigo replied. She looked around and, to her surprise, she realised that Sour Sweet had disappeared somewhere.
“Maybe we’ll watch Flash Drive’s rehearsal?” Lemon asked. “I wanted to have a few words with Muffins.”
“I guess I’ll pass,” Indigo replied, turning to Lemon. “Although, I’d like to have a few words with you first.”
Lemon backpedalled. “Yes?”
“Ringo.” Indigo looked at the door of the rehearsal room. “You can’t possibly be interested in this guy, can you?”
“Of course not, don’t be silly,” Lemon replied.
“So, what was that?” Indigo asked.
“Oh, come on, Indy.” Sunny blew the steam out. “Being a vegetarian doesn’t mean you can’t look at the menu, if you know what I mean.”
“Not if you do that to spite Sour Sweet,” Indigo said. “Because that’s what it was, right, Lemon?”
Lemon rolled her eyes. “Well, before you call me a bitch and stuff, take a good look.” She pulled her hair aside, showing the part of her cheek usually covered by it. It was barely visible, but her skin was of a slightly darker shade of red in there, with a bruise in the middle. “See? That’s what happens when Sour thinks I’m not grateful enough for her helping me, after…”
Sunny looked at Indigo. “I’d like to point out that someone kept telling me that Sour was fine when off her meds recently…”
“She’s fine,” Lemon said. “Except when she gets all jealous and tries to make me her personal punching bag, but other than that, she’s okay.”
“Soon you’ll be saying that you fell down the stairs.” Sunny shrugged. “You know what? I feel like listening to more shitty music because of you.” She opened the door and walked inside of the rehearsal room, where Ringo was already tuning his bass.
“Same,” Lemon said. “Are you going, Indigo?”
Indigo walked towards the room, but hesitated halfway through. “Maybe we’d better find Sour Sweet? In case she does something dumb.”
“I have enough of her for today,” Lemon replied. “You can go, if you want.”
Indigo looked back, but then she shrugged. “She’s an adult. She’ll be fine.”
Sour Sweet looked around. The part of the town she was in was unfamiliar to her; she couldn’t recall ever being anywhere nearby, surrounded by blocks of flats towering above her. Everything was grey, but Sour couldn’t say whether it was really like that or it was some figment of her imagination.
She sat on a bench at the bus stop and rubbed her temples frantically. All she remembered was that she had jumped onto some random bus and left it there. What line was that, she had no idea.
“Fuck!” Sour Sweet exclaimed, trembling.
“Is that a proposition?”
Sour looked up and saw a young man in a leather jacket. “Get out,” she muttered.
The man smiled. “Ah, don’t worry, I’ve seen that before. You need a fix, don’t you? All girls from your school buy from me, you know.”
Suddenly, the tip of Sour Sweet’s shoe hit him just below the knee, causing him to gasp and lean forward. Sour grabbed the front of his jacket and yanked him to the side, making his head collide with the bus stop sign. When Sour released him, he fell on the pavement, blood staining his forehead.
“Okay, I get it, you don’t want anything!” he exclaimed. “You could’ve just told me, you crazy cu–” He choked when Sour kicked him in the stomach and ran away.
She kept running through narrow streets until she was completely out of breath. Her heart was racing and her liver felt like it was going to rip itself out of her body. Coughing, Sour leaned her hand against the wall of the block and threw up on the rachitic grass surrounding it.
After she was done, she staggered away, grabbing the phone out of her packet. She ran through her contact list and tapped the screen.
“Nurse?” she asked when her call was finally answered. “Is Dr. Feelgood in?” She took a deep breath and looked around. “Tell her that I’m… It got bad.” She shuddered. “No, not criminally bad, for fuck’s sake! Why do you always assume the worst?! No, I’m sorry… You won’t be telling me to calm down! I need help!”
Sour Sweet rubbed her forehead, trying to focus on the phone. “Oaken Street, between numbers thirteen and fifteen,” she whispered, her throat dry. “I’ll be waiting there. Come quick, please…”
Panting, she ended the call and dropped on her knees, staring at the ground.
While planning Indigo’s birthday, Sunny Flare didn’t fail to notice an important detail that could easily thwart their plans. October 10th was most definitely on Tuesday, which, given that everyone would have to go to school on the next day, would make their sleepover in the furniture store much shorter and less awesome. However, after a brief discussion with Indigo and Lemon, they decided to move the sleepover to Friday.
It didn’t mean that Indigo didn’t celebrate anyway. After school, she jumped on her motorbike and decided to ride to Bulk. She shuddered slightly, riding down the street; it seemed to her that Summer was just a few days ago, but chilly wind and falling leaves meant the motorbike season would be over soon.
After a while of travelling across the forest, she parked the motorbike in front of the house and looked around. She noticed Ruby resting herself against a pile of wood and smoking a cigarette with a blank expression on her face.
“Don’t fall asleep, or this thing will burn your mouth,” Indigo said.
Ruby blinked and raised her head to look at her. “At night, I work at the supermarket, putting stuff on the shelves,” she muttered. “Sleep is for rich shits like you.”
“Definitely,” Indigo replied. “Where can I find Bulk?”
“In the garage.” Ruby pointed at the large door on the left side of the house and yawned.
“Thanks.” Indigo walked to the garage and knocked on the door. She heard the sound of some machinery and the door slowly moved upwards, revealing the inside of the place.
It was a rather large workshop. Carpentry, machine, and metalworking tools were hanging from the walls or were hidden in red chests made of sheet metal. There was a circular saw there, as well as three cars in various stages of disrepair, standing by the table with vices of various sizes. Car parts and pieces of planks were scattered everywhere. The cherry on the top was a poster on the wall, depicting a pin-up model in a revealing lingerie.
In the middle of the garage, Bulk was standing next to some wooden framework, holding an angle grinder in his hands.
“Hello,” Indigo said. Her eyes narrowed when she looked at the poster. “Should I feel jealous?”
“My brother put it here.” Bulk blushed. “He says no workshop is complete without one.”
Indigo smirked. “True. I have a photo of a girl wearing only an aviator jacket in my workshop. I guess it grows on the wall naturally after you buy enough power tools.”
Bulk chuckled and walked to Indigo to kiss her. “Happy birthday, by the way. How do you feel as an adult?”
“The same as yesterday.” Indigo shrugged and looked at the wooden framework. “What’s that?”
“Seems that it’s gonna be a boat,” Bulk replied. “I mean, I just started to build it one day, and it looks a bit like a boat, so I decided to make it a boat.”
“Works for me.” Indigo raised her eyebrows. “I’m pretty sure that one day Sunny Flare will trick me into building a power armour that way.”
“Power armour? That’d be awesome!” Bulk exclaimed.
“Not when Sunny has it. It’s one of my worst fears, along with Sugarcoat learning magic.” Indigo looked at the poster again. “I should definitely get such lingerie for our sleepover…”
Bulk’s jaw dropped. “Err… I mean... I thought we’d be, umm… normally dressed. With your friends there and everything.”
“Define ‘normally’,” Indigo replied. “Sunny already said that she’s gonna wear some weird Japanese word that apparently translates to ‘kangaroo onesie’.”
“Kigurumi?” Bulk asked. “Featherweight watches a lot of anime and pisses people off with his Japanese.”
“Ditto for Sunny.” Indigo sat on the table, waving her legs. “She even found some dude she can talk to, but he never leaves his room, apparently.”
Bulk nodded. “Strange, though it seems to be a norm in your school. A propos, how is Sour Sweet? Sandalwood told me that she ate someone’s brain in the park, but I have a feeling that he may be exaggerating.”
“Yeah, it was actually not in the park.” Indigo shrugged.
Bulk raised his eyebrows, looking at her.
Indigo rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on! She didn’t kill anyone. She had some kind of an attack, I think. Apparently, she regressed mentally to the time when she was six, but she’s as reliable as Sandalwood when it comes to talking about herself.” She sighed. “At least she had enough sense to call her doctor before freaking out completely.”
“That sucks,” Bulk said. “And what will happen to her now?”
“She already got better,” Indigo replied. “And, of course, Lemon immediately ran to her and doesn’t want to leave her, like, ever.”
Bulk’s eyes narrowed. “Didn’t she say that Sour hit her?”
Indigo nodded. “Well, now she feels guilty because she started flirting with Ringo to piss her off. And that’s despite everyone telling her to stay as far from Sour as possible.”
Bulk chuckled. “Flash says every girl that dated Ringo felt guilty later. But I guess he’s jealous.”
“Well, if I were more jaded, I’d say that this was exactly what Sour was aiming for,” Indigo said. “But enough about this.”
“Yeah, lingerie was much more interesting.” Bulk chuckled.
“Hey!” Indigo punched Bulk in the arm and rubbed her fist, wincing. “Don’t you even think about it!”
“Well, your school uniform is fine too…”
Indigo’s jaw dropped. “What?”
Bulk blushed, backpedalling. “Umm… I mean… Well, it’s your birthday… But if you don’t like the idea…”
“Of what, sex?” Indigo asked, feeling as if steam were to come out of her ears. She tried to laugh, but it was barely a snort. “Well, I’m not saying I’m not open to this idea…” she said slowly. “But, as a matter of fact, I’m most definitely not sure how not to make that, umm… awkward, I guess.”
“Well, I think first times are always awkward.” Bulk shrugged. “Sandalwood told me–”
“I’m not sure if I want to know that,” Indigo muttered. “I guess I’m not ready yet. Especially not during a sleepover, with audience and stuff.”
“No problem.” Bulk sighed. “Guess that’s not the best place, with Ruby creeping around and Featherweight and my parents being here…”
“Not here, either. And it’s not really that,” Indigo replied. “I guess if we were spontaneous… But once we brought that up… The spark’s gone, I’d say.”
“So, next time, less talking?” Bulk smirked and hugged Indigo.
“Yeah. And not on this Friday, unless you enjoy an audience.” Indigo shook her head.
“Most definitely not.”
Indigo looked at the wooden framework. “Yeah… Until then, maybe I’ll help you with the boat?”
A rat ran through a dark room, stopping in the corner and standing on hind legs. Its whiskers moved as it scanned the environment around it. Darkness wasn’t an issue – the rat was blind since an early age, when an inborn genetic defect began to take hold. Nevertheless, the rat could sense that its Mistress was sitting in the middle of a circle drawn on the floor with red paint, her hands spread and her muscles tense.
The rat could hear Mistress’ muffled chant, as well as the rustling of paper. The air smelled faintly of dust, incense, and leather, mixed with a faint trace of blood. It didn’t bother the rat in the slightest; Mistress often had strange ideas like that.
“Rosalind,” Sugarcoat muttered, aiming her hand at the rat, her fingers spread. “According to this magic book I bought from some permanently stoned Sandalwood’s friend, you should be now floating in the air. Either magic doesn’t work on rats, or that was the worst spent ten bucks in my life. Hope that friggin’ hippie chokes on her vomit in some dirty toilet.”
Rosalind dropped on all four and ran under the desk. Sugarcoat closed the book and threw the vial with blood into the trash can.
“That’s hopeless,” she muttered, standing up and rubbing her legs. “I will never learn magic.”
She waved her hand and grabbed a bottle of water from her desk. After taking a sip, she winced. “Why is this water so cold?”
She threw the bottle on the floor. Rosalind watched as the remains of water on the bottom turned into ice which, however, soon started to melt.
Sugarcoat walked across the room to turn on the light when she heard an upbeat disco tune. She sighed and opened her bag, looking for her phone.
“Indigo?” she asked after finding it. “What do you want?”
“Well, Bulk and I were building a boat…”
Sugarcoat turned the light on and sat on her bed. “That’s how they call it nowadays?” she asked.
“No, of course not!” Indigo exclaimed. “But about that… Umm… Well, we brought that up and–”
“Good,” Sugarcoat said. “About time, I’d say.”
“I don’t know how to do that.” Indigo sighed.
Sugarcoat furrowed her eyebrows and lay down on her bed. “Do what, exactly? I always thought you and your hands got to know each other a while ago. Also, why are you calling me, of all the people?”
“Sour Sweet is battling her inner demons, Lemon’s experiences are probably not compatible, and I’d rather not talk to Sunny about it,” Indigo replied. “So I thought that since you and Sandalwood do that all the time…”
Sugarcoat groaned. “Geez, Indy, sometimes feeding rats is just feeding rats, you know? Also, definitely not all the time. I keep telling Sandalwood that a true sailor is not afraid of the Red Sea, but he seems a bit too squeamish for that…”
Indigo made a gagging sound. “You’re giving me mental images I didn’t need…”
“Hey, you called me first,” Sugarcoat said. “What do you want to know? For the technical stuff, call Sunny Flare. If half of the rumours are true, you ate less fries in your life than she ate–”
“Mental images again,” Indigo muttered. “I just don’t know how to, umm… start.”
“Ah, this.” Sugarcoat nodded. “Now, how to explain that for your simple mind to understand…”
“Hey!” Indigo exclaimed.
“Okay, then.” Sugarcoat took a deep breath. “It’s like soccer. First you find a good pitch. A big bed, roses, incense, candles, whatever makes you comfortable. Second, research on the opponent’s team. Who’s the best striker, which foot the winger prefers to use, whether the goalkeeper chooses their right or left during the penalty… Guess you know that already?”
“More or less,” Indigo replied.
“Good. Third, don’t overdo it. We did and Canterlot High screwed us over. Stick to simple tactics you’re comfortable with, though catenaccio is probably not the best choice. The time of tiki-taka will come later.”
“So basically, collapsing defences, quick counterattack, and dynamic penetration of opponent’s defense using technique and some sick ball skills?”
Sugarcoat barely stifled a chuckle. “Yeah… For tips on penetration, I can send you some educational videos. As for defences, remember about them. You want to score, but with consequences of an own goal you’ll have to deal for the next eighteen years.”
“I don’t have to think that,” Sugarcoat muttered. “And remember, only go into action when the time is right. Fouls may end with a career-ending injury. Got it?”
“I guess…”
“Good.” Sugarcoat smiled. “And, Indigo…”
“Yes?”
“Happy birthday.”
Drama Letter looked at the cash register and sighed. She’d stopped working as a barista when the school year started, but her shoestring budget soon forced her into another job, this time involving selling furniture.
She had no idea why so many teenagers, including guys from her school, decided to visit her store on a Friday afternoon, but it didn’t occupy her mind for long. Instead, her thoughts drifted to a black Trans Am belonging to her friend Sophisticata, who’d come to her after closing the store and drive her to her place to spend a crazy night acting their favourite scenes from Shakespeare’s plays.
Finally, the time came for her to give back the cash drawer, count the money with her manager, and go home. The lights went out, leaving only several lamps to scatter the darkness engulfing the displays and showrooms. The whole place went silent, aside from the sounds of various machinery hidden deep inside the building.
Suddenly, the silence was interrupted by the sound of opening doors. Lemon Zest and Sour Sweet walked out of the two closets and looked at each other.
“Are you okay?” Lemon asked. “I just discovered that I’m claustrophobic.”
“Nah, I’m fine.” Sour Sweet walked to Lemon and embraced her. “Though I was thinking that we could as well take one of those closets home. I need a place to hide from my sister, sometimes…”
“You’d better just buy it,” Lemon replied. “Or else they’d go to the police and say that they were… wardrobbed.”
Sour Sweet groaned. Before she could say something, Muffins crawled from under the bed.
“I guess your friends didn’t like that pun,” she said. “But don’t worry, I can do bedder.”
“I swear, I’ll punch your eye straight…” Sour Sweet muttered. After a second, she searched her pockets and fished out a bottle of pills.
“Where’s Flash? Nothing ever mattress for this dude…” Muffins looked under the bed and pulled Flash out. “What’s going on?”
“I fell asleep, okay?” Flash sighed. “Where’s the rest?”
“I was just going to ask the same thing,” Sandalwood walked into the showroom with Sugarcoat and Sunny Flare, dressed in her kangaroo onesie. “We hid between sofas. Guess that makes us sofa king-funny.”
Sugarcoat shook her head. “You could as well hide among cabinet parts. No one would notice one more knob. Also, I don’t think Sunny should be wearing things she’d bought here. Someone may think she stole it.”
“Don’t worry, I have a receipt.” Sunny Flare pulled the phone out of the pouch of her onesie and took a selfie with Muffins and Sour Sweet, the latter taken entirely by surprise. “Squad goals!”
“Speaking of squad, where are Bulk and Indigo?” Flash asked.
“Looking for a perfect football pitch,” Sugarcoat muttered.
They heard a loud thud somewhere close to them. Several more noises soon followed, as if something heavy was dragged on the floor.
“Maybe it’s ghosts?” Lemon Zest asked.
“Yeah. A haunted chaise longue.” Sunny Flare produced a bottle of whisky from the pouch. “Luckily, I can contact that thing spiritually…”
“Some spirits will be involved,” Flash muttered, sitting on the floor by the bed.
“Alcohol? That’s uncultured.” Sandalwood started to search his pockets.
“No weed,” Sugarcoat said. “This place may have no cameras, but it probably has smoke detectors. Also, I don’t want anyone to get high. Most certainly not with Sour Sweet around.”
“What?” Sour Sweet growled.
“You just took your pills and you’re not exactly stable, as of late,” Sugarcoat replied. “If you got stoned, it’d end with a trip to ER. For you or one of us.”
“What?” Sour Sweet hugged Lemon Zest. “I’d never hurt any of you…”
Before Lemon had time to protest, Indigo and Bulk walked into the showroom.
“We’re sorry,” Indigo muttered. “Bulk got stuck in some tight place and I couldn’t get him out.”
Sunny chuckled, which soon evolved into a fit of snorting laughter.
“I meant that he hid inside of a cupboard,” Indigo muttered. Even in the dim emergency light it could be seen that she was blushing.
“Yeah, sure,” Sandalwood muttered.
They sat in a circle in the middle of the showroom. Sunny opened the bottle and passed it to Indigo, who politely refused. Sunny shrugged and took a large sip herself, shaking and wincing before giving the bottle to Sandalwood.
“So, how is everybody?” Lemon asked. “I mean, I know, more or less, because I know all of you.” She looked at Muffins. “Except of you. You’re a goalkeeper, that’s all I know.”
“Well, I also play a musical saw,” Muffins replied.
“Circular saw?” Indigo asked. “Industrial metal?”
“No, an actual musical saw. New age, acoustic ambient, noise. We have a band with Raspberry Fluff who plays a triangle, and Blueberry Pie, who plays a cowbell.”
Lemon grinned “Do you need more–”
“No.” Muffins’ eyes focused on Lemon. “Don’t say that around Blueberry or else you may get the cowbell up your bum. Wider end first.”
“Kinky,” Sour Sweet muttered. “Although it may have sharp edges… What a stupid death would that be.”
“Can we not mention death?” Lemon looked at Indigo. “It’s her birthday, after all.” She took the bottle from Sugarcoat’s hands and took a swig.
“One year closer…” Sugarcoat muttered.
“Shut up, Sugarcoat!” Indigo, Sour Sweet, and Bulk said in unison.
“If I had a dollar for every time you say that…” Sugarcoat shook her head. “I could buy Sunny’s house, I guess.”
“Leave my house alone.” Sunny hiccuped. It was the second or third time the bottle reached her and it seemed that she wanted to make up for Sour Sweet and Indigo, who weren’t drinking.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to live there anyway,” Sugarcoat said and turned to the rest. “I’m not sure about this place, but her house is haunted, I’m sure. Guess when someone has a house that big, the ghost is the next thing they hire after a butler.”
“Which one is that?” Flash asked. “Also, is the butler a vampire?”
“A big-ass mansion in the suburbs,” Indigo replied. “You’d know it if you saw it.”
“Please.” Sunny smiled. “We’re so loaded we can even pay our ghosts to shut up. And it’s useful since dad probably pissed off a lot of his ancestors when he married mom.”
“Even more so when they made a future alcoholic,” Indigo muttered.
Sunny shrugged. “Also, we don’t have a butler anymore. He quit to fulfill a lifelong dream of becoming a sniper.”
Bulk scratched his head. “To think about it… How come you all are friends? You keep being rude to each other.”
Sandalwood furrowed his eyebrows. “Why does no one ask about that when you guys are rude to me?”
“Because nobody likes you,” Flash muttered. “Or rather, as Muffins put it, we like to not like you.”
“Well, she’s the only person who likes you, so I guess you know what you’re saying.” Sandalwood turned to Indigo. “But I’d like to know that story. How did you all become friends?”
“That’s simple,” Sour Sweet replied. “In the first grade, Sugarcoat was teasing Lemon and that’s why she has a glass eye now.”
“She does?” Bulk asked.
“Which one? Or wait, I’ll check!” Muffins walked to Sugarcoat and smacked her in the back of the head. “Hey, none of them fell out!”
“You’re in for a long, painful death,” Sugarcoat muttered through gritted teeth. “Sour Sweet would be too, but that’d be a mercy for her…”
“Last time I checked, Sugarcoat had both eyes,” Indigo said. “Sour Sweet sometimes says strange stuff since she’s slightly sick.”
Muffins raised her eyebrows. “Try to say that while drunk.”
“Shut up, everyone,” Sugarcoat whispered. “Or we’ll all get caught.”
“No one will notice us on a Friday night,” Indigo replied. “Too loud in general.”
“Yeah,” Lemon said. “We can even check which bed is the bounciest and no one will hear.”
“What exactly do you mean?” Sandalwood smiled, embracing Sugarcoat who made a face like an annoyed cat.
“Jumping on beds, of course!” Lemon exclaimed.
Flash chuckled. “Well, to think about it, one dude broke into the youth centre with his girlfriend to have sex on the pool table…”
“Snooker table, maybe,” Sugarcoat said. “Pool table is too small.”
“He said it was a pool table,” Flash replied. “Though I probably wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”
“Also, there’s no such thing as ‘too small’...” Sandalwood muttered.
Sugarcoat nodded. “You know that best…”
“What is snooker?” Muffins asked.
“Pool for nerds,” Sugarcoat replied. “With fifteen red balls and six coloured ones.”
“I know a thing or two about balls…” Sandalwood whispered.
Bulk raised his eyebrows. “So, in snooker, red isn’t a colour?”
“No.”
“Better red balls than blue balls,” Sandalwood muttered. “Also, I’d really like to know how you all met each other. After all, everyone knows that Flash and Bulk became my friends because girls liked me and they wanted to know why.”
“It later turned out they were all vegans,” Bulk muttered.
Suddenly, they heard a sound as if a pig had a fit of coughing caused by advanced tuberculosis. They looked around, but it soon turned out that it was Sunny Flare who, seeing that no one wanted to drink whisky, decided to get to know the bottle better. The sound was apparently laughter, though one couldn’t be sure.
“Okay, you wanna hear a story?” Sunny asked. “You’ll get one.”
“Leave some whisky for us,” Bulk said. “Also, I don’t feel like dragging you home, putting you at the doorstep, ringing the bell, and running away.”
“This happened before,” Sour Sweet muttered. “Lemon tripped and Sunny’s mom caught us. Luckily that old whore is an alcoholic too, so it wasn’t that bad.”
“Eat shit, Sour Sweet,” Sunny said. “Anyway, a long time ago in Crystal Prep, five girls met. One of them had no friends because of being a smug bitch, the other’s sister kept stealing cars and getting into trouble, mother of the third one just got sick, and the fourth has cat food instead of a brain.” She looked at Sour Sweet and smirked. “Oh, and there was me. I’m awesome.”
“Your mom drinks and your dad spends five days a year at home,” Sour Sweet replied. “Also, before you say some shit about our problems causing us to meet, I’d like to remind you that what brought us together was making Twilight Sparkle’s life miserable.”
“Remember how she squealed when we put her head in the toilet?” Indigo’s smile faltered when she looked at Bulk. “Hey, I’m not saying I’m proud of that!”
“That sounded like you were,” Bulk replied.
Indigo rolled her eyes. “Listen, I kinda enjoyed it when I was a kid, okay? Kids are cruel, especially in Crystal Prep. But that doesn’t mean I’d do that to Twilight again. I’m wiser than that.”
“You’re not,” Sugarcoat muttered. “You’re still the good, old, impulsive Indigo.”
Indigo gritted her teeth. “Do you want to go back to the hospital?”
“You’re just proving my point, you know.”
Indigo sighed, crossing her arms. “Oh yeah. Is it some new tradition? Birthday roast?”
“Your mother was a hamster and your father smelled of elderberries!” Muffins exclaimed.
Sandalwood shook his head. “Girl, what did we tell you about quoting this movie? And remember that the same applies to The Princess Bride, Pulp Fiction, or any of the Star Wars movies.”
“You didn’t even watch them,” Flash said.
Sandalwood smirked. “I did. All five of them.”
Flash groaned and shook his head.
“Also, roasting me isn’t fun,” Indigo said. “Try that on Sour Sweet. The winner gets to be fed their own liver.”
Sunny Flare shook her head, producing another bottle of whisky from the pouch of her onesie. “What happened to the old tradition of telling ghost stories during sleepovers?”
“The drunk kangaroo is right,” Muffins said. “That’s much more fun than roasting people!”
“Okay then…” Sunny Flare passed the bottle to Muffins. “One time I was going back from a party. I sneaked to my house in the middle of the night and went to the bathroom.” Her eyes widened. “I turned to the mirror and saw some horrible face in there!”
“Was that you after a party?” Sugarcoat asked.
Sunny’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know?”
“I’ve been to that party,” Sugarcoat replied. “The look on your face was partially an effect of my reaction to you trying bath salts.”
Sandalwood turned to Flash. “Wanna bet that they’ll eventually try to beat the crap out of each other?”
“Sure,” Flash muttered.
“Well, let’s see if you can tell a better story.” Sunny sent Sugarcoat a nasty glare.
“I’m bad at that,” Sugarcoat replied. “What scares me wouldn’t be comprehensible to such simpleton as you.” She turned to Lemon Zest. “The question is, what scares you?”
Lemon Zest gulped. “Well, I once heard of a girl, who went on vacation to the countryside. There was an old man living there, in a small cottage surrounded by a garden full of the strangest of plants.”
“I’m calling it now,” Bulk said. “The old guy is gonna kill her and bury her in the garden.”
Lemon ignored him. “One day, the girl and the old man met and he asked her to visit his garden and watch all those plants. Having nothing better to do, the girl did. As she was wandering through the garden, full of exotic plants, the old man told her to avoid one of them, an entanglement of thick vines, hidden in the darkest corner, between the trees.
“The girl nodded and continued her walk. Eventually, she felt tired and sat down in the corner of the garden, under the tree. Suddenly, she felt something crawling up her leg. She looked down and saw a thick, green vine, wrapped around her ankle. She thrashed, but another vine grabbed her other leg. Soon, she was completely entangled and one of the vines reached under her skirt–”
“Lemon, are you sure it’s, you know, a ghost story?” Indigo asked.
“No.” Lemon blushed. “On a second thought, no, it’s not.”
“But of course.” Sour Sweet sighed. “Your ghost stories are all lame. Do you know what’s scary?” Her pupils shrunk to pinpricks. “Life. When you can’t even trust yourself because sometimes your mind decides to take a day off and then you wake up, tired, and learn that you did something you’ll regret forever…” She looked at Lemon. “Life when you can’t trust anyone because you know they’ll betray you once they learn about your true nature… And whatever you do, no matter how nice you act, they can always see the dark depths of your mind, silently judging you…”
“So…” Muffins scratched her head. “Do you want a muffin?”
“Yes, please,” Sour Sweet replied quickly. Muffins opened her backpack, producing a box full of baked goods.
“No sympathy from me,” Sunny muttered. “Sorry, Sour, but I think, like, you’ve brought that upon yourself. I don’t recall you taking your meds as of late. And you could at least stop calling my mother a whore.”
“Shut up,” Sugarcoat hissed. “Do you want to start a shitstorm? Because that’s how you do that.”
“I won’t shut up,” Sunny said. “You know, Sour, if you really loved Lemon, you’d at least try to change for her, instead of treating her as your personal punching bag, or body pillow, or whatever she is for you right now.”
Indigo stood up, looking at Sour Sweet and Lemon Zest unsurely. Then she turned her head to Sunny Flare. “Do you want to take a walk? I’d like to see how this store looks like when it’s empty…”
“What?” Sunny raised her eyebrows.
“You want to take a walk,” Indigo muttered, grabbing Sunny’s arm and lifting her from the ground. “We’ll be right back.”
They walked to another showroom, full of kitchen furniture. Indigo looked around and rested against the table. “What was that?” she asked.
“I’m saying what I think,” Sunny said. “If you don’t agree–”
“I agree,” Indigo replied. “But there are better times to tell that to Sour than now. And here. If she freaks out, no one knows we’re here, get it? And we’re here illegally. Do you want to get arrested?”
Sunny shrugged. “As if.”
“That’s why I don’t drink,” Indigo muttered.
“Getting on your high horse now?” Sunny asked. “Oh, please… Like you’re so much better because you don’t drink, huh? You’re pretty dumb even without that…”
Indigo growled and jammed her fist in Sunny’s stomach, knocking the wind out of her. Sunny took a few steps back, dropped on a chair and fell on the floor with it. She rolled off of it and stayed on the floor, crying and clutching to her stomach.
“Indigo? What’s going on?”
Panting, Indigo turned back to see Bulk. He was staring at her and at Sunny, who tried to catch a breath, resulting in a mix of wheezing and weeping.
“Oh, come on!” Indigo exclaimed. “I only beat Norman, and he did deserve it.” She furrowed her eyebrows. “And your cousin.”
“And who else before we met?” Bulk asked. “Twilight? Sugarcoat?”
“Sugarcoat deserves everything by default,” Indigo replied.
“No one does,” Bulk said. “How about Lemon? Sour would say she deserves getting beaten too, maybe.”
“Don’t compare that!” Indigo exclaimed. “Lemon is… different. You don’t touch Lemon. That’d be, dunno, like clubbing baby seals or something.”
“Funny that it’s the same we think about Twilight in Canterlot High…”
“Damn you!” Indigo exclaimed. “You’ll never give me a break about that, right?” She turned back to storm off the showroom, but she saw Sunny Flare standing by the table and checking something on her wrist device. “What are you still doing here?” Indigo asked. “Enjoying the drama?”
Sunny gave a snort. “Drama? Please. When you knocked down that chair, you turned on some kind of a silent alarm. I tuned in to the police channel and I’m now listening to some guys, angry because they had to leave the warm station and come to us.” She smirked. “Drama. I like the sound of that.”
Indigo rolled her eyes. “Shut up and run, moron!”
They ran through the showrooms. Indigo quickly lost track of where she was and where her friends were; she tried to warn them by shouting and hoping that they’d hear her. From the echo of quick steps, she learned that she succeeded.
It still didn’t help her situation. When she stopped to look around, she found herself alone, in a showroom that was unknown to her. Sure, from what she could see in the dim emergency light, it was full of closets, shelves, and comfortably-looking beds, but she was in no mood for sleeping. Especially since she could hear a faint echo of someone yelling through a megaphone far away from her.
“Shit,” Indigo muttered. “Think, Indigo… Or else someone’s gonna pull your ass from under that bed and put it behind bars.”
Suddenly, the wall on her right shook. Indigo looked at it unsurely, listening to scratches and quiet whispers.
“There’s something heavy behind it… What if we knock it over? Or break a mirror?”
“Oh, come on!”
Indigo heard a thud and saw that someone punched a hole through the thin wall. The piece of drywall fell apart, revealing Muffins and Lemon Zest, who ran into the showroom.
“Where are we?” Muffins asked.
“No idea,” Indigo replied.
“How do we get out?” Lemon looked around. “Or do we hide under the bed?”
Indigo sighed. “I don’t know. And hiding under the bed is not the best idea.”
“They’re not gonna look under every bed.” Lemon looked at Muffins, who was checking out the shelves and looking at herself in the mirrors.
“But if they find someone under one bed, they’re gonna check all the other ones, just in case,” Indigo replied. “At least I’d do that.”
“You have too much time on your hands,” Lemon muttered. “Muffins, what are you doing?”
Muffins stopped pushing the shelf aside. “There’s a door behind it.” She pointed at the door labelled “Staff only”.
“We’re not staff,” Lemon said.
“Then you can stay here and push the shelf back in place while Muffins and I hide here.” Indigo walked to the door and grabbed the handle.
The door opened, revealing a narrow corridor. There was a smoke detector in there; it seemed that someone had permanently disabled it with a hammer. The floor was littered with cigarette butts and empty cans of various beverages. One flickering light bulb was the only source of light. However, it was enough for Indigo to notice a massive metal door on the other side of the corridor.
“Let me guess,” she muttered. “It’s not open.”
“It’s emergency exit,” Muffins said. “According to the guidelines, it opens outwards and has a crash bar, allowing for a quick opening in case of fire or other emergency, which is pretty sensible, given the amount of wood in the building. My mother is a workplace safety specialist, you know.”
“Okay then.” Indigo walked to the door and pushed the crash bar. Indeed, the door opened easily, allowing them to walk out to the empty car park.
Lemon shuddered. “It’s cold in here,” she said. “Where’s the rest?”
“Probably hiding inside.” Indigo looked behind the corner of the building and quickly hid back. “One police car. No one’s there.”
“Do you think they left the keys?” Lemon asked.
Indigo raised her eyebrows. “No, Lemon. We’re not stealing a police car.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s not a computer game. They’d scrape us from the street,” Indigo replied.
“So, are we waiting here to get caught?” Muffins asked.
Indigo shook her head. “Nah, we’ll run across the car park and then walk like we were never there.”
She looked at Muffins and Lemon and counted to three. They rushed forward, their steps echoing across the empty square. Indigo looked at the buildings on the other side of the road. The dark nook between them looked like an ideal destination. No one would find them there and even if they did, the could always pretend that they were coming back from some party.
“Hey! Over there!” someone behind them shouted.
Indigo lowered her head, shuddering. They’ll shoot us, she thought. They’ll shoot me and last thing I did was arguing with Bulk…
No shot came. They reached the other side of the street and disappeared in the nook.
“Someone is running after us.” Muffins panted, pointing at the car park. “We’d better get out of here.”
“How?” Lemon asked.
Indigo looked around. The nook was almost empty, save from an old car parked by the pavement. She stared at it; at first glance, it was an old, rusty Volkswagen Beetle which apparently used to be black before someone poured blue paint all over it. Indigo blinked, thinking of another car she remembered from her past.
“Okay, little shit.” Lightning Dust smirked, looking down at Indigo. The sun was reflecting in her sunglasses and polished black combat boots. “What’s that?”
“A car,” Indigo shrugged. She was barely taller than the car, parked in some back street. It was small and old; definitely not something Indigo ever wanted to drive. She’d recently discovered Formula 1 and since the last week, her biggest dream was to drive a Ferrari. Or at least one of those white and yellow cars that were most likely to dominate Formula for years to come.
“Not exactly.” Lightning Dust leaned against the car. “It’s a Pinto. It’s probably older than our parents, it can’t go faster than eighty miles per hour, and it catches fire faster than that Skywalker dude in the last Star Wars movie…” She chuckled.
Indigo nodded. She’d seen the movie only recently, despite being technically too young to watch it. “So, what are we doing here?”
“It’s easy,” Lightning replied. “All old, shitty cars are similar. You can open it with a kick, hotwire it, and the old geezer who owns it won’t even notice it disappeared.” She shrugged. “Assuming he’s alive. Anyway, I’m gonna show you something cool. Auntie Gilda needs parts for such a car, you know.”
Lightning took two steps back. “Watch if no one’s coming, okay?”
“Okay.” Indigo saluted.
“Good.” Lightning looked around and kicked the door of the car. Something in the lock clicked and the door opened. “See? We’re going for a trip.”
“Cool!” Indigo exclaimed. Lightning jumped into the car and opened the door on the other side to let Indigo in. She sat on the seat and looked for the radio, only to find out that it wasn’t working.
“Chill out, kid.” Lightning ripped a bunch of wires from under the steering wheel and showed them to Indigo. “See? You put those two together…”
With a loud wail, the engine came to life. Lightning smirked and turned to Indigo. “We’re going for a trip.”
“Will you let me drive?” Indigo asked.
Lightning chuckled. “Maybe one day, when you grow enough to reach the pedals.” She pushed the accelerator and the car darted forward.
Indigo furrowed her eyebrows. “Hey!”
“Shut up and look for the cops,” Lightning muttered, turning right and looking around. She sped up, maneuvering between other cars. She cursed under her breath, trying to overtake a truck.
“What will the cops do to us if they catch us?” Indigo asked.
“Nothing good.” Lightning punched the radio and it turned on, filling the car with a fast-paced guitar riff. “Hey, this one’s about you. Truly, you’re gonna go far, kid.”
“Maybe if we steal a Ferrari,” Indigo replied, looking through the window and bobbing her head to the rhythm of the song. “How do you steal a Ferrari?”
“Quickly,” Lightning said. “Also, if you steal a Ferrari, everyone is looking for it. Too much trouble.” She looked at the radio. “You really like that?”
“Yup.” Indigo nodded. She wasn’t allowed to say some words that were in the song, which made it even better.
“Fuck,” Lightning muttered. “Too many better musicians logged out before you were born and now you’re left with that Kyoto Motel thing or this.”
“That’s not how they’re called!” Indigo exclaimed. “And they’re shit. Sunny Flare likes them.”
“Don’t tell that when mom can hear you.” Lightning sighed and turned into some nook. “Also, that Sunny Flare needs a crowbar to the skull. Repeatedly.”
“That’s what Sugarcoat says.” Indigo smiled.
“That retard with pigtails?” Lightning shrugged. “I’d like her if she’d shut her fucking mouth up.” She pushed the brakes, stopping by some old, decrepit garage, surrounded by a rusty fence. “There we are.”
They left the car. Lightning looked around and led Indigo to the fence. Then she pushed the small button next to the gate.
“Seems that no one’s home,” Indigo said after a while of waiting.
“Bullshit.” Lightning replied. “Gilda!” she shouted. “Get your sorry ass here!”
The door of the garage opened a little bit. Someone’s head poked out before hiding back in the building. After a few more minutes, the door finally opened and a white-haired girl wearing a brown jacket walked in. Indigo noticed that she was holding a gun.
“Is it real?” she asked.
“Holy shit, and you brought a fucking kid here.” Gilda shuddered, looking at Lightning. “Tell her to get the fuck out. Or better, get the fuck out with her!”
“Damn, Gilda, chill out,” Lightning muttered. “There are kids here. What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m packing shit up and leaving,” Gilda replied. “You know the owner of that shithole? That Tirek dude.” She sighed. “Got a visit from Five-O, and probably already started to sing about that Mercedes from the last week.”
Lightning froze. “Or anything else, really. Why didn’t you run already?”
“I said I’m packing my fucking stuff up,” Gilda muttered.
Lightning sighed. “Fuck your stuff. Light it on fire and run. I have a Pinto just for that…”
Suddenly, they heard the wailing of the siren. Indigo turned to see a police car at the end of the street.
“Damn!” Lightning exclaimed. “Indigo, get out. No, don’t run! Walk calmly and don’t look back. If you hear something, run. No one’s gonna shoot a kid running away.”
“I want to stay,” Indigo said. The car was getting closer to them.
“Get out!” Lighting exclaimed. “Stop being dumb and listen to me for once!”
Indigo nodded. She turned around and walked down the pavement, listening to Gilda and her sister yelling at each other. Just as Lightning told her, she didn’t run.
Not until a stray bullet pierced the fuel tank of the Pinto, explosion nearly deafening her.
“Indigo, are you okay?” Lemon asked.
“Yeah, I just panicked a bit,” Indigo muttered. “No one’s gonna shoot a kid running away.” She looked at the car. “We need to get out of here.”
“How?” Muffins looked at Indigo unsurely.
“I know a few tricks.” Indigo kicked the door of the car. Something in the lock clicked and the door opened. “Get in,” she muttered.
She didn’t have to say it twice. When Muffins and Lemon took their places inside, Indigo sat at the wheel and looked at the wires under the steering column.
“What now?” Lemon asked.
“Hell only knows,” Indigo replied. “I have to connect two of those wires to turn it on, but I don’t know which ones…”
“Or maybe check if the key is under the vanity mirror,” Muffins said.
Indigo sighed and opened the vanity mirror. The keys fell out on her lap. Without a word, she turned the engine on and pushed the accelerator. With screeching tyres, they darted across the empty and dark town.
“Wonder if anyone got caught,” Muffins said after a while. “I mean, they can play hide and seek with the police in there forever.”
“Let’s see.” Lemon grabbed her phone. “Hmm… Oh, boobies…”
“Where?” Indigo asked.
“Nowhere,” Lemon replied, trying to show the phone to Indigo. “This photo’s gonna be all over the internet tomorrow.”
Indigo pushed the brakes. “Chill out, if you don’t want us to crash…” She looked at the photo. It depicted Sunny Flare in her kangaroo onesie, accompanied by a ginger-haired policewoman. It seemed that she’d managed to take a selfie in the mirror with one hand already in the cuffs, and uploaded it before she was arrested. Interestingly, she even managed to slip in a few tags, including #FreeTheKangaroos, #FuckThePolice, #ThugLife, and #yolo.
“Goddamit, Sunny,” Indigo muttered, shaking her head.
“She seems pretty chill about that,” Muffins said after she saw the photo. “I don’t think she was that drunk.”
“It happened before.” Lemon tapped the screen of her phone a few times. “She was caught shoplifting and all the gossip sites went mad. The court made her clean the park, so she sold the photos of herself in that orange vest to the tabloids and made a nice sum.”
“Is she a celebrity or what?” Muffins asked. “When I do weird stuff, no one wants pics.”
“Oh, there it is.” Lemon looked at the screen. “According to the brief statement on social media, Sunny Flare, eighteen, the daughter of real estate tycoon Winford Epsom-Derby III and soap opera actress and producer Lens Flare, was arrested tonight, blah, blah, blah, such stuff. At least it seems no one else was caught.”
“Her father is called Winford Epsom-Derby III?” Muffins asked. “Really?”
“The only time I saw him, he told us to call him Win. Because he always wins.” Indigo sighed and turned left. “Peculiar dude. You probably know why she prefers ‘Flare’.”
“True.” Muffins shrugged. “Did they arrest someone else?”
“The rest is not that interesting to the media,” Lemon replied. “Also, there’s no rule against holding a sleepover in a store.”
“It’s called ‘trespassing’, I believe,” Indigo said. “By the way, don’t touch anything. Stealing a car is much worse than that.”
Lemon slid her finger down the screen of her phone. “Hmm, they didn’t catch Sour, or else there’d be news about the massacre. And since there are no news about police beating up a condescending high-schooler, they didn’t get Sugarcoat.”
“Maybe I’ll just call them?” Muffins asked. “It’ll be faster.”
“No way!” Lemon exclaimed. “You know that scene in every movie when the hero is hiding from the bad guys and their phone suddenly rings?”
“Right.” Muffins chuckled. “Also, will Sunny have trouble in school? Cloudy Kicks recently got suspended because, as she put it, she cut some bitch.”
“That was me,” Indigo muttered, looking around to see in what part of the town they were. “Also, there was no cutting and if anything, we made her friend squeal like a little bitch.”
“Also, that’s an unofficial Crystal Prep rule,” Lemon said. “As long as Win Epsom-Derby III donates money to school, his daughter could even murder the principal and she’d still be fine.”
“Your school sucks,” Muffins muttered. “And Bulk was right. First Twilight, now Starlight… You keep beating poor little girls…”
“For the record, that was mostly Sour,” Indigo said, taking a sharp turn. “Also, I’d like to remind you that they wanted to, as you put it, cut a bitch. In this case, me.” She parked on an empty square between two buildings. “We’d better ditch the car here and take the bus or something.”
“Wipe your fingerprints from the steering wheel.” Lemon handed Indigo a not exactly clean paper tissue. “Also, if I recall correctly, in five minutes the night bus will stop nearby.”
“Does it go to my house?” Indigo asked, looking at the tissue unsurely. Nevertheless, she took it and wiped the steering wheel.
“No, but there’s a bar two stops from here, and it’s open at night,” Lemon replied. “Don’t say you’re not hungry.”
“Hmm, to think about it, I think I know the owner of this car,” Muffins said when they left the Beetle and walked to the bust stop. “Maybe if I call her and tell her where it is, she won’t call the police?”
Indigo sighed. “Maybe wait until she actually learns that it was stolen.”
“True.” Muffins nodded. “No spoilers.”
A short bus trip later, they stood in front of a small establishment smelling vaguely of some exotic spices. The sign above the door read “Coriander Cumin’s Curry Clubhouse”.
“The guy sure does love alliterations,” Indigo muttered. “Also, curry? I haven’t had curry in, like, ages.”
“Same.” Lemon opened the door. “And his daughter is as hot as the curry.”
“Good thing Sour can’t hear it,” Indigo said. “Hmm, indeed,” she added when they sat at the table and she saw the tall, dark-haired girl collecting the orders from the few patrons that were still there – most exactly, a loud group of five punks in leather jackets led by a chubby girl with piercings and the asymmetric haircut.
“Hi, Saffron,” Lemon said when the waitress walked to them. “The usual for me, something more spicy for Indigo, and, umm…” She looked at Muffins.
“The spiciest thing you have,” Muffins muttered. Saffron nodded and walked behind the counter.
“Wow,” Indigo whispered. “I say, ditch Sour and make a move at the curry girl, Lemon. At least I’ll stop worrying about you becoming a punching bag.”
“I’m not sure…” Lemon shrugged. “Sour needs me.”
Indigo shook her head. Before she could say something more, her phone beeped. She looked at it. “It’s from Sugarcoat. Where the duck are you? I’m sitting in some closet with Sentry and it SUCKS!. At least they didn’t get caught, it seems.”
“How about Bulk?” Muffins asked. “And what duck?”
“Autocorrect.” Indigo smirked, but her smirk quickly faltered. “As for Bulk…”
“You fucked up?” Muffins looked at Indigo, who raised her eyebrows. “Educated guess.”
“No, not really,” Indigo muttered. “I mean, it was an awkward talk, right after I punched Sunny…”
“My educated guess is that you’re digging yourself deeper,” Lemon said. “Next time you’ll tell us that you set off the alarm?”
Indigo raised her head, but didn’t say anything. Instead, she looked at the curry Saffron had just put in front of her.
“You don’t want to talk about Bulk right now, huh?” Lemon asked.
“Mhm,” Indigo muttered, her mouth full of curry.
“You’re gonna just stuff yourself with food?”
“Yes,” Indigo replied.
Lemon leaned over the table to Indigo. “Are you sure?”
Indigo slept through most of Saturday. Sunday wasn’t much better – she went to the gym, but the weariness from both the party and the week of studying and trainings caused her to mistake the miles in treadmill settings for kilometres. After a few seconds of intense sprint, she realised her mistake and slowed down, looking around to check if no one saw her. Luckily, the gym was rather empty on Sunday, so Indigo continued her workout.
“What’s up, Indy?” someone behind her asked.
Indigo shuddered, waking up, and fell off the treadmill. Luckily, the person who startled her had good reflexes and caught her before her back could get to know the floor better.
Indigo looked up and saw a pair of yellow eyes hidden behind blonde hair belonging to the person holding her in her arms. “Muffins? What are you doing here?”
“Training,” Muffins replied. “Sorry for scaring you.”
Indigo stood up. “It’s fine,” she said. “I kinda zoned out while running. Do you know if anyone else got caught?”
Muffins shook her head. “Not really. Flash spent the whole night in a closet with Sugarcoat and he says she’s a total…” She cleared her throat. “The word started with C.”
“Yeah, that’s surely Sugarcoat,” Indigo muttered. “How about the rest?”
“I talked to Lemon and apparently Sandalwood, Sour Sweet, and Bulk made it back home… But you probably know about it from Bulk.”
Indigo furrowed her eyebrows. “Not really. We haven’t talked since Friday night. I don’t remember much from Saturday, you know...”
“Really?” Muffins shrugged and walked to the kettlebells standing neatly by the wall. “That’d explain why he was kinda salty yesterday, when we were helping Trixie find her car. It didn’t take long since I knew where it was.”
Indigo nodded, moving away when Muffins swung the kettlebell above her head. “You managed to do anything yesterday? Where did you get so much energy?”
Muffins smirked. “My brain doesn’t need much.”
When Indigo finally felt fully awake, it was Monday morning. She was just eating her breakfast, when her father lowered the newspaper he was reading.
“Isn’t that your friend?” he asked.
Indigo nearly chuckled when she saw the photo of Sunny Flare. It happened to be the same photo she’d posted online, just with her face blurred.
“Ah, so that’s why she didn’t make it to the party,” Indigo said quickly. “She tried to rob a store? Really?”
“They only mention trespassing,” Indigo’s father shrugged. “And that she wasn’t alone.”
“Oh really?” Indigo nodded. “Wonder who was she with…”
Indigo’s father smirked. “Whoever they were, they didn’t do much. Back when I was playing football, we lit the hotel on fire. By accident.”
“Yeah, sure,” Indigo chuckled. “Any other crazy things you did, dad?”
“Well… Your mother would probably be angry if I called her a thing…”
“Dad!” Indigo exclaimed, smacking her hand against her forehead. “Nevermind… You lit the hotel on fire, after all.”
“And you spent a night in a furniture store,” Indigo’s father replied.
Indigo nearly choked on her cereal. “How do you know?” she whispered after a while of coughing.
“Don’t ever play poker.” Her father chuckled. “You have a really bad liar’s face…”
Indigo smirked, seeing Sunny Flare sitting at the bus stop. For some reason, Sunny was wearing a slightly different kind of uniform, the collar of her blazer turned up to cover her bruised face. When Indigo stopped her motorbike, Sunny walked to her, limping.
“Do I have a bad liar’s face?” Indigo asked, looking at herself in the mirror of her motorbike.
“Yes,” Sunny muttered. “If they caught you, you’d stay in prison for at least twenty years because of your face alone.”
“What I thought.” Indigo looked at Sunny’s legs. “What happened to you? Police brutality? Or maybe you picked the soap under the shower?”
“I used to have rotaviral infections that were funnier than your jokes,” Sunny replied, sitting on Indigo’s motorbike. “I’d run away, but I got tangled in my onesie. And spare me nasty comments, I’m hung over like hell.”
Indigo raised her eyebrows. “Still? It’s been two days already!”
“Well, I spent only two hours at the station, but mom still bought me a bottle of wine to soothe my nerves.” Sunny smiled. “And another one when the news caught my father on his way to Dubai. Apparently Winford Epsom Derby III is currently rewriting his will.”
“That’d sound more serious if he didn’t do that twice already,” Indigo muttered, taking over a cyclist.
“This time he’s serious,” Sunny said. “If he ever hears about me in the news, all the money will go to a foundation for recovering alcoholics. My lawyer will explain that to me after he’s done with cleaning the mess after Friday.”
“Maybe it’s bad my parents are not that rich,” Indigo muttered. “If I got caught, my mom would simply murder me.”
“Savage lower classes…” Sunny muttered. “But at least I’m getting my revenge. I added a little thing to that photo of mine…”
“I’m not staring at it ever again,” Indigo said. They reached the school grounds and she started to look for a free parking spot.
“You can stare,” Sunny replied. “But if you downloaded it, you also have a trojan horse and good luck getting rid of it. All those computers are now my zombies. I already launched a distributed denial-of-service attack on the website of our police and several gossip sites…”
“English, please.” Indigo finally found a spot and parked her motorbike there.
“Their servers are too crowded and you can’t access their websites,” Sunny said. “Primitive, but fun.”
“Someone will finally connect the dots,” Indigo said. “The police, the people who wrote about you… Hack the store’s website and you’ll suddenly wake up as an unperson.”
“Maybe…” Sunny smirked. “By the way, how are you and Bulk? I didn’t exactly feel well after you knocked me out, but I’ve heard he wasn’t happy.”
“It’s fine now,” Indigo muttered.
“You’re really a bad liar…” Sunny walked to the door of the school, not waiting for Indigo. However, Dean Cadance stopped her right after she got inside of the building, letting Indigo catch up.
“Yeah, I’m pulling the socks up,” Indigo muttered.
“That too,” Dean Cadance muttered. “Sunny, the Principal wants to see you.”
Sunny gulped. “See you around, Indigo,” she muttered before walking off with Dean Cadance.
“See ya.” Indigo sighed and went to the classroom. On her way across the corridors, she checked her phone. Since Friday, Bulk neither called nor texted her. A few times, she wanted to text him, but she stopped herself from doing so, telling herself that if he started it, he also should apologise first.
“Hello,” Indigo said, seeing Lemon Zest sitting in front of the class, headphones on her ears. “What’s up?”
Lemon lowered her headphones. “I did as you told me.”
“What exactly?” Indigo sat next to her, dropping her bag on the floor. “I tell a lot of things…”
Indigo raised her eyebrows, but not for long – when it came to lying, Lemon seemed even worse than her. “And how did she take it?”
“I said I’m ditching her, not that I did,” Lemon replied. “So far I didn’t go to school with her.”
Indigo shook her head. “Baby steps, huh?”
“Kinda.” Lemon looked down the corridor. Indigo followed her gaze and saw Sour Sweet approaching them.
“Hi, Lemon,” Sour muttered. “I’ve been worried about you. Did you go to school by foot?”
“By bus,” Lemon replied, putting her headphones back on.
“Too bad,” Sour said. “Buses are dangerous. You shouldn’t take them. Someone could replace the driver and kidnap a bus.” She shrugged. “Or someone could come and shoot everyone in school…”
Lemon lowered her head, hiding her face behind her hair. Indigo stood up. “Say that again and I’ll break your legs.”
“What?” Sour backpedalled. “Did I say I’d shoot everyone in school?”
“Your bag,” Indigo muttered.
“Wha–” Sour’s eyes widened when Indigo yanked her bag off her shoulder and looked inside. “Give it back to me!”
“No gun.” Indigo shrugged and gave Sour the bag. “You can tell your doctor about it so she can see how much we trust you.”
“I trust her,” Lemon said. “She needs someone to do that for her, right?”
Indigo sighed. “Didn’t you just want to di–” She paused, seeing Lemon’s face. “Of course.”
“What are you talking about?” Sour Sweet asked.
“You’d better talk about it yourselves.” Indigo sat on the floor next to Lemon and crossed her arms. “Assuming Lemon wants to.”
Lemon didn’t say anything to Sour Sweet throughout the lesson that passed mostly uneventfully. Only after it ended, they were joined by Sunny Flare, who limped towards them and groaned, resting herself against the wall.
“How was the meeting with Cinch?” Sour Sweet asked. “Did it end in whipping?”
“Worse,” Sunny replied. “I’m kinda not exactly suspended.”
“How so?” Lemon asked. “I thought with the money your father gives to school–”
“That’s why I’m not exactly suspended,” Sunny replied. “But Cinch said that if I tarnish the school reputation again, she’ll say a word or two about me to her friend at MIT.” She sighed. “Of course, I could hack the whole recruiting process but that wouldn’t be ethical.”
“And you worry about it?” Indigo rolled her eyes. “I always assumed you think ethics is something you can eat.”
“Yeah,” Sunny muttered. “But some nerd from MIT could notice my hacking. That’d be bad.”
Indigo shook her head. “But of course.”
The Canterlot High cafeteria was loud and full of students, each of them taking their place at the tables. Sandalwood looked around and smirked – he loved the crowds, especially if they consisted of girls his age. His height and dreadlocks caused a lot of them to go mad about him, but he hardly cared. He wanted a girl who dared to tell him that he was a jackass – and incidentally, the only such girl was Sugarcoat.
His smile didn’t falter even when he did get his food. The only element of vegan food in the cafeteria that he was sure would always appear was the element of surprise; he’d long stopped to think about it, if only to maintain sanity. He took the tray and walked to the table, where Bulk was staring at his phone.
“Alas, poor Yorick!” Sandalwood exclaimed. “I knew him well, Bulky.”
“What?” Bulk asked.
“You stare at this phone as if it was Yorick’s skull.” Sandalwood smirked at Sophisticata, the head of the drama society. He was taken and her love life apparently involved Shakespeare, wine, and a fellow actress called Drama Letter, but he thought a little flirt wouldn’t hurt anyone. “What’s up, dude? Something’s rotten in the state of Crystal Prep, huh?”
“I’m fine,” Bulk replied.
“Your relationship isn’t, though.” Sandalwood shrugged. “What Muffins didn’t tell me, I figured out from the look in thine eyes, my friend. And there she is!” He turned to Muffins, who walked to their table with Flash. “How is your relationship? Better than Bulk’s?”
“Nonexistent,” Flash muttered. “That’s better, I guess.”
“Sorry, Muffins.” Sandalwood shrugged. “I’m afraid Flash still prefers horse princess from another world. Or at least the girl who is currently hanging out with that Timber boy.”
“Shut up, Sandalwood,” Bulk growled. “Or I’ll be forced to smack you.”
“I’d do that too, but after Bulk, that’d be corpse desecration.” Flash took a bite of his food.
“Oh, come on!” Sandalwood rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to fix your relations here. Bulk, you should totally call Indigo. She’s probably worried about you.”
“She should call first and apologise. Not to me, though.” Bulk shrugged. “To Sunny.”
“Screw Sunny,” Sandalwood said. “I’ve heard from Sugarcoat this girl has an IQ of 150. Most certainly, she doesn’t act like it.”
“Still, Indigo shouldn’t go around, punching people,” Bulk replied. “She’s wiser than that.”
“Yeah, but you’ve said nothing when she punched Norman,” Flash said. “We’re a bit to blame here.”
Sandalwood raised his finger. “It’s all about setting clear limits. Your doe should know how long is her chain.”
“What limits?” Muffins asked. “You treat all girls like shit.”
Sandalwood shook his head. “Not exactly. I treat like shit only the girls who allow me to do so. Like, for the first few days I test waters, checking what I can and can’t do. In case of Sugarcoat, she quickly told me to shut the fuck up and since then our relationship is flourishing.”
“Yeah, sure,” Bulk muttered. “Because it worked so well with Fluttershy.”
“Well, that was a different case.” Sandalwood blushed. “Fluttershy… involved a lot of pushing. I kept looking for my limits, pushing her into the most uncomfortable situation, until I realised that I’m, like, being a dick to her all the time, so I decided to break up. She took that well.”
“She pushed you down the stairs,” Flash said.
“But then she called help.”
“She called the police, telling them that she’d killed you.” Muffins sighed.
“But she apologised later. Before telling me to get out,” Sandalwood replied.
Bulk shook his head. “Sandalwood, did it ever occur to you to just be nice to her?”
“Why?” Sandalwood asked. “She didn’t respect herself enough to ever tell me to stop. Also, did being nice to Indigo ever help?”
“Of course,” Bulk replied. “We weren’t treating each other like test subjects, for starters.”
“Maybe not consciously,” Sandalwood replied. “On a subconscious level–”
“Sandalwood.” Bulk sighed. “Did someone tell you that you’re a dick?”
Days slowly passed by, filled with lessons, trainings, and other activities. The weather grew colder; Indigo had to put her motorbike in a garage in favour of the car, which delighted Sunny Flare, tired of “freezing her ass off while holding on for dear life”.
Sugarcoat had no such problems. She was currently lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. Or at least in the general direction of it, since she wasn’t exactly sure where her glasses were. As the details of the last night got back to her, she realised she probably didn’t want to know.
“Is it Sunday already?” Sandalwood muttered, stretching his arms and turning to Sugarcoat. Just as she’d expected, he was wearing her glasses.
“You wish it lasted that long,” Sugarcoat replied. “It’s Saturday, at best.” She sat on the bed, covering herself with the blanket. “Damn. Do you know what day it is?”
“National Chocolate Day?” Sandalwood asked, furrowing his eyebrows. “How can you even see something in those?”
“Give them back to me, bastard!” Sugarcoat exclaimed, tackling Sandalwood and throwing him out of the bed. Several rats ran away from under the furniture, jumping on the shelves and observing the whole scene. “It’s Saturday, which means we’re playing a match with New Salem.”
“It’s 6 AM…” Sandalwood muttered, sitting on the floor and staring at the pile of clothes in front of him. “I thought the game is at 3 PM?”
“Remember that those cunts poisoned us last time we played with them.” Sugarcoat put her glasses on. “They’re gonna be surprised by what they’ll find in their dinner…”
“Ah. So you have to leave on a mission.” Sandalwood nodded, grabbing a pair of boxers adorned with the picture of a cross-eyed pug from the floor. “Those aren’t mine.”
“More or less,” Sugarcoat muttered. “Guess it’s better to start early.”
“Indeed.” Sandalwood sat back on the bed. “Guess you have a place in your schedule for another mission?”
“Is that some lewd allusion?” Sugarcoat asked.
“Not really,” Sandalwood replied. “The thing is, I’m getting sick of Bulk staring at his phone all the time, hoping that Indigo would call him. He doesn’t watch where he goes and I’m afraid he’s gonna squish some kid one day.”
“Same with Indigo,” Sugarcoat said. “She said she’s waiting for him to call first and yells at everyone who suggests her to call him and chill.”
“Well, crap.” Sandalwood nodded. “That’s not even a problem with communication. That’s a total refusal of communication just because Indigo is too proud to apologise to Sunny.”
“Or rather because Bulk overreacted to it.” Sugarcoat sighed. “Sunny doesn’t mind. She has her own problems. She thought her community service would involve collecting trash in the park, but the store’s lawyer pointed out that it didn’t work the last time and now she’s gonna be helping in, as she put it, one of those places where old and sick people go to die.”
“Doesn’t sound cool,” Sandalwood said.
“But maybe it’ll teach that idiot something.” Sugarcoat shook her head. “So, what do you plan to get Indigo and Bulk back together?”
Sandalwood smirked. “Have you heard about this Halloween concert?”
When Sugarcoat reached the changing room, the rest of the team was already there. She greeted them and changed her clothes to the soccer outfit, observing Indigo closely.
“We have a problem,” Diwata Aino said. “They brought their own cook from New Salem and didn’t want to eat food we prepared for them.”
“Big surprise,” Sugarcoat muttered. “They knew we’d like to get revenge for the last year semi-final. Especially for the food poisoning part.”
“Well, it may not be that bad,” Suri Polomare muttered, scratching her butt, which caused Sugarcoat to wince. “I live at the campus and I saw that some of them drank water from that water cooler in the corridor next to their rooms…”
Sugarcoat froze. “What did you add to the water?”
Suri looked at her fingernails and smirked. “Something.”
“Okay, nevermind.” Sugarcoat sat next to Sunny Flare. “What’s up?”
“I had to take care of a bunch of kids with cancer for the whole morning,” Sunny whispered. “I was reading stories to them, then I went home and threw up like a cat on drugs.”
“I have several questions,” Sugarcoat muttered. “Mostly about the cat.”
Sunny groaned. “Oh, please… I don’t even have time to go anywhere on Halloween.”
“Too bad.” Sugarcoat shrugged. “I was just looking for someone to go to a concert with me. Maybe you, Indigo?”
Indigo raised her eyebrows, looking at Sugarcoat. “I thought we’d all go,” she said. “Why asking me, specifically?”
Sugarcoat let out a nervous chuckle. “I thought I heard you weren’t coming…”
“You can’t lie, Sugarcoat,” Lemon said. “Admit that you’ve just embraced your gayness! And since Indigo is now a fair game…”
“I’m not gay,” Sugarcoat muttered.
“Bulk and I didn’t break up.” Indigo sighed. “Also, I’m not gay either.”
Lemon lowered her head. “Aww…”
“I’m still here, you know,” Sour Sweet said. “You know, right!?”
“No one cares.” Indigo stood up. “Let’s go and kick some ass…”
Sandalwood put the dumbbells on the rack and stretched his arms, looking at himself in the mirror. Next to him, Bulk kept lifting his weights, sweating and grunting. Sandalwood looked at him and shook his head.
“What?” Bulk asked, putting the dumbbells down. “Keep exercising, dude. You don’t go here to stare at people.”
“Unless they’re girls with nice butts,” Sandalwood muttered, staring at the rack with weights.
Bulk raised his eyebrows. “You need glasses, man. You just mistook me for one.”
“What?” Sandalwood smirked. “Nah, I was just thinking. You know, there’s Halloween soon.”
“Nice.” Bulk nodded. “You finally learned how to use the calendar.”
Sandalwood’s smirk grew wider. “Sarcasm: the last refuge of modest and chaste-souled people when the privacy of their soul is coarsely and intrusively invaded. Well, sorry for invading the privacy of your soul, but I was just wondering whether you’re going to that concert Vinyl is preparing.”
“I don’t have any disguise,” Bulk replied.
Sandalwood nodded. “Well, then it’s pretty fortunate that I just happen to own a Swamp Thing costume. It’s a bit too big for me, but it should suit you, man.”
Bulk looked down on Sandalwood, his jaw dropping. “Where did you even get a Swamp Thing costume?”
“Long story,” Sandalwood replied. “And since I’m going as The Toxic Avenger anyway, I can leave the Swamp Thing to you.”
Bulk covered his face with his hand. “Don’t you think we’re gonna look weird?”
“Everyone will look weird, it’s Halloween.” Sandalwood shrugged. “Sugarcoat wanted to go as Vampirella, but apparently this costume wouldn’t be, umm… well received by the bouncers.”
“How about Indigo?”
Sandalwood froze. “I don’t know. Forgot to ask.”
Bulk smirked. “I know that while you make sure I’ll go, Sugarcoat does the same with Indigo. You two are pretty predictable.”
Sandalwood nodded solemnly and finally chose the dumbbells suiting him. “Is it wrong that we want to help the others?”
“No, it’s not,” Bulk replied. “But I have a feeling that you’re treating us like some science experiment, that’s all.”
“We?” Sandalwood chuckled. “Where did you even get that idea? We’re just trying to help, that’s all.”
“You and Sugarcoat. Help.” Bulk lifted the dumbbells. “And you’re both absolutely selfless.”
Sandalwood’s smile was of the most innocent kind. “Of course,” he said. “We’re friends, after all.”
The small, cramped basement that was the headquarters of Canterlot High Radio was unusually lively. Old, half-dismantled electronics had been adorned with pumpkins and rubber spiders. Upbeat music coming from the speakers was suddenly silenced; the lanky, blue-haired girl dressed like a vampire raised her hand, pointing at another girl, who was sitting in front of the microphone, and giving her thumbs up.
“Greetings, boys and girls,” the other girl said in a loud and clear voice, playing with one of her red earrings. “We’d like to inform that the Canterlot High’s Drama Club is still looking for new actors and actresses. If you would like to join, contact either me… Umm... That is, Sophisticata, or Drama Letter.” She took a deep breath. “In other news, we’d like to remind you about the Halloween Concert that will take place at the Concert Shell downtown, on October 31st. Everyone’s invited to join and listen to bands such as Plaid Stripes and The Great Scary Spoon, The Planeteers, Trixie and the Illusions, Flash Drive, The Rainbooms, and, of course, DJ Pon3. And now time for sport news…”
The girl in the vampire suit switched something on the console in front of her. “Zat vas fine, Sophie,” she said. “You need to come to me one day, ve’ll record some nev jingles.”
“Isn’t it a bit too early for a vampire accent, Vinyl?” Sophisticata asked.
Vinyl raised her eyebrows. “Zat’s my actual accent. Hov do you sink, vhy I never speak in public?”
Sophisticata raised her eyebrows and closed her mouth, listening to the sport news.
“And now, Snips and Snails with the fresh information from Sunnydale. Our team won 2:1 with the local high school team, Scootaloo and Octavia Melody scoring the goals. More information on this game as well as the photos on our MyStable profile will be posted after we manage to connect to them. Apparently wi-fi in Sunnydale is rather wonky.”
“My girl,” Vinyl muttered. As Sophisticata noted, without a trace of a foreign accent.
Snips’ voice in the speaker became considerably less enthusiastic. “As for the other team from our town, Crystal Prep played on their own pitch with New Salem Malformations.”
“Monstrosities,” Snails muttered.
“Whatever,” Snips said. “Apparently one of the villains of their match with our team, Suri Polomare, got sent off in the first half for a tackle that has been described by the eyewitnesses as ‘attempted murder’. Nevertheless, the visibly fatigued away team didn’t take that chance, losing to Crystal Prep 8:3, both sides presenting rather silly soccer.”
“Or frivolous football, if you’re British,” Snails added.
“Stop interrupting me!” Snips exclaimed. “Anyway, my buddy who saw that game and has no wi-fi issues says that Indigo Zap scored a hat-trick, thus becoming the top-scorer of the league. Sour Sweet and Sunny Flare scored two goals each, but the first goal of the day belonged to Frosty Orange.”
“Who played in this game only because they shamelessly copy our tactics,” Snails said.
“For photos of those ladies, ask in Crystal Prep, assuming they’ll let you in.” Snips finished with a sound suggesting that he ended up smacking his fellow reporter with a newspaper.
Vinyl shook her head and pushed some button, filling the studio with the loud electronic music. “Lófasz a seggedbe,” she muttered under her breath.
“Excuse me?” Sophisticata looked at Vinyl, who shrugged. “I guess that’s some phrase in your native language that is impossible to translate?”
Vinyl shook her head. “Nah, zat’s vhat one dude taught me.” She looked at the phone. “Okay, Octavia’s back in town.” She stood up and dropped the keys on the desk in front of Sophisticata. “Vould you close it for me?”
Sophisticata was still sitting in her place when Vinyl left. “Loh-fas a shegedbe,” she muttered to herself. “What an interesting phrase…”
The concert shell was already full of people, even though the event didn’t start yet. Some of them were eating candies they’d gathered on the way, while the others were busy looking for their friends, almost unrecognisable due to their disguises. Sunset Shimmer, dressed as some kind of a red-skinned demon was just telling someone that she hoped no actual demons would show up. Indigo stood by them and opened her mouth to ask a question, but then she decided that she didn’t want to know that much.
“Indigo!” Sour Sweet exclaimed. “Here!”
“Oh…” Indigo raised her eyebrows, seeing that Sour Sweet was wearing a blood-splattered apron and a chef’s toque, complete with rubber gloves and a large cleaver. “Pretty, umm… convincing. Is that real blood?”
“Nah, I made it from corn syrup, flour, and food colouring,” Sour Sweet replied and licked her fingers. “It’s great with mint… Almost as good as real blood.”
“Awesome,” Indigo muttered. “Where’s Sugarcoat? She was dressed as a pretty metal vulture.”
“That’s a plague doctor, you idiot!” Sugarcoat exclaimed, appearing behind Indigo. She was completely unrecognisable in black robes and a bird-like mask. “I see you’re a pirate again.”
“I’m always a pirate.” Indigo shrugged. “Why change something that works?”
Sugarcoat sighed. “So, Sunny isn’t coming? Too bad.”
“She’s having fun,” Sour Sweet muttered. “She said the hospice is already full of zombies…”
“She didn’t mean it as fun,” Indigo said. “At least I hope so.”
“What’s up, guys?” Lemon Zest exclaimed, stopping by them. “I got some great candies from Sandalwood’s friends!”
“You’d better throw them away.” Sugarcoat looked at Lemon’s costume. For a while, she was trying to find words to describe it – or at least any words that weren’t “slutty” and “pumpkin”.
“What?” Lemon asked. “I never throw away free candies. Also, are you using that mask to hide that you’re checking me out?”
“You wish,” Sugarcoat muttered. “I’d like to remind you that I’m straight and I have a boyfriend–” she turned to face someone wearing a deformed rubber mask, “–who is currently dressed as The Toxic Avenger. What the hell, Sandalwood?”
“How did you know it was me?” Sandalwood asked.
“Your shit-eating grin that is almost palpable, even with the mask,” Sugarcoat replied. “Also, the height fits and you barely managed to hide your hair.”
Indigo chuckled. “Well, Sugarcoat’s costume is better. You can’t see it’s her, unless she speaks.”
“Also, my offer still stands.” Lemon Zest embraced Sugarcoat. “I can even stand him, if you want to, umm… spice things up.”
Sugarcoat groaned. “Sour Sweet, would you be so kind and do something about your pumpkin?”
“Like slaughtering her?” Sour Sweet raised the cleaver. “What? I’m staying in character!”
“You’re too convincing,” Indigo said. “Ask Sunny if her mother plans some horror movie. You could become an actress.”
“No, thanks. They’re all freaks.” Sour Sweet looked at the crowd gathered by the stage. “When does this concert start?”
Indigo pointed at a small group of people walking around the stage, checking sound. “Guess that’d be about now…”
Suddenly, they heard an evil laughter. The technical crew disappeared from the stage, leaving it almost empty, except of the instrument and a large coffin in the middle. The lid of the coffin opened and a creature clad in black robes raised from it in an odd, stiff manner. A single spotlight was cast on it, revealing a pale, blue-haired girl with long fangs, who walked to the microphone.
“Hi, Vinyl!” Lemon Zest exclaimed, waving towards the stage.
“Greetings, mortal people!” Vinyl exclaimed, waving her cloak. “It’s alvays nice to see so much food– I mean, so many guests…”
The crowd laughed. Sugarcoat leaned to Indigo. “Does she know that Dracula in the original book learned English with a proper accent because he didn’t want to sound foreign? Also, he had a moustache.”
“Who cares?” Indigo shrugged.
“Hope zat you like to be afraid, because ze first guest tonight vill make you cower in fear!” Vinyl exclaimed, laughing. “From ze deepest pits of hell…”
“Seriously, people should read that book,” Sugarcoat muttered.
“That’s her actual accent," said a green-skinned girl dressed as a bloodied ghost, who was standing next to Sugarcoat.
“No, it’s not.” Lemon Zest poked the girl. “I know her and while she doesn’t speak much, she doesn’t usually speak like that. Also, who are you dressed as?”
“Banquo.” The girl turned in another direction. “Octavia? Can we have a word?”
“Vinyl fooled you with her accent? Guess I owe her a tenner…”
“A bank?” Lemon asked. “I know! That dude from the Christmas Carol!”
“Not a bank, Banquo. And most certainly not that, as you say, dude...”
“Shut up, you two!” Indigo hissed. “I can’t hear anything.”
On the stage, Vinyl didn’t seem to care about the audience’s banter. “So, let me introduce… Plaid Stripes and the Great Scary Spoon!”
Amidst the cheers of the audience, the band entered the stage. They looked like a proper psychobilly band, with the vocalist sporting jewellery made of spoons and armed with a hollow-body electric guitar. She was accompanied by a girl with glasses, holding a coffin-shaped double bass, and a drummer whose face was completely obscured by her hair.
Soon, however, it turned out that the most dreadful thing about the band were their skills. The bassist couldn’t exactly get the right notes on the fretless bass, but Octavia was the only person around Indigo who could point that out. However, everyone could hear that the vocalist had trouble with singing and playing the guitar at the same time. She didn’t seem to mind, though, and the lyrics were absurd enough to work.
“Is she singing about The Wolf Man making out with the Invisible Man?!” Indigo yelled to Lemon Zest, who was bobbing her head up and down, her eyes closed.
“I don’t know, but they’re, like, my favourite band ever!” Lemon jumped and slammed into Indigo, sending her into the mosh pit forming near the stage. Indigo bounced off of several people; her self-defense instincts kicked in and she jammed her elbow into someone’s stomach. She heard a grunt, but then someone else lifted her and suddenly, she found herself surfing on the top of the crowd, along with several other people.
“What the–” She thrashed, accidentally kicking someone in the ear. A sudden movement caused the people to let go of her and she fell back into the crowd, hitting something large and dropped on the ground.
“You okay there?” A pair of strong arms raised her upwards.
“Yeah,” Indigo muttered. “Thanks, mysterious man, dressed as…” She tilted her head, staring at her saviour. “A green wookie, I guess.”
“It’s Swamp Thing,” the guy replied. The song just devolved into arrhythmic noise and stopped suddenly. “Also, don’t you recognise me?”
Even though she was in the middle of the crowd, Indigo suddenly felt that the temperature dropped by a few degrees. “You.”
“Yes, me.” Bulk lifted his mask. “Having fun?”
Indigo furrowed her eyebrows. “I’m having considerably less fun since you haven’t given a sign of life for the last two weeks, you know?”
At the stage, the vocalist tried to tune her guitar, which sounded like someone strangling a cat.
“I was waiting for you to call,” Bulk replied. “That is, after you stop being such a bully.”
“Oh really?” Indigo rolled her eyes. “You’ve never been bothered by this before.”
“Sandalwood said something similar.” Bulk smirked.
“Really?” Indigo raised her eyebrows. “You talk about me and he’s acting as your gay friend?”
Bulk chuckled. “He suggested a shorter chain. And a gag.”
“Tell Sandalwood that he’s a wanker,” Indigo said. “Or wait, I’ll tell him myself.” She looked around, only to find out that the crowd carried her pretty far away from her friends.
Bulk said something, but at the same moment, the band managed to agree which song to play now, and his words drowned in cacophony. The crowd around started to dance; Indigo did her best to stay around Bulk this time which wasn’t as hard since the song only lasted for about two minutes this time.
“Okay, but seriously…” Indigo looked at Bulk and took a deep breath. “I don’t want you to think I beat people, like, for entertainment. Well, some of them. Maybe.” She shrugged. “When I was younger. But now I’m a responsible adult, right?”
“Not exactly.” Bulk chuckled. “But neither am I.”
“Yeah.” Indigo looked around. “But who is, really? That dude over there looks like one. He already took off that hockey mask, even though this girl next to him is wearing that strange costume of, umm… something.”
“Gaea Everfree,” Bulk replied. “It’s a legendary creature from the place where I was on vacation…”
Indigo nodded. “Wait, didn’t you tell that the camp owner turned into a demon or something?” She looked at the girl again and saw another person standing next to them. “No shit…”
“Indigo!” Twilight waved at her. Since the band apparently kept gathering strength to play another song, she went through the crowd with her companions to join Bulk and Indigo, who tried to hide somewhere. “Hi, Indigo,” Twilight said. “Nice to meet you. This is my boyfriend, Timber, and his sister Gloriosa.”
“Nice… to meet you too,” Indigo muttered, looking at Twilight’s costume. “You dressed as your demon form? Seriously?”
“She said we’d get on with what we did,” Gloriosa said. “I still think it’s a bit weird… So far we only scared a few kids.”
“How about him?” Indigo pointed at Timber. “Is he embracing his serial killer persona?”
“No, I just had a hockey mask at home.” Timber chuckled. “So, you’re Indigo, right? Twilight told me about you and your friends.”
“Probably all the bad things…” Indigo chuckled nervously and gave Bulk a stare before turning back to Timber. “But, well, Twilight… Your boyfriend wears a hockey mask and mine is a green wookie. Funny how things are, huh?”
“No, of course not.” Indigo smiled. “I’m just having that Scrooge moment, you know, the ghost of Halloween past.” She turned to Twilight. “Girl, I’m deeply sorry for whatever I ever did to you. Like, really.”
“Is she always like this?” Timber asked.
Bulk sighed. “I need to talk to Captain Planet about those candies I’ve seen him giving to Lemon…”
“What candies?” Indigo asked. “No candies. I just realised what a jerk I was to Twilight. And I’m not used to apologising, you know.”
“That was a very bad apology,” Twilight said. “You should consider never apologising again.”
Indigo raised her eyebrows. “Did you just made a Sugarcoat impression?”
Twilight blushed. “I think? Rainbow Dash is much better at this, you know.”
Indigo smirked. “You gotta do this when Sugarcoat’s around… I’d like to see her losing it. Can you do Sunny Flare too?”
“You mean, staring at my wrist and randomly yelling at people?”
Bulk shrugged. “I’ll never understand girls…”
“Just keep rolling, dude…” Timber nodded.
After playing three songs and a bit of music that never went anywhere, Plaid Stripes and the Great Scary Spoon finally left the stage. This was both good and bad news as the next band in the schedule were The Planeteers. Sandalwood got rid of his costume for their gig, but that was only the beginning of their problems.
“Can I get on your back?” Indigo asked. “I need to see them better…”
Bulk nodded and lifted Indigo effortlessly. As soon as she was above the crowd, she was able to spot Sandalwood on the stage, readying his drums.
“Hey, Sandalwood!” Indigo shouted. “Chains and gags? Seriously?”
Sandalwood looked at her and his eyes widened for a split second, before he smirked.
“Indigo…” Bulk muttered, trying not to laugh. “The guys here are getting a wrong idea…”
Indigo didn’t mind. “You’re a wanker, Sandalwood!” she exclaimed, greeting Sandalwood with her middle finger. “And you should totally–”
Sandalwood never learned what he should’ve done, as Bulk decided to shake Indigo off of her back, catching her before she fell on the ground.
“I told you I had to tell him that,” Indigo muttered, blushing slightly.
“It’s Sandalwood. He heard it so often that he doesn’t mind,” Bulk replied. “I sometimes think he comes from some alien race that feeds on being hated.”
“Thanks…” Indigo muttered. “I’m gonna have nightmares now…”
Bulk chuckled and hugged her. They barely noticed when The Planeteers started to play. Not only because they were focused on each other, but also due to the acoustic and eco-friendly setlist of the band hardly fitting the Halloween party. Unfortunately, the horrors of a dying planet didn’t exactly hit the mark, although when at the end of the gig Sandalwood sang a song about whale hunters on shrooms, he managed to scare off several people with the most sensitive hearing.
“Is it over?” Twilight asked when the band left the stage. “I liked it.”
“Just don’t go backstage to meet the drummer,” Indigo muttered, looking at the members of the next band who appeared on the stage. “Hey, they don’t look that bad…”
“Have you ever met Trixie before?” Bulk asked. “She’d fit Crystal Prep.”
“How so?” Indigo looked at the girl with a guitar dressed as a magician. “Does she have a great team spirit and awesome character?”
“Close.” Bulk smirked. “If she and Sugarcoat were in one room, their combined egos would suffocate everyone else.”
“Sounds fun.” Indigo stood on her toes to see the band closer. “Hmm, is one of those girls Cloudy Kicks?”
“Nah, that’d be Lavender Lace,” Bulk replied. “They’re twins, but neither of them admits it.”
“If I were Cloudy Kicks’ sister, I wouldn’t admit that either,” Indigo said. “And this is coming from someone whose sister steals cars.”
“Yeah, about that…” Bulk smirked. “Recently, Trixie made me look for her stolen car. Muffins somehow seemed to know where it was, and I know she’s not a psychic.”
Indigo smiled sheepishly. “I have no knowledge of such an occurrence.”
Bulk frowned.
“My liar’s face will put me in jail one day, huh?” Indigo asked, still smiling.
“If that’s your liar’s face, you’d better avoid police stations.” Bulk chuckled. “They could randomly accuse you of genocide and you’d still look guilty.”
Twilight turned to them. “Well, to get genocide right, there shouldn’t be anyone left to accuse you…”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Or tell that to Sugarcoat or Sour Sweet,” Indigo deadpanned. Before Twilight could reply, they heard a long, distorted guitar chord.
“And now, the Great and Powerful Trixie will show you some real magic,” the girl with the guitar said. “For she is the best guitarist of our time and don’t you dare think otherwise!”
“Humble,” Indigo muttered just before the first song started.
She had to admit that it was catchy. Soon, the crowd around her started to dance and she had no other choice but to join them, jumping up and down and bouncing off of other people. Some people were crowdsurfing again; somewhere in the middle of the second song, Lemon Zest literally fell on Indigo’s head.
“Woohoo!” Lemon’s voice was quite audible, despite the noise around. Indigo helped her up, but she staggered and nearly fell. “I love this band! And I love you, Indy!”
“Thanks, but I’m kinda taken,” Indigo replied, backpedalling towards Bulk. Being close to him had one big advantage: the crowd around him would immediately part.
“Not a problem at all…” Lemon embraced Indigo and walked with her to Bulk.
“What’s up with her?” Bulk shouted, deafening those around, who weren’t already deaf because of the music.
“She’s having fun!” Indigo looked around. It seemed that Sour Sweet was trying to get to them, but she got stuck in the crowd of some excited teenagers. “She’d find a way to get hammered even on a Mother Superior’s birthday in one of those monasteries where you can say two words a year!”
“Impressive…” Bulk nodded.
Lemon was still around Indigo when the song ended and the crowd cheered. “Tricks up my sleeve…” she muttered. “Dicks up my–”
“Enough, Lemon…” Indigo turned to Bulk. “Don’t you dare imagine us two together!”
Bulk raised his hand. “I wouldn’t even think of it!”
“Yeah, sure…” Indigo chuckled. “Where’s Twilight when you need her? Lemon would probably find her cute or something.”
“Twilight was tired of the noise.” A chill ran down Indigo’s spine when she heard the voice behind her. However, when she turned back, she saw Timber standing there. “They’re in the park with Gloriosa.”
“Ah, good.” Indigo handed Lemon to Timber. “Would you be so kind and help her get some fresh air? We’d be very grateful.”
“That’s probably the first time someone trusts a guy dressed as a movie serial killer with their friend…” Bulk chuckled.
“Said the green wookie,” Indigo muttered. “So, will you help us?”
“Umm…” Timber looked at Lemon, who opened her eyes.
“You’re not Twilight.” Suddenly, she leaned forward and threw up on his shoes.
“What the hell?!” Timber exclaimed.
“Yeah, we’d better get out,” Indigo muttered just as the next song started.
Flash ran the pick down the strings of his guitar and turned one of the tuning keys. Trixie and The Illusions were about to finish and they were going to be next. Normally, he’d already be prepared and focused. Unfortunately, this time Sandalwood decided to stay at the backstage, probably just to mess with him.
“And remember, you’re kinda like in Back to the Future, man,” Sandalwood said. “You play your best tunes, while I go into the crowd and try to bring Bulk and Indigo back together.”
“If we’re talking about this movie, I hope he’ll end up punching you,” Flash muttered. “Because if he doesn’t, I’ll have to do that.”
“No problem,” Sandalwood said. “As long as they end up talking to each other.”
Ringo walked to Sandalwood. “You mean that girl who just called you a wanker? If I recall correctly, she was sitting on his back. And trust me, if a girl sits on your back, she usually talks to you. Unless it’s one of those weird ones.”
“She is weird, you know.”
Brawly Beats stood up, stretching his arms with a drumstick in each hand. “Sandalwood, get lost before I shove one of those where they don’t belong.”
“I’m just trying to tell you my plan.” Sandalwood groaned. “Flash, your girlfriend got it and you can’t? Dude, that’s just–” He was interrupted when Muffins walked in, wrapped in toilet paper like a mummy. “What? Are they still there?”
“Well, that’s a problem,” Muffins replied. “They just left.”
“Damn,” Sandalwood muttered. “How are we going to get them together now?”
Muffins smirked. “They left together. Guess the quest is done, now.”
Sandalwood only groaned.
The silence in the park was interrupted by only a few, mostly natural noises, such as crickets chirping, leaves rustling, and Lemon Zest throwing up by the shrubbery. Indigo sighed and shook her head, holding her hair, while Bulk, Gloriosa, Twilight, and Timber watched the sight from a safe distance.
“Are you done?” Indigo asked.
“Mhm.” Lemon nodded. “No more candies and muffins at the same time for me.”
“Damn, Lemon…” Indigo groaned. “When you said you may die early, it wasn’t a self-fulfilling prophecy. What’s next, bath salts?”
“No, just a bath,” Lemon replied. “Will you take me home?”
“Your home.” Indigo muttered. “We leave you by the door, ring the bell and run. You will explain that to your father.” She turned to her audience. “I have a car and I don’t drink since I think my body is a temple. Someone wants to go home too?”
“My body’s a temple too.” Lemon Zest hiccuped. “That one in Lopburi, where they let monkeys shit all over the place.”
“Well, we may go back to the concert,” Timber said. “I mean, my shoes are a bit dirty, but–”
“Hey, I thought we were going to my house…” Twilight smiled at Timber. “My parents are visiting my brother…”
“What.” Indigo raised her eyebrows.
“What!?” Gloriosa turned to Timber who smiled sheepishly.
“Wow.” Bulk nodded.
“Umm… So…” Indigo grinned. “I’m gonna take my car and take everybody home so they, umm… can talk about their…” She looked at Twilight. “Problems? Issues? Whatever. Or, in case of Lemon, sleep them off, okay?”
“Okay,” Gloriosa replied, glaring daggers at Timber. “We’ll definitely have to talk.”
Half of an hour later, Indigo managed to get rid of most of her passengers. She dropped Lemon Zest at the door of her flat—literally—and drove by Twilight’s house to leave her there with Gloriosa and Timber. After that, she drove back to the concert shell, parking near the cluster of trees.
“Seems that we missed Flash’s band,” Bulk muttered, listening to the echo of electronic beats coming from the stage. “He’s gonna be angry tomorrow.”
“Flash? Angry?” Indigo shrugged and grabbed her phone. “I got a message from Sour Sweet. Indigo, honey, where are you? Of course you ditched us, cunt. Lovely.” She tapped the bottom of the screen. “Had to take Lemon home. She’s an idiot. Be right back.” She sent the message. “Done.”
“So, are we going back there?” Bulk asked. “Vinyl is playing, it seems.”
Indigo turned to him and smiled. “Later. I mean, we’re in the park, in a car, no one’s there… Remember what we were talking about on my birthday?”
Bulk shrugged. “That was a while ago… Hell, and we spent most of it not talking to each other.”
“Don’t mention it,” Indigo muttered. “If I recall correctly, I said we need to do something spontaneous…”
“So you mean…” Bulk’s jaw dropped. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” Indigo checked the pockets of her pirate uniform. “That’s why I went to the store after we escorted Lemon to her house.” She chuckled, producing a few packs of condoms. “Learning from Sugarcoat. The guy gave me a weird look when I said I needed a few sizes…”
Bulk smacked his forehead with his hand. “You could’ve asked.”
“That’d ruin the surprise.” Indigo smirked and tackled Bulk, accidentally turning off the lamp inside of the car. A while later, the car horn went off for a moment, followed by the windscreen wipers being turned on.
“Indigo?” Bulk asked.
“Yes?”
“How did you get a scar there?”
“Climbing accident.” The answer was punctuated by the car rocking slightly and the right turn indicator turning on. “Don’t ask. I’ll tell you later…”
An empty bottle fell off the windowsill and broke, waking Sunny up. She groaned and looked around, noticing that she’d fallen asleep after coming back from the hospice, still wearing the same clothes as she had at night – a greenish lab coat over a completely unfashionable tracksuit. The shards of glass on the floor reminded her that she’d thought that getting drunk was the best way of forgetting of what she’d seen. Thumping pain in her head told her that it wasn’t.
To her credit, when twenty minutes later Sunny Flare walked out of her house and headed towards the bus stop, no one could say how hungover she was. Dressed in her pristine uniform, with perfect make-up, she looked as prim and proper as usual, ready to face every challenge the world had in store.
Her expression faded slightly, when she didn’t see Indigo’s car coming to pick her up from the bus stop. She groaned, wiping her nose – the day was rather cold and she immediately felt sick.
“No wonder…” she muttered to herself, buttoning her blazer. “Everyone in the hospice is sick, therefore I must be too.”
She looked around, but Indigo still weren’t there. Eventually, the bus came and Sunny had no other choice than to take it, carefully wiping the railing with hand sanitiser before grabbing it. As usual, the bus was full of people, sleepy, coughing, and badly dressed. Sunny gritted her teeth, and looked at the screen of her wrist devices, filled with lines of code. She raised her eyebrows – it was apparently something she was working on before the alcohol finally overcame her. All of the variables had nonsensical names and the program ended with a random cluster of letters when Sunny’s fingers had slipped off the keyboard.
“Was I trying to turn off all the power plants in the country with that?” Sunny whispered to herself. “Meh, I’d better save this file.”
The bus stopped in front of the school. Sunny jumped on the pavement and looked around before going towards the building. Indigo wasn’t there; several students looked back at Sunny, apparently surprised that they didn’t come to school together. Sunny shrugged and walked to the classroom.
She met Lemon Zest sitting by the wall, next to the classroom door, away from the other classmates. Interestingly, she wasn’t wearing her headphones, instead staring into the distance, her chin rested on her knees.
“How was Halloween?” Sunny asked, sitting by Lemon’s side.
“I don’t know, they didn’t tell me yet,” Lemon muttered, rubbing her temples. “I think I teleported to my bed at some point and then Sour Sweet came to drag me to school.”
Sunny nodded. “Where’s she now?”
“She said she needed to have a shit,” Lemon replied.
Sunny winced. “That’s a bit more than I wanted to know.”
“Then why did you ask?”
Sunny looked at Lemon, and for a moment they were both silent, staring at the opposite wall. Finally, Sunny said, “So, I was thinking…”
“What?”
“You’re still afraid that you’re gonna die when you’re twenty-five, right?” Sunny asked.
“Yes,” Lemon Zest replied. “Why are you asking?”
“I spent a day in a room with a woman who was ninety-five.” Sunny Flare shuddered. “Dying at twenty-five seems like a nice alternative. You know, for starters, you remember that I’m not your daughter. And you can walk. Not to mention seeing or eating normally. Really, if I’m going to live to that age, I’m gonna shoot myself while I still can.”
Lemon nodded. “Would you do that to me if I got sick?”
“What?” Sunny raised her eyebrows. “After leaving the hospice, I handled my feelings like a true adult and now my head feels like I got ran over by a steamroller. It’s most definitely too early to discuss assisted suicide.”
“I’ll ask Sour Sweet, then.”
Sunny Flare sighed and shook her head. At the same moment, they heard the nearby door opening and saw Sour Sweet. She slammed the door shut and headed towards her friends. At first, she failed to notice Sunny and walked by her, but then, she turned back to her, saying, “Oh, hai Sunny.”
“Hello,” Sunny replied. “How was, umm… the visit in the toilet?”
“I have colon cancer,” Sour Sweet shrugged. “Or I just ate too many burritos.”
“Why did I even come to school today?” Sunny muttered, rubbing some sanitiser into her hands. “Could’ve called in sick, instead of sitting here, hungover, talking about death, illness, and shit.”
“Three most certain things.” Lemon nodded.
“Don’t forget taxes,” Sour said. “And that disappointment in your mother’s eyes when she’s looking at you.”
Lemon hid her face in her hands and wept.
“You probably shouldn’t have mentioned her mother,” Sunny said.
“What?” Sour Sweet raised her eyebrows. “I was talking about my mother!”
Sunny threw her head back, banging it against the wall.
The equations were filling the page, piling at the top of one another like old cars in a junkyard. Sunny gritted her teeth; she tried to achieve certainty without doubt and truth without error, but placing the foundation of knowledge in mathematics was pretty hard when biochemistry was hitting her hard. More exactly, against her better judgement, Sunny’s liver kept breaking the alcohol down to acetaldehyde, causing the numbers to blur and prance around the piece of paper while she tried to focus.
“Oh, feckin’ cumbubble…” she muttered to herself.
“What?” Indigo asked, raising her eyebrows.
“I’m getting an F, that’s what,” Sunny whispered, lowering her head and staring at the equations. They were apparently trying to tell her something, but her ears felt like the sound was cranked up to eleven and all she was getting was feedback. She grabbed a pen and tried to solve the problems, ending up getting lost somewhere in the forest of seventh roots and multi-storey degrees. When the test was over, she groaned and rested her head on the table.
“Are old people really that tiring?” Indigo asked.
“I caught something in the bus,” Sunny replied. “Why didn’t you pick me up?”
“I didn’t sleep at home.” Indigo smirked. “And my car doesn’t work. I need to clean the upholstery.”
“What happened to it?” Sunny looked at Indigo and noticed that her uniform was even messier than usual; it seemed that she’d put it on without taking the pirate outfit off first – she was wearing long, black sirwal under her skirt.
Indigo blushed. “Lemon puked on it.”
“Hey, I didn’t!” Lemon exclaimed.
“You were high as a kite, how do you know?” Indigo groaned.
“You’re making that face again…”
“Oh, fuck me…” Indigo shook her head and turned to Sunny. “What is wrong with my face?”
Sunny shrugged. “Dunno. I need some painkiller. And coffee. And a loaded gun.”
Somebody patted her back. She turned in her chair and saw Sour Sweet, who handed her some white and green pill. “Thanks,” she said, swallowing it.
“You’re welcome,” Sour Sweet said. Something about her smile didn’t seem right.
“That was a painkiller, right?” Sunny asked.
“Yes.” Sour grinned. “Among other things.”
“Are you sure?” Sunny managed a half-smile. The headache slowly disappeared, replaced by a warm feeling in her stomach. “Or actually, nevermind…”
“At that rate, you’ll need a new liver soon,” Indigo muttered. “Especially with the drinking.”
“I didn’t drink, you holy teetotalling virgin,” Sunny replied. “Does my face say that I lie?”
“No,” Indigo said. “Your breath.”
She ducked right in time to avoid the ruler being thrown at her.
For Sunny, the time passed in a blurry haze, as if she went rafting in a rough, rocky rapid. However, the lunch break came, throwing her raft on the rocks of hangover, and leaving her there, bloodied, cold, and bruised.
“Sunny, are you listening to me?” Indigo asked.
“Her eating disorders are coming back,” Sugarcoat said, staring at Sunny’s plate. “Although I also think this isn’t something one should give to teenagers to keep them in good health.”
“I don’t have an eating disorder, you twat,” Sunny muttered, rubbing her temples and looking at her food. “Also, I need a few hours of sleep which I don’t get because I have to learn after I’m done with nursing old people.”
“About that,” Indigo said. “Coach Sombra wants to see you at the training. Not to mention that the philosophical society keeps asking me about you.”
“Ask him if he knows what a court order is,” Sunny replied. “I won’t help the team if I end up dropping the soap in prison. As for the philosophical society, instead of discussing death according to various philosophers, they can come to the hospice and experience it first-hand.”
“I guess they’d be thrilled,” Indigo muttered. “Someone really does it because they want to?”
“You’d be surprised,” Sunny said. “I ended up with a bunch of volunteers. No one from our school, though, thank fuck.”
“I wonder why…” Lemon Zest shrugged. “So many people in here and no one wants to help?”
“Maybe because we’re not a bunch of hippies who feel guilty because they’re better off than the others,” Sugarcoat replied. “Like Sandalwood.”
“Or maybe we think that earning and investing money in geriatrics would help more than volunteering ourselves,” Sour Sweet said. In the ensuing silence, she looked at the faces of her friends. “What? Why does everyone look so surprised every time I’m trying to say something deep?”
“No one invests money in geriatrics anyway,” Sugarcoat muttered. “Can we stop talking about old people? I’m trying to eat.”
“Yeah.” Sunny nodded. “It’s enough for me that I’ll have to go there for the next month…”
The changing room, just like the rest of the building, was painted in pastel colours, which always made Sunny want to punch someone. She looked at the papers she had been given in the court, and sighed, seeing how many more hours she had to spend there.
What was worse, when she arrived to the hospice after school, she found out that Sweet Leaf was already there, trying to tie her long, green hair in a ponytail, so they wouldn’t get in her way. Always energetic and upbeat, Sweet Leaf was one of the volunteers, and she was universally adored by the staff, the patients, and their families alike.
Needless to say, Sunny Flare hated her guts.
“How was your day?” Sweet Leaf asked, emerging from behind the row of lockers. She was wearing only her underwear, but it didn’t seem to bother her. “We had an interesting discussion with Sandalwood and Starlight today, about modern feminism.”
“Sandalwood and feminism?” Sunny shook her head. “I can’t wrap my head around it.”
“Yeah, he’s still in the stone age here,” Sweet Leaf said. “Also, you know Sandalwood? Seems that everyone knows him…”
“Unfortunately.” Sunny took off her blazer and opened her locker. “I was gonna ask… Why did you volunteer to go here?”
Sweet Leaf shrugged. “Well, I chose this place because my grandma was here before she died. Also, I always wanted to become a doctor, so…”
“I once wanted to be a plastic surgeon,” Sunny said. “They make a lot of money.” She took off her wrist devices – any jewellery was banned by someone who thought it’d transfer bacteria from patient to patient. “But in case of electronics, you don’t have to deal with people.”
“A plastic surgeon?” Sweet Leaf asked. “No, I’d go to Africa to help people.”
Sunny slammed the door of her locker and turned to Sweet Leaf. “Another one? Please, if everyone who says that actually went there, they’d have more doctors than patients.” She rolled her eyes. “Sure, you may become a doctor, but as soon as your parents stop giving you money, you’ll stop thinking about Africa.”
She couldn’t help but smirk, seeing that Sweet Leaf finally shut up, her mouth agape. However, this moment of triumph didn’t last long. “What do you know?” Sweet Leaf asked. “Maybe my parents don’t give me money? And maybe I really want to help people?”
“Sure. You are at school and then you come here,” Sunny muttered. “Unless you whore yourself at night, I don’t believe you’re earning your money yourself.”
“Not everyone is like you,” Sweet Leaf replied. “No wonder you ended up getting drunk and breaking into a store… You think everyone is horrible and that makes you–”
“Oh, stop being my psychologist!” Sunny groaned. “Can we, like, go upstairs and work, so I can do my hours and get out of here? Talking to me is not necessary.”
“You must be pretty sad, huh?” Sweet Leaf asked when they left the changing room.
“And you can’t shut up,” Sunny muttered. “If you let me work, I’ll eventually leave and you won’t have to look at my face if it ruins your little world that much…”
“Please, it takes more to ruin it than that,” Sweet Leaf muttered. “And if you’re really so cynical, I can always send you a postcard from some place in Africa.”
“Okay then.” Sunny smirked. “Or you can send me a postcard from any famous hospital you end up in. I’ll be waiting.”
“There you are, you two!” The head nurse, Ms. Care Heart, approached them, staring in horror at the state of their lab coats. “Someone has to help me bathe Ms. Cardigan.”
“I think Sunny will gladly do that…” Sweet Leaf said with the most innocent smile on her face.
When Sunny reached home, the first thing she noticed was a bottle of wine standing on the coffee table, next to a stack of papers and several sharpies in different colours – an unmistakable sign that her mother was working on a new script.
“Later, mom,” Sunny muttered when her mother walked to the cabinet to grab another glass. “I think I still smell of old people.”
She went directly to the bathroom and came back fifteen minutes later, wrapped in a sleeping gown. Then, she sat on the couch next to her mother and looked at the script, marked with notes and colourful lines.
“So, how was your day?” Sunny’s mother gave her a cup of wine. Sunny looked at the bottle and saw that there was only some of it left at the bottom, meaning that the famous Lens Flare worked for quite a while.
“Mostly fine,” Sunny replied. “Except that one volunteer who’s a cunt.”
Sunny’s mother nodded. “And what do you want to do about that?”
Sunny took a sip of her wine. “A few things come to mind.”
“Good.” Sunny’s mother smirked. “Nice to see that you can deal with your problems yourself…”
“Yeah…” Sunny furrowed her eyebrows. “Gotta do my homework.”
She walked upstairs, listening to her mother saying something about the importance of education and trying not to burst in laughter, thinking how her mother’s life turned out after meeting the heir of a real estate empire.
After Sunny locked herself in her room, she opened a drawer and grabbed some device. With a USB plug that looked like it’d been yanked out of some other device and soldered to a piece of copper wire wrapped in orange tape, she connected it to her wrist devices. The screen went black, and then filled with some symbols.
“Okay, Sweet Leaf…” Sunny muttered. “Let’s see what secrets you keep…”
Getting the contents of Sweet Leaf’s phone was far too easy for Sunny. When she finally gained the access to the gallery, she was disappointed – not because there was nothing in there, but because of how little challenge it presented.
“Not bad…” Sunny nodded, opening a rather inconspicuous folder and smirking. “Not bad at all, Sweet Leaf. Would be a shame if those ended up all over the internet…”
She downed a glass of wine and lay on her bed, untying the belt of her sleeping gown. “But worry not. I’m only gonna need them for private use…”
The car spun on the car park, leaving traces of tyres in the snow and skidding to a halt right next to another vehicle. Indigo turned off the engine and looked at Sunny Flare, who was slightly pale.
“I know you get crazy when you see the first snow, but contain your enthusiasm,” Sunny muttered. “If you crash into something, Cinch will find a way to somehow make it my fault and I’m done.”
“Don’t worry,” Indigo replied. “Unlike my certain friend, I didn’t mow down a lamppost when my parents gave me a car.”
“That doesn’t make you immune to accidents.” Sunny got out of the car and nearly fell down, slipping on the snow. “Do you even have winter tyres?”
“Of course,” Indigo replied. “Bulk helped me replace them.”
“Yeah, because that sounds pretty reliable.” Sunny muttered as they walked across the car park. “Guess you then had sex in the garage or something, and forgot to tighten the nuts and one day the wheels are gonna fall off at the full speed and the paramedics will scrape us off the wall. No, thanks. I at least want to look good in a coffin.”
“Nah, we made it to Bulk’s bedroom,” Indigo replied. “After checking that Featherweight was away, that is.”
Sunny stopped and looked at Indigo. “That’s more than I wanted to know.”
“You started it.” Indigo smirked. “And you don’t want to know what we did in my car…”
Sunny winced, shuddering. “Gross!”
“Well, that’s just gross,” Flash muttered, staring at his phone. Several people walking down the corridor looked at him, making him smile sheepishly.
“Did someone sext you?” Bulk asked. “I always knew your bassist was weird.”
“Not him.” Flash showed his phone to Bulk. “Muffins.”
“That’s indeed gross,” Bulk muttered, raising his eyebrows. “I mean, weisswurst and bacon looks fine, but why putting pineapple on it? And, umm… Peanut butter?”
“Somebody, somewhere, probably finds that tasty.” Flash shrugged. “Or maybe she sent me this so I could save her with my superior cooking skills.”
Bulk smirked. “You’d better take her to some restaurant. Unless you think hospitals are the best place for a date.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my cooking,” Flash said. “I only can’t bake cakes. Somehow, I always end up with bread.”
Bulk shook his head. “Damn. Now I wonder what’d happen if you two ended up in a kitchen. Guess we’d have to fight the results later.”
Flash nodded. “Dude, that’d make for a really weird comic book.”
“Did someone mention a comic book?” Sandalwood joined them, carrying a stack of papers. “I tried to draw one, once. Then my kindergarten teacher took away my crayons and told my parents to take me to a psychologist.” He shrugged. “Guess eldritch horror doesn’t sell in our generation.”
“Why do you even need those?” Flash asked, staring at Sandalwood's papers—mostly colourful leaflets—and took one of them. “Studying for an exam in advertising or what?”
“Nah, most of them are Starlight’s,” Sandalwood replied. “Except of this one. I took it from some freezing cutie.”
Flash looked at the leaflet. “Our Town Ski Resort,” he read. “Snow guaranteed, perfect place for spending New Year’s Eve, and so on, and so forth. Great atmosphere, cheap prices, stuff like that. I wonder where’s the catch?”
“They eat people,” Sandalwood replied. “Though we were saying the same about Fort McColt, and they didn’t eat us yet.” He turned to Bulk. “Not that I’d mind being eaten by your cousins.”
“Maybe because they know you’re poisonous,” Bulk muttered.
Flash gave the leaflet back to Sandalwood. “On a side note, we don’t have any plans for New Year yet.”
Bulk chuckled. “It’s November. No one does.”
“I do,” Sandalwood said. “Death by snu-snu.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Bulk smirked.
“I didn’t invite you…” Sandalwood backpedalled, nearly dropping the leaflets.
“I really didn’t want that mental image.” Flash shuddered. “So, anyway, anyone’s up for some skiing?”
The door to a nearby classroom suddenly broke in half. A giant cloud of smoke seeped through the hole, followed by a girl wearing a charred labcoat.
“I love skiing,” she muttered before fainting, conveniently landing in Flash’s arms.
“Muffins?” Flash asked. “What were you doing in the chemistry lab during the break?”
Muffins opened one eye. “Pancakes.”
Flash looked at Sandalwood and Bulk, who shrugged in perfect synch. “Nevermind…”
The snow kept falling when the school ended and since Sour Sweet’s puny car refused to work in low temperature, Indigo ended up offering her a lift. As Sour Sweet usually drove Lemon home, this soon led to Indigo giving everyone a lift.
“I swear, if you crash, I’ll kill you,” Sour Sweet muttered, as they drove through the blizzard.
Indigo blinked, trying to find the road while seeing almost nothing. “You can always go home by foot,” she muttered. “What the hell is with that weather?”
Sugarcoat, who was sitting in the backseat, stuck between Sunny Flare and Lemon, pushed them aside to grab her phone. “The weather app says ‘mild snow’. Probably because they forgot to put ‘fucking apocalypse’ in there…”
“You needed an app to check if it was snowing?” Sunny rolled her eyes. “Even I can see the weather without an app and I designed one to keep track of toilet paper use.”
“Will it work on my phone?” Lemon asked. “It has that other operating system…”
Sunny shook her head. “May be a problem, as this system is already full of shit…”
“Shut up!” Indigo exclaimed. “I’m really gonna crash because of you…”
“You’re driving ten miles per hour,” Sugarcoat said.
“That’ll still leave a dent in my car…”
“And your pride, I guess…” Sugarcoat shrugged.
“Could you go faster?” Sour Sweet asked. “Some little shit wants to die…”
“What the–” Indigo looked forward and pushed the brake. The car didn’t stop. The brake pedal thrashed under her foot, as ABS kicked in; several lights flashed on the control board as track control and other electronics joined it to stop the car, skidding along the road.
Finally, it stopped inches from the guy standing in the middle of the road with a camera. When she recognised him, Indigo opened the door and rushed to him, her shoes slipping on the snow.
“Featherweight, you retarded dickhead, what are you doing here?” she asked.
“It’s snowy, winter surprised the roadworkers, so I’m taking photos,” Featherweight replied. “Also, Bulk wants to invite you over for Christmas.”
“Nice,” Indigo muttered. “But why are you taking photos in the middle of the road?”
“No one’s driving a car in this weather.”
“I do!” Indigo exclaimed, but Featherweight didn’t listen to her, seeing that Sour Sweet left the car.
“You must be Sour Sweet,” he said, raising the camera. “I’ve heard that you were interested in modelling and I sent you a message, but you’ve never replied.”
“That’s because I block little creeps on sight,” Sour Sweet muttered.
Featherweight approached her and took a photo. “Still, I could make you a nice portfolio, if you ever consider a career in–”
Sugarcoat took a handful of snow and put it on Featherweight’s forehead. “For your information,” she said, “Sour Sweet hates modelling due to her mother being a little dumb back when Sour was a kid. In fact, Sour hates everything and it’s apparently her mother’s fault, so don’t think you’re special.”
“Shoving me into a pile of snow was a bit of an overkill, though,” Featherweight muttered.
“You only think that because Lemon managed to take your camera from her before she shoved it somewhere else,” Sugarcoat said. “Who even told you that Sour can be into modelling?”
Featherweight pointed at Indigo, who was holding Sour Sweet’s arms, preventing her from attacking. “Her.”
Sugarcoat sighed and shook her head, turning to Indigo. “Guess Christmas is cancelled then,” she muttered. “All because you decided to play deadly pranks on your boyfriend’s brother.”
“That was months ago,” Indigo said.
Featherweight stood up. “Yeah, and you don’t play games with me anymore. You two always tell me to leave when you want to–”
“Finish this sentence and I’m releasing her,” Indigo muttered.
“No, I’m not gonna kill him now,” Sour Sweet said. “I’d like to hear more about that…”
With a natural grace, Indigo managed to get from holding Sour Sweet to dropping her on the ground and landing on the top of her in a perfectly executed schoolgirl pin in just a few moves. “You don’t.”
“May I get my camera back?” Featherweight asked, watching the scene in front of him. “I won’t tell Bulk.”
“Sure.” Sunny gave him the camera. She blushed. “I’d like a photo for me too.”
Sugarcoat chuckled. “Don’t be so shy, Sunny,” she said. “We all know your Japanese boyfriend is only a cover.”
“He is real,” Sunny muttered. “In fact, I need to call him. He was supposed to order something in Vietnam for me.”
“An engagement ring?” Lemon Zest asked. "Aww..."
“No, some shitty electronic toy.” Sunny pulled up the sleeve of her blazer and started typing something on her wrist device. “And before you start with immature jokes, the Vietnamese company who is making those accidentally created a circuit that, with some tweaking, greatly helps in hacking mobile phones.” She sent the message and smirked. “They still wonder why it got so popular.”
“I swear, I’m throwing my phone away,” Indigo muttered, helping Sour Sweet up. “I’m gonna buy one of those brick-like phones to whack Sunny over the head with when I notice she’s too interested in my stuff.”
Sunny’s wrist device beeped. She tapped on the screen, causing it to display a row of kanji. “Damn. The stocks were sold out and it now costs almost two and half million dongs.”
Indigo chuckled. “Sour, grab a knife. We’ll get Featherweight’s. That’s always a start.”
Sugarcoat smacked herself in the forehead. “You should hang out with Sandalwood more often, sharing dick jokes.”
“I’m not giving you anything,” Featherweight said.
Sunny rolled her eyes. “That’s about a hundred bucks. No problem.” She shuddered. “Can we get back to the car?”
“Sure,” Indigo replied. “As long as no one stands in the middle of the road…”
“Hey!” Featherweight exclaimed.
“Yell as much as you want, you were standing in the middle of the road.” Indigo sat in her car. “And sorry for not giving you a lift, but my car’s full. Unless you fancy a place in the trunk or at Sour Sweet’s lap.”
Sour Sweet smirked at Featherweight. “You’d be very welcome…”
“No, thanks.” Featherweight looked around and pointed at his camera. “I need to, umm… take photos and stuff.”
“Ah, okay then.” Indigo closed the door and drove slowly through the snow.
After leaving each of her friends in their respective houses, Indigo drove to the gym. She hoped Sunny would go with her, but Sunny decided to spend that day at home, telling the hospice staff that she was snowed in and couldn’t get to them.
It wasn’t far from truth. When Indigo parked by the gym, she was sure that she’d have to spend some time after training trying to find which pile of snow was hiding her car. Not to mention scraping ice off the windscreen.
Trying not to think about it, Indigo changed her clothes and entered the gym floor. It was unusually empty—courtesy of a bad weather—but Indigo heard the sound of a treadmill running, complete with groans and fast, rhythmical steps.
“Muffins?” Indigo asked, walking closer.
Muffins jumped off the treadmill, spinning in mid-air and landing perfectly in front of Indigo. Soon, however, she coughed, resting herself against Indigo’s shoulder.
Indigo raised her eyebrows. “Are you okay?”
“Mhm,” Muffins replied, panting heavily. “I thought I was running eleven kilometres per hour, but it turned out to be eleven miles per hour…”
“Not bad.” Indigo nodded. “I thought only I keep getting mistaken.”
“Yeah, but it took me fifteen minutes to realise.” Muffins sighed. “I’m gonna cough up my lungs with all that smoke…”
“You smoke?”
“No, I was making pancakes in the school’s science lab,” Muffins replied. “It didn’t go as planned.”
Indigo raised her hand, but after a while, she decided that asking all the questions she came up with would probably be rude. “You and Lemon Zest should hang out more often…”
“Does she like pancakes?” Muffins asked. “Also, Bulk is here. He’s showing Flash some new training regime.”
Indigo stepped on an elliptical trainer. “How’s with you and Flash?”
“Fine, I guess,” Muffins replied. “We cleaned the mess in the lab together. And he mentioned spending New Year’s Eve skiing in some cool place he heard about…”
“Skiing, you say?” Indigo smirked. “I need to ask Bulk if he goes there too. Like, I’m already in for an awkward Christmas dinner with his parents, so I guess we can agree to spend New Year somewhere else. Preferably far away.”
“Indeed.” Muffins rubbed her calves. “I’ll better find some exercise that doesn’t require legs. I still have to go back home and if Flash’s car won’t start, I only have my skis to work with.”
“You carry skis with you?” Indigo panted. Talking while using the elliptical trainer wasn’t helping her in proper breathing. “It wasn’t even snowing in the morning.”
Muffins did the side split. “I used to be in the biathlon team, but then I shot the coach in the ass…” She groaned. “Can you help me get up?”
After helping Muffins get back on her legs and finishing her warm-up, Indigo went to the other room, guided by Bulk’s yelling and the sounds of heavy weights being dropped on the rack.
“Eight reps in each set,” Bulk muttered. He stood in front of Flash, who was panting, lying down on the bench. “Not, ‘generally eight, but I’ll do ten because a nice girl is watching’ or ‘only six because I thought I could lift this one eight times’...”
“Hello!” Indigo smacked Bulk’s arm. “What are you doing?”
“He’s trying to murder me,” Flash muttered. “I don’t think I’m gonna be able to use my hands tomorrow…”
“Well, there’s Muffins,” Indigo replied. “Though I think she pulled a muscle, umm… somewhere.”
Flash sat on the bench, cursing under his breath as he tried to move his arms. “Do you think she needs a massage?”
Indigo smirked. “Yes.”
“Which muscle exactly did she pull?” Bulk asked. “Or wait, I don’t wanna know. How was your day?”
“Normal. Got up, had a test, nearly ran your brother over…”
“What?!”
“Taking photos in the middle of the road.” Indigo shrugged. “Does he even have a self-preservation instinct? Afterwards, he tried to pick up Sour Sweet.”
“And our parents think he’s the smart one…” Bulk muttered.
Indigo stepped inside of the power rack to do some squats with the barbell. Flash followed her with his gaze, but quickly stopped when Bulk walked closer to him and cleared his throat.
“Anyway, what are we gonna do about Christmas?” Indigo asked after finishing the first set. “Do your parents still want to invite my parents to their house?”
“Sure,” Bulk replied. “Though it’ll take a while to convince Featherweight not to open all the gifts.”
“Did he already knit you a sweater?” Flash asked, struggling with the barbell.
“Keep working,” Bulk muttered.
Indigo smirked. “Did you take measures already? If not, I’m always available.”
Flash put the barbell back on the rack a bit louder than necessary. “If you two don’t need me, I’ll go and look for Muffins.” He stood up and walked out, stretching his arms and groaning.
“Wait, I thought he wasn’t much into her.” Indigo started to circle her arms. “It’s hard to keep up with those people, sometimes…”
“Well, we have a theory that Muffins is actually Borg in disguise.” Bulk smirked. “Resistance is futile and so on.”
“Ah, that’d explain why she makes pancakes in the school lab,” Indigo said. “Not used to living on Earth, still waiting for the mothership to come back…”
“That wouldn’t be the weirdest thing to happen in our school,” Bulk said. “Though it always happens to Flash’s girlfriends, somehow. First Sunset Shimmer–”
“What’s wrong with her?” Indigo asked. “She seems rather normal.”
“You don’t know?” Bulk scratched his head. “Guess it’d be better if she told you herself.”
“I’ll just ask Featherweight.” Indigo chuckled.
“Okay.” Bulk lowered his voice to a whisper. “Remember when your Twilight went crazy and started to tear holes in reality?”
“I took a look inside,” Indigo replied. “It’s hard to see something when you’re holding some panicked student, but I think I saw some creatures there.”
“Yeah…” Bulk smirked. “Ponies.”
Indigo nearly dropped the weights. “You’re shitting me. Ponies? What ponies?”
“Be quiet,” Bulk muttered. “Sunset is one of them, but she lives here. There’s another Twilight Sparkle in there and she’s a princess. The magic comes from there. That’s all we know for sure. We suspect a few things, like some old fart using our world as his dumping grounds, but Sunset is rather quiet about that.”
Indigo tilted her head. “Yeah, sure. And in Crystal Prep there’s a club of Satan worshippers. We sacrifice virgins in the basement to summon demons.”
Bulk sighed. “I’m serious,” he said, but his voice drowned in Indigo’s laughter.
20. On the Seventh Day of Christmas, My True Love Sent Me Seven Awkward Family Gatherings
For Indigo and her friends, December started with even more tests and homework than before. Walking out of school after one of those days, Indigo was sure that if she put her head in the pile of snow on the pavement, it’d evaporate, creating a cloud of hissing steam around her.
However, as days went by, the teachers eased out on them, knowing well that Christmas was on the way and there was no way to get the students to focus, even in such a renowned academy as Crystal Prep. As Sugarcoat once stated, there was another reason for that – even Principal Cinch had to do some shopping.
“And what’d she buy?” Indigo asked as they walked down the street, staring at the display windows. “A ton of coal?”
“Something to keep her relatives warm,” Sour Sweet said. “Like a flamethrower.”
“Hey, look!” Lemon Zest exclaimed. “Candy canes!”
Sunny Flare raised her head. “Where?”
“Oh great,” Sugarcoat muttered. “Now they’re gonna sit here all day and I have to buy candles before my grandma arrives.”
“You mean that old lizard who kept cursing during your Batman day?” Indigo asked.
Sugarcoat groaned. “That was Bat Mitzvah, but other than that you’re right.”
“We can go and buy candles and then come back here,” Sour Sweet said. “I still have to buy something for all my siblings. A candle would be perfect for Sweeten Sour.”
“Why?” Sugarcoat asked.
“So she’d stick it somewhere and shut up,” Sour Sweet replied.
Lemon approached Sour and grabbed the corners of her mouth with her fingers, forcing a smile on her face. “Cheer up, Sour. It’s almost Christmas.”
“Would you kindly leave my face alone?” Sour Sweet freed herself from Lemon’s grasp. “To think about it, I don’t have a gift for you either… Assuming I get rid of my family quickly enough for us to meet…”
“I’ll be busy,” Lemon muttered, backing off.
Sour Sweet frowned. “Wh–”
Sunny stood between Lemon and Sour. “By ‘getting rid of your family’, do you mean something permanent?” Seeing the glare Sour kept giving Lemon, she gestured Sugarcoat towards herself.
Sugarcoat saw the cue coming. “Of course she meant it figuratively, silly,” she replied. “And we’d better get those candles.” She put her hand on Sour’s arm. “Come on, Sour. Indigo, will you stay here with Lemon? We’ll be right back.”
“Sure.” Indigo nodded, watching as they hauled Sour Sweet off. Then she opened the door to the candy shop and walked inside with Lemon.
“So,” Indigo said when they were standing in front of the box filled with candy canes. “How’s with you and Sour?”
“She’s fine.” Lemon shrugged. “I mean… For Sour, that is. She takes her meds, she goes to a therapy… Well, she mostly sits in my flat as of late, hiding from her family.”
Indigo stopped staring at the liquorice candies in the jar in front of her. “Something’s wrong with them? I mean, I only know what Sour tells me about them, but I wouldn’t call her the most reliable source…”
Lemon shrugged. “Her sister is fine. I think Sour just thinks her parents prefer her other siblings over her.”
“Mhm.” Indigo nodded. “And surely she’s always calm and collected about that?”
“Well, she tries to.” Lemon replied. “She doesn’t beat me, though. I’d say she kinda got over the fact that we’re not together anymore.” She sighed. “Well, I hope so. I mean, it really wasn’t much to begin with, though she helped me a lot when…”
“Yeah.” Indigo looked at the jar of peppermint humbugs in front of her. “I guess I’ll take some of those.”
“And once we were sitting on my bed, no clothes at all, and–”
“Lemon, that’s a lot more than I ever wanted to know,” Indigo muttered, looking at a tall shelf, way out of her reach. “Now, can you help me with those?”
Sour Sweet felt fine. More or less. After she’d been dragged out by Sunny Flare and Sugarcoat, she somehow ended up with a dress. It wasn’t easy to find a dress for someone as tall and lanky as her, but Sunny didn’t even need her wrist devices to find a store where such dresses would be. In the same store, she bought a dress for Sweeten Sour – it wasn’t difficult, as she knew her sister’s measures quite well. After all, they shared a room for years.
Now, she only needed gifts for the rest of her siblings, but here Sunny had her covered too, helping her choose a game for Sour Patch. As for the twins, Sour ended up in a toy store with Sugarcoat.
“I’d better buy both of them the same things,” Sour Sweet said, rubbing her temples. All the noises, colours, and blinking lights in the store were causing her mind to go haywire. “Or else they’ll start to fight.”
“Oh, really?” Sugarcoat asked. “Well, how old are they, five? Best time to teach them that life isn’t fair.”
“Yeah, unless you like the noise of fighting kids.” Sour’s hands trembled. “Those little, rabid–”
“Good thing I didn’t have to deal with that,” Sugarcoat said. “My parents looked at me, said, ‘well, we fucked up enough’ and here I am, the only child.”
Sour Sweet sighed. “Fuck it. I’ll buy whatever I can and let’s get out of here unless you want me to have a seizure.”
Sugarcoat smirked. “That’s the spirit…”
Spirit, my ass, Sour Sweet thought a few days later, when she sat at the table in her grandparents’ house, wearing her new dress. All around her there were her siblings, cousins, aunts, and uncles, as well as her parents and grandparents.
She rubbed her temples and tried to focus on her food, but it was difficult with so many children around. It seemed like every adult woman in Sour Sweet’s family had at least three of them. Sour often wondered how her family members knew which child belonged to whom. Sometimes, she dreamed that during one of the gatherings in her early childhood, people she considered her parents accidentally took her home, swapping her for cousin Sour Wine. This made sense to her. Sour Wine was a walking perfection just like Sweeten Sour, her mother looked a bit similar to Sour Sweet, and her father, a now-retired lawyer, had a mental breakdown a few years back, spending a few hours threatening to jump out the window of the courtroom.
“Nah, there’s no way I’m the daughter of auntie Sweet Wine and uncle Shaggy Defense,” Sour Sweet muttered to herself. “Someone would notice. Sour Wine and I don’t look that similar.”
“What are you talking about?” asked no one else but Sour Wine. The cousins hated each other and that was probably why Sour Sweet’s grandma decided that they should sit next to each other.
“That, unlike you, my face doesn’t look like someone smacked me with a shovel when I was a kid,” Sour Sweet replied.
“Lovely.” Sour Wine muttered. “Do you practise those comebacks, or are you a natural jerkass?”
“Blow me,” Sour Sweet whispered.
“Ah, I see.” Sour Wine smirked and turned away from Sour Sweet, much to her relief. However, she still wasn’t able to enjoy her meal in silence, this time because of her mother and her aunt, who kept listing the feats of their respective offsprings.
“Sweeten Sour has straight A’s,” Sour Sweet’s mother said. “Sour Sweet has a B in physics and biology.”
“Yeah, because it’s easier to get an A in Canterlot High, you know,” Sour Sweet muttered.
Sour Sweet chuckled, looking at the ring on her cousin’s finger. “Seriously? Haven’t you heard that getting married before twenty-one is like–”
“I wonder when my daughter will give me grandkids.” Sour Sweet’s mother sighed. “How’s your boyfriend, Sour?”
Sour Sweet nearly choked on her food. “My boyfriend ran away last February when I tried to stab him,” she replied, grinning. “A while after that, I started to fuck our neighbour’s daughter, but she doesn’t want to see me anymore, so I doubt we’ll find a way to make a baby. And now excuse me, I have to take a shit.” She stood up and left the room greeted by absolute silence.
The wood in the fireplace burned brightly, filling the living room in Bulk’s house with orange light. The ice had been broken a while ago and now the discussion revolved around rather typical topics.
“I was at Super Bowl once,” Bulk’s father said. “Twenty years ago, I think.” He turned to Indigo’s father. “You played in that game, didn’t you?”
“Not much,” Indigo’s father replied. “Not to mention that we lost.”
“Yeah, but five years later you won.” Bulk’s father took a bite of his mince pie. “That was your best season, right?”
“You remember that better than I do.” Indigo’s father sighed.
Before Bulk’s father could reply, they heard a message beep.
“It’s mine,” Indigo muttered. She was half-asleep, sitting next to Bulk in her new, cyan-coloured sweater and staring into the fire while ignoring Featherweight who kept taking photos. “It’s from Sour Sweet. Hiding at the kiddie table. I think my grandma had a heart attack, lol. What did she do again?”
“Nothing wise, I guess…” Bulk smirked.
“So much for peaceful Christmas.” Indigo sighed. “I guess we’ll get drama updates at least till mid-January.” She turned to her mother and groaned. “Mom, could you stop telling everyone embarrassing stories from my childhood?”
“What’s embarrassing about salmonella?” Indigo’s mother asked. “Bulk had it too.”
“You usually delve into technical details and some people are eating here,” Indigo muttered, pointing at Featherweight, who’d just snatched another pie from the table.
“I don’t mind,” Featherweight replied. “We talk about worse things in the cafeteria. Like, do you know that love is like farts? If–”
“Ah, now I know why not even Sour Sweet or Ruby want you,” Indigo said. “If that’s your idea of being romantic…”
“Hey, give him a break,” Bulk muttered. “We probably talked about worse things.”
“But that was later,” Indigo said. “And I don’t really want to mention those, or else my mother will have enough embarrassing stories to tell about me until I turn forty…”
“Bad experiences?” Indigo’s mother asked. “Already? I mean, when I was your age, I already had some bad experiences, but once I met your father…” She sighed. “Too bad we later ended up with Lightning Dust.”
Indigo blushed. “That’s more than I wanted to know, mom. And I'd rather not talk about my experiences.”
“Well…” Bulk’s father smirked. “I still remember my father’s car–”
“Cars are the worst,” Indigo’s father said. “Though maybe I think so because I’m taller.”
“Yeah,” Bulk muttered.
Indigo shot him a glare. “I’m so jealous of Sugarcoat now…”
“Because of Sandalwood?” Bulk asked.
“Nah,” Indigo replied. “But at least Hanukkah is already over…”
Hanukkah was indeed already over, but while it lasted, Sugarcoat had to face quite a few challenges not even Crystal Prep could prepare her for. Currently, the challenges were three kids—a girl aged ten and two boys aged nine and eleven—who were sitting around the small table and staring at her patiently.
Sugarcoat gulped and looked at three dreidels lying in the middle of the table. One gimel and two nuns which didn’t really help her case – somehow both of the dreidels hidden under her shaker had landed on shin.
“Raise,” Sugarcoat muttered, throwing half of her remaining chocolate coins on the pile next to the community dreidels. “You’d better give up, kids. I played this game before you all were born.”
The girl furrowed her eyebrows and looked deeply into Sugarcoat’s eyes. “Check,” she said eventually.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Sugary Treat…” Sugarcoat muttered.
“I know when you have a good hand, auntie Sugarcoat,” Sugary Treat replied. “This time it’s just refuge in chutzpah.”
“We’ll see…” Sugarcoat smirked. “How about you, Sugar Rush?”
Sugar Rush looked at Sugary Treat. “Fold.”
“Butter Cookie?”
“Fold,” the other boy replied.
“Okay.” Sugary Treat looked at Sugarcoat and raised her shaker, revealing her dreidels.
“Oy vey…” Sugarcoat blurted out, seeing gimel and he on her first cousin once removed’s tops. She sighed, revealing her own miserable hand. “How did you know I was bluffing?”
“You’re sweating,” Sugary Treat replied, grabbing the chocolate coins and putting them in front of herself. “Just like when grandma Zuckerlöffel told you that you should totally meet that young doctor…”
“That’s because grandma Zuckerlöffel can’t get the fact that I already have a boyfriend.” Sugarcoat rolled her eyes. “And her ‘young doctor’ is in his thirties. For you he’s probably old enough to remember dinosaurs.”
“Do you remember dinosaurs?” Sugar Rush asked.
“I’m not that old either,” Sugarcoat muttered. “I remember when there were no smartphones, though.” She sighed. “Also, why am I always taking care of the kids?”
“Grandma Zuckerlöffel wants you to give her great-grandkids,” Sugary Treat replied, mimicking the official tone of the head of Sugarcoat’s family.
“Why?” Sugarcoat asked. “My cousin already did as you can attest. Also, why doesn’t she tell that to me herself?” She stood up. “Be right back. Don’t eat all my coins.”
She walked to the other room where the older members of her family were chatting. Apparently the meeting already went past the point of family stories and now it was time for the annual joke-telling competition held between Sugarcoat’s uncles.
“Very well,” uncle Technicolor Dreamcoat said. “Two days ago I sold a trumpet, yesterday a gun, and today a coffin!”
“This joke is older than me!” grandma Zuckerlöffel exclaimed. She noticed Sugarcoat standing by her armchair and smiled. “What’s going on, dearie?”
Sugarcoat took a deep breath. “Well, for starters, I don’t want you to keep trying to find me a boyfriend. I actually have a boyfriend, although he’s a meshugene goy. More meshugene than goy, I think…” She paused, thinking that some details of Sandalwood’s anatomy could easily tell that he was a gentile. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter as I rather like him and I’m not swapping him for any doctor anytime soon. Who knows, maybe one day I’ll be a doctor myself. And I don’t give a damn about you rewriting your will so it doesn’t include me. I just believe in myself that much. Call that stupid, but that’s how it looks like.”
Everybody in the room went silent. Grandma Zuckerlöffel raised her eyebrows, the cup in her hand trembling. Sugarcoat backpedalled, wondering whether her grandma would suddenly produce a gun from her purse to shoot her. Then she started to wonder whether a seppuku would be a fine option.
“My girl,” grandma Zuckerlöffel eventually said.
“W-what?” Sugarcoat asked.
“For fifty years, I’ve been waiting for someone to tell me off, but no one ever dared to. You, girl, have more balls than my husbands and all my sons together.”
“Maybe,” Sugarcoat muttered. “Can I go and have a heart attack already?”
“Don’t think I’ll forget that, though,” grandma Zuckerlöffel said. “I’ll keep an eye on you, Sugarcoat. Very closely.”
“Of course, granny.” Sugarcoat turned back and quickly left the room.
Just like she thought, her cousins already managed to raid her stack of chocolate coins. Sugarcoat suspected Butter Cookie. Even though he was nine (or maybe because of that), he couldn’t be trusted at all.
“So, how was grandma Zuckerlöffel?” Sugary Treat asked.
“You can’t even imagine how fucked I am,” Sugarcoat replied.
“That’s a bad word,” Butter Cookie said.
“Yes, but I’m an adult. Also, it’s the most accurate word to describe the situation I’m in.” Sugarcoat sighed, grabbing her shaker. “Okay. I need to get my gelt back… Who wants to play with me before grandma Zuckerlöffel makes my life miserable?”
“Don’t worry,” Sugary Treat said. “She’ll die one day.”
Sugarcoat nearly dropped her dreidels. “Okay, you’re officially my favourite cousin.” She looked at Butter Cookie and Sugar Rush. “I like you guys too, so, please, don’t snitch on me, okay?”
“Sure…” Butter Cookie smirked.
Sugarcoat ignored him, spun her dreidels and looked at them. Shin and nun. “This is gonna be a wonderful year…” she muttered to herself.
“This is gonna be a wonderful year,” Sunny Flare muttered, stretching her hands on the couch in front of the fireplace. The Christmas dinner swiftly changed into the supper; an empty bottle of wine stood on the coffee table next to a another, half-full bottle and pair of wine glasses.
“Why do you think so?” Sunny’s mother asked. She was sitting on another couch, staring at the flames. “I mean, aside from that new TV show we’re making?”
“I’m so done with that hospice,” Sunny replied. “Also, I’m gonna go to the college now. Everything’s gonna change. No more screwing around. Now I’m gonna focus on what I really like.” She looked at the glass in front of her. “And it’s gonna be beautiful.”
“So, what do you choose, after all?” Sunny’s mother asked. “Designing clothes or programming?”
“I’m gonna need both.” Sunny reached for her glass and nearly fell off the couch while taking a sip. “The revolution won’t be civilised… But it’s gonna be fashionable.”
Sunny’s mother sighed. “You’ve had enough. Remember that I won’t be in the college to help you out.” She shrugged. “In fact, maybe you should get an appointment with Ms. Sweets before it gets out of control…”
“Please, she can’t even fix her own daughter.” Sunny rolled her eyes. “Also, should I tell her who gave me wine after they ran out of drinking buddies?”
“Touché,” Sunny’s mother replied. “But I didn’t really expect you to try to take over the world after a few drinks.”
“It’ll take years, though.” Sunny smirked. “And it’ll be so subtle no one will notice at first.” She looked at her wrist device and tapped the screen a few times. “I mean, people are already addicted to all that electronics… If there was one person behind it all and if it was me… Addictions are, like, so powerful.”
Sunny’s mother nodded and took a large sip of her wine. “Well, you probably know what you’re talking about.”
“Mhm.” Sunny looked into her empty glass. “If one day everything was cut off…” She paused, hearing a doorbell. “Hmm, this can’t be Santa Claus. He’d use a chimney.”
Staggering slightly, Sunny stood up. “I’ll see who’s that. Maybe some lost Christmas visitor.”
“Or maybe your Japanese boyfriend decided to pay you a visit,” Sunny’s mother replied.
“He never leaves his room.” Sunny walked towards the door, tripping over carpets and shoes in the darkness. Muttering curses under her breath, she finally reached the door and opened it.
“Oh, shit,” she said.
“Indeed,” replied the man standing in front of her. His clothes were completely out of place in the snowy weather – he held his soaked coat in one hand, revealing a slim-fit t-shirt and a sweater fashionably wrapped around his neck. His tan and sunglasses hiding bloodshot eyes—a telltale sign of jet lag—revealed that he was used to much warmer climate.
In other words, Winford Epsom-Derby III decided to come back home for Christmas. And his only child standing in front of him in an old tracksuit and uttering words of slurred apology definitely wasn’t a gift he had expected.
“What’s going on, Sunny?” The voice of Sunny’s mother echoed down the corridor as she joined her daughter. “Win? What are you doing here?”
“Lens.” Win furrowed his eyebrows and walked inside, handing Sunny his coat, umbrella, and a suitcase. “I’d like to ask you the same question.”
“Well, it’s my house, after all,” Lens Flare replied, tilting her head. “Sit down and relax. We have wine.”
“I didn’t ask you whose house is it.” Winford Epsom-Derby III let out a sigh, completely disregarding the fact that his progeny just collapsed under the weight of his suitcase. “But what are you doing here?! Because taking care of our daughter is definitely not what you were doing when I was gone!”
“Chill out, dad,” Sunny muttered, trying to get up.
“I had to come here all the way from Bahrain when you decided to try shoplifting!” Win exclaimed, turning to her.
Sunny raised her finger. “I wasn’t–”
“I thought that helping in the hospice would teach you something but it seems that you and your mother–”
Sunny stood up, looking in her father’s eyes. “Well, if you’re so concerned about me, then why are you never here!? If it weren’t for the photos on the internet, I wouldn’t even know how you look like!”
“Well, I’m surprised you can still recognise me with everything you two drink!” Win’s hands shook. “Even on Christmas you’re completely drunk!”
“Winford!” Sunny’s mother grabbed his arm. “Leave Sunny out of this.”
“Oh, why?” Sunny asked, losing balance again and resting herself against her mother. “It’s the most words he’d spoken to me since my twelfth birthday. Since then, he, like, travels around the world, working or pretending to work. Oh, and he once took me to Wales. Wales!” She rolled her eyes. “What are you running away from, dad?”
The only answer was the sound of the door closing as Winford Epsom-Derby III decided that it was enough of talking to his daughter for him and left the house, leaving his suitcase behind.
Sunny looked at the door, her mouth agape. “I can’t believe it!” she exclaimed. “What is wrong with him? Are you sure he’s my father?”
“Nah, for the house,” Sunny’s mother said. “It’s his, after all.”
“Just great…” Sunny muttered. “A divorce for Christmas, why not? At least I’m old enough to decide who I want to stay with.”
“Yeah…” Sunny’s mother hiccuped. “After Christmas I’m getting a lawyer. We’ll leave him with that suitcase only…”
“We?” Sunny shrugged. “Maybe. In fact, I’m closer to throwing up than thinking of it…”
Sunny’s mother yawned. “Same. In fact, I gotta crash. We’ll think it over tomorrow.”
She walked upstairs, leaving Sunny in the corridor. For a while, Sunny stood there, staring at the door. Then she sat on the floor, resting her back against the wall and hiding her face in her hands.
Sunny didn’t know how much time she spent on the floor, crying. Nevertheless, it was still dark when she heard knocking on the door. Slowly, she got back on her feet and turned on the light of her wrist device. She walked to the closet standing by the door and opened it, grabbing a shotgun from the upper shelf. It wasn’t loaded and she was pretty sure there were no shells for it anywhere at home, but it had been lying there for ages; or at least since her father put it there after someone tried to break into their house.
Sunny slid the forend of the shotgun back, mostly to get the point across with its distinctive sound. She was drunk and armed and whoever was knocking had to be crazy if they were still there.
She heard knocking again. With a sigh, Sunny opened the door and aimed the shotgun into the darkness.
“Did you come back for your suitcase or do you want to finally tell me what’s wrong with you?” she asked.
“What the fuck, Sunny?” The voice most definitely didn’t belong to Sunny’s father. “Put that down before you shoot yourself.”
Sunny lowered the shotgun and saw Sour Sweet standing on her porch in a thick coat, carrying a duffel bag with her. “What are you doing here?” Sunny asked.
“I may have come out in front of my whole family,” Sour Sweet replied. “They’d take it somehow, but then they had to rush granny to the hospital and they think it’s kinda my fault.” She sighed. “I’d rather not get on their nerves for the next few days.”
Sunny raised her eyebrows. “So you came to me?”
“Yes. You have a big house and your mom doesn’t give a fuck.”
“What?” Sunny facepalmed, wiping tears off her face.
“Just a few days,” Sour Sweet said. “Your mom won’t even notice. Your house is so big a serial killer could hide in here for weeks before they’d be discovered.”
“You’re not helping your case,” Sunny muttered.
Sour Sweet smiled awkwardly. “Please?”
Sunny Flare had several rooms around the house, each of them suited for her different needs. This particular one had a big bed, a mirror on the ceiling, and was quite far from her mother’s bedroom. Needless to say, Sunny didn’t use it much.
Sour Sweet lay on the bed, looking at her half-unpacked bag. She then turned to Sunny, who was watching something on her wrist devices. “You okay there?”
“What makes you think I'm not?” Sunny asked.
“Your make-up is all fucked-up,” Sour Sweet replied, grabbing Sunny’s shotgun and aiming it at the mirror on the ceiling.
“So?” Sunny shrugged. “I’m wearing a tracksuit and I need to wash my make-up off. I don’t look all nice all the time.”
“Yeah, but it’s either no make-up or awesome make-up,” Sour Sweet replied. “If you died and a funeral home fucked up your make-up, you’d rise from the coffin just to correct it.”
Sunny sighed. “My parents want to divorce.”
“Like it changes much,” Sour Sweet muttered. “Like, I thought your father got Ebola. Haven’t seen the guy in ages.”
“He was here today,” Sunny replied. “Saw us drunk, got pissed, mom calls a lawyer. End of story.”
Sour Sweet looked at the screen of Sunny’s wrist device. “Is this why you’re watching a Chinese cartoon about, umm… schoolgirls riding tanks?”
“Shut up.” Sunny gave Sour Sweet a nasty glare.
“Meh, they’re not even using real ammo.” Sour Sweet chuckled. “That’d spice up the competition a bit. Imagine if we had that thing in our school. Kaboom, and all that’s left of Sugarcoat is her glasses and a trail of entrails and uniform bits. Kaboom again, and Indigo’s liver hits you in the–”
Sunny furrowed her eyebrows. “Would you pretty pretty please, with a cherry on top, shut the fuck up? Thank you.”
"Oh, come on,” Sour Sweet said. “Screw parents. They only fuck you up.” She looked into her bag. “Do you want my pills?”
“Yes, please,” Sunny replied.
Sour Sweet threw her the pills and aimed the shotgun at the wall, making shooting noises a few times.
“Leave that.” Sunny swallowed the pill. “I need to talk to Indigo about how she does that.”
“Does what?” Sour asked.
“You know, doesn’t drink,” Sunny replied. “I should totally stop drinking. Look what it did to my parents…” She looked at Sour Sweet, who put the barrel of the shotgun in her mouth and tried to reach the trigger. “Are you even listening to me?”
“That Combine guy could’ve reached the trigger after all,” Sour Sweet muttered. “So it’s not like his wife killed him.”
“Who?”
“You know, that dude who made music our parents liked before he got himself full of heroin and made a hole in his head,” Sour Sweet replied.
“I don’t think that was his name,” Sunny said. “Also, don’t aim it at your face. I’m not sure if it’s loaded.”
“Nah, it’s too light.” Sour Sweet raised the shotgun. At the same moment, the sound of explosion shook the walls of the room, a second before they were showered with shards of the mirror from the ceiling.
“Jesus fuck, I’m deaf!” Sour Sweet dropped the shotgun, covering her ears. “What the actual–”
“Leave Jesus out of this, it’s his birthday…” Sunny, her face pale, took the shotgun and pulled the forend, causing an empty shell to fall off, along with a large, half-fried spider. She slid it a few times, finding out that there was one more shell in the magazine.
“I can’t hear you…”
“Hope my mom didn’t hear,” Sunny muttered. “She’d think I did something dumb…”
“What part of ‘I can’t fucking hear anything’ you don’t understand?” Sour Sweet asked. “Also, I have a shard of glass in my leg…”
“What?” Sunny looked at Sour Sweet’s leg. She raised her eyebrows and suddenly fainted, dropping gently on the cushions behind her.
“Well, thank you very much!” Sour Sweet exclaimed, searching her luggage for bandages. “When will this whole Christmas end?”
Sugarcoat wasn’t a very festive person. She quite enjoyed the fact that all the family meetings were over and that her grandma finally left. Same with her cousins; she ended up winning some of her chocolate coins back and now she could enjoy them without fear of someone raiding her stash.
Still, Sugarcoat had to face one more challenge. Sandalwood, knowing well that she’d be free and that she was Ebenezer Scrooge incarnate, decided to invite her for a Christmas dinner. For some reason, his family’s Christmas dinner would take place on December 23rd, but Sugarcoat didn’t mind. The sooner it’d be over, the better.
Needless to say, Sugarcoat got fashionably late. When she finally arrived to Sandalwood’s house, she found him sitting at the table with his parents, Canter Zoom and Sahara Sunshine, as well as, much to Sugarcoat’s surprise, Flash and Muffins. She looked around, searching for the Christmas tree, but all she found was an aluminium pole standing in the middle of the room.
“Strange,” she said, looking at it. “I thought goyim were into nature.”
“Who needs nature when you have perfect strength-to-weight ratio,” Sandalwood said. “Sit down. I got you vegan meatloaf on a bed of lettuce.”
Sugarcoat raised her eyebrows. “It can’t be a meatloaf if it’s vegan. What have you been smoking?”
“That’s what I said.” Muffins smiled. “Minus the smoking part. Turns out, it’s made of seitan.”
“Satan?” Sugarcoat asked. “I already like this thing.”
“Truly a Festivus miracle,” Canter Zoom muttered.
“It’s ‘seitan’, not Satan,” Sahara Sunshine said. “Also known as wheat meat, but it’s basically pure gluten. Perfect for screwing with all those holier-than-thou gluten-free vegans.” She smirked. “They think that if it’s vegan it’s fine, then they get a surprise…”
“I like your way of thinking.” Sugarcoat sat at the table between Sandalwood and Flash, who looked like he was looking for an escape route.
“Oh, please, call me ‘mom’,” Sahara Sunshine said.
“I’d rather not,” Sugarcoat muttered. “I pissed off enough of my family members and I don’t need more of them.”
“It’d be a Festivus miracle if you didn’t.” Canter Zoom nodded. “I mean, with your rather direct approach–”
“Oh, please, dad…” Sugarcoat shook her head.
“You’re starting to get it.” Sandalwood smirked and hugged her.
“Not really,” Sugarcoat replied. “Is it how they celebrate Christmas on your home planet?”
“It’s called Festivus,” Sandalwoood replied. “And we were just about to start Airing of Grievances.”
“Can I start?” Muffins asked. “Because hey, last year most definitely wasn’t fine.”
“It wasn’t?” Sugarcoat asked, stabbing her meat-free meatloaf with a fork. “I thought you were pretty content with your life.”
“Well, I am,” Muffins replied. “It’s the people who are a bitch. I’m trying to be nice and what? This year I was a bait for rabid dogs, a demon almost threw me into another dimension, I got my bicycle stolen twice, got arrested for beating the crap out of a guy who stole my bicycle… And that’s just the first half of the year…”
Half of an hour later, Sugarcoat was almost done with her gluten-rich not-quite meatloaf. However, Muffins was still not quite done with her grievances, although at least she’d gotten to more recent months.
“I almost got arrested again, had to run away in a stolen car, everybody got pissed at me for ruining the school lab when I just wanted to make pancakes for them…” Muffins took a deep breath. “And worst of all, all boys think I’m stupid…” She sighed and looked down.
“Does anyone have anything to add?” Canter Zoom asked.
“Yes,” Sugarcoat replied. “Shame on you, Flash Sentry. Shame on you.”
“Why?” Flash asked. “I don’t think Muffins is stupid. She was there for me when–”
“– it turned out a horse princess from another dimension was in another castle,” Sandalwood muttered.
“Yeah.” Flash turned to Muffins. “Muffins… My year was pretty bad too…”
“I advise against using that as a pick-up line,” Sugarcoat said. “If only for the mental health of your grandkids when you tell them this story.”
“Shh,” Sandalwood muttered, looking at Flash and Muffins, who were about to hug. “You’re ruining the moment.”
Muffins wrapped her arms around Flash and suddenly threw him on the floor in a move that’d definitely give her an ippon had it been a judo match.
“I’m so done being subtle,” she said. “Flash Sentry, you’re immune to hints I’ve been giving you for the whole year, so for your information: I love you!” She looked around, blushing. “Also, I was told that Festivus ends in a wrestling match, so I wanted to start…”
Flash groaned and got up. “I love you too, I just...” he muttered.
“Is it because I’m not a horse?” Muffins asked.
“Hoo, boy…” Sahara Sunshine nodded, looking at Flash.
“I just didn’t know how to tell you,” Flash muttered. “I didn’t know that judo throws were a proper way to do that.” He turned to Sandalwood’s mother. “And for the record, I’m not into horses. Somehow all my girlfriends turn out to be them, that’s all.”
“Sounds like 1960s all over again,” Canter Zoom said. “As for the wrestling, it’s not exactly that way. Festivus can’t end, until the head of the household is pinned to the ground…” He backpedalled, seeing that Muffins fixed her eyes on him. “But of course, you can stay here a bit longer…”
“Do we wrestle you all at once or one-on-one?” Sugarcoat asked. “Not that I want to do that. Like, I know krav maga and without my glasses, I’m not sure who or what I’d hit…”
Sandalwood’s father looked at his wife. “Honey, don’t you think it’s time to pass the torch to our son? He’s probably better at wrestling.”
“With me?” Sugarcoat smirked. “No chance. I had to teach him for quite a while before he realised what he was doing wrong while pleasuring me...”
“Too much information,” Flash muttered when everybody stared at Sugarcoat in awkward silence.
“So, can we get back to wrestling?” Muffins asked.
The room they were in had a big bed and a lot of place on the floor. It also had a plasma TV on the wall. No wonder Sunny used it quite often, especially during sleepovers. This time, however, she was mostly lying on the bed half-asleep and staring at the ceiling as the combined effect of wine, stress, and exhaustion finally defeated her. Sour Sweet, her wound cleaned and neatly bandaged, sat next to her, watching her favourite Christmas movie.
“Do you really think you have a chance against us, Mister Cowboy?” the bad guy from the movie asked.
“Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker,” Sour Sweet replied together with the TV. Knowing all the lines by heart was quite useful, given that she was half-deaf.
Sunny Flare opened one eye and looked around. “How come I already have a hangover?” she slurred.
“How would I know?” Sour Sweet shrugged. “I’ll sure have one tomorrow and I didn’t even drink.”
“Mhm.” Sunny paused to gather her thoughts. “So, you and Lemon are no longer a thing, right?”
Sour Sweet raised her eyebrows. “Tread carefully, or else I’m gonna punch you… No, we’re not a thing. Go to sleep and let me watch.”
“Why so?”
“I fucked up,” Sour Sweet replied. “Also, I guess the rumours were true. You are a lesbo.”
“I’m not,” Sunny muttered. “I have a boyfriend.”
“In Japan.” Sour Sweet smirked. “And you’re asking me if Lemon and I are a thing as if you wanted to nail me right here and put your fist–”
“I’m gonna fucking puke.” Sunny groaned, trying to get up and looking around. “Also, I’m totally straight. Like, I’m gonna show you a proof.” She tapped the screen of her wrist device and started to scroll through files. “Yeah, there it is!” She showed the screen to Sour Sweet.
Sour Sweet tilted her head and looked at Sunny unsurely. “It’s a naked chick.”
“Is it?” Sunny looked at the screen. “Shit, it’s one of those I stole. Now, where was it…”
“One girl from the hospice.” Sunny’s finger slipped off the screen of her wrist device. “She likes nature and poor children. You’d be her type.”
“Thanks, but I’m not interested,” Sour Sweet muttered. “It’d be yet another fuck-up.” She turned to Sunny to see that she finally fell asleep. “Oh, come on…”
Lemon Zest sat on a bench in the back of the hall with her eyes closed, bobbing her head to a blues riff accompanying the Hammond organ solo. The sound made her forget about all the things that had happened this year; now there was just music and nothing else mattered.
Her sensitive ear fished out the sound of someone’s steps close to her. She opened her eyes to see a girl next to her, wearing a labcoat. Her green hair was slightly darker than Lemon’s, but equally long and unkempt, even though she apparently tried to tie them in the back.
“Hello,” she said, pointing at the band. “You’re this guy’s daughter, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” Lemon replied. “I’m Lemon Zest.”
“Sweet Leaf,” the girl said. “It’s cool that your father decided to play for our patients.”
Lemon hissed at the first part of Sweet Leaf’s name, but after a while, she nodded. “He meant to do that for a while, yeah.”
Sweet Leaf sat next to Lemon and looked at the stage. “Well, I’ve heard he had a hard time this year, after–” She turned to Lemon. “Oh… I mean…”
Lemon froze. “It’s fine,” she muttered. “Like, I’m past the point when I spent most of the time hiding in my room, though still… I had quite a rough breakup recently too.”
“Oh.” Sweet Leaf nodded. “Well, he most certainly deserved it.”
“Well, I’m not sure if she did.” Lemon shrugged.
Sweet Leaf blushed and smiled sheepishly. “Oh…”
“Do you say ‘oh’ often?” Lemon asked.
“Err… yeah, it kinda happens,” Sweet Leaf replied. “I mean, after a while here I can’t bring myself to much more than that.”
Lemon nodded, staring at the stage. Another song started, this time with a slow, acoustic guitar intro. “Well, about that… I’ve heard you need volunteers, right? To help the sick people and so on.”
“Yeah,” Sweet Leaf replied. “Come to the office after Christmas. You’ll have to fill in some forms, all that paperwork. It’s not that bad, you know. Most of the times, you just have to be there.” She sighed. “Though sometimes it’s the hardest…”
“Yeah, I know,” Lemon said. “My friend was here. Maybe you know her. Her name is Sunny Flare.”
“Oh.” Sweet Leaf rolled her eyes. “That one.”
“Yeah, that’d be her,” Lemon said. “She’s kinda… memorable.”
“A spoiled cunt from a private school, yeah,” Sweet Leaf muttered, covering her mouth. “I mean…”
“We’re classmates, remember.” Lemon smirked.
“Really?” Sweet Leaf raised her eyebrows. “You don’t look like one of them. For a moment I was thinking why I’ve never seen you in Canterlot High.” She blushed. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve seen many guys who couldn’t stand being here, but she took the cake. Especially considering how she got here.”
“Mhm.” Lemon leaned closer to Sweet Leaf, lowering her voice to a whisper. “I kinda talked her into going to that store in the first place.”
“You did?” Sweet Leaf’s jaw dropped.
Lemon smiled. “Don’t tell me you’ve never wanted to stay in the store after it closes.”
“Well, yeah.” Sweet Leaf chuckled. “In fact, if you ever try to do that again, count me in.”
“Better not,” Lemon replied. “It’s not as fun as it seems.”
“Yeah. Funny how it happens, sometimes…” Sweet Leaf sighed. “Like, before I ended up here…”
“You thought it’d be fun?” Lemon shuddered, looking at the patients watching the show. “Even now I’m trying not to think how many of them will be here next year….”
“No,” Sweet Leaf replied. “I thought many things were fun until I tried them. And after that, too. And then I thought that it was all–”
“So, a reformed party girl?” Lemon asked.
“Are you gonna say ‘oh, please’ and tell me how much I’m wasting my life here, like Sunny?” Sweet Leaf bit her lip, sighing.
“Nah,” Lemon replied. “Just… been there, too.”
“Do tell,” Sweet Leaf said. “I like such stories.”
Lemon smiled and turned her head towards the stage. “Maybe later. We’ll have a lot of time, I guess…”
Fleur dis Lee walked down the street, looking at her reflection in the window display. The new coat she’d gotten in Paris looked perfect on her. She smirked, thinking of reuniting with her boyfriend, Fancy Pants, and how impressed he’d be with her style.
Her ponderings were rather abruptly interrupted by a huge snowball that splattered on her head, sending her tumbling on the ground.
“Told you.” Indigo turned to Sandalwood, who gave her five dollars. They stood on the other side of the street, watching Fleur getting up.
“Nique ta mère, connasse!” Fleur exclaimed, aiding the foreign phrase with a gesture known in the country of her ancestors as bras d’honneur.
“That was extremely immature,” Sugarcoat said to Indigo while showing Fleur a much more international gesture of peace and love with her middle finger. “This being said, it’s Fleur… But I bet you wouldn’t throw a snowball at Suri.”
“You’ll see when we meet her,” Indigo replied as they walked away from Fleur hastily. “Although she’d probably throw something back at me. Possibly yellow snow.”
“Yeah.” Sandalwood chuckled. “And don’t do that around Bulk. He doesn’t like you being naughty.”
“Depends on the meaning of the word.” Indigo smirked. “Also, I guess I won’t have many occasions in that Our Town. To meet Suri, I mean.”
“I hope whatever place we’ll end up in there has thick walls between rooms,” Sugarcoat muttered. “I mean, Sour, Lemon, and Sunny may feel jealous.”
“Of you?” Indigo chuckled. “Please. Also, I thought we’d spend more time together…”
Sandalwood grinned. “I like your way of thinking…”
He immediately earned a punch in the arm from Indigo. “Don’t even think about it,” she said. “Or we’ll leave you and Bulk to have some alone time.”
“I’m not sure if he’d agree,” Sandalwood replied. “Also, there are some, umm… technical problems, I suppose.”
Indigo frowned. “Let’s just leave that topic, okay?”
“Sure.” Sandalwood stopped by the shop at the corner of the street. “I was just going to buy some oatmeal anyway. Do you want something?”
“Nah, I’ll wait,” Indigo replied. After Sandalwood and Sugarcoat walked into the store, she looked around, searching for familiar faces. It seemed, however, that her friends had chosen other means of getting to the train station. Indigo wasn’t surprised; she had a hard time imagining Sunny covering large distances on foot.
“Hello again, dumbbell,” Indigo heard, right before being shoved into a snow drift. She got up, spitting some snow and saw Fleur running away.
“Hey!” Indigo shouted, throwing a handful of snow at her and missing badly. “Come back here! I’m not done with you!” She groaned. “Damn French…”
It was early morning and Sour Sweet already felt the need to murder someone. In this case, Sunny Flare, who kept packing and repacking her suitcases. Sour, who hadn’t even had time to unpack her things after running away from home, wanted to catch some sleep, but it was rather hard with all the noises Sunny kept making.
“What the fuck is it again?” Sour asked, covering one of her ears with a pillow. She still couldn’t hear anything with the other one; while it made not hearing Sunny easier, soon she found it pretty annoying. “It’s just a few days in the mountains. You don’t have to pack more shit than your weight is…”
“But there’s gonna be a New Year’s party!” Sunny exclaimed, opening a closet with more dresses than Sour Sweet had seen in her life. “And I want to stay sober through it, so I’ll be concerned with how I look all the time!”
“I don’t have such problems,” Sour Sweet said. “I look like a psychotic potato with freckles anyway.”
“Which doesn’t change the fact that you’re built like a supermodel,” Sunny said. “If you ever let me–”
“No.” Sour Sweet shuddered, clenching her fists. “Just no. Don’t even mention it.”
A doorbell rang. Sour Sweet closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.
“Does it make you feel hungry?” Sunny asked, getting up. “If it’s your parents, should I tell them that you’re here?”
“Go fuck yourself,” Sour Sweet muttered, cowering on the bed.
“No, then.” Sunny walked downstairs and opened the front door. “Oh, hi Lemon.”
She immediately thought Lemon looked unusually frowny. Her hair was messier than usual and she was clenching her fists. Considering her typical attitude, Sunny thought that she was about to throw a tantrum.
“Is Sour Sweet here?” Lemon asked.
Sunny shrugged. “What makes you think she is?”
“She’s not with Indigo or Sugarcoat and she has no more friends that’d let her stay at their home,” Lemon replied.
Sunny nodded. “Have you read the obituaries?”
“What?” Lemon’s jaw dropped.
“Okay, she’s here.” Sunny turned back. “Sour Sweet! Lemon is here to see you!”
Sunny could swear that when Sour Sweet descended the stairs, the temperature outside dropped by a few degrees. She and Lemon Zest gave each other nasty glares. The storm was coming and she was about to end up in the middle of it.
“You.” Lemon took a deep breath. “I just had a really unpleasant talk with your parents. Apparently someone told them that we used to be together…” Her voice faltered. “What the hell did you tell them?”
“Do they want you to come back to me?” Sour Sweet asked.
Lemon growled, walking closer to Sour Sweet and shoving Sunny aside. “You wish! You kinda… told your whole family about me! And of course it’s completely not your fault! It’s never your fault, huh?!”
Sunny raised her finger. “Well, to be honest, you weren’t exactly hiding…” She saw Sour’s face and closed her mouth.
“Yeah, because you were completely innocent!” Sour Sweet exclaimed. “I was with you when you needed me, but when I needed you…”
“Girls, stop arguing.” Sunny opened the closet in the corridor and grabbed a huge Christmas sweater with two holes for heads. “I got you a get-together sweater…”
Lemon and Sour Sweet paused looked at each other.
“Well, there’s one thing we can both agree upon,” Sour Sweet said. “Five seconds of a head start?”
“Two,” Lemon replied. “She can run fast.”
“Okay.” Sour smirked and turned to Sunny.
Sunny backpedalled. “Girls, what are you doing?”
Flash Sentry panted. Catching up with Muffins was hard, not only because she insisted on using cross-country skis for getting to the railway station. It was also because she spent most of the morning explaining to him that the sun was actually a cucumber.
Normally, Flash wouldn’t pay attention, but after a year of dealing with ponies, sirens, and demons, even such an unlikely occurrence didn’t seem all that detached from reality. The longer he pondered about this question, the more it seemed to him that there might have been some grain of truth in it. Especially since the day was rather cloudy.
He finally managed to catch up with Muffins in front of a huge house in a prim and proper district, mostly because the pavement had been cleared of snow; nothing really unusual in such a prim and proper district.
“Look,” Muffins said, picking up something huge and wooly. “Someone threw away a totally good get-together sweater!”
Flash nodded absent-mindedly, more interested in the ruckus going on a bit further down the pavement. As he went closer, he realised that most of it was caused by girls he was supposed to go to Our Town with. This fact didn’t really make his day any better.
He had to admit that, despite being much shorter, Sunny could hold her ground against Lemon and Sour, as evidenced by Sour limping around and clutching her shin. Even worse for her, this soon ended up with Lemon deciding that beating the crap out of Sunny wasn’t as fun as making snowballs and taking potshots at Sour.
“Do you understand anything of that?” Flash asked when Muffins finally took off her skis and walked to him.
Muffins tilted her head and shrugged. “Not really.”
Right at the same moment, Sour decided to fight back. She darted forward like a cornered animal and punched Sunny in the stomach. Then she turned, grabbing a handful of snow from the nearby fence and throwing it at Lemon.
Luckily for Lemon, her reflexes pretty much matched Sour’s aim. She ducked and the snowball went wide, hitting Muffins in the face.
“Damn… You okay?” Flash asked.
“Move away, Flash Sentry,” Muffins muttered, picking up the get-together sweater and one of her ski poles. “I shall bring peace here…”
Flash backed off as she walked towards the fighting group. He looked at his watch and decided that if they didn’t want to miss the train, he’d have to take care of the transport.
Listening to the first screams, he grabbed his phone and opened the app.
Bulk was already at the platform when Indigo, Sandalwood, and Sugarcoat reached the railway station. He was sitting on the bench, wearing a leather jacket, his backpack by his side, and watched them as they approached him.
“What happened to you?” he asked Indigo, seeing her wet clothes.
“I forgot the history lessons,” Indigo replied. “If you start a war with France, they eventually find a way to screw you over.”
“Ah, that explains it.” Bulk smirked. “Have you seen Flash on the way? He’s gonna miss the train.”
“Same with Lemon, Sour, and Sunny.” Sugarcoat looked around. “Those three are always late…”
“Well, Sour Sweet apparently ran away from home,” Indigo said. “Lemon texted me, asking if I keep her under my bed.”
“Yeah, me too.” Sugarcoat nodded. “As if I let her live with me again. She talks in her sleep, raids your fridge, eats all the cheese, and then remembers that she’s lactose-intolerant. And you don’t wanna be close when she lets one rip. Seriously, that’s probably banned by Geneva conventions.”
“We really didn’t need that knowledge,” Bulk muttered.
“Speak for yourself,” Sandalwood replied. “I mean, that’s a part of living together, right? Dealing with all those little inconveniences…”
“Oh, please…” Sugarcoat rolled her eyes.
“And while we’re at it, yours don’t smell like pansies either,” Sandalwood muttered, earning a glare and a backpack getting tossed at him.
“Let him who is without sin cast the first stone, as they say,” Indigo said. “Also, I’d better call Lemon. Maybe she forgot that we were supposed to go today.”
“Who says that?” Sugarcoat asked. “I don’t.”
Indigo furrowed her eyebrows, listening to the noises coming from her phone. “Dunno. I hear her saying that she’s on her way, but it sounds like someone is trying to choke a baboon in the background.”
Bulk winced. “I haven’t heard anyone calling it that before…”
“I mean a literal baboon.” Indigo stifled a chuckle. “Seriously, it sounds like she’s taking a scenic route across the jungle.”
Sandalwood took a look at the car park near the train station and frowned. “Damn. The Geneva convention guys heard you, Sugarcoat.” He pointed at the large, black car that had just parked near the entrance. “Do we run?”
“Wait,” Indigo said. “I think it’s Flash…”
By the time they reached the station, Flash was pretty sure that he had pissed off some powerful deity who decided to make his life miserable. When the driver finally arrived, all of the girls were wearing the get-together sweater, which didn’t exactly make them get together, but most certainly pissed Sour Sweet off.
To make things worse, the driver turned out to be a tall and thin old woman with grey hair and an expression suggesting that four girls wearing one sweater who ended up in the back of her car were definitely not the best thing she’d seen in her life. She wore a black coat, but Flash was pretty sure that she had another one at home, made of dalmatians.
His mood got completely ruined when he opened the trunk of the car to put all the bags there. A large collection of kitchen knives he found was rather worrying, and he wasn’t sure whether a similar amount of spoons and forks should calm him down or make him panic.
“Don’t worry, I use those at work,” the woman said. “My other work, that is,” she added, seeing his expression. “Could you tell that tall one to stop yelling like a choked baboon?”
“I… I’m not sure she’d listen.” Flash sighed and took a seat next to the driver. Luckily, she wasn’t very talkative and the ride passed uneventfully, once he learned to ignore the noises from the backseat.
Finally, they reached the railway station. Just one stare from the driver made Flash quickly give her five stars before getting out to grab the luggage.
“Someone has to help me carry those,” he said. “Those purple bags weigh a ton.”
“Leave them, those are mine,” Sunny muttered. Getting out of the car in the sweater took her a while, but she finally stood up, having Lemon behind her back. “Also, I feel molested.”
“My hands are here,” Lemon said, raising her hands. “And you’re free to go.”
“Thanks.” Sunny slipped out of the sweater and took her bags from Flash. “Those are pretty delicate.”
“Can I go too?” Sour Sweet asked Muffins.
“Only if you behave,” Muffins replied. Sour Sweet quickly followed Sunny, leaving only Lemon and Muffins in the sweater. Flash sighed and walked to the platform, feeling the stares the rest of his friends were giving him.
“What happened?” Sandalwood asked when the whole group reunited.
“I have no idea.” Flash shrugged.
“Sounds like my whole life,” Muffins said. “Like seriously, first it was kinda dark and wet and then I got out and there was this doctor who checked if I was breathing and–”
“Nah, I’m talking about that one time when I fell into the well.”
“How do you fall into the well?” Indigo asked.
“Gravity. Look it up.”
Indigo furrowed her eyebrows. “I mean… Not technically, but–”
“Long story,” Muffins said. “I’ll tell you on a train.”
“It’s a long story, indeed.” Bulk nodded. “I heard it before.”
“That was the other time I fell into a well,” Muffins smirked. “It wasn’t as interesting. Just wait...”
“... and then it turned out someone sprayed WD40 on the brakes of my bicycle.”
The train rocked on the tracks in the middle of barren fields covered in snow, which kept falling from grey sky. Their compartment was warm and bright; Flash was trying to tune the acoustic guitar he’d brought with him while Muffins kept telling stories, one more absurd than the other.
“Was that you?” Bulk asked. Indigo was sitting on his lap, nodding off.
“Yeah.” Muffins blushed. “Who’d think that to make them work smoother, you don’t have to spray the brake disc.” She shrugged. “So anyway, I fell off the cliff…”
“Did you survive?” Lemon asked. Sugarcoat and Sour Sweet gave her weird looks.
“Well, next thing I remember was some half-naked hippie giving me CPR. I got high from her breath alone,” Muffins replied.
“Been there before,” Sunny muttered, checking something on her wrist device.
“Okay, I’m done.” Flash looked at his guitar. “It should be fine now.”
“But does it djent?” Sugarcoat asked.
“It has six standard strings,” Flash replied. “Of course it can’t djent. Also, you and Ringo should meet. He’s also into djent and hatred towards the world.”
Sugarcoat shrugged. “I prefer noise and mathcore, myself.”
“I never heard of any of those,” Bulk muttered. “But then, I mostly listen to classical music. Which, despite what Flash thinks, doesn’t exactly mean classic rock.”
Lemon smirked. “Don’t worry. Sugarcoat listens only to stuff no one ever heard about. Like, she’d be into a dude banging a hammer against a metal pipe.”
Indigo opened her eyes. “Banging? No banging, I’m tired.” She turned on Bulk’s lap, resting her face against the window and snoring.
“Only one thing on her mind, huh?” Sandalwood muttered.
“Two.” Flash played a chord on his guitar. “One of them is sleeping.”
“But seriously, Bulk, you and her…” Sandalwood smirked. “I sometimes wonder how–”
“Don’t.” Bulk muttered. His words were punctuated with a dramatic chord of Flash’s guitar.
“Yeah, better not,” Sunny said. “Sour Sweet is weirdly excited even without that.” She pointed at Sour Sweet, who was staring through the window at the unfolding snowstorm.
“Of course I’ll murder that prissy one first,” Sour Sweet whispered to herself. “Then I’ll sacrifice the rest to the god of wind…”
“Okay, that’s weird even for you,” Sugarcoat said.
“What?” Sour Sweet smiled in the most unconvincing way. “I’m just screwing with you.”
Sugarcoat sighed. “Have you ever thought of becoming a stand-up comedian?”
“No, why?” Sour Sweet asked.
“Don’t do that. Ever.”
Bulk smirked. “After one routine, the whole audience would be fearing for their lives. We need to drop her at some open mic venue just to see this.”
“Right after that, we give them Sugarcoat,” Sandalwood said. “And watch them turning into an angry mob after she offends everyone.”
Flash stopped playing guitar. “Nah, there’s no way Sugarcoat can offend everyone.”
“With a tough room, I just start talking about politics,” Sugarcoat replied. “That, or my views on young mothers and their brats.”
“Okay, that may work.” Flash played a quick chord progression. “I need to come up with lyrics to this. Something about a girl who offended everyone.”
“It’s pretty appropriate that you’re using those cliché chords for it.” Sugarcoat muttered. “I really appreciate that.”
Sandalwood looked at Muffins. “I assume that’s the moment when we should feel jealous, right?”
“Oh, please.” Muffins smirked. “Flash wouldn’t leave me for Sugarcoat.”
Indigo opened her eyes. “I wouldn’t leave you for Sugarcoat either.”
“How about me?” Bulk asked.
“Same.” Indigo blinked and rubbed her eyes. “Even if I wasn’t straight, I just wouldn’t be into her.” She turned to Bulk. “Besides, Sugarcoat never made me a Christmas sweater.”
“I can make you a Christmas sweater.” Muffins pointed at the sweater she and Lemon Zest kept wearing during the whole train ride. “For you and Bulk, even.”
“No, thanks.” Indigo shuddered. “He’d just carry me around, my legs dangling in the air…”
“Could’ve grown a bit more,” Sour Sweet muttered.
“Said the girl who has grown out of every single of her uniforms. At least twice a year.” Indigo smiled at Bulk. “Not that I mind being carried…”
Sunny Flare sighed. “How much longer will this trip take?”
“All night,” Lemon replied. “Not that I mind...”
The first ray of sunshine found its way through the clouds and reached the windows of the train. Hardly anyone saw it; most of the passengers were asleep. In fact, just two of them were awake at the moment and even that was saying much. Lemon Zest was nodding off; she’d reached the end of her playlist a while ago and all that she could listen to now was Muffins.
“So, they say that if a virgin ever leaves Canterlot High, the horse statue will move.” Muffins said. She didn’t look sleepy at all, making Lemon wonder how she was doing it. “Knowing some girls in my class, this statue will friggin’ gallop across the town soon…”
“Dude…” Lemon muttered, staring at her friends, who were sleeping on their seats in positions that’d make yoga masters proud. The train was now climbing up a hill; the sun was shining and Lemon could see the outline of some buildings nearby.
“To think about it, we should wake them up.” Muffins looked around and cleared her throat. “Wake up, guys! We hit an iceberg!”
“What the fuck, Muffins…” Flash muttered, looking around groggily.
“No, but seriously, you’d better pack your stuff, guys.” Muffins stood up. Lemon, having no other choice, stood up with her. “We’re close to the station.”
The compartment exploded in chaos as everyone woke up, trying to collect their belongings. Indigo barely avoided getting hit by one of Sunny’s bags. Luckily, Bulk managed to deflect it so it fell on Sandalwood’s lap instead.
“What the hell are you carrying in here?” Sandalwood cried. “Bricks?”
“Make-up, jewellery, a two-way radio…” Sunny replied, grabbing the bag. “What? I need to be in touch with the numbers stations.”
“Yeah, you could miss a signal from your mothership,” Sugarcoat muttered, helping Sandalwood up. “Come on, cowboy, I’ll help you with your pains later.”
The train skidded to a halt and they walked out on the platform. The large thermometer in front of the station’s building showed a humble -4°F on one side of the scale and -20°C on the other. Despite that, the weather was sunny and the air was dry, thus lessening the impact of the temperature.
The town, however, wasn’t so impressive. Indigo was sure that they and a couple of people that left the train with them doubled its population.
“It’s just one street,” Sugarcoat said, looking around.
“’Our Village’ didn’t sound as good as ‘Our Town’, but we’re expanding,” replied a tall, pink skinned girl wearing an apron, who was walking nearby. She pointed at the unfinished hotel at one end of the street and at the nearby hills. Indigo noticed a couple of ski lifts installed on the slopes, as well as a small ski jumping hill.
“Is there even anything worth seeing in this town?” Sunny Flare asked. “For someone who isn’t much into skiing and doesn’t want to spend all the time in the bars?”
“We only have one bar,” the girl replied. “But if you want, you can always visit my bakery. Just ask for Sugar Belle.”
“Well, that sounds like a plan,” Indigo said. “Though I’m more into skiing, myself.”
“How about historical landmarks?” Sugarcoat asked.
Sugar Belle furrowed her eyebrows for a moment. “Well, there’s Starlight Glimmer’s house.”
“You mean, that Sunset Shimmer’s friend?” Muffins asked. “I didn’t know she’s that famous.”
Sugar Belle raised her eyebrows. “Is that Sunset Shimmer in her sixties, eh? Because if not, that must be some other Starlight Glimmer. The one I’m talking about was probably the most famous person born here.”
“What did she do?” Sunny asked. “Invented a new way of using maple syrup?”
“Nah, it’s easy to remember,” Sugar Belle replied. “1971, seventy-one bullets in her and that was the end of Starlight Glimmer.”
Sugarcoat sighed.“Was it because of her painful rhymes?”
“I guess murders, bank robberies, and leading a cult were also a factor,” Sugar Belle deadpanned.
“Cool,” Sour Sweet muttered. “I need to see that house.”
“First, we have to get to the hotel,” Bulk said. “Then we can take a look around…”
While the top floor of the hotel hadn’t been finished yet, the rest of the building seemed quite functional. It stood right at the end of the town’s only street, followed on by a board informing the tourists that they were entering Our Town (also called Notre Ville), population 110.
Appropriately, the receptionist seemed to only speak Quebec French, but after hearing a couple of sacres from Sunny Flare, she quickly found a couple of rooms for them.
It soon turned out that despite its size, the town was pretty popular among tourists. Sunny barely managed to put her bags in the room she was supposed to share with Sour Sweet, when she was assaulted by some green-skinned girl wearing a dark jacket and black trousers.
“Hello, I’m Sophisticata,” the girl said quickly, before Sunny managed to hide in her room. “I know you.”
“I did nothing wrong and I have to call my lawyer first,” Sunny said.
“You’re that girl who broke into a store wearing a–”
“Yeah, I know.” Sunny rolled her eyes, opening the door to her room and gesturing Sour Sweet towards herself. Sour Sweet only looked at Sophisticata and gave Sunny the finger.
Sophisticata didn’t notice that. “I’ve heard your mother is in the movie industry, right?”
“More like TV shows and ads,” Sunny replied. “What do you want?”
“Well, I’m an actress.” Sophisticata stood straight. “Why, let the stricken deer go weep…”
“Nice.” Sunny smirked. “What’s that?”
Sophisticata furrowed her eyebrows for a moment, but then smiled again. “I thought that since we’re from the same town and I kinda know Muffins, you’d help me with my future career…”
“Well, maybe one day.” Sunny looked around and saw Indigo, Bulk, Muffins, and Lemon going somewhere. “We can talk about it later after I’m done skiing. See ya!” She turned back and ran to the group of her friends.
“What a wankbubble,” she muttered once they were outside Sophisticata’s earshot. “You guys know her?”
“Of course,” Bulk replied. “I didn’t know Sophisticata decided to come here too.”
“You know what that means?” Muffins asked. “Drama Letter is somewhere here too.” She smirked. “Those two are sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S–”
“Huh.” Sunny shuddered. “At least she didn’t try to reach my mother through my bed.”
“You wouldn’t be her type,” Muffins said. They went outside the hotel and walked down a path leading towards ski slopes. “She’s only gay for Drama Letter.” She sniffed. “You don’t even smell like Drama Letter.”
“She does smell like drama in general, though…” Indigo muttered.
Lemon walked closer to Sunny and sniffed her hair. “I don’t think so. More like sweat, whiskey, train, and expensive jasmine perfume on the top of that.”
Bulk looked at the hill unsurely. Contrary to his worries, he managed to borrow skis that’d fit him without any problems. However, it’d been a while since he went skiing and he most definitely didn’t want Indigo to best him at it.
However, it seemed that at least he wouldn’t be the worst. Muffins and Lemon chose snowboards, but Sunny insisted on skis. When she finally put them on, Bulk thought that he should get a camera. Not for any social media, but rather for an insurance company.
“Okay.” Sunny looked at her legs, now adorned by pink skis and boots of the same colour. “How do I turn?”
“Quickly,” Indigo replied. “You lean in the desired direction and move your skis in there. It’s kinda like rollerskating. Any more questions?”
“How do I get to the top of the hill?” Sunny asked.
“With a lift.” Bulk pointed at a T-bar lift leading up one of the easiest routes on the slope.
“I’ll go with you.” Indigo slid towards the lift on her skis and waited for Sunny. “You stand here, place this bar under your butt…”
“Ouch!” Sunny yelled when the lift yanked her upwards. Indigo shook her head, looking at her as she was dragged upwards. Then she caught another bar and followed her friend.
“Don’t let it go!” Indigo shouted. “Or else I’ll run you over!”
In response, Sunny muttered something incomprehensible. Luckily, she managed to get to the top without falling off the lift, although she nearly fell after leaving it.
“I’m fine,” she said when Indigo joined her. “So, now I’m going down, right?”
“Yeah,” Indigo replied. “Just make sure to turn and ride across the slope, not straight down or you’ll get too fast.”
“Sure.” Sunny pushed herself off the snow with the ski poles and rushed down. Indigo watched her as she slid down the first few metres of the slope without falling. Which, in turn, surprised her so greatly that she immediately collapsed, losing a pole.
“Not bad.” Indigo said, riding to Sunny and helping her up.
Indeed, soon Sunny’s skills improved enough for her to join the rest of the group by the aerial lift. This route was much longer and more steep, but at least the aerial lift wasn’t yanking her butt.
“If someone tries to swing the gondola, I’ll kill them, okay?” Sunny said, looking at Muffins and Lemon, who kept giggling.
“Assuming you can reach them,” Bulk said. The gondola was leaning slightly to the right because of his weight, giving Sunny a closer view on the ground.
“You’re not being fair,” Indigo said. “I mean, Lemon and Muffins keep falling too.”
“They’re snowboarding. It’s a part of the fun,” Bulk replied. “And I’m pretty sure they’re doing it on purpose.”
“I once fell so hard my eyes went straight,” Muffins muttered. “That’s so messed up, you have no idea.”
“Actually, I do,” Lemon said. “I mean, my eyes are like that by default.”
“Whatever,” Indigo muttered, pushing herself off the snow and skiing down the hill. Soon, she left everybody behind, slaloming between poles placed on one side of the slope. The wind blowing around her deafened her as she turned across the plain of snow.
She turned towards the top of the hill and saw Bulk approaching her – once he managed to gain some speed, he was nearly unstoppable. Indigo couldn’t see Muffins and Lemon anywhere; she guessed they chose the part of the slope littered with rails and ramps where they could show off their skills.
Indigo reached the edge of the slope and made a sharp turn, speeding up. The snow was smooth and the sun was shining; nothing could stop her. She blinked, watching the last part of the slope in front of her. It was more gentle, leading towards the ski lifts. Cutting right through it, she accelerated, braking only before the rows of safety nets at the end of the slope.
“Awesome!” she exclaimed, rubbing her thighs, sore from all the turning. Bulk stopped next to her, followed by Lemon.
“I made a backflip,” Lemon said, breathing heavily.
“I only scared some kid off,” Bulk muttered. “Where’s Muffins?”
At the same moment, Muffins collapsed and skid to a halt in front of him. “I made a frontflip with a method grab, but hell, never again. It’s a bad idea to land on the rail and fall off of it.”
“Yeah, it’s better to have a spine than not to have it.” Bulk nodded.
“Do tell.” Muffins got up. “I first became interested in extreme sports after watching the Dudesons.”
“That explains many things.” Bulk smirked.
“Yeah, it totally does.” Indigo shrugged. “Has anyone seen Sunny?”
Suddenly, she felt that someone rode over the backs of her skis, missing her by a few inches and rammed into the safety nets, screaming. A second later, they heard the sound of two heavy objects colliding, followed by the car alarm.
“I’m fine…” Sunny groaned.
“Let me guess: you forgot how to brake?” Indigo asked, looking at the trail of destruction, leading across the safety nets towards an off-road car with a nasty scratch in the door. “Good thing we got you a helmet.”
Sunny sighed, trying to get up, but the skis and the slight incline of the car park definitely weren’t making it easier for her. “Shut up and help me…”
Sugarcoat and Sour Sweet walked towards the abandoned house and looked at it. It was on the other side of the town, a bit away from other buildings. Despite that, it was well-preserved, with a plaque next to the door.
“Starlight Glimmer, December 7th, 1941 – August 8th, 1971, cult leader, bank robber, and murderer lived here,” Sugarcoat read. “Not much.” She looked at the door. “Seems that there’s a museum inside, though.”
“One day there’ll be such a plaque next to my door.” Sour Sweet smirked. “But maybe it’ll say something nicer.”
“Yeah. Something like, ‘managed not to murder anyone with an axe’,” Sugarcoat replied.
The door opened and two girls walked out of the house. Sugarcoat recognised one of them as Sandalwood’s classmate, Sophisticata. The other, with green hair and a beret, was most likely Drama Letter – the transparent closet those two apparently lived in was one of Sandalwood’s favourite gossip subjects.
“So, I think that her love life could use some work in the movie,” Sophisticata said. “I mean, you look a bit similar, so you could play her, while I’d play your best friend–”
“I know someone who looks more like her,” Drama Letter replied. “That Sunset Shimmer’s friend. Hell, I think her name is Starlight too.”
“You mean that green one?”
“No, that’s the other Starlight.”
Sugarcoat cleared her throat. “Excuse me, what are you talking about?”
Sophisticata looked at her. “Oh, you’re Sunny Flare’s friend, right? We’re planning to make a movie based on Starlight Glimmer’s biography, but we need money, a producer, actors, basically everything. Unfortunately, Sunny Flare didn’t have time to talk with us–”
“Maybe because she and her mother are hopeless alcoholics,” Sour Sweet muttered.
“Shut up, Sour,” Sugarcoat muttered, looking at her phone. “So, you’re saying that you want to make a movie about Starlight Glimmer? Focusing on what exactly?”
“Her relationships,” Sophisticata replied.
“And her fight against the establishment…” Drama Letter paused, seeing Sugarcoat’s glare.
“Wi-fi here is shit, but I just read she eviscerated two people before the bank director opened the vault for her,” Sugarcoat replied. “The money went into arming and reinforcing the ranch-turned-fortress where she eventually got killed along with, like, half of her followers. I prefer the establishment, somehow.”
Sophisticata blushed, furrowing her eyebrows. “Well, Bonnie Bons and Troubleshoes Clyde also became popcultural icons, despite–”
“Which doesn’t change the fact that he was a common criminal and she was an idiot who liked bad boys,” Sugarcoat replied. “There’s at least one in every class, but none of them gets a romantic legend about them, am I right?” She turned to Sour Sweet.
Sour Sweet nodded. “Lemon is like that. I was her bad girl.”
“More like troubled,” Sugarcoat muttered. “But that still doesn’t change the fact that we’re focusing too much on people who end up wrecking stuff up rather than those who build it.”
“For the record: if you say ‘no wonder this world looks like this’, I’m out,” Sour Sweet said.
“I won’t,” Sugarcoat replied. “Now, let’s see that museum.”
Drama Letter raised her eyebrows. “You still want to see it?”
Sugarcoat opened the door. “Well, I may not like her, but I wouldn’t miss an occasion to learn more about her. See you later, guys…”
Flash cursed under his breath. Everybody went off somewhere, leaving him and Sandalwood in their room while they were unpacking their stuff. Now they met in the corridor and, having nothing better to do, they started to look around for something the town had to offer. Which in this case, meant playing pool at the ground floor of their hotel.
“So… best of twenty-five?” Flash asked when Sandalwood potted the eight ball again. “Where did you even learn to play that well? A year ago, I’d totally own you.”
“Sugarcoat,” Sandalwood replied. “She taught me to play snooker. Once you get that, you’re pretty much unbeatable in puny old pool.”
Flash suddenly remembered something from the night they spent in the furniture store. “Is it because of the, umm… bigger table?”
“No, we just play it from time to time.” Sandalwood sighed. “It’d be pretty hard with all the other people and stuff...“ He smirked. “Why are you asking? Did Muffins–”
“Too early for that,” Flash replied. “Way too early.” He looked at the pool table. “Hmm, we need to find something I could actually win at.”
“So, Monopoly, Jenga, laser tag, and muay thai are off,” Sandalwood muttered. He looked around and saw some blue-skinned guy with curly hair, sitting by the wall and reading something. He had a badge with the hotel logo. “Hmm, let’s ask him. He seems a bit bored.”
Flash shrugged and followed Sandalwood, who stood by the blue guy, whose name, according to the badge was Party Favor.
“Hello,” Sandalwood said. “What’s up? We’re looking for something interesting to do.”
Party Favor raised his head from his notes and smirked.
“Well, now he got the wrong idea,” Flash whispered.
Party Favor looked at him and his smirk grew wider. “The owner of the liquor store runs a casino in the back of his business. You walk to the guy, ask for the Arrogant Bastard Ale and he’ll let you in. As for the other things, there are those three girls. I don’t need that, but I’ve heard they’re very open-minded. Less so since this blonde guy is here, but at least they got tested recently and it’s totally safe.”
“No, thanks,” Sandalwood replied. “I have a girlfriend and my friend is non-practising.”
Party Favor gave Flash a look and nodded. “Ouch.”
Flash groaned and kicked Sandalwood’s ankle, to no effect.
“Anyway,” Party Favor said. “We just managed to launch the Finnish sauna in the hotel. We still need to try it out.”
“Sounds like fun,” Sandalwood said, still ignoring Flash. “Where is it?”
“I’ll show you.” Party Favor stood up and led them downstairs, to the basement.
“It’s a bad idea,” Flash muttered, when they were walking down the stairs. “I mean, we don’t know this dude.”
“He works here,” Sandalwood replied. “Murdering guests looks bad in the CV, you know.”
“That doesn’t calm me down at all…” Flash whispered, watching as Party Favor opened the door at the end of the corridor.
“Oh, come on…” Sandalwood shook his head. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
A while later, Party Favor emerged from behind the door, wearing only a towel wrapped around his hips. “Come on guys! It seems to work…”
“Do we run?” Flash whispered.
“Oh, come on,” Sandalwood muttered. “Don’t be a pansy…”
A few minutes later, they were sitting in the sauna, a nice room with brand new wooden benches and wooden walls adorned with small lamps. However, Flash and Sandalwood kept avoiding looking at each other. Mostly owing to the fact that Party Favor had gotten rid of the towel and prompted them to do the same.
“I swear, Sandalwood, if you comment on this, those stones are gonna end up somewhere they don’t belong,” Flash whispered.
“On what?” Sandalwood asked.
“You know exactly what I mean.”
Sandalwood chuckled. “Oh, so you took a look after all? Well, now I know why they call the guy ‘Party Favor’. I’m pretty sure he’s popular at parties...”
“Not as much as you’d think,” Party Favor said. “It kinda scares the ladies. But enough of this. We don’t swear, speak about sex or anything controversial in the sauna.”
“So, Sandalwood will have to shut up.” Flash smirked.
“You wish,” Sandalwood replied. “Who said I can’t talk about something classy? Like, Greek art. Do you know that ancient Greeks found large package to look funny and so their figures are usually not well–”
“Ah, that explains why I am the town’s party planner,” Party Favor muttered. “As for the art, I prefer more modern stuff. Like, Midnight Meat Train. Cutting Class, Cheerleader Massacre, Sauna of the Dead...”
Flash suddenly felt cold, despite the thermometer on the wall proudly showing the temperature that’d make water boil, if there was any in the air. “How about something more positive?”
“We only get crappy cable and, in most cases, dial-up modems,” Party Favor replied. “That’s the best you can get.”
“Ah, that explains why the best-known citizen was a murderer,” Sandalwood said.
“Well, I’m pretty sure they didn’t have TV here in the 1940s.” Party Favor shrugged. “Ditto for at least a few decades after that.”
“That explains even more.” Flash wiped his forehead. “It sure gets hot in here…”
“The problem is, the showers haven’t exactly been installed yet.” Party Favor sighed. “But we can cool ourselves the traditional way. Outside.”
Sandalwood chuckled. “Hmm, why not? It’s not like someone can see us.”
Flash raised his finger. “Well, actually… Oh, come on…” He rolled his eyes, seeing Party Favor and Sandalwood running out of the sauna, towards the backdoor. Reluctantly, he followed them.
The blast of cold air pierced Flash’s skin like a bunch of flying needles. He jumped into the pile of snow, shuddering and trying not to watch Sandalwood rolling on the ground and yelling something.
After a while, Party Favor stood up. “Okay, now it’s cold. Let’s get ba–” He looked at the door. “Who closed it?”
“Me, why?” Flash asked.
Party Favor groaned. “It stays locked when you close it.”
“Not the best idea in case of fire,” Sandalwood muttered. “Don’t you have a key?”
“Where do you think I would keep the key?” Party Favor facepalmed. “It’s inside, with our clothes.”
“Well, shit,” Flash muttered. “There’s still the main entrance, though.”
“That’s not the best of your ideas, man,” Sandalwood said. “Ladies at the reception desk would faint seeing my perfect butt, not to mention Party Favor’s–”
Party Favor cleared his throat and furrowed his eyebrows, causing Sandalwood to shut up.
“There’s another way,” Flash said. “We can climb onto the balcony here.” He pointed at the sundeck at the back of the hotel. “It’s not like anyone uses it in winter…”
Drama Letter sighed, looking at Sophisticata who was sitting on the deck chair next to her. She’d been working very hard for the whole year to go somewhere in winter and of course she wanted to try everything, but even she wasn’t that crazy to sunbathe in winter. However, Sophisticata wanted to and what she wanted Drama did.
Sunbathing wasn’t actually that bad, as there was indeed sunny, but sitting in one place for too long was a bad idea – Drama Letter was getting a bit cold. What was worse, those two girls they had met by the museum came back and, of course, decided that sunbathing would be a good idea. Sophisticata looked less than amused when Drama tried to start a conversation.
“So, how was the museum?”
“I liked the photos,” the tall girl who Drama knew as Sweeten Sour’s crazy sister replied. “Especially those the police made in that house, full of blood.” She smirked at Drama. “And Sugarcoat found a friend.”
Sugarcoat rolled her eyes. “Some blonde wanker mistook me for a town slut. What’s wrong with those people?”
“Bunch of savages in this town.” Drama Letter shrugged and turned away to face a naked guy who just climbed onto the balcony. “This again?”
The guy backpedalled. “Err… Good morning.”
Sour Sweet got up from her deck chair. “Sentry? What the fuck? Get out of here, perv before I shove you back!”
“I’d rather not,” Flash replied. “I can totally explain that…”
“Let him stay,” Drama Letter said. “I have canvas somewhere here.” She took a closer look at Flash. “I don’t have a lot of paint, but it should be enough.”
Flash blushed. “It’s because it’s cold!”
“Surely,” Sugarcoat muttered. “Care to explain how you’ve gotten yourself into that situation?”
“Hello!” Sandalwood said, climbing on the balcony and standing in front of Sugarcoat.
Sugarcoat sighed and shook her head. “Nevermind, I know.”
The collision definitely suspended Sunny’s budding skiing career. She decided to pass some time by the hot dog stand near the slope. Soon, she was joined by Muffins and Lemon when they got tired of snowboarding.
Indigo, although tired too, wasn’t done yet. The sight of the ski jumping hill nearby intrigued her. It definitely wasn’t a thing of the past – both the hill and its surroundings were well-kept and apparently in a working condition. It was soon confirmed when Indigo saw someone sliding down the inrun and jumping into the air.
“Have you seen that?” Indigo asked. “Someone’s there.”
Bulk looked at the hill. “Let me guess: we need to investigate?”
“Of course,” Indigo replied. “You don’t hear much about ski jumping, these days.”
“Maybe because it’s like, dangerous?” Bulk shrugged. “But hey, why not. People who do that for a living must be interesting.”
“If a bit crazy,” Indigo said, looking at her skis. “I’ll get my regular shoes and we can go there.”
After a while of walking, they reached the surroundings of the venue. There were no bleachers around the landing slope, just a few decrepit wooden huts Indigo thought to be changing rooms. According to the board hanging on one of the walls, the K-point of the hill was located at fifty metres, and the hill size was fifty-five metres. The “hill record” field had been erased and rewritten a few times, but apparently the current record holder was someone called Double Diamond, who jumped sixty-one and half a metre.
“Not bad,” Bulk muttered, looking at the landing zone. Any jump over the sixty metres meant landing on the flat surface at the end of the slope which wasn’t a good news for anyone’s knees.
“Hmm, wonder where everyone went.” Indigo looked around. “Is there anybody out there?”
“I am.” A tall, pale man wearing a blue jumping suit and carrying a pair of long skis walked out of one of the huts. “Who are you?”
“I’m Indigo,” Indigo replied. “And this is Bulk. We were just checking out this hill. It’s pretty big, isn’t it?”
“Not really.” The guy looked up at the inrun. “We keep it from falling apart and use it for training, mostly. And by the way, I’m Double Diamond.”
“Still, it’s pretty impressive,” Bulk said. “I mean, looks like you put a lot of effort into it.”
Double Diamond sighed. “Not nearly enough. In fact, I’m considering moving out to– Wait…” He pointed at the small silhouette sitting on the bench at the top of the hill. The person waved at him and rode down the inrun.
“Wow…” Indigo muttered as the jumper took off, spreading the skis in mid-air, forming a large “V” with them. Hovering low above the slope, they reached a bit over fifty metres before landing with one leg slightly in front of the other and skiing towards the end of the landing zone.
“Not bad,” Double Diamond said. “But you could’ve gone further.”
“The wind was crap,” the other jumper replied, taking off the helmet and revealing spiky, white hair. “That was the longest I could do.”
“Understandable, given your fondness of long things…” Double Diamond chuckled.
“Oh, get off Party Favor…” the girl replied. “Wait, that came out wrong…” She looked at Indigo and Bulk as if she noticed them only now. “Hi guys! I’m Night Glider. Me and that melancholic gentleman are training to go to Garmisch-Partenkirchen next year…”
“Excuse me…” Bulk muttered. “Where?”
“The second competition of the Four Hills Tournament takes place there on New Year,” Double Diamond replied.
“Ah, that makes sense,” Indigo replied. “May I try?”
“What?” Bulk asked.
“I mean, it doesn’t look that hard,” Indigo said. “And you fly pretty low.”
“Remember that it’s not a ramp,” Night Glider muttered. “You have to actually jump when you reach the end of the inrun. The position in flight is also important.”
“Wait, you’re not letting her try, are you?” Bulk asked.
“Well, if we find shoes in her size…” Double Diamond shrugged. “It’d be fun to find someone else to help us. Wouldn’t you want to try too?”
“No, thanks,” Bulk replied. “I’m way too heavy… And Indigo doesn’t have a self-preservation instinct.”
“Oh really?” Indigo rolled her eyes. “I’ll show you that it’s totally safe…”
Twenty minutes later, Indigo, wearing a tight suit and a pair of long skis, sat on the bar at the top of the hill. The wind was blowing in her face, which, according to Night Glider, could allow her for a longer flight. She tried to remember everything she had been told, but there was quite a lot of it. Apparently positioning the skis in a “V” shape made them act like wings; Double Diamond was pretty sure she’d miss the take off point and fall, but introduced her to telemark landing anyway. Bulk, of course, thought she was crazy.
“I’ll show him crazy,” Indigo muttered to herself. “Sixty one and a half? I can do better than that.”
She looked down and saw Night Glider waving at her, giving her the signal. Indigo pushed herself off of the bar and slid down the runway.
It was a rough ride. The ice-carved tracks were far from smooth and the pair of skis she was given weren’t properly waxed. Additionally, ski jumpers didn’t use poles. Indigo spread her hands slightly, trying to keep balance in the squatting position.
Suddenly, she realised that the angle went more shallow. Seeing the end of the inrun getting close to her, Indigo jumped. For a brief moment, she enjoyed the feeling of smooth flight, trying to catch the air under her skis and glide off.
It didn’t last long. The crosswind hit her, causing her to lose her balance. She waved her hands, but the ground suddenly went up and hit her side, sending her tumbling down the hill. She lost her skis on the way, stopping on the flat surface at the bottom, where she lay down.
Bulk rushed to her. “Indigo! Are you okay?”
Indigo blinked a few times, wiping the pinkish snow off her face. “Holy fuck…” she muttered. “Can I go again?”
“To the doctor, maybe,” Night Glider muttered. “Girl, and I thought it was bad when I fell on my head for the first time.”
Indigo touched her face and looked at her glove which suddenly turned red. “Hmm, that’s my blood?” she asked. “Oh, dear…”
“Dammit, Indigo…” Bulk shook his head as Indigo passed out.
Indigo groaned, opening her eyes. Her face stung and she couldn’t feel her hand. The world around her was rather blurry but after she blinked a few times, it sharpened a bit, revealing that the blue and violet object in front of her was Sunny Flare. She had a bandaid on her forehead and was staring at Indigo unsurely.
“Fuck,” Indigo muttered. “If that’s heaven, I want out.”
“That’s the local doctor’s office,” Sunny replied. “The guy took an X-ray of your middle finger, but as for checking if you have a brain, they want to take you to some town. Which will take a while.”
“My head’s fine,” Indigo replied. “And what are you even doing here?”
“Recovering from my injuries.” Sunny pointed on her forehead. “And stockpiling Plan B.”
“What for?” Indigo asked. “Your face works better in that matter.”
Sunny sighed. “I need to tell the doctor that the content of your bowels got to your brain when you fell and now you’re a shithead. Kinda understandable, given your hand injury.”
“What hand injury?” Indigo looked at her hand and saw that her middle finger was wrapped in bandages and a splint, keeping it permanently straightened. “Oh, I see.”
The door to the doctor’s office opened and Bulk walked in, followed by a short, bald man who, as Indigo guessed was a doctor.
“How are you?” Bulk asked, approaching Indigo and hugging her gently.
“I can flip people off!” Indigo’s chuckle ended in a groan. “Also, my ribs hurt, but I didn’t really hit myself on the head that much. Like, I remember everything.”
“So I guess you won’t do that again,” the doctor said. “I called the paramedics, but all helicopters are grounded due to snowstorm, so you’ll have to stay here.”
“This sucks,” Indigo muttered. “Can I go back to the hotel?”
The doctor cleared his throat. “Well, if you have a concussion and–”
“Well, it’s not like I can’t reach you in time, right?” Indigo shrugged. “I promise I won’t overexert myself.”
“Maybe it’d be safer if you stayed here,” Bulk said. “You hit the ground pretty hard.”
“I had a helmet. And my head didn’t get the worst hit anyway.” Indigo stood up, staggering a bit. “I mostly fainted because I’m not used to seeing my blood in large quantities, really.”
“Sure…” Sunny Flare smirked. “I saw you when those guys and Bulk brought you back to the town. You were like, ‘I can walk, leave me alone’ and so on.”
“I don’t recall that…” Indigo shrugged and looked at Bulk.
“That’s what happened,” Bulk replied. “You were in a shock, I guess.”
“See?” the doctor asked. “That’s why you’d better stay here.”
“I like the hotel more,” Indigo said, frowning. “Where do I sign the papers?”
“So, are you dying?” Sour Sweet asked.
Indigo was sitting on an armchair in her room, propped with several pillows, her eyes half-closed. “Ask me about this again and I’ll kick your ass,” she muttered.
“Ah, so you’re not.” Sour Sweet smiled. “Good for you.”
“Why they even left you with me, I have no idea…” Indigo muttered.
“It was either me or Flash and Sandalwood,” Sour Sweet replied. “And they’re hiding after they were caught with their willies in public.”
Indigo shook her head. At the same moment, the door to the room was kicked open and Lemon Zest and Muffins walked in, carrying backpacks that rang suspiciously when moved around.
“Good news,” Lemon Zest said. “It’s much easier to convince people you’re nineteen than twenty-one.”
“Damn…” Indigo muttered. “You two are already weird when you’re sober. I’m guessing now it’ll end with someone being shot with a champagne cork. Not to mention Sunny doing weird stuff.”
“She doesn’t drink,” Sour Sweet replied. “She told me so on Christmas.”
Indigo rolled her eyes. “Yeah, sure. I gotta see this.”
“It won’t be as fun without the kangaroo onesie,” Muffins said. “I have this photo as my phone wallpaper.” She showed her phone to Indigo.
“Guess by the end of the year you’ll get a new one.” Indigo smirked. “Anyway, when does the party start?”
The door once again opened in a dramatic fashion, accompanied by someone shouting, “I am the party!”
“Sandalwood.” Lemon Zest nodded. “At least you’re wearing clothes now.”
“Very funny,” Sandalwood muttered. “Anyway, Bulk and Flash are helping Party Favor with preparations. I’m telling you, this is gonna be awesome.”
“Who is Party Favor?” Muffins asked.
“A dude Flash and Sandalwood met here,” Sugarcoat said, walking into Indigo’s room. “He has a really big… talent.”
“Not that big,” Sandalwood muttered.
“I’ve seen it,” Sugarcoat said. “It is quite a big talent.”
Sour Sweet smirked. “So, this blue guy’s name is Party Favor? Maybe I should talk to him.” She looked at Lemon Zest. “I’m getting kinda sick with all those whiny women in my life. Maybe it’s time to hook up with a farm boy who has a huge pecker.”
“Oh, quit it,” Lemon muttered.
“I think he’s taken,” Indigo said, recalling her meeting with Night Glider earlier.
“That’s not a problem.” Sour Sweet barred her teeth.
Sugarcoat gulped. “Well, now you have my curiosity...”
Our Town, having only one street, didn’t have a main square as such. However, everyone who either lived there or came to spend New Year’s Eve there gathered in the street, around the makeshift stage where a local band played some catchy standards. Several bonfires and numerous torches lit the area.
Sunny Flare looked at a couple of empty mugs of root beer on a wooden table in front of her and groaned. “I can’t do this,” she muttered.
“What’s wrong?” Bulk asked. The bench he was sitting on seemed like it was going to break under combined weight of him and Indigo. Sunny just waited for it to happen.
“There’s a party and I’m sober, that’s what,” Sunny replied. “How do you even do that, Indigo?”
“I never started,” Indigo said. “Besides, can’t you do something else? Like dancing?”
“You don’t dance.”
“But I fell on my head.” Indigo sighed.
“If you feel bad, we can go to the doctor,” Bulk said. “Even better, he’s here.” He pointed at the people dancing in front of the stage.
“Nah, I’m fine,” Indigo said.
Suddenly, someone dropped like a sack of potatoes on the bench next to Sunny. Soon, he turned out to be Flash who shook his head, resting his hands on the table.
“Woohoo!” Muffins cooed. “Who else wants to dance? Bulky?”
“Maybe later,” Bulk replied, looking at Flash, who was rubbing his feet, groaning.
Muffins looked at Sunny. “Then you’ll go and dance with me!”
Sunny took a deep breath. “Fine,” she said. “Just wait a minute, I need to get rid of this root beer.” She stood up and walked to the wall of the nearby building, lifting her skirt.
Flash winced. “Wait, how does she–”
“Drunken convenience!” Sunny yelled, unbothered by the audience.
“It takes some skill, but girls can pee standing too, you know,” Indigo said.
“I never learned to.” Muffins shrugged. “I can pee all over myself when I’m sitting, so I don’t even try standing…”
“Too much information,” Bulk muttered.
“There’s no such thing as ‘too much information’ among friends!” Muffins exclaimed.
Sunny walked back into the circle of light from the bonfires. She disinfected he hands with some gel. “Okay, now I can dance,” she said, reaching for Muffins with her hand.
Muffins backpedalled, searching for something in her pockets. She eventually found some baby wipes and gave them to Sunny. “I’ve heard enough about endospores from my mother to have trust issues when people disinfect their hands without washing them first.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Sunny wiped her hands and walked with Muffins, leaving Indigo, Bulk, and Flash at the table.
“So…” Indigo looked at the flames of the nearby bonfire. “Are you mad at me?”
“I don’t!” Indigo exclaimed. “Well, maybe a little…”
Bulk shook his head. “I’d say a lot.”
Before Indigo could reply, Flash raised his head. “Well, it was you who started this conversation in the first place, so I guess Bulk is right.”
Indigo groaned. “What? And what even happened to you?”
“I think Muffins tried a fusion dance,” Flash replied. “But we somehow ended up with morris dance.”
“Well, now that’s dangerous,” Indigo said. “Though my ribs say no.”
“Those are some wise ribs,” Bulk muttered, embracing Indigo. “And nice ones, too…”
“Leave my ribs alone,” Indigo said. “Also, I’m not seeking attention, so if you’d–”
“Well, you don’t have to seek my attention.” Bulk smiled.
“Mhm.” Indigo smirked. “I know where it is…”
“I’m gonna puke,” Flash muttered. “Seriously– Whoa!” He raised from the bench, knocking it over, when some girl landed on the table. Indigo recognised her as Sugar Belle.
“Which of you suckers took a leak on my wall?” Sugar Belle muttered, blinking. “Though nevermind, I need help. Some girls started a fight.”
“Nah, that’s just Muffins dancing,” Flash muttered.
“Not really,” Sugar Belle said. “I’m pretty sure that I got a left hook from some girl in glasses, though…”
Sugarcoat groaned, looking around. While dancing, she was separated from Sandalwood and found herself somewhere near the stage, deafened by the band trying to murder another evergreen. She also had a few beers, against her better judgement, and was just feeling a pleasant buzz. Sandalwood was nowhere to be found, even though Sugarcoat was sure no one else had dreadlocks.
“Hey, Fond Feather!” someone behind Sugarcoat yelled. She ignored him, but then the person tapped her back. “May I buy you a drink, Fondie?”
Sugarcoat turned back and looked at the guy, who was slightly shorter than her and wore rather tasteless clothes, resembling a pimp or a hipster. “Do I look like Fond Feather to you, schmuck?”
“Oh, sorry,” the guy muttered, disappearing in the crowd. Sugarcoat shook her head and walked away from the scene, only to end up ramming into some rather tall and rather tipsy gentleman.
“Hey, Fond Feather!” the guy exclaimed. “We should totally meet again! Last time, I nearly sucked the bedcloth in with my ass when–”
Sugarcoat’s eyes narrowed. “Impressive. But you’d better buy some glasses. You couldn’t tell me from that Fond Feather from up there?”
The guy furrowed his eyebrows. “You’re not Fond Feather.”
“Your mother must be proud of such a bright son,” Sugarcoat muttered. “Now get the fuck out, I need to find my boyfriend.”
She walked away, leaving the guy alone. She just reached one of the bonfires, when she heard someone again.
“Hey, Fond Feather!”
“What do you want, you son of a flea-infested ass?” Sugarcoat turned back. However, she noticed that another girl next to her also turned towards the bonfire; she looked at her.
The girl was of a similar height as Sugarcoat and her hair had a similar colour. However, her skin was slightly darker; her hairstyle, while similar when seen from some distance, lacked the sophistication of Sugarcoat’s long pigtails. She also didn’t wear glasses.
“You’re Fond Feather, right?” Sugarcoat asked.
“Yeah,” Fond Feather replied in a dreamy tone, with a hint of Quebec accent. “And you?”
“Sugarcoat,” Sugarcoat replied. “So, you’re that slut people keep mistaking me for?”
Fond Feather blinked, her jaw dropping. “What did you say?” she asked, the dreamy tone suddenly evaporating from her voice.
“I mean, I appreciate your, umm… track record,” Sugarcoat said, putting her left leg slightly back. “I have needs myself, too. But some of those guys that mistook me for you were, to put it mildly, fugly. You probably don’t have much choice, but–”
Fond Feather furrowed her eyebrows. “You want a beating, eh?”
“Why would I?” Sugarcoat asked. “I’m offering a friendly advice and–”
She had to admit, Fond Feather was fast. Sugarcoat barely managed to dodge her charge, countering with a left hook. It missed a mark, slamming into the back of some blonde girl’s head. The girl turned back, glaring at Sugarcoat angrily.
Sparing no punches for anyone who tried to stop her, Sugarcoat jumped on the bench to avoid the blonde girl and her dark-haired friend who joined Fond Feather. The band noticed the ruckus and started to play a fast-paced saxophone tune.
“Dear Darling?” Sugarcoat asked, narrowly avoiding the blond girl catching her legs. “You don’t limit yourself to guys…”
“That’s my name!” the blonde girl shouted.
“Your parents must’ve–” Sugarcoat suddenly decided that she’d be much safer on the table, much to the displeasure of the people sitting at it. “It’s over! I have the high ground!”
“Oh, I don’t think so!” Swoon Song exclaimed, jumping on the table. It fell down, sending her and Sugarcoat down in a frenzy of food and drinks. Kicking and biting, Sugarcoat freed herself from the trio and collided with Sour Sweet, who just punched a guy next to her.
“Why did you punch him?” Sugarcoat exclaimed.
Sour Sweet shrugged. “It began, didn’t it?”
“What began!?” Sugarcoat staggered when someone hit her in the hip with a bench, right before being overwhelmed by Fond Feather and her friends. Sour Sweet joined the brawl too, grabbing Dear Darling and throwing her away from the main pile of bodies. Dear Darling, however, still couldn’t get enough. She grabbed an empty tankard and threw it at Sour Sweet, who took a step aside.
The tankard arced through the air and landed on Lemon Zest, who was just walking there to see what was going on. Her hair cushioned the blow, but it was still enough for Sour Sweet to unleash the primal fury.
“Don’t you ever dare throwing things at my girlfriend!” she yelled, jumping to Dear Darling and grabbing her hair.
“You should consider some less ridiculous one-liners,” Sugarcoat muttered, trying to free herself from Fond Feather’s grasp, while simultaneously strangling Swoon Song with her legs. Sour Sweet didn’t pay attention, focused on trying to get through Dear Darling’s defence – despite being held, the girl was pretty good at blocking the blows.
“I’m not your girlfriend!” Lemon Zest shouted, grabbing Sour Sweet and trying to pull her away from Dear Darling. “Leave her!”
“Oh, come on.” Sour Sweet freed herself from Lemon’s grasp and elbowed her in the solar plexus, sending her tumbling back. “No one will beat you when I’m here…”
“Oh, fuck you…” Lemon whispered, trying to catch a breath.
Behind her, the fight between Fond Feather and Sugarcoat devolved into scratching and pulling hair, with a healthy dose of kicking shins. The brawl also broke out around them; at least a couple of people remembered how annoying their neighbours were over the last year and decided that it was time for a payback. The others, hidden behind the tables, kept throwing snowballs at the fighters, only adding to the chaos.
Suddenly, the fight ended. Not on its own, though; Bulk walked between Fond Feather and Sugarcoat and lifted them both effortlessly. They still tried to reach each other, but it was all for nothing. Meanwhile, Sandalwood pulled Sour Sweet away from Dear Darling, who immediately decided to counterattack, before Party Favor stopped her.
“A misunderstanding.” Sugarcoat shot Bulk a glare. “Put me down!”
“You totally pulled off an Indigo here,” Sandalwood said. He was still holding Sour Sweet’s wrists and given the nasty glare she was giving him, he was reluctant to let her go. “What was that about?”
“There can be only one!” Fond Feather guffawed, much to Bulk’s annoyance.
“Oh, quit it, knock-off,” Sandalwood muttered.
Fond Feather looked at him and turned to Sugarcoat. “Who is that tool bench?”
“My boyfriend,” Sugarcoat replied.
Fond Feather nodded. “That explains a lot, eh?”
“Nah, I’ve been that way before.” Sugarcoat cleared her throat and looked at Bulk. “Could you put us down?”
Bulk nodded, gently placing Sugarcoat and Fond Feather on the ground. A moment later, they were joined by Indigo, who’d walked through the crowd slowly to avoid anyone bumping into her injured ribs. Now she looked at the battlefield and smirked.
“Well, at least it wasn’t me this time,” she muttered.
About an hour before midnight, the party moved to the hotel, mostly due to the bonfires going out and the temperature at night reaching levels when even true Canadians had to put on sweaters.
Sugarcoat stood on the balcony and inhaled the cold air. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you, people. It’s so beautiful outside.”
“Maybe for you,” Sunny Flare muttered from her bed. She’d lost her shoes while dancing with Muffins and was currently trying to warm her feet by the fireplace. “Aren’t your ancestors from Finland?”
“Nah, my great-grandfather was from…” Sugarcoat made a few attempts at articulation of the foreign sound before coughing. “Somewhere. Four generations away and I can’t even say it…”
“Ah.” Sunny shrugged. “Come back here, Muffins got fireworks.”
Sugarcoat raised her eyebrows and walked back into the room. It immediately struck her how many people were inside. Sour Sweet was sitting on one of the beds, talking with Party Favor and Night Glider. Her new friend Fond Feather was chatting with some blonde guy; next to them, a clearly lost Hungarian tourist was drinking wine, apparently wondering what the deal was. Muffins and Sandalwood carried a crate of fireworks; Sandalwood was smoking a joint with an absolute disregard to both safety and the fact that half of the room got contact buzz.
Sugarcoat sighed and shook her head, seeing that Lemon Zest was already sleeping under the table. She looked for Indigo; she was sitting on the bed kissing with Bulk, but Sugarcoat was sure she had some sharpies with her just to draw something obscene on Lemon’s face.
“You’d better take this to the balcony,” Sugarcoat said, seeing that Flash and Double Diamond just brought another crate full of fireworks. She turned to Sunny and saw her sitting on the couch, with Sophisticata and Drama Letter performing something in front of her.
“Come here,” Sunny muttered. “It’s like Macbeth meets Seinfeld on drugs.” When Sugarcoat joined her on the couch, she lowered her voice to a whisper. “They apparently think I’m doing castings for my mother. However, I’m not a real casting agent and there’s no job…”
Sophisticata suddenly paused in the middle of the line and looked at Sunny. “Well, that’d be it. How did you like my Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead crossover with Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas?”
“Wait, you weren’t high?” Sugarcoat asked.
“Of course not,” Sophisticata replied, pointing at Sunny Flare. “She, however, got high on Drama’s asthma medication… Or so she thinks.”
“It may be the atmosphere.” Sugarcoat looked at Sandalwood. “Also, I guess you’ve never met Sunny before?”
Sophisticata shrugged. “Briefly.”
“That explains many things,” Sugarcoat replied.
Sophisticata wanted to ask about those things, but at the same moment the Hungarian tourist that had been swept by the crowd walked to her and said something.
“Hey, I know this language!” Sophisticata smirked. “Lófasz a seggedbe!”
The tourist furrowed his eyebrows. “Up yours too!” he exclaimed and walked away.
“Wait, what did I say?” Sophisticata asked.
“Something about horses,” Drama Letter replied. Suddenly, a loud explosion shook the windows behind her, causing dust and several spiders to fall from the ceiling.
“That’s some unnecessary attempt at drama,” Sunny muttered. “Warn us next time, okay? I could’ve shat myself.”
“It’s not her.” Sugarcoat pointed at the balcony. Several silhouettes were running around the fireworks being fired at the sky. “Someone started celebrating fifteen minutes early.”
“Also, I wonder how did you know it was about horses?” Sophisticata looked at Drama, who shrugged.
“I recently took interest in independent European por–” Her words drowned in another round of explosions. The balcony looked like the turret of an old battleship in the midst of the battle. The fireworks kept flying into the dark sky, colourful sparks illuminating the snow on nearby mountains.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Drama Letter held Sophisticata’s hand as they watched the sight in front of them. Soon, they were joined by Bulk and Indigo, embracing each other.
“Wanna bet Flash loses a hand first?” Indigo asked.
“Nah, he actually takes some safety measures,” Bulk said. “Unlike Sandalwood.”
“Stop ruining the moment,” Sophisticata hissed.
Bulk smirked. “Speaking of moment ruining, it wasn’t me who wanted to add a romantic subplot to The Chairs.”
“I admit that it was a mistake,” Sophisticata muttered.
“Damn,” Sugarcoat said, looking at Bulk and Indigo. “I’d like to snuggle too, but of course Sandalwood is outside.” She looked at the balcony. “Trying to get his dick shot off with a firework, if I see it well.”
“You can snuggle with me,” Sunny said. “My boyfriend is in Japan and it’s not like he ever leaves his room…”
Sugarcoat moved as far away from Sunny as the couch would let her. Sunny shrugged and looked at her wrist device. “So, according to the atomic clock this thing gets its time from, we have about twenty seconds to midnight, so if anyone is in for the last fucking this year, they’d better–” She looked at the other corner of the room, where Sour Sweet, Night Glider, and Party Favor had been sitting earlier. “Oh my.”
Sugarcoat raised her eyebrows. “Get yourself a room, you three!”
Sunny looked away from what Sour was doing and looked at the screen. “Five… Four… Three… Two…. One… Happy New Year, motherfuckers. Hope it’ll be better than the last one.”
The roar of fireworks intensified, followed by Sandalwood running into the room, his hair smoking slightly. He tripped and fell in front of Sugarcoat, who looked at him with no more than a slightly raised eyebrow.
“Am I on fire?” he asked.
“No.” Sugarcoat replied. “And while we’re at it, we need to carry Lemon to her room, make sure she doesn’t choke on her vomit, and then we should go to our room…”
Sandalwood stood up and smirked. “I see.”
Indigo nodded and turned to Bulk. “Yeah, I think we should get a room too…”
Bulk looked around and smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, about that…” His eyes rested on Sandalwood. “Do you have any, you know…”
“Yeah.” Sandalwood checked his pockets and gave Bulk a pack of condoms. “Vegan, gluten-free, ecological, ridiculously overpriced and labelled as XXL to boost your ego.”
“Whatever,” Bulk muttered.
“Someone seriously makes gluten-free condoms?” Indigo asked. “It’s not like someone’s gonna eat them.”
“Money, dear Indy,” Sugarcoat said. “Also, I’m pretty sure eating them is someone’s fetish.”
“Eww…” Indigo winced. “Let’s go, before you’ll make me become a hermit.”
Bulk and Sandalwood grabbed unconscious Lemon and left the room with her and their respective girlfriends. Other guests, including Sour Sweet, Night Glider, and Party Favor also left. After a while, Sophisticata and Drama Letter excused themselves, leaving only Sunny Flare and the Hungarian tourist, who fell asleep on one of the beds.
“Just great,” Sunny muttered, checking her wrist devices. “Guess they’re already after the party in Japan…”
The balcony door opened and Muffins ran inside. “Woohoo!” she exclaimed. “We started an avalanche with those fireworks!”
“Hardly,” Sunny replied. “It’s not as easy as they say in the movies. But will this avalanche kill us all?”
“So, how was the New Year’s party?” Sweet Leaf asked.
Lemon Zest shrugged. It’d been a few days since they came back from Our Town. The school had barely started and even though they were preparing for the exams, she decided that she’d spend at least a few days a week helping in the hospice. So there she was, dressed in white and walking down the corridor with her new friend.
“I don’t know, no one told me yet,” Lemon said. “I didn’t feel well, so I had a few drinks and the next thing I remember was someone checking my pulse in the morning.”
“Poor girl,” Sweet Leaf said. “You’d better chill out with drinking.”
“Yeah, I’m going to,” Lemon muttered. “If Sunny could, I can stop drinking too.”
Sweet Leaf smiled. “That’s the spirit.”
“I also threw up on the train.” Lemon blushed. “Not the best experience.”
Sweet Leaf shook her head as they approached one of the rooms. “Since you’re new, you’ll be helping with patients who aren’t seriously ill.” She looked at Lemon. “You’ll meet Ms. Cranberry. She probably thinks we’re her daughters, no matter what you say. She also likes to sing. That’s, like, one of the few things she remembers.”
“Damn…” Lemon shuddered.
“Don’t mind her if she’s a bit rude,” Sweet Leaf sighed. “She doesn’t mean to.”
“I won’t,” Lemon replied. “How long is she like that?”
“A few years.” Sweet Leaf opened the door. “She remembers things from the past pretty well, but the present…”
Lemon raised her eyebrows. “You call that not being seriously ill?”
Sweet Leaf’s expression faltered. “In comparison to those who are unconscious, that is. After spending a long time here, it’s hard to, you know–”
“Care?” Lemon asked.
“I guess so.” Sweet Leaf sighed before putting on a professional smile. “Good afternoon, Ms. Cranberry…”
The round, fired from behind the thick bushes, pierced the tank’s armour, hitting the ammunition rack. The turret was ripped off by the explosion that shredded most of the crew. Those who avoided that fate, weren’t much better off; the fuel tank burst, engulfing the wreckage in flames.
“How did you do that?” Featherweight asked, staring at the screen in disbelief.
“I was supposed to learn physics, so I learned the placement of the ammo rack in every single tank instead,” Indigo replied, looking at him from behind her laptop. “Watch me and learn.” She rolled out of her hideout and aimed at another tank which disappeared in a huge explosion. The chat immediately filled with angry-looking cyrillic.
“Yeah, you too. And all that with a broken finger,” Indigo muttered. “Where’s everyone? What the–” Her jaw dropped when she saw that her tank suddenly exploded, hit by an unexpected shell from behind. The closer examination revealed that the shell came from a ridiculously large howitzer mounted on a tank belonging to someone called The_Muffin_Queen.
“Straight in the ass.” Featherweight chuckled.
“Oh, shut up.” Indigo groaned.
Bulk entered the room and sat on the couch next to Indigo. “You’re on fire again?”
“Yeah, but first I managed to fry your little brother,” Indigo replied. “Screw this game. I was supposed to learn physics.”
“I’d never say you were a science type,” Bulk said.
“I’m not.” Indigo shrugged. “I just don’t feel like being worse than Fleur. Or Suri Polomare. Sugarcoat and Sunny may get a pass.”
“Let me guess: by the end of the year, you all meet and battle to death?” Bulk asked, chuckling. “The last one standing graduates.”
“We don’t meet.” Indigo smirked. “We prefer hiding in the bushes with sniper rifles. Except of Sour, she prefers a bow.”
“Whose idea was to give her a bow in the first place?” Bulk scratched his head. “That just doesn’t add up…”
“It was supposed to improve her self-control,” Indigo replied. “She apparently shot her sister that never existed, so it didn’t work.”
Featherweight smiled. “Whatever. Self-control or not, she’s still gorgeous.”
Indigo raised her eyebrows. “She didn’t punch you enough? Or was it too strong?”
“Besides, she recently met a guy,” Bulk said. “A really big guy.”
“And his girlfriend,” Indigo added. “You know, Sour Sweet prefers guys who started to shave. Same goes for the girls.”
Bulk raised his eyebrows. “Do girls in your school shave?”
“No, some of them grow beards,” Indigo replied.
Featherweight’s eyes widened. “I’ll be in my room.”
Bulk shook his head after Featherweight ran upstairs. “I’m pretty sure I wasn’t like that when I was his age.”
“Yeah, sure.” Indigo chuckled. “I was that little girl with bruised knees. And I wanted to get my sister out of jail before I realised that she was a total douche.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything else from you,” Bulk said. “You just seem like someone who’d do that.”
“My initial plan involved a stolen jet and a ton of explosives,” Indigo said. “But all I could afford was a bicycle and a few boxes of firecrackers. Cinch still doesn’t know who set them off in the toilet at the second floor.”
Bulk shook his head. “And they say kids from elite schools are serious and never do dumb pranks…”
“Yeah, sure.” Indigo chuckled, stretching her hands on the couch. “The only difference between a normal kid blowing shit up with firecrackers and a kid from an elite school doing the same is that the latter says ‘now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds’ when it goes off.”
“Yeah,” Bulk replied. “And what do you say when you’re caught? ‘Woe is me’?”
“More like, ‘I won’t tell anything without my lawyer’,” Indigo said. “Or at least Sunny says so.”
“Who else but her.” Bulk chuckled. “Though I guess Sandalwood would say something like this. Right before trying to run.”
Indigo nodded, leaning closer to Bulk. “Guess those two would hook up if Sugarcoat didn’t get there first. They both are kinda off. Not, like, Sour Sweet-level off, but still not exactly right.”
“Born a hundred years too early, I’d say…” Bulk embraced Indigo. “By the way, how’s Sour Sweet? Haven’t heard from her since we came back.” He looked at the ceiling. “And it seems she’s gonna become my sister-in-law one day…”
Indigo laughed, resting herself against his arm.
The shiny walls of Crystal Prep Academy had seen and heard all kinds of things over the years. They soaked all the students’ joys and tragedies over the years like a sponge and never gave any of the secrets back. They were quiet, immobile observers.
Sour Sweet was sure that if the walls could, they’d scream constantly. She rested herself against one of them, trying to catch a breath.
“What’s going on?” Sunny asked.
“I’m pregnant,” Sour Sweet replied. The walls took that information with silence, as the foundation of such a respectable academy should. Sunny Flare, not so much.
“Did you take your meds? What the fuck are you talking about?” she asked.
“My stomach hurts.” Sour Sweet winced. “And I had sex with that guy in Our Town recently…”
“And his girlfriend too, if I recall correctly. Besides, It’s January 4th,” Sunny muttered. “That was three days ago. I had a misfortune to see that you used a condom. And you stole my Plan B.”
“You don’t use it anyway,” Sour Sweet replied.
“But I could.” Sunny groaned and looked at her wrist device. “It’s probably just Montezuma’s Revenge. Are you going? The soccer training starts soon.”
“Wait a minute.” Sour Sweet shuddered, covering her mouth, and rushed to the bathroom.
The first stall was out of order since someone blew it up with firecrackers when Sour was a freshman. Sour really hoped that person died because of some painful rash in unreachable places. The second stall was occupied and Sour barely made it to the third before leaning over and throwing up.
“Geez…” she rasped, standing up and flushing the toilet. Straightening her uniform, she staggered out of the stall and leaned against the sink. A quick look into the mirror revealed sunken eyes and dry, parchment-like skin, topped with messy hair and bloodshot eyes.
“You should’ve stayed at home today,” Sour Sweet muttered to her reflection. After getting back from Our Town, she went back to her parents’ house, ready to face the punishment. To her surprise, there was none, but she was pretty sure her family had something special in store for her.
She tried to recall anything from the previous lessons. All she remembered were fever and her stomach twisting; she only managed to eat a few bites of her lunch before excusing herself.
“But on the other hand, at home your parents would probably find you something to do, sick or not,” Sour Sweet continued. “Yeah, take care of Sweet Dreams so we don’t have to drag her to the kindergarten if she doesn’t want to. Because rotavirus is a fun thing to get if you’re six.”
“Are you okay?”
Sour Sweet’s stomach made a somersault when she heard the voice. She turned back and saw that the girl occupying the second stall just left it and was now looking at her. She was short, with long, green hair, slightly darker than Lemon Zest’s. Sour noticed that she wore a brown skirt, a yellow blouse and a hat rather than a Crystal Prep Academy uniform. How she was let in was anybody’s guess.
“I’m fine…” Sour Sweet turned the tap and drank some water from it. “Just watch out, I can puke or something. Who are you?”
“Sweet Leaf,” the girl replied. “I came here to pick up a friend, but I think she has some training or something. And of course, I got lost. Are you sure you’re fine?”
“Yes.” Sour Sweet’s stomach grumbled. “No.” She ran back to the toilet, throwing up the water she’d drank. “Screw that training…” she muttered, rolling back from the stall. “I’d better go to the nurse before I dehydrate completely.” She looked at Sweet Leaf. “The nurse’s office is close to the gym, so you can wait there for your friend.”
“Thanks.” Sweet Leaf helped Sour stagger out of the bathroom. They walked downstairs and headed for the gym. Sour caught a glimpse of her friends playing; the pitch was covered in snow, so they had to switch to indoor activities until the weather improved.
The visit in the nurse’s office was rather short. Sour decided not to tell the nurse about her pregnancy scare; after a conversation with Sunny, she found it rather silly herself. She got some meds and was told to go home and drink a lot of water. She was about to do so, when she saw Sweet Leaf sitting on a bench in the corridor next to the gym. For some reason, the girl looked familiar to her.
“So, what are you and your friend up to?” Sour asked. “Not many of us have friends from other schools.”
“We’re volunteering in the hospice,” Sweet Leaf replied.
“No way,” Sour muttered. “Sunny Flare is still there?”
“She was there, but it’s not her,” Sweet Leaf said, her smile faltering. “That’d be–” The door to the gym opened and the team walked out, chatting happily. Sour Sweet looked away from them and saw Sunny Flare who stopped in the middle of the door, causing several other girls to yell at her for blocking the path. Sour Sweet waved to her; Sunny, however didn’t wave back, muttering something under her breath.
“Oh, shitwaffle,” Sunny Flare muttered. She looked at Sour Sweet and at the girl next to her. Then she looked back to see if Lemon Zest was still helping Diwata Aino and Frosty Orange to gather all the balls after the training.
“What’s going on?” Indigo asked.
Sunny turned to her, frowning. “Can you kill me quickly?”
“Sure, why?” Indigo smirked.
“Because whatever happens, someone’s gonna rip my legs off and leave me to bleed out,” Sunny replied.
“And that wouldn’t be me?” Indigo raised her eyebrows. “What did you do?”
“Wait a minute.” Sunny pulled Indigo away and walked to Sour Sweet. “Are you better?” she asked, ostensibly ignoring Sweet Leaf. “Indigo said she’d drive you home. You can wait in her car till we take a shower.”
Indigo furrowed her eyebrows. “Wha–”
The look Sunny gave her immediately silenced her. “Yeah, you can go. Just don’t throw up on the upholstery, I had it cleaned recently. I’ll give you my keys.”
Sour said a quick ‘bye’ to Sweet Leaf and they walked away. Indigo gave her the keys and, when they were already in the changing room, walked to Sunny Flare.
“What was that about?” she asked.
“Showers,” Sunny replied. “Quick, before Fleur takes them over.”
“Suri is already there,” Indigo said.
Sunny sighed and shook her head. “Then you’ll get rid of her.”
Indigo groaned and pushed the door to the showers open. Two of the four showers were taken; however, instead of choosing one of the free ones, Indigo walked to Suri.
“Polomare, get the fuck out,” she muttered.
“Why?” Suri asked, looking at Indigo like she was something that got stuck in a toilet.
“Because I feel uncomfortable bathing with a crazy lesbo,” Indigo replied.
“How about her?” Suri pointed at Sunny. “Also, considering that you and your psychotic lesbo friend wanted to beat the crap out of me in the showers once, you’re the least convincing homophobe I know. Bothersome.”
“You know what bothers me?” Indigo walked to Suri and looked down at her. “Your face. Get out before I change it a bit.”
“Fine,” Suri muttered getting out of the shower. “Cunt.”
“Takes one to know one,” Indigo muttered before turning to Melon Mint, who was showering as far from them as possible, trying to look at them without actually staring. “You can stay.”
“Just don’t listen,” Sunny said.
“Now she’ll definitely listen.” Indigo turned the tap, pouring lukewarm water all over herself. “What was all that about?”
“Have you seen that girl next to Sour?” Sunny asked, leaning towards Indigo.
Indigo shrugged. “Looked like she wasn’t from here. Never seen her before.”
“I did,” Sunny replied. “It’s that idiot who works in the hospice and wants to go to Africa. And you’ve heard Lemon today.”
“I didn’t,” Indigo replied. “I can’t exactly run well with bruised ribs, so I was too busy humiliating Fleur with my free throws.”
“She went to that hospice and works there now, even though she doesn’t have to.” Sunny rolled her eyes. “That girl came here to get her and go there and now she’s hanging out with Sour.”
“How horrible,” Indigo deadpanned. “Are there dragons in this fairy tale?”
Sunny sighed. “For my friend, you’re sometimes dense. You totally don’t get the context.”
“Then provide it.” Indigo splashed some water on Sunny. “Illuminate me.”
Sunny nodded, unperturbed. “So, Lemon knows that girl, Sour knows that girl, but they probably don’t know each of them know her too, and you know how… unstable Sour can be as of late. Besides, I may have hacked that girl’s phone and now I own quite a few of her nudes. Some of them are pretty good.”
Indigo facepalmed. “And you wonder why people think you’re a carpet muncher.”
“Oh, come on,” Sunny muttered. “And if we assume that Sour Sweet hypothetically saw those photos…”
“She saw them, didn’t she?” Indigo groaned.
Sunny smiled in the most innocent way she could muster. “How did you know?”
“I know you for long enough to know you’re a slippery cunt,” Indigo replied.
“That’s the soap,” Sunny said, looking down at herself. “So, what do you think of it?”
Indigo looked at Melon Mint, who was busy not listening to them and standing under the shower with a confused expression. “It’s a clusterfuck,” she said.
“Indeed.” Sunny nodded. “And sooner or later someone may think punching me in the face is a good idea.”
“Wait, it isn’t?”
Sunny sighed and shook her head.
The gym was filled with people; Indigo didn’t know most of them, which was an usual thing in January. She’d already shown two of them how to use the equipment without harming themselves; now she was sitting in front of the mirror with a pair of dumbbells, lifting them slowly. Her biceps burned; with a sharp exhale, she put the weights on the floor.
“Just one more series, with heavier ones,” she muttered.
“You won’t be able to lift your hands tomorrow,” Bulk said. “Especially with a broken finger.”
“I know what I’m doing,” Indigo replied, looking at her injured finger. She couldn’t use it to grip the dumbbell and her other fingers were aching. “On a side note, I have to ask you a question.”
Bulk put down the barbell. “Yes?”
“What’s the name of a girl with dark-green hair and a hat who’s probably from Canterlot High and volunteers in the hospice?” Indigo asked. “Sunny didn’t seem to remember it.”
“You mean Sweet Leaf?” Bulk shrugged. “Sandalwood knows her better. She’s friends with Paisley from his band. And Starlight… You know Starlight, right?”
“Which one?” Indigo asked. “Starlight Glimmer – the cult leader, Starlight Glimmer – Sunset Shimmer’s friend Muffins had seen once, or that little one who tried to beat me?”
“The third of those,” Bulk replied. “She’s actually rather nice.”
“Not when Cloudy Kicks is around,” Indigo muttered, looking at her dumbbells. “Anyway, tell that Sweet Leaf to watch out for Sour Sweet.”
Bulk raised his eyebrows, looking at Indigo. “What did she do to Sour Sweet?”
“Nothing, but Sunny thinks the stuff may get ugly.” Indigo shrugged.
“And since when do you believe her?” Bulk turned back to the mirror and lifted the barbell.
Indigo grabbed the dumbbells and hissed, completing the first rep despite her muscles aching. “It’s kinda her fault, you know.”
“Of course…” Bulk smirked.
The small, electric car found its way through the snow-covered streets. Sweet Leaf looked at the dashboard and furrowed her eyebrows. “Let’s hope our battery doesn’t die in this weather.”
“Seems to be a thing for everyone.” Lemon looked through the window at someone who was trying unsuccessfully to start their car. “You’ll just run to the pharmacy, get those meds we ordered and go back. I’ll wait. If we turn the engine off, we may not turn it on again…”
“You just want me to get out in the cold while you stay inside, huh?” Sweet Leaf smirked.
“Kind of,” Lemon replied.
“Okay, then,” Sweet Leaf said. “Hmm, your girlfriend must’ve been worse than I thought.”
Lemon turned to her, shuddering. “Why do you think so?”
“When I said about you wanting me to get out of the car, you cowered as if you expected me to punch you,” Sweet Leaf replied, turning left on the intersection. “It’s not your dad. I’ve seen on Christmas that you’re more relaxed around him. You said you had a rough breakup recently, so I assume it was your girlfriend.”
“Yeah.” Lemon sighed. “Well, she isn’t bad, but she smacked me a few times. You know, on her bad days she doesn’t really care about what others think.”
Sweet Leaf nodded. “Guess she isn’t much better on her good days…”
“She’s fine,” Lemon replied. “She just has problems…” She looked outside. “Hey, I can see my house from here!”
“Problems. Surely.” Sweet Leaf parked next to a large pile of snow that could as well be someone’s unused car. “I’ll be right back.”
She got out of the car and walked to the pharmacy at the corner of the street. It was almost empty at this time of day. The only person who was there was no one else but Sour Sweet, who was just paying for the meds.
“Hello,” Sweet Leaf said, walking to her. “Feeling better?”
“Somewhat,” Sour Sweet replied. “I skipped school and now I’m curing myself.”
Sweet Leaf looked at the pills Sour Sweet just swept from the counter. “Prozac, Invega, Kaopectate…”
“There isn’t just one shit I have to deal with,” Sour Sweet muttered. “More like, a few of them.”
“I see.” Sweet Leaf replied. “You know, if you ever need some help… Like, we can drive you home.”
“No, thanks. I live on the other side of the street. Right now, I could use someone who knows how to entertain kids,” Sour Sweet said. “My brother and sister turn six soon and after the last year, no one in the family wants me to get dressed as a clown.” She shrugged. “I don’t know why.”
“I can give you Trixie’s number.” Sweet Leaf took her phone. “She does magic tricks and is good with kids.”
“Great.” Sour Sweet smiled. “Hmm, you may want to buy something…”
“Oh.” Sweet Leaf turned to the pharmacist, who was watching her, furrowing her eyebrows, and handed her a bunch of prescriptions and some papers. “Orders from the hospice.”
“You buy all those here?” Sour Sweet asked.
“No, just the ones we need, like, right now,” Sweet Leaf replied. “They trust me with that because they know I wouldn’t steal anything.”
“Ah, sure.” Sour Sweet nodded. “So, how about this Trixie?”
The bits of red onion hissed on the frying pan as vinegar was poured over them. The smell permeated the air. Soon, the fried onion was removed from the pan, replaced by slices of bacon. Muffins leaned to the stove and Flash barely managed to grab her before her apron caught fire.
“What is it gonna be?” Muffins asked. “Looks tasty.”
“Liver with bacon and onions,” Flash replied, poking his bacon with a wooden stirrer. “Want some later?”
Muffins winced. “I’m not really into liver. Though it still sounds kinda tasty, if only for the bacon.”
Flash looked around the classroom. The cooking classes had a small, but devoted group of followers; most of them were quite good, although Flash could easily see that Twilight, who had only recently joined them, struggled to prepare anything edible. He sighed and turned away from her.
“Wait, bacon?” Muffins smirked. “That’s it. You subconsciously want to eat Sunset Shimmer’s liver.”
Flash bursted in a brief laughter. “Actually, I made it for her on our first date,” he replied. “She really liked it, until she found out it was calf’s liver. After throwing up, she mentioned something about some of her friends being cows.”
“And you didn’t get she was a pony back then?” Muffins shrugged. “Also, I think it’s rude to talk with your girlfriend about your past dates, though I’m not much better in that matter. On my first date ever, the guy tried to carve our initials in a tree bark. Since then, they call him ‘Frodo’. He’s short, smokes weed, and even though they sewn his finger back, we thought it was a funny nickname...”
“Remind me not to carve anything anywhere,” Flash muttered. “Same with padlocks on a bridge. And as for Sunset, I thought she was some runaway Hare Krishna back then.”
“Nah, they’re usually nice.” Muffins watched as Flash put the seasoned slices of liver on the frying pan.
“That’s why she was a runaway one.” Flash shrugged. “Besides, she’s kinda nice, after all.”
Muffins chuckled. “I’m not sure if I want to listen to this…”
Flash shuddered. “Muffins?”
“Yeah?”
“Your potatoes are boiling over,” Flash replied, pointing at the pot standing on the stove next to his.
Muffins cursed under her breath, rushing to save the potatoes.
The cooking classes were usually just before the lunch; many students who attended them treated that as an occasion to test their recipes on their friends. Several of them found out it was a quick way to lose them, but that wasn’t the case with Flash.
“Hmm, this isn’t bad,” Bulk muttered, setting the plate aside. “What was that, again?”
“Liver with bacon and onions,” Flash said. He hadn’t finished his portion yet, but he was close. Next to him, Muffins burped, blushing and covering her mouth.
“Nice,” Bulk said. “Too bad I can only cook chicken with rice.”
Sandalwood sighed. “Has anyone here ever cooked anything vegan?”
“You just ate spinach with mashed potatoes Muffins made,” Bulk said.
“They had butter in them,” Sandalwood muttered. “That doesn’t count as vegan.”
“You should’ve seen what I did to the potatoes,” Muffins said. “Besides, you still ate them.”
Sandalwood smirked. “I wouldn’t be a rebel if I didn’t. You know, if water was illegal–”
“Yeah, sure.” Bulk chuckled. “You were just hungry.”
“Okay, I kinda was,” Sandalwood muttered. “Besides, Sugarcoat still tries to sneak meat in my food. But when I dared her to eat bacon, she did. And asked for more. Turns out, she’s not religious.”
“Well, when have you seen somebody religious recently?” Flash asked. “I haven’t, in a while.”
“Sophisticata is religious.” Sandalwood shrugged. “She follows all the religions. Including that one cult she wanted me to join when she wanted my father to give her a role. Dude, that was sick.”
Muffins chuckled. “Hope she tries that on Sunny…”
“Getting a role by summoning Satan with the director’s daughter,” Sandalwood muttered. “Better than sex, I guess. Also, my dad doesn’t give roles to people I recommend. After that fiasco with cousin Juniper, he doesn’t trust the family.”
“Makes sense,” Bulk said. “I wouldn’t trust Featherweight with actresses. He tried to pick up Ruby, once.”
“How’s that little bundle of hate?” Sandalwood asked.
“As usual.” Bulk shrugged. “She isn’t much of a talker and I never really felt like listening.”
“Hmm…” Muffins scratched her head. “Nowadays, summoning Satan would probably work, with all that magic…”
“Now I know what I’ll be doing with cousin Juniper when she comes back here from Kobe,” Sandalwood muttered. “What do you do, draw a circle on the ground or what?”
“Back in elementary school, I whispered ‘Murderous Fabric’ into the mirror three times at midnight,” Muffins said.
Flash finished his meal and turned to her. “Did it appear?”
“No, but I was so afraid of it that I wet the bed,” Muffins replied. “Since then, I don’t try to whisper anything in the mirror.”
“Hmm, this could be the theme of our next party,” Sandalwood muttered.
“Wetting the bed?” Bulk asked. “I’ll pass then.”
“No, I mean summoning something supernatural,” Sandalwood replied. “We’ll help Flash cook something and spend the rest of the night pigging out and summoning ghosts. I can provide interesting company of my cousin, who’ll be back in town next week. Alternatively, we can invite everyone we know that ever turned into a demon.”
Flash sighed. “Twilight will probably want to bring Timber. We’d have to invite Gloriosa too, after all.”
Muffins smirked. “On the other hand, it may be the only occasion to poison them. You do the cooking, after all.”
Flash’s jaw dropped. “Them? Why’d I poison Twilight?”
“So no one would suspect you. You like her, after all.” Muffins shrugged. “Theoretically speaking.”
“And of course, no one cares about the guy being poisoned,” Sandalwood muttered. “So much for equality.”
“Watch out.” Bulk chuckled. “If Muffins goes on a killing spree, you may be next.”
Sandalwood shrugged, smirking. “I dodged all of Sugarcoat’s assassination attempts. You all don’t stand a chance.”
“Okay then…” Muffins cracked her fingers.
A week later, the snow covering the town started to slowly melt. Due to the fact that the architects and constructors responsible for building the Flash Drive’s rehearsal hall had ended up cutting some corners, the whole place immediately got flooded. Luckily, after a break-in a two years back, the band never kept their equipment there, but the rehearsal had to be called off while Flash and Brawly Beats tried to get rid of the water using a mop, a bucket, and a snow shovel.
“Maybe you’d help?” Flash turned to Ringo, who stood on one of the dry patches of the uneven floor.
“I don’t want to get sick,” Ringo replied. “Who’d sing backing vocals if I had sore throat?”
Flash muttered something rude about Ringo’s mother and grabbed the bucket full of dirty water. For a moment he fought the temptation to pour it on the bassist, but eventually he went to the door and spilled the water on the pavement.
“So, that’s what you meant when you said you were going for a watery sound?”
Flash raised his head and saw Sunset Shimmer standing in front of him. “Hi,” he said. “What’s up?”
“Bad news for your little ghost-summoning party,” Sunset replied. “Twilight has some kind of a family meeting and she can’t come.”
“Damn.” Flash sighed. The whole party was plagued with trouble since its inception. Sour Sweet bailed out immediately because of two of her numerous siblings’s birthday. So did Sunny and Lemon – the former to ‘resist the temptation to have a drink while her parents try to settle things’ and the latter because, as Indigo stated, “fuck me if I know”.
Flash silently thanked whatever gods ruled his life for that. With Muffins and Lemon in one room, every party got weird quickly and it usually ended with Lemon passing out somewhere. As for Sunny… Flash met a lot of cute, troubled girls in his life. Some of them, as Muffins kept reminding him, were horses. But whenever he thought of Sunny, the second thing coming to his mind was a ten-foot pole.
“On the other hand, I’m still available,” Sunset said. “That is, if you don’t want to just make it a triple date.”
“No, you can come,” Flash muttered. “I mean, Sandalwood’s cousin is coming too. Do you know her? Juniper Montage or something.”
“Somewhat,” Sunset replied. “Just keep her away from the mirrors.”
“Muffins will take care of that, I’m sure…” Flash chuckled.
“How’s she?” Sunset asked. “I never had time to congratulate you two…”
“Well, it’s kinda like playing chess,” Flash replied. “You think you predicted all the opponent’s moves, but then it suddenly turns out you’re playing gin rummy.”
“I know that feeling.” Sunset smiled. “So, where are we going? Your house, Sandalwood’s den, or–”
“Sandalwood’s,” Flash replied. “He has a big kitchen and his father is shooting a movie on location in Australia. While his mother saves the coral reef, no less.”
“Sounds cool,” Sunset said. “So, Friday evening?”
“How come they have so many friends?” Sour Sweet asked. She was lurking in the shadows somewhere behind a ball pit in the family entertainment centre and wanted to spend the whole party in there. Her plans were quickly busted when the magician Sweet Leaf had found for her chose her to volunteer to be sawn in half.
Sour Sweet had to admit that Trixie was good. Not even the biggest smartasses in the audience noticed that the legs poking out of the box actually belonged to Sweeten Sour, cleverly hidden inside. Sour Sweet managed not to have a panic attack, but after being put back together and released from the box, she quickly retreated to her hideout behind the ball pit.
“I mean, did they invite half of the kindergarten, or what?” Sour shrugged. “All those sweet little kids, yelling like baboons…” She rubbed her temples. “Great. Now I’m gonna have a headache. And I was just wondering how to put Sweeten Sour in that box again, this time without the second person…”
“Are you okay?” Sweet Leaf asked. She was half-lying on the floor, resting against the ball pit’s side.
“Y-yeah.” Sour Sweet smirked. “Loud noises are a bitch.”
“Mhm.” Sweet Leaf opened her handbag and grabbed a package with earplugs. “I always carry a few spare ones.”
“Thanks…” Sour Sweet blushed; she put the earplugs on and lay down next to Sweet Leaf.
“Do you think they’ll let us dive into that ball pit after the party’s over?”
Sour Sweet poked her ear, sure she misheard something. “I’d rather not,” she muttered. “Kids sit in there. And I’m pretty sure some of them didn’t make it to the toilet when Trixie did that escape trick that got everyone laughing.”
“Oh.” Sweet Leaf winced. “You don’t like kids much, do you?”
“More like, I’m done being sick.” Sour Sweet sighed. “When Sweet Dreams and Sour Grapes got chickenpox, it turned out I haven’t had it before. And that wasn’t my first visit in the ER either.”
Sweet Leaf nodded and hugged Sour Sweet. “My poor little sick girl…”
Juniper Montage wiped her nose. The long flight and the fact that Kobe was slightly warmer than Canterlot City left her with a jet lag and a bad cold. She briefly considered staying at home, but then she recalled that the only home she knew in the town was her uncle’s, and the alternative was sitting in a hotel, sick and alone. Besides, Sandalwood promised her some good food. Juniper was ready to withstand any amount of jokes about avian flu and SARS just to eat anything that wasn’t popcorn or airplane food.
Hardly did she expect that after arriving from the airport in Sandalwood’s battered van, she’d be seated on the couch with some bespectacled girl with intricate hairstyle who apparently was Sandalwood’s current girlfriend. Juniper couldn’t believe it at first, but after a while, it made perfect sense to her.
“So, you once grew a few feet and started to trash the shopping mall, right?” the girl asked. Juniper was sure her name was Sugarcoat; this knowledge, however, didn’t change the fact that Juniper, having spent a large part of her life in Japan, was used to slightly less direct approach to communication.
“I kinda did,” Juniper muttered. “That’s not something I feel comfortable talking about…”
“But you can use magic!” Sugarcoat exclaimed. “I mean, I tried magic once. Or twice. On my rats. Never really worked, but if we could work on it together…”
“Rats?” Juniper chuckled sheepishly. “Nice to see you and Sandalwood have something in common…”
“Oh, totally,” Sugarcoat replied. “That’s not the only thing we have in common, though. Except he doesn’t want to learn magic because he thinks it sucks. So, if you could–”
Just when Juniper thought it couldn’t get any worse, another girl jumped on the couch on the other side of her. This one was cross-eyed and had long, blonde hair. She was holding a rat on her hand – Chong, if Juniper recalled correctly. “Isn’t he cute?” the girl cooed.
Juniper recalled the well-known fact that Daring Do hated snakes. Unlike her, Juniper was fine with them. At least they ate rodents. Juniper was afraid of them and a rat being held a few inches from her face caused her to press her back against the couch.
“He’s very… cute,” she muttered. “Can you, like, go away?” She shuddered. “Please…”
Chong, being a rat, probably didn’t understand the girl in front of him. Nevertheless, her hair looked much more interesting that the hand of the girl who’d just caught him in the kitchen. He sniffed, preparing for a jump.
Sunset Shimmer raised her head, hearing the scream from the living room. “Should I check on them?”
Sandalwood shrugged. “Nah, I’m pretty sure they’re fine.” He turned to Flash, who was in the middle of cutting mushrooms. “What is it?”
Flash shrugged. “After gathering intel on who’s vegan, vegetarian, and allergic to peanuts, I decided that the most satisfying choice will be a vegan shepherd’s pie. Indigo, would you kindly get off the countertop and help me chop the paprika?”
Indigo sighed – in the middle of Sandalwood’s kitchen there was an island the size of Great Britain she’d found to be the most comfortable place to sit on. Now she jumped on the floor and grabbed a knife. “If I cut off my finger, will it still be vegan?”
“I don’t think so,” Bulk replied. “Also, we can introduce you to Muffins’ first boyfriend. They call him Frodo.”
“Why?” Sunset Shimmer asked amidst the laughter of the rest of her friends.
“Because he’s short, smokes weed, and nearly lost a finger,” Flash muttered, putting the mushrooms in the casserole dish.
“I still don’t get it,” Sunset said. “Is that some 1990s TV show reference?”
Indigo raised her eyebrows. “You’ve never heard of Lord of the Rings?”
Sunset chuckled. “Well, I kinda lived in a remote area…”
“That is, a magical pony kingdom where they don’t have cable,” Sandalwood muttered. “Though they do have dragons.”
“Thanks, Sandalwood,” Sunset deadpanned as Indigo opened her mouth and raised her finger. “I keep forgetting there are people in this town who never heard about it.”
“So that’s what Sugarcoat meant when she said Flash fucked horses!” Indigo exclaimed, laughing. “Does it even work the same, you know…”
“She said that?” Flash flipped a knife in his hand. “Sugarcoat!”
“Hey, don’t turn my kitchen into a crime scene.” Sandalwood ran to Flash. “Also, what’s the problem? It’s not like Sunset didn’t pony up in that music video of yours.”
“I honestly thought it was cheap CGI,” Indigo muttered. “Girls either didn’t notice or they forgot to tell me.”
“Or they thought that it’s nothing compared to interdimensional rifts.” Sunset shrugged. “In my book, not even vines could beat that.”
“Hmm, many things in your world seem to have vines…” Indigo muttered. “I learned about it first-hand.”
Sunset blushed, but before she could reply, Sugarcoat walked into the kitchen. “Did someone call me?”
“I did,” Flash replied. “Would you refrain from telling everyone that I fuck horses?”
“You don’t help your case by wording it like that,” Sugarcoat muttered. “Also, Sandalwood, we broke your cousin. Or rather, your rat did.”
“Where’s she?” Sandalwood asked.
“She locked herself in the attic,” Sugarcoat replied. “Muffins tries to reason with her… Though, to think about it, ‘there are surely more rats in there' probably won’t calm her down.”
“I’ll go there,” Sandalwood said. “Though I’m not sure if I have a spare key.”
Bulk stood up. “I’ll go with you. I don’t need a key.”
Eventually, the rescue team sent to get Juniper consisted of Sandalwood, Bulk, and Indigo. They climbed up the old, narrow, and creaky stairs. There were almost no lights in there – Sandalwood explained that they barely used the attic, crammed to the ceiling with stuff belonging to Sandalwood’s deceased grandma. Indigo hoped the grandma herself wasn’t included.
When they reached the top of the stairs, it turned out the door was slightly ajar. Muffins, however, was nowhere to be found.
“Muffins?” Bulk asked. “Juniper?”
“You can come out,” Sandalwood said. “There are no rats in here, just us.”
“You know?” Indigo smiled sheepishly. “In horror movies, the blonde dies first.”
“Shut up, Indigo.” Sandalwood pushed the door open. “I’m pretty sure they’re–” He paused, realising what was in front of him.
The only source of light was the pale moonlight coming through a small window. The attic was full of coffers, cases, and old wardrobes, filled with old books, clothes, and devices the purpose of which they could only guess. In the middle of the room, in a puddle of some dark liquid, lay a motionless body with long, blonde hair scattered on the floor.
Above it, there stood a tall, thin woman in a white, old-fashioned lace wedding dress, covered in dust and cobwebs. She was staring at the moon, seemingly unaware of their presence. Sandalwood hid behind Indigo, which wasn’t easy, given that she was about a foot shorter. She immediately smacked him, muttering something nasty.
The tall woman in white slowly turned to them; most of her face was covered by a large hat, but they could see her smile, showing every single one of her teeth.
“Hello there,” she whispered.
The party was over. All the parents took their respective kids home, leaving Sour Sweet and Sweet Leaf almost alone by the family entertainment centre – the only other people were Sour Sweet’s parents and siblings, trying to put Sweet Dreams in her safety seat. Sour Sweet couldn’t blame her sister – she wasn’t a fan of her mother’s driving, herself.
“So, that was a great party, wasn’t it?” Sweet Leaf smiled, walking through the half-melted snow to her car.
Sour Sweet shrugged. “If you like parties for kids… Though you saved my life with that magician. For once, my parents are not mad at me after a family meeting.”
“Yeah.” Sweet Leaf smiled at Sour Sweet. “Although I wonder why your parents kept giving me weird looks.”
Sour blushed. “Well, I may have chosen the wrong moment to tell them that I’m bisexual. You know, in the middle of Christmas and so on…” She turned to Sweet Leaf and looked at her, smiling sheepishly. “Also, you kinda look like my ex, so…”
“Oh.” Sweet Leaf muttered. “I mean… Did they think that we...”
“I don’t know,” Sour Sweet said. “Do we?”
Sweet Leaf raised her eyebrows. “Do we what?” She backpedalled, seeing Sour’s expression. “I mean… I think it’s way too early and–”
“Don’t bother yourself with that.” Sour Sweet sighed. “I’m not looking for anyone right now either. It’s still a fresh thing,” she muttered. “My ex, that is. Ungrateful, little–” She cleared her throat. “I’d better go.”
Sweet Leaf watched as Sour Sweet turned back and rushed to her parents’ car, a bit faster than it was necessary. For a moment she thought about following her, but then she shrugged and went to her car. She sat inside, thinking of Sour Sweet. When she turned the engine on and drove home, her thoughts drifted away to the school and the hospice. This suddenly led her to a thought of Lemon Zest.
Sweet Leaf sighed, banging her fingers against the steering wheel. “Damn you, sweet, lost Crystal Prep girls…”
“I must admit…” Muffins chuckled. “That wasn’t my best idea…”
Her clothes were stained with some dark red liquid which, upon closer inspection, turned out to be blackcurrant wine. Bulk and Sandalwood were glaring at her askew; Sandalwood was sitting on the couch, looking at a large bruise on his arm. Next to him, Juniper was covering her face in a bloodied tissue; she still wore a dirty, old-fashioned dress.
“Well, that did get out of hand,” Bulk said eventually.
“Out of hand?” Sandalwood muttered. “You were running away so fast you pushed me down the stairs, you beefcake. And you…” He turned to Indigo, who was standing next to Muffins, with a matching sheepish grin on her face.
“What?” Indigo asked.
“When normal people see a ghost who just murdered someone, they run,” Sandalwood said.
“So? I ran.” Indigo shrugged.
“Run away, not charge at the ghost to headbutt them while yelling like a baboon!” Sandalwood exclaimed. “Besides, headbutts don’t work on ghosts.”
“This one worked.” Indigo pointed at Juniper, whose nose kept bleeding profusely. “Also, she should be happy I have a broken finger or else we’d be looking for her teeth in the attic now.”
Juniper looked at the tissue and winced. “But admit that I was pretty convincing as a ghost,” she muttered.
“Well, running around in my late grandma’s dress aside,” Sandalwood said. “I didn’t exactly have time to watch before Bulk rammed me. Whose idea was that, anyway?”
“Mine, after I accidentally broke that old flask,” Muffins replied. “But pretending to be a ghost was her idea.”
Sandalwood shook his head, but before he could comment on that, Sugarcoat walked out of the kitchen.
“If you’re done busting ghosts, the supper is ready,” she said, looking at their injuries with a condescending smirk.
As it was to be expected, the atmosphere at the table was rather tense. Sunset’s stare kept wandering from quiet Juniper, to Bulk and Sandalwood who were ostensibly avoiding looking at each other. Next to her, Flash was just munching on his shepherd’s pie. Only Muffins didn’t seem to care, smiling at Sugarcoat, who met her exuberance with a cold, Sphinx-like stare.
“It’s pretty tasty, you know?” Sunset jammed a fork into her pie. Everybody glared at her.
“You’re trying to get us to talk to each other, aren’t you?” Sugarcoat asked.
“It’s better than what’s going on now,” Sunset replied, staring at Indigo.
“So…” Indigo turned to Juniper. “I’m sorry for hitting you…”
“It’s fine,” Juniper said. “That was a dumb idea.”
“Hey!” Muffins exclaimed.
“Chill out, Muffins,” Flash muttered. “Same goes for you two.”
Bulk sighed. “I’m sorry, Sandalwood.”
“Same.” Sandalwood rolled his eyes. “So, can we go back to the usual themes, such as movies, memes, dead baby jokes, and how hot my cousin is?”
“Shut up, Sandalwood.” Juniper blushed.
“Exactly,” Sugarcoat said. “The fact that Flash keeps following Sunset with his gaze despite being with Muffins doesn’t mean that you can do the same.”
“Now you started shit…” Indigo’s voice quickly drowned in the sound of chairs being moved back, coupled with at least one “what?”. She grabbed the fork and started to eat faster, just in case someone flipped the table.
Sugarcoat only smiled and leaned back in her seat.
Sunny Flare rolled out of her bed and landed on the floor. She opened her eyes and looked at one of the three screens of her wrist devices she could see. It was Saturday, three o’clock. After a while, Sunny determined that it was three PM.
A look in the mirror revealed that she was still wearing her school uniform. Dirty and torn, it couldn’t be saved; she threw it out right after switching for her pajamas.
She tried to recall what exactly happened. Her parents were getting divorced, though she wasn’t sure of any details. She remembered running away from the court during one of the breaks and spent some time wondering where she could get alcohol, while simultaneously reminding herself that she was supposed to stop drinking it. Judging from her state, she’d lost that fight.
After a while, when Sunny pulled herself back into the bed, she remembered that, in fact, she didn’t drink after all. This didn’t make her any happier, though. She recalled that, cold and angry, she finally got back home and locked herself in her inspiration room. From the bottom of her closet, she took a bottle with several pills. The girl who’d given them to her in the club instructed her to take five to have a trip of her life.
Sunny checked out the bottle and found out that she only took two, resulting in sleeping for twenty hours and dreams she wished she hadn’t remembered. Some of them probably weren’t dreams; she recalled waking up in the middle of the night, gasping for air while her diaphragm didn’t seem to work properly.
Still trembling in the afterglow, made worse by dehydration and hunger, she started to wonder what’d happen if she took five pills. Perhaps the trip of her life wouldn’t be the best, but most definitely the last.
Her legs didn’t exactly want to listen to her, but she forced herself out of the bed anyway. She began to wonder why, after sleeping for twenty hours in the locked room, paramedics hadn’t busted through her door yet. Sunny’s mother had some problems, but she’d notice her disappearance, sooner or later.
The creak of the opened door nearly caused Sunny’s head to explode. Hissing in pain, she sneaked past the corridor and went downstairs, barely making her way to the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of water and dropped on the chair, breathing laboriously.
One of the lights on her wrist device kept blinking. Sunny furrowed her eyebrows, nearly hearing the dry skin on her forehead breaking. She tapped the screen and saw that she had gotten two messages. The first one, from Friday evening was from Indigo.
sugarcoat and sandalwood are havin an argument lol flash and muffins too pass me popcorn
Sunny groaned, trying to break through layers of Indigo’s unexplained prejudice against commas and capital letters. She decided that details could wait until she was in a better shape and opened the second message, sent on Saturday, few minutes after ten.
Hello. Can we talk somewhere in private? It’s urgent. ~Suri.
“Blow me, cunt sponge,” Sunny whispered. “Talk? Why talk when you have phones and social media?”
Even with autocorrect, it took her a while to type a slightly more diplomatic version of this uttering and send it to Suri. She didn’t have to wait long for the reply.
I don’t trust electronics. Too many people watching. ~Suri.
Sunny rolled her eyes and, without any attempts at diplomacy this time, she advised Suri to go and try to improve her sex life by using waffles. Just like she hoped, Suri didn’t reply to that. Proud of herself, Sunny finished her glass of water and got up to look for her mother.
It didn’t take her long to find her. As it turned out, Lens Flare was spending her time in her bedroom, lying in the bed with a bottle of wine. Not the first one, as Sunny noted.
“Are you drinking since yesterday?” she asked.
“No…” Sunny’s mother hiccuped, trying to focus her gaze on her daughter. “I slept for a while.”
“Dammit, mom,” Sunny muttered. “You need to get out of here.”
“Why?” Sunny’s mother asked. “He left and wants to take you away…”
“Fat chance,” Sunny replied. “I’m an adult.”
“He says I have a bad influence on you.” Sunny’s mother shuddered. “And that I should go to the rehab.”
“You’re not helping your case right now,” Sunny deadpanned.
Sunny’s mother raised on her bed, aiming a half-empty wine bottle at Sunny. “Are… Are you agreeing with him?”
“He’s a wanker whom I only see, like, once a year,” Sunny muttered. “But I realised I could’ve died tonight and you’d never notice. That was an eye-opening experience…”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Sunny’s mother asked.
Sunny sighed, turning away and closing the bedroom door. “I wish I knew…”
Sweeten Sour swung the baton around her body. She closed her eyes, focusing on the marching band song coming from her phone, connected to a speaker. She turned around, finishing the routine and looked at Sour Sweet, who was lying on her bed, reading something.
“How was it?” Sweeten Sour asked.
“Do I look like I care?” Sour Sweet shrugged. “I don’t know if you noticed, but I don’t know anything about majorettes, marching bands, and all that stuff. So I can’t exactly tell whether it was good or bad.”
Sweeten Sour sighed. “I don’t know anything about archery, but I know you’re good.”
“That’s because in archery you immediately know who has better aim,” Sour Sweet muttered. “The one that hits the middle more often.”
Sweeten Sour furrowed her eyebrows, but before she could reply, she heard a doorbell ringing. She swung in place, facing the door of their room. “I’ll be right back,” she said.
She walked to the door and opened it. Behind it stood Sunny Flare. She was wearing a rather plain jacket and tracksuit trousers; she didn’t have any make-up and her hair, hidden under a really bizarre Scottish cap could use some combing. She also carried a large backpack.
“Sour?” she asked. “What did you do with your hair?”
“That’d be my sister,” Sweeten Sour muttered. “Sour! It’s your friend!”
“What?” Sour Sweet bursted out of their room, but stopped when she saw Sunny. “You. What are you doing here?”
“Same thing you did after Christmas,” Sunny replied. “I need to crash somewhere for a while and since you always end up in my house, I thought–”
Sour Sweet shook her head. “I have four siblings. This flat is big, but not that big. I’m almost nineteen and I have to share the room with my sister.” She pointed at Sweeten Sour, who smiled at Sunny. “Do you know what that means?”
“Yes… No!” Sour Sweet exclaimed. “We have no spare beds, you can’t find a place to sit in peace with no one bothering you, and my sister wails all nights because she has nightmares!”
“Not me,” Sweeten Sour muttered when Sunny looked at her. “Sweet Dreams. Sour Grapes has no such problems.”
“Then what should I do?” Sunny asked. “I’m not going back home.”
“So, you consider it a statement?” Sweeten Sour smiled at Sunny. “Sour does that too.”
Sunny sighed. “Well, my second idea was finding some tall bridge–”
“There are no bridges in this town,” Sweeten Sour informed. “Unless you count the river as a part of the town, but it’s more, like, the river surrounds it.”
“Sweeten, if you say one more word, I’m gonna break your hand.” Sour Sweet walked to her sister and patted her arm before turning to Sunny. “Two floors down there lives a girl you may know. Lemon Zest. Rings a bell?”
“Well–” Sunny raised her hand, but at the same time Sour Sweet closed the door. Sunny considered knocking again, but a muffled hiss of pain she heard from the other side convinced her that it wouldn’t be a good idea. She sighed and walked downstairs slowly.
“Carpet-munching lunatic,” she muttered under her breath. “Come to me one more time, you mongoloid fucktard, I’ll lend you a room… in the loony bin, complete with a free straitjacket…”
Cursing and tripping on the stairs, she reached the door of Lemon Zest’s flat and knocked much harder than she intended. After a while of waiting, when she was about to leave and try to reach Sugarcoat’s house, the door opened.
“Hello,” Lemon’s father said, looking at Sunny’s backpack. “Going for a trip at this time?”
“Nah, I need to talk with Lemon,” Sunny replied.
“She has a friend over.” Lemon’s father smirked. “Are you planning some surprise sleepover or what?”
“Maybe,” Sunny muttered and walked into the flat, heading to Lemon’s room. She began to wonder who could be visiting Lemon on that cold Saturday afternoon. It’d be nice to hear advice from someone reasonable like Sugarcoat, although Sunny wouldn’t mind even if it was Indigo. Or…
“Sweet Leaf.” Sunny entered Lemon’s room and faced the girl sitting on the floor next to Lemon’s bed. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“We were just chilling out after spending the morning in the hospice,” Lemon Zest replied. She was lying on her bed, her head hanging from it in such a way that she was seeing Sunny upside down. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, of course,” Sunny muttered. “If you don’t count the fact that my parents are divorcing, my mother is currently drunk out of her mind, I nearly overdosed on some shit, I don’t want to stay at home with my mother because I feel like I’m gonna try it again, and…” She sighed and collapsed on the floor, sobbing.
“Oh.” Sweet Leaf walked to Sunny and tried to hug her, only to be pushed away.
“That’s all you have to say?!” Sunny exclaimed. “My life collapsed and all you say is ‘oh’? You say it so often you probably don’t even mean it, you–”
“Sunny…” Lemon Zest grabbed Sunny’s hand. “Look at me, Sunny…”
Sunny lowered her head, crying. Lemon hugged her, looking at Sweet Leaf who froze in place, staring at them. After a brief exchange of stares she backed off slightly, waiting for Sunny to calm down.
Lemon helped Sunny up and walked with her to the bed, sitting there with her and letting her weep in her arm. Meanwhile, Sweet Leaf started to circle around the room, lost in her thoughts.
Suddenly, she stopped. “We need to stage an intervention,” she said. “Like, I know how to do that and we can drive to your mother right now–”
“Go fuck yourself,” Sunny muttered.
“Sweet Leaf is right,” Lemon said. “You can’t just run away while she’s drinking there…”
“Said someone who ended up sitting in a closet after her mother’s death…” Sunny replied.
“That’s not important at the moment.” Sweet Leaf stood over Sunny. “Come on, we’re going. You’re her daughter, you’ll do the talking.”
Sunny crossed her arms. “I’m not going!”
The small, electric car rolled down the street. Sunny sat in the backseat, staring at the window but barely paying attention to what was behind it. She just hoped something would happen that’d prevent them from getting to her house. The car rolling under a truck would be perfect – it was so small that the crash would kill them all immediately, without the horrible possibility of any of them ending up in a coma.
“I don’t even know what to say,” Sunny muttered. “I mean, if she didn’t even care that I could’ve died, what will make her care?”
“She’s drunk and going through a difficult time, from what you’re saying,” Sweet Leaf replied. “Just tell her what you feel when you see her drunk.”
“When I see her drunk, I usually drink with her, smartass,” Sunny said. “This time I didn’t and now I sit in the car with you two.”
“Maybe we should call your father?” Lemon asked.
“That’d only make things worse.” Sunny sighed. “Mom would be in a rehab and you’d never see me again.”
“Okay…” Sweet Leaf muttered. “Anyone else?”
“Everybody lives on the other side of the country,” Sunny replied.
“Except of Cinch,” Lemon said. “Didn’t you say she’s your maternal grandma’s second cousin or something?”
“Hmm, any relative would be fine,” Sweet Leaf muttered.
She couldn’t have switched tyres to winter ones, Sunny thought. If she braked hard, we could skid to a halt standing across the other lane, maybe even lying on the roof. An 18-wheeler would t-bone us and we’d finish this conversation on the tables in that place where they make corpses look nice before the funeral.
“You seriously want Cinch to stage an intervention with us?” Sunny asked. “Now that’d be something worth seeing.”
“You think so?” Sweet Leaf asked.
“No. That’s insane.” Sunny sighed. “Where have you been during the Friendship Games?”
“Well, I’m not really into competition,” Sweet Leaf replied. “Haven’t been paying attention that much.”
“So you missed that bit when we almost caused the apocalypse because of Cinch?” Sunny asked. “She’s most definitely not the best person to help us.”
Sweet Leaf nodded, driving into a narrow street leading to Sunny’s district. It didn't take long before they stopped in front of Sunny’s house.
“I still don’t know what to say,” Sunny said as they walked across the garden.
“Just be yourself,” Lemon replied.
“Bad idea.” Sunny unlocked the door. “Mom?”
Nobody replied. They walked around the house, but Sunny’s mother was nowhere to be found. Sunny tried to call her, only to find her phone abandoned in the bathroom. She also found her pajamas there; some of the clothes were missing, as well as her shoes.
“Maybe she’s looking for you,” Lemon said when they met back in the living room.
“In her state?” Sunny shook her head. “I may as well start looking on tabloids’ websites.”
“You’d better call your dad,” Sweet Leaf said. “He should know.”
After a brief moment of consideration, Sunny sighed. “Okay.” She tapped the screen of her wrist device. “Dad?” she muttered. “Mom’s gone… Normally, she was drinking all day, I left home and when I got back, she wasn’t there. Yeah, I’m home now… No, with Lemon. I tried to stage an intervention. Okay.”
“What’s up?” Lemon asked.
“He’ll be here soon,” Sunny replied. “Get outside and see if he’s coming.”
“Okay.” Lemon stood up from the couch and left the living room.
“You stay,” Sunny whispered when Sweet Leaf got up.
Sweet Leaf sat back down. “You want to tell me something?”
For a while, Sunny considered the possibilities. “What’s between you and Lemon?” she asked, carefully weighing each word.
Sweet Leaf raised her eyebrows. “We’re friends. That’s it. Why are you asking?”
“Watch out. Lemon falls in love faster than I’m fucking up my life.” Sunny sat next to Sweet Leaf and yanked her hair. “Especially with girls who look like her mother.”
“Oh.” Sweet Leaf shuddered. “Do you think–”
“What I think isn’t important,” Sunny said. “How about Sour Sweet?”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Sunny rolled her eyes and looked at the door. “Did you tell Lemon about Sour?”
Sweet Leaf scratched her head. “No, I don’t think so. Should I? If she really fell in love with me, I’d better not give her high hopes. But then...”
Sunny froze. “No, you most definitely shouldn’t ever mention Sour Sweet in Lemon’s presence.”
“Why?”
Because with Sour and Lemon shit will sooner or later hit the fan, and I’ll be in the middle of it, Sunny thought. “Did Lemon ever mention her weird ex-girlfriend?”
“She may have,” Sweet Leaf muttered. “How do you–”
“Well, that’d be Sour,” Sunny said. “Don’t look at me like that. You really wouldn’t like angry Sour.”
“Why are you telling me that?” Sweet Leaf asked. “I talked to Sour a few times and she seems fine.”
“And I know her since kindergarten. You’re right. She seems fine.” Sunny sighed. “The fact is, Sour and Lemon were together, and you know what Lemon thinks about Sour. Make of that what you will.”
“I’ll talk with them both,” Sweet Leaf said.
“You’ll get us both killed…” Sunny whispered.
“Excuse me?”
Before Sunny could repeat her remark louder, the door opened and Lemon Zest walked in, followed by Sunny’s father, who seemed unusually quiet. “I called the police and the hospital. They’re looking for her,” he said. “I’m going to search for her too.”
Sunny nodded, shuddering. “I’ll go with you.”
“Me too.” Lemon looked at Sweet Leaf, who seemed lost in her thoughts. “How about you?”
Sweet Leaf shrugged. “I have to go,” she replied, throwing a brief glance at Sunny. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
When on Monday morning Indigo reached the school, Sugarcoat was already there. She was sitting by the wall, staring at something in front of her. Indigo approached her and patted her back.
“What’s up?” she asked. “Still salty about Sandalwood calling you a control freak?”
“Nah, this wanker will eat his words, sooner or later.” Sugarcoat smirked. “I keep reliving the moment when Muffins lashed out on Flash…”
“That was a dick move,” Indigo muttered. “I mean, implying that he’s still in love with Sunset.”
Sugarcoat shrugged. “Well, remember that they became a couple because she wrestled him to the ground. And while he probably didn’t mean to stare at other girls, he kept doing that. I mean, what guy keeps forgetting that he’s in a relationship three weeks after this happened? And she clearly preferred not to notice. By pointing it out now, I saved her a lot of trouble later.”
“No wonder Sandalwood will come back to you,” Indigo said. “You two are clearly from the same planet.”
“See?” Sugarcoat nodded and smiled proudly. “Muffins will thank me…”
Indigo smirked. “Yeah, I talked with her yesterday. She really appreciates that.”
Muffins slid the hand plane down the board, sending wood shavings around. Indigo watched it from a safe distance while Bulk was nailing the boards to the skeleton of the boat.
“See?” Indigo asked. “Hard work makes you forget about bad stuff…”
Muffins looked at the hand plane. “Can I use it to peel skin off Sugarcoat’s skull?”
“That’s not the intended use,” Bulk said. “And it’d be hard to clean the blood. But if you want, I can lend you an angle grinder. You can start with the legs…”
“Or maybe I’ll just shave her…” Muffins turned to Indigo. “She’s proud of her hair, isn’t she?”
“Heads would roll.” Indigo shrugged. “But to think about it, what was all that about? I mean, you’re more pissed at Sugarcoat than Flash…”
“Now that he realised he’s been doing that, he thinks he doesn’t deserve me.” Muffins sighed.
“Or he just needed an occasion to run,” Indigo said. “Seriously, I don’t think I’d bother.”
“You bothered with me,” Bulk said.
“Yeah, but you’re not Flash,” Indigo replied. “I mean, he’s fine, if you’re into–” She looked at Muffins. “What are you into?”
“Currently into building boats.” Muffins grabbed a saw. “And bloody revenge.”
“Then you’d have to use that on Sandalwood,” Bulk said, pointing at the saw. “Though I’d use a chisel. But to think about it, Sugarcoat wouldn’t care much.”
“Yeah, they got kinda mad at each other.” Muffins nodded. “I never thought it was possible.” She took a chisel from the table and spun it between her fingers. “I guess I’ll have to– Ouch!” She dropped the chisel and put her finger in her mouth.
“Is everything okay?” Indigo asked.
“I cut off my finger,” Muffins replied in monotone, staring at a small cut on her finger. “Or maybe not.” She clicked her tongue. “Is it blood?”
“I’ll get a band-aid,” Indigo muttered when Bulk caught Muffins before she fell on the ground.
“Hmm, so you’re saying that she gave you a list of holes in my body where she’d like to put a chisel in?” Sugarcoat asked. “That’s quite unlike her.”
“That wasn’t a list.” Indigo shrugged. “She just mentioned all of them, once she woke up.”
“Yet she faints at the sight of blood.” Sugarcoat smirked. “It won’t go on for too long.”
“Only if it’s her blood,” Indigo said. “She’s fine with other people’s blood.”
Sugarcoat chuckled. “Oh, so once a month–”
“I was just hoping we wouldn’t turn this into a conversation about periods.” Indigo rolled her eyes.
“Why?” Sugarcoat asked. “Homo sum, humani nihil a me alienum puto, after all.”
Before Indigo could tell Sugarcoat her thoughts on Latin, they heard some commotion not far away from there. It got even stranger when they raised their heads and saw that the source of the noise were Lemon Zest and Sour Sweet. Normally, those two managed to keep civil at school, even if by that they meant not talking to each other and ostensively ignoring each other’s existence.
“What’s going on?” Indigo asked when Lemon and Sour approached them.
“Oh, Indigo! How nice to see you,” Sour Sweet said. “Tell me, did Sunny come here with you?”
“She called me yesterday, telling me not to wait for her,” Indigo replied. “She sounded sick. Why are you asking?”
“I need to break her leg,” Sour Sweet muttered. “And before you say that’s insane, Lemon wants to do that too. That’s, like, the only thing we agree upon.”
Indigo rolled her eyes. “Can’t you hurt Sugarcoat instead? You could form the 'Everybody Hates Sugarcoat' club with Muffins.”
Sugarcoat sighed. “What did Sunny do to earn such an attention from you?”
Before Sour could reply, Lemon shoved her aside. “Sweet Leaf and I were helping her find her mother. And of course, she had to talk with Sweet Leaf…”
“Oh, stop whining,” Sour Sweet muttered. “I mean, you weren’t the one cockblocked…” She looked at Indigo and Sugarcoat. “Metaphorically speaking.”
Lemon frowned. “But still, you just had to–”
“What I had to?” Sour Sweet rolled her eyes. “Oh, sorry for learning what you say about me behind my back!”
“You deserved it!” Lemon exclaimed.
“Shut up, you two,” Sugarcoat muttered. Somehow, it was more effective than shouting. “Now, tell me what happened. Indigo, if they keep arguing, I let you headbutt them.”
“Why would I?”
“Because you seem to like it, if Juniper Montage's face is any indication.” Sugarcoat turned to Sour Sweet and Lemon. “Tell me what happened, kids.”
Sour Sweet shuddered. The jacket she was wearing wasn’t the best bet for the cold and wet weather, but it was as revealing as it could be without Sour Sweet risking freezing to death. It didn’t matter – Sour hoped she wouldn’t be outdoors for long. When Sweet Leaf had invited her for a coffee, Sour’s heart started to race. She darted out of the house, nearly knocking Sour Patch over, and rushed to the cafe, ignoring the cold.
Now she finally opened the door of a quaint, little cafe devoid of the forced hipster feel of other such establishments in the town, and approached the table where she saw Sweet Leaf and–
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Sour Sweet muttered, looking at Lemon Zest, who was sitting next to Sweet Leaf.
“Sour?” Lemon looked at her classmate before turning to Sweet Leaf. “You two know each other?”
“I was just going to ask the same thing,” Sour Sweet muttered. “What’s going on?”
“Sit down, Sour,” Sweet Leaf said, blushing. “We need to talk…”
“If you say something like, ‘you probably wonder why I gathered you here’, I’m gonna–” Sour’s eyes met Sweet Leaf’s and for a moment they remained locked. “– leave.”
“What happened to you punching people who disagree with you?” Lemon Zest asked.
“Well, that was what I wanted to talk about,” Sweet Leaf said quickly, seeing Sour Sweet’s face turning red. “I mean, umm… Sunny Flare told me that you two were, umm… together. I wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth, but now I see she was. Also, since I’m friends with both of you, I wouldn’t want to, you know, make it awkward by…” She looked into her coffee. “I just made it more awkward, didn’t I?”
“Yes,” Lemon Zest muttered. “You could’ve just asked me.”
“Or me.” Sour Sweet crossed her arms. “No need to turn it into a fucking group therapy.”
Sweet Leaf shrugged. “Well, I kinda wanted to hear both sides of the story.”
“There’s only one side.” Lemon turned to Sour. “She’s insane.”
“That’s not my fault,” Sour Sweet said. “You’re, however, a bitch. That is your fault.”
“Of course, because it’s never your fault!” Lemon exclaimed. “When you tried to turn me into your personal punching bag, that wasn’t your fault either, right?”
“This again?” Sour Sweet rolled her eyes. “For your information: when your mother died, I was there for you. All the time! But when I needed you, you turned your back on me!”
“Girls…” Sweet Leaf muttered.
“What did you even need me for?” Lemon shouted. “Have someone to hit? Someone to fu–”
“I had a mental breakdown if you didn’t notice!” Sour Sweet exclaimed. “I ran away from home on Christmas!”
“Because you told your parents that we were together,” Lemon replied. “I didn’t exactly feel like telling them that, but you never care about anything I want or feel!”
“Girls, maybe we should take this somewhere else?” Sweet Leaf muttered before Sour Sweet could say something. She was almost hiding under the table while everyone in the cafe looked at them. What was worse, it seemed that Sweet Leaf’s classmate, Drama Letter, started to work there again. This meant the whole school would soon know all the details of their argument.
Lemon Zest stood up. “I know where I’m gonna take this. Anywhere but here, with you two.” She turned back and stormed out of the cafe.
“Seems that we’re on the same boat now,” Sour Sweet muttered. “Welcome aboard the ‘Oh Shit, I Fucked Up Big Time’.”
“Wow…” Sweet Leaf took a deep breath; her face was still pale. “That’s just… You two are terrible, you know?”
Sour Sweet furrowed her eyebrows. “Don’t blame us. We were perfectly fine with avoiding talking to each other and being civil in those rare cases when we had to interact. Just… What the hell was that? I mean, what gave you the idea...”
Sweet Leaf’s eyes filled with tears. “I just wanted to know you better… I mean, you never mentioned you knew her–”
Sour Sweet grabbed Sweet Leaf’s hand. “It’s okay… I just thought you were wiser than that…”
“She never told me that her ex was you,” Sweet Leaf said. “When I heard of it, I could never believe that you’d be able to–” She hissed when Sour tightened her grip around her hand, nearly crushing it.
“So, you’re gossiping about me?” Sour Sweet muttered. “Oh, that’s just rich. And when you heard we used to be together you wanted to check if you could make us both happy?”
“Stop it…” Sweet Leaf whispered.
Sour Sweet let go off her hand. “I really thought you were wiser than that, Sweet Leaf. I’m disappointed and when someone disappoints me…” She looked deeply into Sweet Leaf’s eyes, causing her to move back with her seat. However, after a while, Sour Sweet dropped back on her chair, breathing deeply. “Don’t give me that look, I’m fine. I just need to think about a few things.”
She got up and walked out of the cafe. Trying to remain calm, she walked for two blocks, staring at the ground and carefully avoiding bumping into people. Then she turned into a side street and rested her back against the wall of a nearby building, producing her phone. She unlocked it and checked the recent numbers before picking one.
“This is Sunny Flare. I’m currently starting a revolution in a small African country, so I can’t really pick up your call. If you really need to, leave a message after the beep thingy.”
Sour Sweet groaned, listening to the signal. “You’re already dead, cunt…”
“Not cool,” Sugarcoat muttered. “From all sides.”
“Well, at least coffee sales went up,” Indigo said. “I mean, after witnessing such a drama, everyone could use a drink…”
Lemon Zest pouted. “That’s not funny. Do you know how I felt?”
“It will be once Sunny shows up.” Indigo chuckled.
“Betrayed and humiliated,” Lemon muttered. “I cried all night.”
Sour Sweet shrugged. “It’d be better if you didn’t start yelling at everyone. We could’ve just told Sweet Leaf that–”
“Oh, because you’re so prim and proper now?” Lemon groaned. “Go back to her. It seems you two really love each other…”
“Chill out, both of you,” Sugarcoat said. “And you, Indigo. Something tells me Sunny won’t show up for a while, at least until you stop behaving like children. Be classy, like Sandalwood and I…”
“There was nothing classy about it.” Indigo smirked. “Also, how should Sunny know you don’t want to murder her anymore? Should we call her, or what?”
“I already did…” Lemon muttered.
The sharp ringtone threw Sunny awake. She groaned, tossing in her bed and opened her bloodshot eyes. She and her father found her mother sitting on a bench in a remote part of the park; she was drunk and nearly passed out from cold, but they managed to put her in the car before someone noticed them. However, someone took a photo of them when they arrived to the hospital and Sunny didn’t need internet to know that everyone already knew Lens Flare had a problem.
Sunny’s father stayed in the hospital with her mom. However, he called an assistant who drove Sunny home and was currently asleep on the couch, after Sunny told her that she was most definitely too tired for a suicide attempt or whatever her father thought she might try.
The wrist device rang again, causing Sunny to curse and pick up the call. “Fuck off, it’s 4 AM,” she muttered. “You can kill me later.”
“Are you okay, Sunny?”
Sunny blinked, recognising the voice. “Lemon,” she said, sitting on her bed. “My mom is in the hospital. Judging from Sour Sweet’s message, Sweet Leaf proved once again that she’s a mental fuck-up and you all think it’s my fault. Fine. I haven’t had a drink since last year and I flushed all the weird pills I found down the toilet. Fine. My family is doing everything to make me wish I didn’t. It’s 4 AM and when I finally managed to fall asleep, you call me. Does that sound like I am okay?”
“No.”
“Great.” Sunny ended the call, then took off her wrist device and threw it on the nightstand. She rolled out of her bed and dragged her feet across the room. Then she opened the closet and looked at the top shelf. There, hidden behind old clothes, wrapped in a small jacket from her first grade school uniform, was the only bottle of vodka that survived the numerous periods of purge and relapse.
Sunny knew it was there when she got rid of her stocks by the end of December. She was pretty sure she put it, together with other bottles in some dark nook, probably causing some homeless bum to have the best Christmas of his life. However, the bottle was still there. Sunny looked at it unsurely. The weight was as it should be, same with the way cold glass was touching her skin. She spun it, feeling the contents swirl inside.
Sunny went back to her bed, cradling the bottle in her arms. She looked at it and her hand trembled. She promised herself. She knew exactly what happened to her mother and that she most definitely didn’t want to follow that path. However, the bottle was so tempting…
Sunny focused on thinking what’d her father say if he came back and found her inebriated again. There was also that assistant, a bored woman in thick-rimmed glasses, who was asleep on the couch downstairs. Sunny thought she looked rather dumb, but after all, her father had hired her for some reason. Most definitely not because of sex. Sunny found her thoroughly unattractive.
For a moment, Sunny’s hand clenched on the bottle. She wanted to break it, to throw it at the wall, only to find out that it was still in her hand. She took a deep breath. Her hands trembled so badly she could barely read the name on the label.
“You haven’t eaten in hours,” she whispered to herself. “A few gulps and you’re gonna be throwing up like a cat on drugs… If not worse.”
Swallowing her tears, she opened the bottle.
“So, that’s all she said?” Indigo asked.
“Well, Lemon had a great idea to call her in the middle of the night,” Sugarcoat muttered. “You’d probably respond with ‘fuck off’ or something equally eloquent.”
“Maybe I’ll call her.” Indigo grabbed her phone. “Just to make sure she’s okay.”
“Nah, she’s probably drunk out of her mind, sitting on the roof and throwing her clothes at people.”
“She said she would never drink again.” Sour Sweet furrowed her eyebrows. “But well, it’s Sunny we’re talking about.”
Before anyone could think of anything to respond to that, they heard the bell ringing. Sugarcoat stood up with a sigh and followed her friends to the class, lost in her thoughts.
Sandalwood looked at the wooden structure in front of him. After a brief consideration of all the options, he grabbed a hammer and tried to drive another nail into it. The structure fell apart, boards and planks scattered on the floor.
“I don’t get why did you take that course,” Bulk said. “I mean, you always preferred to save trees from being cut rather than make stuff out of wood.”
“I have to maintain my manly image,” Sandalwood replied. “Now that I’m free as a bird again…”
“Watch out or you’ll end up like Flash,” Bulk muttered. “I’ve heard from Ringo that he makes them practice sad country songs.”
“That bad?” Sandalwood shrugged. “Flash needs to learn to handle a breakup like a grown man. With a hammer in his hand.” He swung a hammer, narrowly avoiding hitting his forehead with it.
“He does that better,” Bulk muttered, looking at the wooden cart he’d built. “Besides, does it mean you and Sugarcoat are done with each other?”
“Definitely,” Sandalwood replied. “Well, most likely.” He shrugged. “If you want to get a bigger Crystal Prep harem, no problem. I can give you a list of things she likes.”
“No, thanks,” Bulk said. “I just hope Indigo told her to watch out for Muffins.”
Sandalwood looked into the corner of the class where Muffins was working. “Ah, so that’s why she tries to hide an angle grinder in her backpack?”
“More or less,” Bulk said. “Hmm, do you know someone who could use a wooden cart?”
“Sugarcoat, after Muffins is done with her.” Sandalwood shrugged. “Anyway, I’ll tell you a funny thing. Remember that girl from the debate team?”
“I don’t know any girls from the debate team,” Bulk replied. “I barely even talk with your weird friends, maybe except of Planet.”
“Sweet Leaf,” Sandalwood said, trying to put the remains of his cart together. “Green hair, hat, such stuff. You know, it seems that there needs to be a constant amount of relationships between us and students of Crystal Prep. Like, you know what Starlight told me?”
“Starlight is that purple-haired one, right?” Bulk sighed. “She tried to beat Indigo.”
“Starlight?” Sandalwood smirked. “She wouldn’t hurt a fly. Anyway, she said Sweet Leaf hangs out with a girl from Crystal Prep. Guess which one.”
“Sour Sweet,” Bulk said. “She is the only Crystal Prep student Starlight knows.”
“Damn.” Sandalwood chuckled. “Hang out with me more and you’re gonna be even smarter. Anyway, when we talked about this, Drama Letter came to us. She works in a cafe again, you know. She said that–”
“Sandalwood, if you put as much effort into building this cart as you put in spreading rumours, it’d already fly to the moon,” Bulk muttered.
“Well, I can always call it modern art.” Sandalwood prodded the remains of his cart with his foot, causing it to break and collapse completely. “Anyway, Drama Letter–”
Bulk sighed and shook his head.
Sunny took a deep breath. Cold air made her head spin, but she hardly cared. She was sure she’d get late for school; successfully evading her father’s assistant by getting out through the window took her quite a long time. Now, she decided to ditch the bus and take a shortcut via the snow-covered park. She had no time to waste.
Unfortunately for Sunny, in drunken stupor she hardly noticed that while she was walking in a generally good direction, it was already closer to the lunch break than the beginning of the classes. Sunny’s father assistant, hearing the commotion coming from Sunny’s room in the morning, when she was finishing the bottle, assumed she was getting ready for school and went upstairs to catch up with some paperwork. Therefore, she never noticed how and when Sunny left for school.
The park was almost empty, but somehow, it was hard to walk through wet, melting snow. Sunny tripped a few times, nearly lost her way, and bumped into a tree next to the path.
“Watch out!” she yelled. The tree didn’t reply, so she flipped it off and continued to walk. The sun was bright, reflecting off of the snow, and jarring her eyes. Tears welled in them, making her vision even more blurry. Sunny blinked. It was cold and she was feeling sleepy. There were more and more trees around – a sign that she was close to the school, approaching the building from behind. Still, it seemed far away; Sunny trembled, staggering, and started to look for some bench to sit on, for just a few minutes. There was none around, but the huge pile of snow next to the fence looked welcoming too…
“Hey! What are you doing here?”
Sunny shook off the grogginess and looked at the girl standing on the other side of the pile. She was short; as far as Sunny could tell, even shorter than Indigo. Sunny immediately thought it was the fault of cigarettes; the girl was just smoking one. She struggled to recall her name.
“Hi, Suri,” she slurred after she managed to do so. “Smoking before the lessons, huh?”
Suri blew out the smoke and furrowed her eyebrows, looking at dishevelled Sunny. “It’s lunch break, you drunk moron.”
“Oh.” Sunny staggered and collapsed into the pile of snow. “I’m late for school…”
“You can be dying of alcohol poisoning and that’s what you worry about? Geez.” Suri shook her head. “But well, every cloud’s got a silver lining…”
Sunny looked at the sky. “Bullshit. I can’t see any.”
Suri smirked. “If the mountain won’t come to Muhammad…”
“Why Muhammad?” Sunny blinked, trying to focus her gaze on Suri. “Mountains, clouds… Fuck them all.”
“I texted you and you never replied,” Suri said. “And I texted you because Lemon Mint told me you and Zap put your dirty hands on someone’s nudes.”
Sunny scratched her head. “Don’t bother. You don’t know that girl anyway.”
“Then it won’t do any harm.” Suri smirked. “Also, I can tell you something funny about Frosty Orange.”
Sunny shrugged. “Sour Sweet will be very angry if those end up being posted somewhere.”
“They won’t.” Suri sat next to Sunny and patted her back. “You have my word.”
“Mhm.” Sunny unlocked her wrist device and searched through the folders. “There.” She hiccuped. “As I said, you don’t know her.”
“Not from this side.” Suri tilted her head, staring at the screen. Then, she poked Sunny. “Don’t fall asleep, you pathetic drunk. Could you send those to me?”
“I guess I could…” Sunny slurred, struggling to keep awake. “Sharing is, like, caring.” She tapped the screen a few times, missing her mark more often than not, but Suri eventually heard the sound of her phone receiving a message.
“Just remember,” Sunny whispered. “If Sour hears about that, we’re dead.” She smiled. “Those two are dating!”
“Yeah, I’ll surely remember that,” Suri muttered, hiding her phone in her purse. “Hey, you awake?”
Sunny lowered her head, snoring. Her breath was rather shallow and when Suri poked her, she found out that her skin was cold and dry. “Oh, just great,” she muttered, looking around. “Anyone here?”
She sighed and grabbed Sunny’s arm, dragging her to the hole in the fence surrounding the school. It wasn’t easy; while Sunny was short and thin herself, she was still a good few inches taller than Suri. Luckily, a slap to the face woke her up enough to take a few steps before collapsing in the car park.
“Oh, fuck this…” Suri muttered, grabbing her phone and picked the first number she found. “Trenderhoof? Get your ass to the car park, okay? We have a problem…”
Sugarcoat just finished her lunch when they heard the sirens. At first she thought the ambulance was going somewhere else, but the signal grew louder, soon drowning every conversation in the canteen. Sugarcoat put down the fork and took a grim look at her friends. “So, it came to this,” she muttered. “Moondancer finally flipped and is gonna shoot us all.”
“No way,” Sour Sweet said. “I didn’t hear any shots. Besides, Moondancer visits my mom, who gave her pills that are better than mine…”
“Yeah, and she’s sitting there, in the corner,” Indigo said. “We should, like, go to Canterlot High and arrange her a date with the fellow weirdo…”
“Or you just need something to gossip about,” Sour replied. “Guess Trenderhoof got ran over or something. He ran out of here as if his ass was on fire.”
“Maybe.” Indigo walked to the canteen’s door and grabbed some younger student, who was passing by. “Hey, do you know what’s going on?”
The short girl with glasses shrugged. “Someone passed out at the car park. They say she had diabetes, but to me she looked kinda drunk. And weird, no jacket or anything in that weather.”
“Okay, okay, don’t be such a smartass.” Indigo released the girl and walked back to her friends. “Does anyone in school have diabetes?”
“Ginger Owlseye,” Lemon replied. “Remember, she told us what to do in case she gets hypoglycemia.”
Indigo nodded. “Orange Sherbette too. She has that inhaler…”
Sugarcoat sighed. “She has asthma, you moron.”
Indigo looked at Sugarcoat and rolled her eyes. “Anyway, Ginger is here, which leaves the second option. Who’d be dumb enough to come to school drunk and nearly freeze to de–” Suddenly, the realisation came upon her. “Sunny.”
“Sunny,” Sugarcoat muttered, rushing down the corridor.
Indigo paced back and forth across the hospital corridor, her hands trembling. It was an early morning and she should technically be at school, but she was pretty sure no one in Crystal Prep minded. In fact, many students probably followed her example and decided to skip classes, still in shock after the events of yesterday.
“I still don’t get how could she be that dumb?” Indigo rolled her eyes. “I mean, she was always slightly–”
“Crazy?” Bulk asked.
“Yeah.” Indigo stopped near Bulk and sighed. “And all that stuff with Sweet Leaf made it even worse. But there was no–”
“Oh, I think there was a reason,” Bulk said. “As you said yesterday, this had to blow up, sooner or later. Especially since you’re not innocent here...”
Indigo trembled and kicked a chair before turning to Bulk. “Now you too? Okay, I heard about this shit once, but don’t act like I personally stole those photos! And tell Sandalwood to get off his high horse!”
“You could’ve told Sunny to delete them,” Bulk replied. “Even force her to, if you had to. You were pretty happy to do that before…”
“This again!?” Indigo groaned. “Listen, I don’t know what Sandalwood told you just because Sweet Leaf is apparently his mascot, but I don’t care! I said we’re all partially to blame! Who’d have thought–”
“– that Sunny is an alcoholic who is just going through her parents’ divorce?” Bulk shrugged. “Lemon did. Sweet Leaf did. And you know what happened to her…”
“Yeah, sure…” Indigo rolled her eyes. “Why couldn’t Sweet Leaf just leave Sunny, Lemon, and Sour alone? No, she just had to get between them… And don’t tell me that we could’ve intervened earlier. They are adults and they’re responsible for what they do.”
Bulk nodded. “So, being an adult means you don’t help each other?”
“In Crystal Prep, we value independence,” Indigo replied. “Now you’re just trying to pin the blame on me because I don’t think Sunny is the worst cunt in the world for releasing those photos. She’s my friend and I’m loyal to friends.”
“And she wasn’t your friend when she needed help?” Bulk shrugged. “Good to know.”
“I’m busy with my own life,” Indigo said. “The others should take care of theirs. And maybe not make nude selfies and then run around acting like our fucking lord and saviour.”
Bulk stood up. “That’s not forbidden. Unlike stealing and publishing them!”
“Oh, please…” Indigo took a deep breath, but at the same time the door opened, revealing a chubby pink nurse, who looked at them, furrowing her eyebrows.
“Can you go and argue somewhere else?” she asked.
“Actually, we wanted to see Sour Sweet,” Indigo said.
“Unfortunately, she can’t see you,” the nurse replied. “Two yelling morons are the last thing Ms. Sweet needs now.” She closed the door.
Indigo groaned. “Well, fuck you too!”
A week before Indigo and Bulk’s trip to the hospital, the first cracks started to appear. Sunny Flare just landed in a hospital; as it soon turned out, due to acute alcohol poisoning. The students of Crystal Prep were still talking about those events, when another news hit them like an incoming wave.
“Sunny’s not coming back,” Sugarcoat said. The lesson just ended and she was sitting on her table with a phone in her hand. “Her father thinks she needs a change of environment.”
“Well, to be honest, he’s probably right,” Lemon replied.
“Nah, that sounds like we’re the problem.” Indigo shrugged. “Her family is a bigger one.”
“Her mom is in the rehab already,” Lemon said. “Sunny’s pretty stressed so she may need some time for herself…”
“Do you know that 97% of Crystal Prep students go to the college?” Sour Sweet asked. “Also, 1% ends up in the nuthouse every year. Let me tell you, Sunny was pretty close.”
“Surely,” Indigo muttered. “I guess it won’t be long before she’s back. She wouldn’t want to miss a year.”
“I totally would, if you didn’t drag me out of my room…” Lemon sighed.
“And who did?” Sour asked. Lemon ignored her, so she just threw the book she was reading on the table. “Sure, you’re welcome.”
Since Lemon kept ignoring her, Sour turned in her chair and saw Suri Polomare looking at her. “What do you want?”
“Well, I kinda saved Flare’s life, okay?” Suri replied. “If I didn’t call the ambulance…”
“We’re really grateful.” Sour Sweet rolled her eyes. “Now, get out. We don’t need another failed fashionista in Sunny’s place.”
“Oh, surely you don’t…” Suri smirked.
Sandalwood yawned. He really didn’t like getting up early to school only to nod off in the class and being generally unproductive. For some reason, whoever invented schools, didn’t share that sentiment; Sandalwood often argued that getting up later would make anyone remember more from the lessons, but it was still a voice in the wilderness.
Suddenly, he heard his phone beeping. He took it out of his pocket. His eyes widened when he looked at the screen, but then he smirked. “Shitstorm is coming…” he muttered.
He didn’t even hide the phone when Bulk walked to him, saying, “Hello. What’s up?”
“We’d better hide and wait until it ends,” Sandalwood replied.
“What ends?” Bulk asked.
“Norman sent me nudes,” Sandalwood said, turning the phone in his hands and looking closer.
“Well, that’s his problem.” Bulk chuckled. “And all those girls that are gonna be heartbroken because he’s into you.”
“It’s not his nudes.” Sandalwood showed his phone to Bulk. “Seems that I need to call off the debate club meeting…”
Bulk’s eyes widened. “What the–”
“Hey, Sweet Leaf!” Cloudy Kicks exclaimed, running past them. “Nice tits you have!”
“As I said, debate club meeting is cancelled,” Sandalwood said. “No one’s gonna be able to focus now.”
“Is that seriously your only concern?” Bulk asked.
“Of course not.” Sandalwood sighed. “Fuchsia Blush, Cloudy Kicks, Cherry Crash, and Aqua Blossom won’t let Sweet Leaf live now. Sophisticata may support her for all the wrong reasons, and the guys… Hmm, soon someone will try to remove these photos from the internet so everyone at school will see them. Enjoy peace while it lasts.”
Bulk groaned. “You’re a cynical dick, Sandalwood.”
Sandalwood shrugged. “But am I wrong?”
“Hey, slut!”
Sweet Leaf cowered, rushing away from the group of girls. She didn’t even know who they were, but after spending most of the morning listening to expletives, vulgar propositions, and threats, she hardly cared. She turned back and ran, bumping into people and losing her hat.
“Whore!” Pixel Pizzazz tripped Sweet Leaf, who got up quickly, running away from her.
“Thinking you’re better than us, huh? Not so much, turns out…”
“Nothing to be ashamed of! I really liked those pics…”
Sweet Leaf had enough. She pushed the bathroom door and closed it behind her, tears flowing from her eyes. Then she turned back and realised that she wasn’t alone. Some girl just left the stall and walked towards her. Sweet Leaf blinked and recognised her.
“Sweet Leaf?” Muffins asked. “Are you okay?”
Sweet Leaf trembled. “Haven’t you heard?”
“No,” Muffins replied. “People keep asking me ‘haven’t you heard?’, but no one actually tells me anything.” She sighed. “Guess I’m just a fuck-up.”
Sweet Leaf lowered her head, her hair obscuring her face. “Some time ago, I took some… photos of myself. Now they’re all over the internet…”
“Ah,” Muffins replied. “That’s why I only take such photos with a 35mm camera and keep the film rolls well-hidden.”
Sweet Leaf’s brief chuckle quickly turned into crying. Muffins pulled her into an awkward hug, but Sweet Leaf pushed her away and locked herself in one of the stalls.
“I’m sorry!” Muffins exclaimed. “I didn’t mean to!”
“Get out!” Sweet Leaf shouted. “Everybody leave me alone!”
Muffins started considering whether to listen to her or try to talk with her, but then the bathroom door opened.
“Hello,” Cloudy Kicks said, walking inside. “Have you seen Sweet Leaf? I heard this little bitch is hiding here.”
Muffins furrowed her eyebrows and clenched her fists, trying to look as threatening as she could. “And I heard that you want your teeth to be punched deeper into your skull.”
Unfortunately for her, the effect was mostly ruined by her voice cracking. However, she noticed that Cloudy backpedalled and thought that hanging out with Indigo in the gym finally paid off; especially in comparison with Cloudy who, while being fast and loud, had a rather lousy training regime; if gossips were to be believed, it mostly consisted of private sessions with Norman and a few other guys.
“Screw you,” Cloudy Kicks muttered. “I’m not getting suspended again because of that whore.” She turned back and walked away, whispering curses under her breath. Muffins walked to the stall and knocked on the door.
“You can get out,” she said. “She’s gone.”
“Leave me alone!” Sweet Leaf exclaimed.
“It’s fine, really,” Muffins said. “I’m not here to laugh at you… I mean, those weren’t bad photos.”
“Get out!” Sweet Leaf shouted, crying. Muffins stepped back, lowering her head. She then rushed out of the toilet, deciding to search for Sunset Shimmer.
Sour Sweet was lying on her bed, her eyes closed. She had headphones covering her ears and filling them with relaxing, ambient tunes. Just like her doctor told her, she was about to clear her mind of all the negative thoughts and reach the state of perfect balance and harmony. At least until someone brutally shook her awake.
“I’m gonna kick you in the knee so it bends the wrong way,” Sour Sweet muttered in the perfectly calm, subtle tone.
“You’re lovely, you know?” Sweeten Sour handed Sour Sweet her phone and walked out of the room.
Sour Sweet looked at the screen and smirked, seeing that Sweet Leaf was calling. She picked it up. “Hello, sweetie,” she said. “How was your day? If Lemon Zest doesn’t plan to tag along, we can–” She paused, hearing Sweet Leaf’s weeping. “What happened?”
“I… I once took some, umm… photos,” Sweet Leaf replied. “Like, private photos, but…” She cried, swallowing her tears. “S-someone stole them and n-now everyone saw them!”
Sour Sweet sat on her bed, furrowing her eyebrows. “How in the hell…”
“I don’t know!” Sweet Leaf’s voice was barely intelligible. “Everyone is calling me a slut… Or worse, they want me to–” The rest of the sentence drowned in weeping and heaving.
Suddenly Sour Sweet froze. “That bitch…” she whispered, clutching the hand on her phone so hard that her fingers turned white.
“What?” Sweet Leaf asked.
“Nothing,” Sour Sweet replied. “I… I think I know who could do that. Hold on, I need to make a call. I’ll come to you tomorrow and we’ll talk, okay? Just… stay safe, okay?”
After Sweet Leaf confirmed, Sour Sweet put the phone down, trembling. Her stomach was twisting and she was clenching her fists, unable to say a word or form a coherent thought. She took a couple of deep breaths before grabbing her phone again. Her fingers didn’t exactly want to listen to her, but finally she managed to find Sunny Flare in her contacts.
Nobody answered the phone. After a few signals, Sour heard Sunny’s voicemail, but she cut the call right after the beginning; she didn’t want to ruin the surprise.
She called again, then one more time. Still without any results. Eventually, Sour dropped on her bed with a loud groan, throwing the phone on Sweeten Sour’s bed.
Sunny Flare didn’t answer to any of Sour Sweet’s calls simply because she couldn’t. Shortly after sobering up in the hospital, she found herself in the car with her father and his assistant. She quickly lost track of the way and none of her companions in that trip was very talkative. Still hungover and weak after almost twenty-four hours her system needed to get rid of all the alcohol, she didn’t dare to speak until they reached a large, castle-like building in the middle of the woods.
The sign above the gate informed Sunny that they were entering “Dr. Slivovitz’s Institute of Transformative Recovery for Young Adults”. It told Sunny absolutely nothing.
Soon, however, they were joined by two nurses and a short, cheerful man with a black beard and a funny accent, probably dr. Slivovitz himself. Sunny was weighed, measured, and examined, complete with taking a blood sample. Her wrist device was taken away from her; when she protested, she was told that she’d get it back soon.
“I’ll come to you in a week,” Sunny’s father said. “Don’t worry about school. I’ll take care of it.”
“Don’t worry?” Sunny asked. “You’re putting me in a rehab like mom and you think it’ll solve everything?”
“No, it’s not going to solve everything,” Sunny’s father replied. “But for starters, maybe it’ll stop you from trying to get yourself killed. Do you know how close you were? If your friends didn’t find you, you’d either freeze or just stop breathing due to how drunk you were.”
“Maybe that’d be for the best,” Sunny muttered under her breath. It didn’t stop her father from leaving a few hours later, leaving her alone with the nurses, doctors, and psychologists. After a couple more tests, Sunny was finally put in a room with a thin, constantly trembling girl with big eyes and nice, white teeth. She introduced herself, but Sunny forgot her name immediately, instead thinking of her as “Chihuahua”.
“Why are you here?” Chihuahua whispered as soon as Sunny sat on her bed. She was sitting in the corner of the room, looking at Sunny as if she was about to attack her.
“My parents are jerks,” Sunny replied.
“Mine are dead,” Chihuahua said. As Sunny noted, she was probably eighteen, maybe nineteen. “Grandma put me here.”
“Sounds like a lovely person…” Sunny muttered. “Kinda like my dad.”
“She had her reasons.” Chihuahua pulled her teeth out of her mouth, revealing that they were, in fact, a denture. “She didn’t like me spending her money on heroin.”
“Can you not do that?” Sunny fought the gag reflex, pointing at Chihuahua’s denture.
“Oh, sorry,” Chihuahua replied. “I have to get a better one. This one doesn’t exactly fit and it’s pretty annoying…”
“Sure…” Sunny winced, moving away. She had several questions, but she felt asking her new roommate what happened to her teeth on the first day could be considered rude.
She still didn’t ask about it two days later. It turned out that Chihuahua (whose actual name was either Flamenco Star or Rosie Fandango; Sunny wasn’t sure) had trouble sleeping so, in turn, Sunny couldn’t sleep either. Now she was nodding off in the cafeteria after supper, over a glass of Screwdriver. Or rather, she wished it was Screwdriver but due to the key element being banned in the premises, so it was just a glass of orange juice.
Lost in her thoughts, she only noticed the nurse approaching her, when she put her wrist device on the table in front of her.
“You can get it back,” the nurse said. “It’s a rather unusual device. May I ask–”
“I made it myself,” Sunny replied, focusing her gaze on her orange juice.
“Interesting,” the nurse said. “No wonder you’re so interested in our arts and crafts classes…”
“I am?” Sunny remembered taking part in those, but never particularly cared about it. It was just something to keep her hands busy.
“Anyway, it seems that someone really wants to contact you,” the nurse said. “It kept ringing over the last two days.”
“Yeah, I’ll check it out,” Sunny muttered. She waited until the nurse walked away and grabbed her wrist device, tapping the screen.
The battery was almost dead, but Sunny saw that Sour Sweet tried to call her at least a hundred times over the last two days. She sighed and called back.
To her surprise, Sour Sweet picked up immediately. Her voice was raspy and quiet. “Who’s that?” she asked.
“It’s me, Sunny. I’m in some re–”
“You!” Sour Sweet shouted, causing Sunny to look around the cafeteria and quickly lower the volume. “Don’t ever show up at school again, or I’m not responsible for my actions. I’ll slit your fucking throat, you cunt, and use your head as a–”
“Hold on,” Sunny said. “What are you talking about? What did I do to deserve such an attention?”
“You know damn well what you did!” Sour Sweet exclaimed. “That was your little parting gift, right, you inbred imbecile?”
“What?” Sunny asked. “Explain this lunatic’s rambling, okay? I’d like to know why I’m dying before I bleed out.”
“Sweet Leaf’s photos,” Sour Sweet replied. “You put them on the internet, didn’t you? You thought it was funny?”
Sunny shuddered, feeling as if the whole building just collapsed on her. “What? I never…” Her stomach twisted and turned when the realisation came unto her. “Suri Polomare! She tricked me into giving them to her when I was drunk! I swear, it wasn’t me!”
There was a long moment of silence before Sour Sweet spoke again. “I… For a moment, I thought you were a vile, disgusting drunk, Sunny.”
“Umm… thanks?” Sunny shrugged.
“Now I know you’re a vile, disgusting drunk, who is also a total fucking moron,” Sour Sweet replied. “Suri Polomare? Idiot.”
“I’m sorry!” Sunny exclaimed. “Besides, it’s not like it’s something bad, right? I mean, people will eventually–”
“Don’t bother apologising.” Sour Sweet’s voice was cold and emotionless. “And don’t call me again.”
She hung up. For a moment, Sunny was sitting at the table, staring on the wall and breathing heavily. Then, she tapped the screen of her wrist device and called Indigo.
“You’re interrupting me and Bulk some nice boat-building session, so you’d better hurry,” Indigo said after she picked up the phone.
“Can you watch out for Suri Polomare for me?” Sunny took a deep breath, closing her eyes.
“What? Why?” Indigo asked. “Where are you? Why Suri Polomare?”
Sunny sighed. “Because Sour Sweet is gonna kill her.”
Indigo couldn’t exactly get used to the fact that Sunny was gone. She kept slowing down when driving by the bus stop where Sunny used to wait for her. She also couldn’t stop thinking about what Sunny told her yesterday.
The details, unfortunately, escaped her, as Sunny’s battery apparently died a moment later. Indigo wanted to call her in the morning, but forgot about it due to a sudden fit of stomach problems. She guessed eating chicken that was "almost fine" was not such a good idea of a supper after all.
When she arrived to school, she immediately spotted Sour Sweet walking across the car park. She caught up with her and smiled in what she hoped was the most innocent way to smile. “What’s up?” she asked.
“Fine,” Sour Sweet replied.
“Yeah.” Indigo looked around. “Weather’s getting better. Soon we’ll train on the pitch, huh? I need to talk with Frosty Orange and Suri Polomare…” She spoke each of the names slowly, looking at Sour’s face.
“What about?” Sour asked.
“Strategy, of course,” Indigo replied. “Canterlot High caught us off-guard in the first match and we can’t allow this to happen again, right?”
“Surely,” Sour Sweet said. “But I’m not sure if Frosty will play. Why don’t you talk with Lemon? She’s our first attacking midfielder.”
“I think coach said something about the change of the system…” Indigo groaned quietly when she saw that Lemon was walking towards the school’s door, keeping away from Sour Sweet and ignoring her. They were getting closer to dean Cadance, who was standing by the door. Indigo looked at Sour Sweet’s bag and got an idea.
“Have you heard about this guy who got really pissed at his classmate?” Indigo asked, making sure dean Cadance was within earshot. “He brought a backpack full of weapons and shot half of the school. Crazy, huh?”
“Indeed,” Sour Sweet replied. “Could’ve just shot that one classmate.”
“Yeah.” Indigo looked at dean Cadance, who just looked back at them and let them go. “Are you sure you aren’t angry, umm… for some reason?”
“What the hell do you want from me?” Sour asked.
“Nothing.” Indigo felt her stomach twist. “I mean, if you feel that you have to, umm…”
“She means that if you ever feel like murdering someone, you’d better come to us and talk about it first,” Sugarcoat said, joining them. “If only so we can help you hide the body.”
“More or less,” Indigo muttered, wincing and clutching to her stomach. “And now excuse me, I gotta puke.”
“Something’s wrong?” Sugarcoat asked.
“Leftover chicken demands freedom,” Indigo replied, rushing towards the nearest toilet.
“She’s a bit weird today, don’t you think?” Sour Sweet shrugged.
Sugarcoat nodded. “Yeah. You’re not going to kill anyone, right?”
Sour Sweet shook her head, smiling sheepishly.
The first lesson was mostly uneventful. Sour Sweet noticed that Indigo kept giving her strange looks, even when she was just gritting her teeth over the problem she was solving or staring at the clock, wishing the lesson was over.
When they finally heard a bell, Sour Sweet quickly packed her things and walked out of the classroom. Her head was aching slightly, but it was nothing wrong; she’s been through worse. Now she kept her mind in perfect check. There was nothing that could disturb the balance.
She walked downstairs, breathing evenly. Inhale, three steps down, exhale. Sour Sweet blinked. The crystal walls were never so colourful before. She wondered whether it was just another side effect of her meds; dulling out all the colours, making the world grey and boring.
Now, however, the colours swirled around her. She walked down the corridor lined with lockers, ignoring the students standing there. Then she turned around the corner and saw Suri Polomare standing by the classroom door and talking with Frosty Orange.
“Hello,” Suri said, seeing that Sour Sweet stopped by them. “What’s up?”
Sour Sweet was almost a foot taller than Suri. Without saying a word, she grabbed Suri and lifted her effortlessly, tossing her at the nearby row of lockers. With a metallic thump, Suri bounced off the edge of the locker and fell to the ground, losing one of her shoes.
“What are you–” Frosty Orange grabbed Sour’s arm, but Sour hit her in the face with her elbow and walked to Suri, who was sitting on the ground, blinking and looking around. Her hair was drenched with blood coming from a large cut in the back of her head.
Sour approached her and kicked her in the face, causing her to fall back on the floor, crying and bleeding from a broken nose.
“That’s for Sweet Leaf…” Sour Sweet muttered, stepping on Suri’s hand with a sickening crunch.
“Who?” Suri whispered. “This girl?” She groaned. “You should talk to Su–”
Sour Sweet grabbed the front of Suri’s blazer, ripping it apart, and lifted her, slamming her back against the lockers. “I’m talking to you now!” she shouted, shaking Suri and throwing her on the ground. Suri tried to crawl away, but Sour Sweet turned her on her back and sat on her chest, breathing heavily.
“I’d break the rest of your fingers, but that won’t teach you anything.” Sour panted, pinning half-conscious Suri to the ground with all her weight. “This, however, will.”
She pulled a razor blade out of her pocket and slid it down Suri’s cheek, causing her to scream. Blood, tears, and snot covered her face. She trembled when Sour Sweet made another deep gash on her face, getting dangerously close to her eye.
“Stop it!” Suri cried. She only earned a few more cuts on her cheeks and forehead.
Frosty Orange ran back, accompanied by coach Sombra. She screamed, seeing Sour sitting over Suri and rushed to them, trying to pull Sour back. Sombra helped her and together they dragged Sour away from Suri, kicking and yelling at them. More and more students arrived at the scene. Some of them immediately started taking photos.
“Someone call an ambulance!” Frosty shouted, struggling to keep Sour under control. “And police!”
Someone walked through the crowd, unceremoniously pushing people away causing some of them to drop their phones. “Sour!” Indigo exclaimed after finally getting to the first row. “What the–”
“Go and help them stop her,” Sugarcoat said, kneeling by Suri, who was covering her face. Torn, blood-stained clothes, swollen fingers, and a wet spot in front of her skirt immediately told Sugarcoat more than she wanted to know. She turned to Lemon, who froze, seeing the whole scene. “Go and get the nurse. Quick!”
Sour Sweet smiled when Indigo walked to her. She calmed down a bit and stopped struggling against Frosty and coach Sombra restraining her. “Nice, huh?” she asked. “Serves her right for what she did to Sweet Leaf…”
“You’re sick,” Indigo whispered. She turned away, unable to look into Sour’s wide eyes, and walked across the corridor, pushing the students aside. Then she went outside and took a deep breath, resting herself against the wall.
She noticed that she’d stepped into the pool of Suri’s blood, so she washed her shoe in the puddle of melting snow, listening to the sirens. A few moments later, two ambulances and a police car skid to a halt next to the school’s entrance.
“Over there,” Indigo muttered pointing at the door with her thumb. The paramedics nodded and followed her directions while still busy with a conversation.
“Are we gonna come here, like, every week?” one of them asked.
“Just wait until the exams…” the other replied.
Soon after they disappeared inside, the door opened and Sugarcoat walked out, holding crying Lemon Zest in an embrace.
“How’s she?” Indigo asked.
“Ashamed,” Sugarcoat replied.
“Sour?” Indigo shook her head. “I doubt it.”
“Sour just tried to thrash the nurse’s office,” Sugarcoat said. “I meant Suri. All she screams about now is that she peed herself in front of everyone and this school won’t forgive her that.”
“Priorities.” Indigo sighed. “What was all that about, though?” She shuddered. “Sunny called me and said something about Sour wanting to murder Suri, but–”
“Yeah, she chose the biggest dumbass,” Sugarcoat muttered, causing Lemon to cry louder.
“But why Suri?” Indigo asked. “I mean, Sunny put Sweet Leaf’s pics on the internet, but since she was away, Sour could just attack anyone…”
“You’re really dumb.” Sugarcoat rolled her eyes. “Who saved Sunny from freezing to death? Suri. Who hates Sour? Suri again. Sour would probably figure it out even if Sunny didn’t tell her. I’m sure she did and then realised how dumb she was, so she called you.”
“Fuck off,” Indigo muttered. She still couldn’t get rid of the mental image of Suri’s bloodied face. Sure, it was Suri, but she didn’t deserve such a fate. “If I took Sunny seriously…”
“Yeah, but who does?” Sugarcoat rolled her eyes. “Please, save me that ‘I could’ve prevented this' crap. Maybe if you kicked Sweet Leaf’s ass before she started to hang around Lemon and Sour…” She looked at Lemon, who shuddered, wailing. “Now you stop it. Sour and Sunny were ticking bombs and she was just dancing on the minefield.”
“She wanted to help us,” Lemon muttered.
“And were you okay with this?” Indigo shrugged. “If I recall correctly, none of you were. Now Sunny, Sour and Sweet Leaf are all screwed.” She turned towards the door just in time to see Suri being carried out on a stretcher. She was soon followed by Sour Sweet, half-conscious from whatever meds she was given.
“I think the lessons already started,” Sugarcoat muttered, watching the stretchers being packed to the ambulances.
“No one gives a fuck.” Indigo pointed at the students and teachers alike, who went out of the building to watch the ambulances driving away. Several policemen were walking around; one of them talked with coach Sombra, while a policewoman accompanied Frosty Orange.
“Should we talk to them?” Lemon asked.
“Yeah, sure, let’s dig everyone even deeper,” Sugarcoat replied. “The word ‘school’s reputation’ will be the last thing you’ll ever hear…”
“Yeah.” Indigo shrugged. “We’d better take a walk before–”
“Those three were her friends.”
Indigo cursed under her breath, seeing Frosty Orange pointing at them.
“What now?” Lemon asked.
“Before the rooster crows, we’ll disown Sour three times,” Sugarcoat muttered.
“Uncalled for, especially coming from you,” Indigo said, facing the policewoman approaching them. She had a professional, emotionless expression, although Indigo was pretty sure she was judging them quietly. Lemon, red-eyed and miserable, probably seemed the most trustworthy. Sugarcoat, on the other hand, couldn’t get a slight smirk off her face, which didn’t help her case. Indigo wasn’t sure about herself. She just felt sick, angry, and drained.
“May I ask you a few questions?” the policewoman asked.
“I’m afraid we won’t be very helpful,” Sugarcoat replied, speaking loudly and clearly. “We’ve seen nothing. We only came there after it was over.”
The policewoman nodded. “You were friends with those girls, right?”
“Yeah.” Sugarcoat stepped on Lemon’s foot before she could say something. “My name’s Sugarcoat, this is Indigo Zap and Lemon Zest. Well, mostly we were friends with Sour. Not exactly stable and if someone would push her to do that, that’d be Suri. Sour could be violent, sometimes, right?” She turned to Lemon. “She used to beat you.”
“Yeah, sometimes…” Lemon’s voice was barely above a whisper. “We were close, once…”
“And now they stopped talking to each other,” Sugarcoat said. “And that wasn’t the first time. Indigo, remember that girl who left school because of Sour?”
“Wha–” Indigo saw Sugarcoat’s gaze and shuddered. “Yes. I think there was such a case.”
“There’s probably something about it in school’s files.” Sugarcoat sighed. “Sour was fine, most of the time…”
“Were you afraid of her?” the policewoman asked.
“No,” Indigo replied. “She was fine.”
“Yes,” Lemon muttered.
“Suri probably provoked her, somehow,” Sugarcoat said. “I’d dig there… But well, Sour was kinda scary when she was angry.”
The policewoman looked at Sugarcoat and shook her head. “Surely. We’ll contact you later if we need anything more.”
Indigo could barely wait until she was out of the earshot. “What the hell, Sugarcoat? What was with all that ‘Sour is violent’ stuff?”
“She won’t go to prison if she’s nuts,” Sugarcoat replied. “Also, I said the truth.”
“I think she thought we’re nuts,” Lemon said, looking at the policewoman who was now talking to Varsity Trim.
“Let’s get out of here,” Indigo muttered. “I’m sick of this.”
Unperturbed, they went to Indigo’s car and soon left the school grounds. They didn’t even reach the nearest crossing when they saw a rusty van driving towards Crystal Prep.
“Isn’t that Sandalwood’s Mystery Machine?” Indigo asked. She waved at the van, which turned into the side street. Indigo followed it, stopping by the pavement next to it.
“Sugarcoat!” Sandalwood exclaimed, getting out of his van. “We’ve heard someone in Crystal Prep cut the bitch and I was worried about you…”
“Unfunny as always,” Sugarcoat muttered. “I missed you, fucker.”
“We came here as fast as we could,” Bulk said, struggling to get out of the car.
“What exactly happened?” Flash asked, pushing Bulk out and following him.
“Sour Sweet found out who got the photos of Sweet Leaf from Sunny,” Indigo replied.
“Is that person alive?” Sandalwood asked.
“She wishes she wasn’t.” Indigo sighed. “Anyway, it’s the last thing we want to talk about right now.”
“Yeah, screw that,” Flash muttered, looking at Lemon, who was trembling and sniffing. “We’d better get out to some calmer place…”
“I want to go home,” Lemon whispered.
“I can drive you home just fine,” Indigo said, shooting Flash a look.
“I’ll go with Sandalwood.” Sugarcoat smirked. “We got some explaining and catching up to do…”
Indigo looked at Bulk. “I’ll drive Lemon home and then I’ll join you.”
“I don’t know,” Lemon muttered. “I don’t want to be alone.”
Indigo sighed. “Okay then…”
Lemon got slightly better after they reached Sandalwood’s house. She was immediately sat on the sofa with a large mug of hot chocolate in her hand and some cookies within reach. Indigo looked at Sandalwood, not sure what was in the cookies, but she decided not to bring this up. Especially since there was a lot of other things to discuss.
“Why did Sunny even steal those photos…” Lemon sighed. “This would eventually happen…”
“Don’t ask us, it’s Sunny,” Sugarcoat replied. “I guess Sweet Leaf pissed her off. Sunny was never into those goody-two-shoes types…”
“Are you suggesting Sweet Leaf is one?” Bulk asked.
“Not after seeing her selfies…” Sugarcoat smirked, stretching her hands on her armchair. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, but–”
“If she didn’t get those photos, there wouldn’t be a problem…” Indigo said with an innocent expression.
“Oh, really?” Sandalwood asked, furrowing his eyebrows. “Because I think she can do whatever she wants.”
“I’m not saying she can’t, but one shouldn't be too surprised if they get their pubes singed when they jump over a bonfire naked." Indigo shrugged. “Because that’s what it was.”
“Not cool, Indigo,” Flash said. “It’s her photos and–”
“– her decision to hang out with horrible people,” Indigo muttered. “I mean, I have nothing against her and I think this whole situation sucks, but when someone still wants to woo Sour Sweet even after they learned what she did to Lemon, they aren’t quite right in the head, I think.”
“Sour wasn’t that bad…” Lemon muttered.
“When she wasn’t pummeling you for disagreeing with her?” Indigo rolled her eyes. “If she ‘wasn’t that bad’, Sweet Leaf had no chance with us.”
“Are you suggesting we’re all so horrible she couldn’t even comprehend that?” Sugarcoat asked. “Unpopular as it may seem, I like this idea.”
“Yeah,” Bulk said. “We all remember what you all did to Twilight.”
“We all?” Indigo asked. “Also, Twilight again? I thought we had that settled.”
Sugarcoat clapped her hands. “My girl. Once you state an unpopular opinion, you need to roll with it.”
Indigo dropped on the armchair. “Okay then. Sunny is an idiot, Sour is an abusive idiot, but Sweet Leaf is the biggest idiot of them all for not knowing when to quit. I sometimes don’t know that myself, but still, since Sunny told me about those pics–”
“Wait…” Flash raised his head. “You knew?”
“Sunny told me, in the most suspicious way possible.” Indigo shrugged. “Guess someone heard it and told Suri…”
“What!?” Lemon stood up, pouring hot chocolate all over the table. “You could’ve told us!”
Sugarcoat smirked. “Here we go…”
Indigo pushed the button way harder than she had to. The elevator started to descend while she took a few deep breaths. She felt she really needed a break. Over the last twenty-four hours, she managed to piss off Sandalwood, caused Lemon to have a fit of hysteria, got into an argument with pretty much everyone except of Sugarcoat, and now, in the hospital, she finally started to argue with Bulk. She briefly considered calling Sunny to tell her how much she hated her, but then she thought it wouldn’t help any of them.
The elevator reached the ground floor. When the door opened, Indigo froze, seeing Sweet Leaf standing in front of her. Her face was pale and mostly hidden behind her unkempt hair; she looked like she’d lost a few kilograms and not in a good way; she just looked thin and emaciated, especially when wearing dirty, creased clothes. She held a small bouquet of flowers, smiling nervously.
“Hi, Indigo,” she said. “How’s Sour? I came to visit her as soon as I could and–”
Indigo sighed and grabbed the front of Sweet Leaf’s t-shirt, looking into her eyes. “Why don’t you just fuck off?”
Indigo’s father knocked on the door of her room. After being permitted to get inside, he opened the door to be greeted with a sight of his daughter sitting on the floor over a piece of paper with a pencil in her hand.
“Impossible,” he said. “You’re spending the afternoon at home.”
“Get used to it, dad,” Indigo muttered. “My friends are rather unavailable.” She tilted her head and looked at the paper. “Hmm, I’m a genius.”
Lightning Zap looked at his daughter drawing and smirked. “You mean, you were as good at drawing in the first grade as you’re now?”
Indigo smirked. “Tell me it’s not the best picture of a guy with an exploding head you have ever seen…”
“Better than your early works.” Indigo’s father chuckled. “Although I remember the school’s psychologist was a fan of those too.”
“Until she saw Sour’s pictures,” Indigo replied. “I remember I got a ban on cartoons, though. The biggest trauma of my childhood.”
“Sorry for that.” Lightning Zap smirked. “Anyway, I was going to tell you that we’re planning a fishing trip with uncle Magnum this Summer and I wondered if you and Bulk would like to tag along.”
Indigo sighed. “I’d go, but I’m not sure about Bulk. You know, we kinda got into an argument…”
Indigo’s father looked at a couple of rather large objects drawn next to the guy with an exploding head and smiled. “Is it because of your unrealistic expectations?”
“No…” Indigo blushed, covering the doodles with her hand. “We kinda need some time off, I guess, before we decide if we want to break up or not.”
“Been there.” Indigo’s father nodded. “I wonder what happened to that girl later.”
“You don’t know?” Indigo asked, turning the paper to the other side and starting to sketch a picture of Sugarcoat getting hit by a train while Principal Cinch watched it from behind the bush, twirling a pair of large moustache.
“We’ve never spoke to each other again.”
“Thanks, dad…” Indigo muttered after her father left her room. She sat on the floor, leaning against her bed, and resting her face in her hands. It seemed that Sugarcoat was the only friend she had left, and she didn’t like this fact at all. A couple of times, she tried to speak to Lemon, but Lemon became pretty good at ignoring her; Indigo already decided that the next time she’d steal Lemon’s headphones to see what’d happen.
Indigo couldn’t quite get why Lemon kept behaving that way. Sure, as Sugarcoat informed her, Lemon and Sweet Leaf were often seen visiting Sour Sweet in the hospital, but Indigo felt there was more to this.
She groaned and stood up, tossing the paper on the pile of various, half-assed doodles in the corner of her room. Sugarcoat proposed her to go and visit Suri Polomare in the hospital, just to spite, as she put it, “all those idealist morons who think Sour had a right idea”, but Indigo didn’t feel like it. Mostly because she remembered how often she wanted to punch Suri herself.
She caught herself thinking of calling Bulk. This was also out of question. Whenever they tried to talk, one of them would eventually bring the topic of either Sour, Sweet Leaf, and Suri, or anything else they could argue over, like Twilight Sparkle. Twilight Sparkle! Sometimes, Indigo wanted to do something evil to her just to have something fresh to argue about.
Suddenly, Indigo realised that her mind was preparing an insane plan on how to steal Timber Spruce from Twilight. And that he was also a lumberjack, if she recalled correctly. The thought amused her enough to grab a phone and call Twilight.
“Indigo?” Twilight asked after picking up the phone. “How are you? Haven’t heard from you for a while.”
“Yeah…” Indigo muttered. “Listen, are you still with that sexy dude whose sister runs a camp?”
“Yes,” Twilight replied. “Why… Why are you asking?”
“Does he like to experiment?”
“Well, I once let him into my lab, but he seemed rather bored,” Twilight said. “By the way, we need to meet sometime. I heard what happened to Sour…”
“All of it?” Indigo asked. “Actually, nevermind. We can meet, I guess. The school is closed for a week, they brought us a psychologist, that kinda stuff. Principal Cinch was foaming at the mouth, but Dean Cadance calmed her down. With a tranquiliser dart, I think.”
“Oh,” Twilight squealed.
Indigo groaned, remembering that Sweet Leaf had the exact same tic. “Well… See you around, I guess.” She shrugged and ended the call.
She didn’t even manage to put her phone back on her bed, when she heard the guitar riffs of her ringtone. Rolling her eyes, Indigo looked at the screen to see that she had an incoming call from “Creepy Coatie”.
“What do you want?” Indigo growled.
“What’s up?” Sugarcoat asked. “Still saucing the taco all alone?”
“Actually, I’m just planning a threesome with Twilight and Timber,” Indigo replied, picking up the paper with the drawing of Sugarcoat getting hit by a train. This one was definitely worthy of finishing.
‘My girl…” Sugarcoat chuckled. “Anyway, before you do something you’re gonna regret later…”
“If you want me and Bulk to get together, stop right now.” Indigo sighed. “Or the school will be closed for another week, but this time you’ll be Suri.”
“See?” Sugarcoat asked. “We’re already making references to it. In ten years, we’ll laugh at this whole situation. Anyway, I just wanted to ask you if you’d play some soccer with me. The school may be closed, but the team needs to train.”
“No one’s gonna let us in,” Indigo said. “Besides, the pitch looks like a swamp.”
“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of getting dirty,” Sugarcoat muttered. “Just take your worst clothes. Besides, we already passed the hat around for whisky for the janitor.”
Indigo shook her head and smirked. “Okay then…”
When Indigo arrived to school—the janitor only waved at her—it turned out that quite a few of the members of school’s soccer team already gathered at the car park. She spotted Frosty Orange and Melon Mint, as well as Ginger Owlseye and her friend Cold Forecast, a thin reserve defender with perpetually frowny expression whom Indigo always thought to be a guy in disguise. Sugarcoat was also there, talking with a tall, lanky girl with glasses and long, curly hair.
“This is Varsity Trim,” Sugarcoat said when Indigo joined them. “She’ll be Sour’s replacement.”
“Can she play?” Indigo looked up. Varsity Trim was more or less as tall as Sour Sweet, although she was slightly hunched over and, looking at the way she moved, Indigo worried about her coordination.
“Well...” Varsity Trim smiled. “I have quite a few ideas on how to organise the team. For starters–”
“Frankly, I just thought we’d aim balls at her head and hope they bounce in your direction,” Sugarcoat muttered.
Indigo sighed. “How about replacements for Suri and Sunny?”
“No idea.” Sugarcoat shrugged, looking at the group. Several team members were missing; most notably Fleur and Lemon Zest. However, Indigo noticed some girls that weren’t in the team, like Garden Grove and Alizarin Bubblegum.
Indigo chuckled when she saw her – if Varsity Trim was a huge dork, Alizarin was a small one. Indigo immediately imagined her in Suri’s position. “Okay, we’ll see how it turns out…” she said.
“Do I get to pick first?” Frosty Orange asked.
Sugarcoat looked at Frosty and winced. “Why would we even let you pick?”
“Because I’m this team’s fourth best scorer and I’m usually a substitute,” Frosty replied. “Especially since Lemon didn’t bother to show up and Sour is in the nuthouse, so I’m, like, second best. Also, I wasn’t a close friend with her, so the school staff doesn’t give me funny looks.”
Before Sugarcoat could say something, Indigo smirked at Frosty. “Okay. I’ll let you pick first.”
“Sugarcoat,” Frosty said, sending Sugarcoat a nasty glare.
“Really?” Sugarcoat muttered, standing by Frosty’s side.
“Diwata.” Indigo didn’t waste any time to ponder. She already was a good striker herself, so choosing a goalkeeper seemed a natural thing to do.
“Orange Sherbette,” Frosty said.
“Melon Mint,” Indigo replied.
Frosty looked at the remaining girls. “Upper Crust.”
Indigo shrugged and pointed at Ginger Owlseye. “You.”
“Whatever your name is.” Frosty turned to a tall, blue girl with purple hair.
“Crystal Lullaby,” the girl replied, joining Frosty’s team.
Ginger Owlseye leaned to Indigo and whispered something into her ear.
“Yeah, sure,” Indigo muttered. “Cold Forecast.”
“Garden Grove.”
Indigo looked at the remaining players: Varsity Trim, Alizarin Bubblegum, and some short girl with dark hair who seemed more interested in the state of her fingernails than what was going on around her.
“Hey, you!” Indigo exclaimed. “What’s your name?”
“Zephyr,” the girl replied in a tone that at first seemed ethereal, but still having some sharp, unpleasant note in it.
Frosty’s gaze shifted from Varsity Trim to Alizarin Bubblegum and back. “Alizarin.”
“You’re making a mistake,” Indigo muttered, mostly to reassure Varsity Trim who was blushing and trying to become invisible, which was quite hard due to her impressive height.
They walked to the pitch. It was soaked with water, pooling in a few large puddles, including one right in front of the goal. Indigo noticed that quite a few of her teammates wore old tracksuits or t-shirts and boots with long studs. Zephyr was trembling slightly in her fancy football kit, probably belonging to some former student but still fairly new. The only problem was Varsity Trim, wearing old sneakers that’d offer no grip on the soggy pitch.
“Wait a minute,” Indigo muttered and rushed to the changing room. She came back after a while, bringing two pairs of boots.
“Hope you’re not superstitious,” she muttered when Varsity tried the bigger ones. “Their previous owner is currently in the nuthouse.”
“Cursed cleats, making the wearer insane,” Sugarcoat muttered. “Are you trying to write a horror story, Indigo? I’d be more afraid of getting athlete’s foot.”
“They fit,” Varsity said, tying the shoelaces. “More or less.”
“Okay.” Indigo looked at the other pair of shoes. “Sunny won’t need those anyway…” She tied the laces together and threw Sunny’s boots on the tall net at the end of the pitch, used to stop the ball after a missed shot. They hung from the top of it, swinging slightly in the breeze.
“If Sunny ever comes back, she’s gonna be pissed.” Sugarcoat shrugged. “We’ll worry about it later, though. Now it’s time for Crystal Prep’s first illegal game of seven-a-side soccer.”
Both teams took their positions in the field, trying not to slip. Diwata Aino cursed loudly when she realised that there was a large puddle right in her penalty area. It was still better than in the other team; they just started to argue on who should be a goalkeeper. Sugarcoat eventually resolved the argument by reminding everyone that Crystal Lullaby technically was the main team’s third goalkeeper, even though no one really cared about it as long as Fleur and Diwata were fine. Interestingly, Crystal was the one who protested the loudest.
Finally, the game started. Indigo took a position slightly behind Varsity Trim, wondering how the cooperation would go.
It soon turned out that whatever tactics they had, it soon went out the window. Smaller teams on a large pitch meant bigger gaps between formations and the muddy field didn’t make things easier. The game quickly devolved into chaos. Indigo tackled Upper Crust and tried to dribble it past Orange Sherbette, but she only managed to slip and almost fall. Before Orange could steal the ball, Indigo chipped it to Zephyr, who quickly passed it to Varsity Trim.
Just as Indigo expected, Varsity had lost her grace and agility back when the growth spurt had hit her. She managed to touch the ball with her foot, but it went past her, landing at Sugarcoat’s feet. However, Indigo couldn’t say that Varsity wasn’t ambitious – she immediately attacked Sugarcoat with a sliding tackle, throwing them both into a particularly large puddle of mud.
“What the hell?” Sugarcoat muttered, trying to get rid of the blades of grass stuck to her face. The front of her clothes was covered in mud; it was also in Varsity Trim’s curly hair and on the glasses she hadn’t taken off before the match.
“A free throw,” Frosty Orange said.
“From that place?” Indigo asked, looking at the swamp in front of her.
Frosty took the ball. “From the nearest dry place… Well, drier than the rest.”
Indigo nodded. Before her team could reorganise their ranks, Frosty kicked the ball towards Diwata’s goal. It went past the defenders, but before it reached the goal, it landed in the puddle, stopping in front of Diwata, who grabbed it and threw it to Melon Mint, despite Frosty’s protests. Melon passed it to Cold Forecast, who ran past Alizarin Bubblegum and lobbed the ball to Varsity Trim.
Varsity didn’t even have to jump to pass the ball with her head to Indigo, completely ignoring Garden Grove who tried to win the ball from her. Indigo rushed towards the goal, but suddenly she bounced off of someone, tripped, and fell face-first into the puddle.
“Missed me?” Sugarcoat asked, standing over Indigo. A second later, she was lying in the mud again after Indigo grabbed her legs.
“I’m pretty sure trying to drown a defender is a foul,” Frosty Orange muttered.
“She fouled me first.” Indigo stood up. “That’d be a penalty.”
“Are you sure the penalty area is here?” Upper Crust asked. “It’s not like the lines are visible.”
“Remember, ‘penalty area is here and I can punch you if you don’t agree’ is not an argument,” Zephyr said, grabbing Indigo’s hand before she could run towards Upper Crust. “Besides, it’s a free throw. I see a bit of the line here.”
“And I picked you to my team…” Indigo placed the ball in front of the wall consisting of Alizarin Bubblegum, Orange Sherbette and Frosty Orange.
“May I?” Zephyr asked.
“Don’t test my patience.” Indigo ran towards the ball and kicked it, curling it around the wall. It landed in Crystal Lullaby’s hands, but slipped from them, ending up in the goal.
“Slippery when wet,” Indigo muttered, getting back to her half of the pitch.
The game became even more chaotic. Indigo could swear she once got tackled by Ginger Owlseye. Ginger couldn’t be blamed, though; when everyone was wet and covered in earth and grass, it was hard to tell who was from her team and who wasn’t. Everyone looked like Swamp Thing, giving Indigo quite unsolicited memories. Meanwhile, Alizarin Bubblegum, despite being a scrawny, short-sighted nerd, somehow managed to kick the ball in Cold Forecast’s face, bringing her down.
“You get a yellow card for crappy puns,” Indigo replied, grabbing Cold Forecast and helping her up. “Hey, you’re not a guy, after all…”
“What?” Cold Forecast raised her eyebrows.
“She means you have boobs,” Sugarcoat said innocently.
“What?!”
Indigo blushed. “Long story…”
“She thinks you’re so ugly you must be a dude.” Sugarcoat shrugged and walked to her team.
Several minutes later, after all the fighting parties got tired of trying to murder each other violently and the game was resumed, it turned out that Sour Sweet’s shoes were, after all, too small for Varsity Trim. The others found out only when Varsity started to complain about water in her shoes and took one of them off, revealing that some of it was her blood.
“One thing is sure,” Zephyr said when Crystal Lullaby fainted upon seeing that. “She’s not Cinderella…”
“What is the score?” Indigo asked, watching as Garden Grove and Orange Sherbette rushed to help their goalkeeper.
“4:3, but I’m not sure, who is winning,” Sugarcoat replied. “Also, there were seven fights of various intensity, two red cards for people who are still playing, two black eyes, one sprained ankle, and everyone probably caught cold at this point.” She looked at the dark sky. It was just starting to rain.
“Who got a sprained ankle?” Indigo asked.
“Me,” Garden Grove muttered, limping towards Indigo. “And you should know that, given that you tried to break my foot.”
“I’m sorry.” Indigo smiled sheepishly. “Thought you were Cold Forecast…”
“Keep digging yourself deeper,” Sugarcoat muttered. “Also, we’d better go to the showers before Varsity gets an infection.”
They walked to the school, still arguing over who actually won the match and leaving large spots of mud on the floor in the corridor leading to the showers. Despite being cold, tired, and bruised, Indigo had a smile on her face. It was great to finally stop worrying over everyone and everything and just run in the mud with the others for a while.
“We’d better clean that later.” Alizarin Bubblegum looked at the floor. “Or the janitor won’t let us in again, no matter how much whisky we give him.”
“Indeed,” Indigo muttered.
After they took a shower and changed their clothes, Sugarcoat opened the broom closet with a hairclip and they grabbed the cleaning equipment from it.
“Whose idea it was to cover the floor and walls with crystal?” Indigo asked, shaking her head. She never really looked at the floor and only now noticed how cracked and scratched it was. “There must’ve been millions of people here…”
“I guess they had more money than reason,” Sugarcoat replied, wiping the mud with a mop. “Besides, it wasn’t always here. Not with the founders being Puritans.”
“I’ve heard it was commissioned by one of the principals in late nineteenth century,” Zephyr said. “My ancestor, apparently. He was at the Miskatonic University and thought crystals would protect us against evil forces.”
“Ah, that explains why all the magical accidents happen in Canterlot High.” Indigo chuckled.
“He went crazy and blew himself up in the chemistry lab.” Zephyr shrugged. “Guess it didn’t exactly help.”
Indigo nodded. “That probably required more cleaning…”
Sugarcoat sighed. “Indigo…”
“What? It’s been a hundred years ago.” Indigo shrugged and swung the mop around. “Also, to think about it… A guy blew himself up in our chemistry lab. I’ve heard some student hanged herself in the gym fifty years ago. Sour Sweet will probably go down in history, but she wouldn’t be first to do such a thing. And maybe those cracks and scratches in the floor were made by someone famous? Like, a president or–”
“We never had a president,” Sugarcoat said. “Just a couple of senators and one serial killer.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s a disgrace to mention senators and serial killers in one sentence.” Varsity Trim limped towards them. “For serial killers, that is.”
Sugarcoat finished cleaning a particularly big puddle of mud and threw the mop on the floor. “What is wrong with you today? Everybody seems to be an expert on serial killers and guys who blew themselves up…”
“I guess it’s the weather,” Indigo replied. “Hmm, to think about it, all that talk makes me hungry. Anyone’s up for tacos?”
Even though it was getting late, the mall was still full of people. Indigo was sitting at the table in the restaurant at the top floor with Varsity Trim, Zephyr, Frosty Orange, and Melon Mint, eating tacos and looking at Sugarcoat, who was at the pool table with Diwata Aino and Ginger Owlseye. The rest of girls decided that Mexican cuisine wasn’t for them and went home.
“I can play with my right hand, okay.” Sugarcoat shrugged and set the balls back on the table. “If you two think that gives you any chance of defeating me…”
“I’ve seen her playing snooker,” Indigo shouted to Diwata. “She could be playing with her legs and she’d still be better.”
Melon Mint took a bite of a burrito and looked at Frosty Orange. “So, when are we going to meet your boyfriend?”
“Never,” Frosty replied. “Or after we all finish school, maybe. I don’t know. I don’t want to bring it up now that Cinch got mad at everyone.” She looked at Sugarcoat and Indigo.
“You keep texting him.” Melon Mint looked at the phone lying on the table in front of Frosty. “He must be madly in love.”
“Yeah, until shit hits the fan and it’s all over,” Indigo muttered. She noticed that Frosty shuddered slightly when she said that. “I much preferred when we talked about exploding guys and stuff. I, for example, can draw guys with exploding heads really well.”
“Can you make the guy similar to Zephyr?” Varsity Trim asked. “We could say he’s that famous principal.”
Indigo smirked. “If someone has a pencil…”
“I think I have one somewhere…” Varsity Trim muttered, grabbing her purse.
“Wait a minute…” Indigo looked outside the restaurant, eyeing a girl wearing a hoodie and walking slowly near the glass barrier, looking at the ground floor There was nothing unusual about her at first, but then Indigo noticed that she was standing there for at least twenty minutes, resting herself against the barrier, her eyes focused on the floor below her. When she turned, Indigo caught a glimpse of familiar headphones hanging from her neck. Without a second thought, Indigo stood up and rushed to her, placing a hand on her arm.
“What?” The girl turned towards Indigo; she dropped her hood, revealing long, green hair.
“Hi, Lemon,” Indigo said. “Are you okay?”
“Why do you keep asking me that whenever you meet me?” Lemon asked.
“I’d say you have a plenty of reasons not to be okay,” Indigo replied.
Lemon shrugged. “Then why are you asking if you know?”
Indigo gulped, trying to find the right words before blurting out, “Well, we called you to ask if you wanted to play soccer with us… And maybe because you looked like you were about to jump, dunno.”
“What?” Lemon groaned. “I was just looking at the fountain. You really don’t need to try to help me or worry that I’d do something stupid. I’m not like that. Seriously, I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine…” Indigo muttered.
“Okay, I’m not!” Lemon rolled her eyes. “But that doesn’t mean you need to keep pushing me around, trying to cheer me up, get me to play with you, or whatever else you have in store for me! After Sunny, Sour, and Sweet Leaf, I’m done with you all! Done! You only make it worse!” She turned away, putting her headphones on. "You're horrible!"
“No!” Indigo stood in Lemon’s way. She was much shorter than her friend, but there was no way she’d let her pass. “Take off those headphones and listen to me. If you keep avoiding everyone, it won’t get better. You know it well.” She smiled softly. “Come with me. We have tacos and I was just about to draw Zephyr’s ancestor blowing his brain up.”
“Who is Zephyr?” Lemon asked.
“The only goth in the world that plays soccer,” Indigo replied.
Lemon sighed, before making a tearful smile. “Fine. Just this one time…”
“Chill out.” Indigo embraced Lemon and walked to the table with her. “We’ll talk about guys and random shit. It’s gonna be fine.”
Muffins groaned and looked at her shoes. Taking a shortcut through the soaked, muddy grass definitely wasn’t her best idea. She was already longing for a day when she could ride her bicycle to school. Right now, it was so rainy that she was afraid she’d crash at the first corner. She ran towards the school and hid inside, bumping into Sunset Shimmer, who stood next to the door, and knocking her down.
“Hello,” Muffins said. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah…” Sunset got up. “I was just looking at this girl over there…”
Muffins smirked. “Never knew you were into that… And my shoes are all wet.”
“What?” Sunset asked. “No, I’m watching her because the last time a girl in a hoodie was hanging around the statue, it ended with Twilight making– Muffins, what are you doing?”
“I’m not gonna spend all day in wet shoes.” Muffins looked at a pair of rollerskates she just produced from her backpack.
“Why do you carry rollerskates with you?”
“Why not?” Muffins shrugged and sat on the floor to put the rollerskates on.
Sunset sighed. “Nevermind. Anyway, that girl is kinda suspicious. I don’t know her and she’s just sitting there on the postument, despite the rain.”
“Oh, that’s Lemon Zest. I can see her hair from under the hood.” Muffins walked towards the door as close as she could without actually getting outside. “Lemon! Come here! You’re gonna get cold!”
Lemon raised her head and looked at Muffins who was waving her hand at her. After a while, she slid off the pedestal and ran to the building, joining Muffins and Sunset. Her clothes were soaked and she was shuddering before Sunset handed her her jacket.
“What are you doing here?” Muffins asked. “Do you want to join our school?”
“Nah, I’m just taking a walk,” Lemon replied. “I’d rather get back to school, but it’s still closed after–” She sighed. “Well, anyway, I’m fine. Guess I could’ve waited for the weather to improve, you know…” She chuckled.
“Are you sure?” Sunset stood in front of Lemon and looked at her. “May I?” When Lemon nodded, she touched her hand, closing her eyes.
“Wow…” Lemon muttered when Sunset let out a muffled scream and staggered, pulling her hand back. “Are you a psychic?”
“Yeah… Something like this…” Sunset whispered. “I’m fine,” she said to Muffins who shot her a worried look. “It’s not as bad as reading drunk Rainbow Dash, you know…”
“I may have borrowed Sour Sweet’s pills from her sister in the morning,” Lemon muttered. “She also drove me here.”
“Anyway, Sweet Leaf isn’t here,” Sunset said, taking a few deep breaths. “Also, I know much more about Bulk Biceps than I’d ever like to know and I feel like eating tacos now.”
“Yeah, we talked with Indigo yesterday.” Lemon blushed. “Sweet Leaf’s not here? Too bad. I heard she keeps hanging out with Sour Sweet, but I wouldn’t want to go there.”
“I know.” Sunset nodded. “But at least it seems your other friends are nice… I guess?”
Lemon shrugged. “I wouldn’t want to bother them too much. They may not like this. Or they’d want something in return.”
“If they’re really your friends, they won’t,” Sunset replied. “I know you don’t trust people after that whole thing with Sour, but from what I saw, I think Sugarcoat and Indigo are fine.”
“You think so?” Lemon sniffed and wiped her eyes. “Maybe I should go to them. I don’t know.”
“Yeah, I think it’s a good idea,” Sunset replied, giving Lemon a reassuring pat in the back. “Good luck.”
“Thanks.” Lemon smiled just a little bit. “I’ll catch a bus or something… See you, girls.” She opened the door and ran across the square, trying to shield herself from rain.
Muffins watched her for a while before turning to Sunset. “Have you ever thought about starting a cult?”
“What?” Sunset arched an eyebrow, looking at Muffins. “Why would I–”
“You can read people’s minds,” Muffins replied. “And you can get them to do what you want. That’d make you a great cult leader. But yours would be a good one, not like those evil cults where–”
“No, I’m not starting a cult,” Sunset muttered. “Sunny Flare already wanted me to take over the world with her.”
Muffins shrugged. “On a side note, how come you’ve never read my mind before?”
“Because I still didn’t get over Pinkie’s mind.” Sunset sighed. “And Lemon’s mind… No, that wasn’t fun…”
“You’ve seen more than you wanted, right?” Muffins asked. “Don’t worry, my mind is much better!” She grabbed Sunset’s hand, causing her to back off, her eyes wide.
“Sweet Flash Sentry on a bicycle…” Sunset whispered.
“Yeah…” Muffins blushed. “That got kinda mixed in my head…”
Sunset shuddered. “He doesn’t exactly look like that. I’ve seen it when we were together.”
“I have a vivid imagination,” Muffins replied. “Also, there’s one thing you haven’t seen…”
“What now?”
Muffins smirked, pointing at the door. “Lemon stole your jacket…”
The rain kept banging against the roof and since Sugarcoat still didn’t have to go to school, she decided to spend the whole day in her basement. Indigo would probably put either a workshop or a gaming computer in there, but Sugarcoat was above that. The basement of her house was neatly furnished, with leather armchairs, a wine cabinet, and a snooker table in the middle. Her father called it the smoking room, even though he never smoked.
Sugarcoat didn’t smoke either. The most cancer-inducing of her numerous hobbies were watching reality shows and reading liberal newspapers. Currently, however, she wasn’t doing any of these things, standing over the table with a cue in her hand and trying to find a way out of an elaborate snooker in which the cue ball was trapped between the cushion and the green ball, with pink and blue blocking the access to the sole red ball standing on the opposite side of the table.
Sugarcoat calculated all the angles and rotation in her head before putting her hand on the table and aiming. That was why she preferred snooker over chess; in chess, she’d just do whatever her mind was telling her. In snooker, first she had to come up with a solution and then make sure her body would follow – especially since she set up the whole situation in such a way that it was hard for a left-handed player to line up a shot.
She struck the cue ball which bounced off the top cushion and travelled down the table, striking the right cushion and then left, few inches above the pocket. It narrowly missed the blue ball, rebounding off the bottom cushion, and struck the red ball, sending it towards the rail. Sugarcoat nodded. She didn’t pot the ball, but her imaginary opponent wouldn’t either. Looking at the situation at the table, she realised they’d be able to send the cue ball back in the place behind the green ball, thus making her get out of the snooker again.
“Just great,” Sugarcoat muttered. She aimed at the ball and did just that, barely scraping the red ball with a cue ball, which rolled back to the top of the table.
She was about to think of the solution, when she heard a doorbell. Her parents weren’t home, both of them working in their dental clinic. Or at least Sugarcoat hoped so, as her parents recently started talking about having a second child. They got an unexpected support from grandma Zuckerlöffel, who said that since Abraham could have a son at the age of one hundred, then Sweet Tooth could father one at the age of forty-one. Sugarcoat was less enthusiastic about that, but she was only religious on holidays and even then usually for an hour or so.
The ringing continued. Sugarcoat sighed, put the stick on its rack and walked up the creaking stairs, muttering curses under her breath. It kept raining and Sugarcoat started to regret leaving the stick in the basement – the visitor, after all, could always be a serial killer. Sugarcoat briefly thought of going to the kitchen to grab some knife, but then she heard the doorbell again. She rolled her eyes and walked to the door.
“What do you want?” she asked, opening the door and seeing a girl in a soaked hoodie and a black, leather jacket. “Umm… Lemon?”
“May I come in?” Lemon shuddered. “It’s cold outside.”
“Sure, why not,” Sugarcoat muttered. “Whose jacket is that?”
“Sunset Shimmer’s,” Lemon replied.
Sugarcoat raised an eyebrow. “Please, tell me you didn’t murder her and you don’t want my help in hiding the body…”
“No, I didn’t,” Lemon said. “Guess I’ll have to give that jacket back to her. She told me to spend more time with my friends.”
“In such a weather?” Sugarcoat shook her head. “You’re gonna get sick… Come with me, I’m gonna find you something…”
Five minutes later, Lemon Zest was sitting on an armchair in Sugarcoat’s smoking room, wearing an incredibly pink and incredibly fuzzy bathrobe, clashing horribly with her skin tone. Nevertheless, she was combing her hair and looking at the tea and biscuits standing on a tray in front of her. “Why are you wearing that vest?” she asked Sugarcoat, who stood by the snooker table, putting the red balls in a triangle.
“I play snooker. Training or not, I prefer wearing appropriate clothes,” Sugarcoat replied. “A waistcoat and a bowtie are in the rules.”
“Ah.” Lemon nodded. “So that’s why Indigo said you’re an elitist cu–”
“Yeah.” Sugarcoat frowned. “I’m pretty sure she said that.”
“Yup.” Lemon grabbed a biscuit. “Anyway, I’m here because Sunset Shimmer told me that my friends would help me.”
Sugarcoat nodded slowly. “And you went to me?”
“Yes!” Lemon exclaimed.
“I’m not the master of empathy,” Sugarcoat said. “But let me get this straight: your mother died last year, your girlfriend turned out to be an abusive psychopath, the girl you hoped would be your girlfriend prefers your ex, and now you only have Indigo and me left. And you went to me because Indigo would just throw you in mud and hope you’d get better, am I right?”
“More or less.” Lemon sighed. “Though I didn’t want to bother Indigo because she recently broke up with Bulk.”
“Like she cares.” Sugarcoat rolled her eyes and put the stick on the table. “So, generally, your life turned into a blues song. What do you want me to do? I don’t think I can fix any of this.”
“You could just listen to me,” Lemon replied. “You know, nobody ever listens to me.”
Sugarcoat shrugged. “It’s hard to, given that you usually put your headphones on and sit in a corner, not saying anything. Don’t give me that look, that’s how I see it. How do you want us to listen if you don’t talk?”
“Now I want to talk,” Lemon whispered.
Sugarcoat sat on the armchair on the other side of the table with tea and biscuits and rested her hands on her laps. “I listen, then.”
Lemon shrugged, blushing. “Umm… well…”
Sugarcoat lowered her head, staring at Lemon from above her glasses. “Yes?”
“Well, you already said that,” Lemon muttered. “And I’m so done with it all that I don’t even care anymore… I’m not sure I can even care.”
“So, what exactly is your problem?” Sugarcoat asked. “I don’t care about many things and I feel fine.”
“Yes, but it’s you.” Lemon shrugged. “And it’s not like I don’t care, I just don’t really… Like, feel anything either. And that sucks.”
“Well, I’m not the one to help you with that,” Sugarcoat replied. “Tell your therapist that your pills don’t work and get some new ones. And actually take them, unlike Sour Sweet. And don’t take anything else… I know you sometimes like to put your hands on meds that aren’t yours.”
Lemon furrowed her eyebrows, crushing a biscuit in her hand. “You don’t have any advice other than ‘take more pills’?”
Sugarcoat sighed. “I stopped believing in psychiatry when I heard Sour Sweet’s parents were shrinks. What I believe in is biochemistry.” She pointed at her head. “It’s all a matter of rewiring and regulating a few things.”
Lemon groaned. “Is that all you have to say? It sounds like I’m a broken washing machine or something.”
“I told you I wouldn’t be much help,” Sugarcoat muttered.
“I hate you, Sugarcoat.” Lemon stood up. “It was a bad idea to come here.”
“I told you so.”
“It’s never your fault, huh?” Lemon rolled her eyes. “It’s always ‘I told you so’, ‘you are dumb, expecting me to help you’, ‘you’re stupid, Lemon’, and so on.”
Sugarcoat raised her finger. “Well, to be honest–”
Lemon took a deep breath and smacked Sugarcoat in the face, knocking her glasses off. “I’m done with your honesty!”
“Get out.” Sugarcoat picked up her glasses and looked at a slightly bent frame. “I give you two minutes to get your clothes and get out before I break the cue stick on your head. How’s that for rewiring?”
“I didn’t feel like staying in your house any longer anyway.” Lemon turned back and walked towards the stairs.
“You’re no better than Sour Sweet,” Sugarcoat muttered. “You ask for help while you don’t really want it. Hey, even punching people is there…”
“Shut the fuck up, Sugarcoat!” Lemon walked up the stairs and slammed the door.
Sugarcoat stood there for a while, staring at the door, before turning back to the snooker table and taking a few deep breaths to calm herself down. Then she looked at the door again, as if making sure Lemon wasn’t coming back.
Slowly, Sugarcoat relaxed. She nodded and a grim smirk adorned her face. “And yet she feels something…” she whispered.
The school still seemed awfully quiet, but Indigo welcomed the return to the classroom with a sigh of relief. Walking down the corridors, she was sure that she wasn’t the only one who felt the break only made everything worse. Especially since after the first few classes, all the thoughts of Sour Sweet evaporated from her mind, replaced by the things she was learning.
During the second lesson, she noticed that Sugarcoat had a black eye. She smirked, wondering who she’d pissed off enough to punch her. While Indigo was no detective, she started to suspect Lemon Zest – if only because Lemon seemed awfully excited, barely managing to sit in one place. Besides, Indigo was sure only her and Lemon were allowed to attack Sugarcoat without getting a beating in return, and she didn’t remember punching Sugarcoat recently.
It was only during the break, when Indigo had an occasion to approach Sugarcoat, who was creeping in some dark corner, observing Lemon from the safe distance.
“Hey Coats,” Indigo said. “What are you thinking about?”
“Lemon Zest,” Sugarcoat replied. “She’s talking with Melon Mint and Zephyr.”
“Everyone can talk with them, I guess.” Indigo shrugged. “Did Lemon try to fix your face, too?”
“Your incisiveness never ceases to surprise me,” Sugarcoat muttered. “How did you know?”
Indigo smirked. “It wasn’t that hard. Well, at least it was easier than what I’m about to do.”
“And what is that?” Sugarcoat asked, furrowing her eyebrows.
Indigo took a phone from her pocket and looked at it. “I wanted to meet Bulk and I’m trying to come up with some message.”
“I’d start with using capital letters and proper punctuation,” Sugarcoat muttered. “Your texts are outrageous in that matter.”
“Oh, shut up,” Indigo replied. “Maybe something like, ‘Hey dude, we should totally go out sometime. No talking about all that shit with Sour, just fun, we need some.”
Sugarcoat looked at Indigo’s phone and furrowed her eyebrows. “I see some progress. There are commas there, but you also need a semicolon.”
“There’s only one person who uses semicolons in texts, and she’s standing right in front of me.” Indigo tapped the ‘send’ button. “There. Now you’ll be unable to sleep because of a missing semicolon.”
“And you’re in for a semicolonoscopy,” Sugarcoat replied.
“Sounds painful.”
Sugarcoat smirked. “It’s not that bad. I mean, Sandalwood and I–”
“I don’t want to hear the end of this story.” Indigo winced, backing off.
“The end was rather tight.” Sugarcoat let out a chuckle. “But seriously, if you ever try to go that way, go and get something to cleanse your colon…”
“I really hope that you’re still talking about punctuation…” Indigo shuddered and looked at her phone which had just beeped.
“I can’t sleep because of your semicolon, you won’t sleep because of my colon,” Sugarcoat said. “What did he write?”
“He asks where we’d go,” Indigo replied. “Bowling alley, I guess.” She typed the message. “You can go with us too.”
“No, thanks,” Sugarcoat replied. “You’d better ask Lemon. She could use some entertainment that doesn’t involve punching people.”
Indigo nodded and turned to Lemon, who was sitting by the opposite wall. “Wanna go bowling, Lemon?”
“Sure.” Lemon muttered without raising her head.
“Okay then.” Indigo grabbed her phone to write another message.
When Indigo and Lemon reached the bowling alley, Bulk was already there, accompanied by Muffins. Indigo didn’t expect her to be there, but she didn’t mind; her heart fluttered when she saw Bulk, much to her surprise. She’d never show it, but she still missed him, if only a bit.
“Hello,” Indigo said, approaching Bulk and Muffins slowly. “What’s up?”
“Same old.” Bulk shrugged. Indigo noticed that he didn’t hug or kiss her, like he used to do. “Muffins wanted to tag along when she heard you’re bringing Lemon.”
Muffins nodded. “Doing fucked-up is always funnier with someone else.”
“Not in a mood, really,” Lemon muttered. “Also, I’m not sure what’s fucked up about bowling.”
“Then you haven’t seen me play.” Muffins chuckled, walking to Lemon and embracing her. “Girl, I once nearly got banned from this place…”
They walked into the building, mostly filled with students who wanted to play some bowling after school, though Indigo also spotted four guys that seemed to always be there, just like old couches and tables. She also saw the tall girl who was working there and whose name was Allie Way – not that Indigo remembered it, she just had a tag with her name on it.
Allie was just escorting two Canterlot High girls to the exit. Indigo knew them, but she couldn’t quite recall their names; she just remembered they played piano and that at least one of them was in the school’s soccer team.
“Don’t even think of showing up here again,” Allie muttered when the group walked past Indigo and her friends. “You’re a threat for yourselves and the others!”
“Hey!” the minty green girl exclaimed. “I’m a lesbian, I’m not good with balls, okay?!”
“Lyra, shut up,” her friend muttered. “We play soccer. You can do it without hitting anyone’s head…”
“That’s another thing!” Lyra shouted. “It’s like, a different kind of–”
“Oh, shut up.” Allie slammed the door behind the girls and turned to Indigo who only now noticed that the girl got pregnant since she’d last saw her. Allie noticed her gaze. “If you want to make a bowling ball joke, go on. I’m sure it’ll be as funny as the last seven thousand times I heard them.”
“Well, that’s not the most fortunate t-shirt…” Indigo pointed at the t-shirt with a green bowling ball Allie was wearing.
Allie chuckled. “Well, yeah… Most of my clothes got too tight, somehow. Anyway, my spine is soon gonna give up because of those two nutjobs, so I hope you’ll forgive me if I tell you to hurry up with paying, okay?”
“Sure.” Indigo grabbed her wallet.
“Have fun while I try not to think of my swollen feet…” Allie muttered when they changed their shoes and walked towards the lanes.
“Back pain, swollen feet…” Indigo shook her head when Allie left them to sit behind the counter and rub her legs. “I don’t wanna get pregnant, like, ever.”
“Well, she’s pretty tall,” Bulk said. “You have a lower centre of gravity and shorter spine.”
Muffins nodded and turned to Lemon. “You and me, however…”
Lemon shrugged. “I’m too sad and too gay to have kids…”
“Gay?” Muffins smirked. “That only means you’re, as Lyra put it, bad with balls. Some dexterity required with getting pregnant, but it’s quite possible. Unless you find a shorter girlfriend, then you can dump it on her and become a daddy…”
“Slow down, Muffins,” Bulk said. “Don’t get her all confused. Or pregnant.”
“Yeah.” Indigo grabbed a bowling ball. “I guess we’re all too young for that anyway.”
She threw the ball down the lane. It rolled, curving gently between the first and third pin, knocking them all down. “Huh,” she muttered. “There are things you never forget.”
“I once had a dream that I forgot how to ride a bicycle.” Muffins patted Lemon’s back. “Have you ever forgotten something?”
Lemon shrugged. “I wish.”
The walls of the visiting room were painted light, pastel pink. In theory, it was supposed to have a calming effect on patients, but Sour Sweet always hated it. It didn’t mean much, these days; after being admitted, she decided to follow the doctor’s orders and swallow whatever pills she was given without spitting them out. As a result, she couldn’t muster anything more than a mild irritation.
“What’s up?” Sweet Leaf asked. She was sitting on the other side of a round table, staring into her eyes. “How was your day?”
“Sweeten Sour was here,” Sour Sweet replied. “She’s an idiot.”
“Why do you think so?” Sweet Leaf asked, resting her hands on the table. “She at least visits you, right?”
“Guess my parents are busy convincing everyone I’m crazy so I don’t end up in prison.” Sour Sweet shrugged. “Sweeten brought me a book.”
Sweet Leaf nodded. “That’s… nice, I guess.”
“One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest is not the most fortunate choice, though.” Sour sighed.
“Oh.” Sweet Leaf raised her eyebrows.
“It wasn’t that bad.” Sour shrugged. “Now, how about you? Are your–”
“Some people just can’t give me a break.” Sweet Leaf shook her head. “But I just kinda stopped caring about it. Interestingly, it’s the girls who are the worst.”
“Maybe they’re jealous?” Sour Sweet groaned, hearing her own voice. Even when she tried to sound more caring, it was still a dull monotone. Sweet Leaf shuddered and lowered her head, her hair covering her face.
“You okay there?” Sour asked. “I’m sorry if I sounded insulting… I think.” She looked around, realising that those few people who were in the visiting room were staring at her. She thought of getting up and breaking someone’s nose so they’d stop, but the thought quickly disappeared in the medication-induced cloud covering her mind.
“No, it’s fine.” Sweet Leaf swallowed her tears. “No, it isn’t. You shouldn’t be here. None of this should’ve happened. You should be outside, not drugged out of your mind...”
“You wouldn’t like my mind when it’s not drugged,” Sour replied. “Ask Suri if you don’t get why.” She frowned, trying to recall the look on Suri’s face just before she threw her across the corridor but only succeeded in getting a headache. “I’m tired.”
Sweet Leaf sniffed her nose and stood up. “I’ll better leave.” She trembled. “See you tomorrow, Sour.”
Muffins grabbed a bowling ball and weighed it in her hand. Everyone around her backed off when she took a few shaky steps towards the lane. She most definitely had none of Indigo’s grace, throwing the ball straight and nearly breaking a finger. It was, nevertheless, rather effective; the ball rammed into the pins like a sledgehammer, leaving only one of them standing.
“Not bad.” Indigo nodded.
“A friend taught me how to play.” Muffins looked at the pinsetter’s rake removing the pins from the lane. “He said there were too many variables for him to spin effectively, but someone told him to throw it straight.”
“How many more friends I haven’t met do you have?” Bulk asked.
“Well, this one had to go back to England,” Muffins replied, taking another ball. She threw it at the sole remaining pin and knocked it down. “I kinda had a crush on him, but he was a few years older and never really noticed.”
“I know that feeling.” Indigo nodded. “I once had a crush on Shining Armor. I still find that dumb.” She turned to Lemon. “You also had a crush on someone weird, I think?”
Lemon blushed. “That actress who played Daring Do in 1990s TV series.”
“Eww…” Indigo shook her head. “Saturday morning re-runs and cheap special effects.”
“I didn’t care about it much, back then.” Lemon smirked sheepishly. “Is it my turn?”
Bulk looked at the electronic scoreboard. “It is.”
Lemon got up from the couch and took one of the bowling balls. She looked at Indigo and weighed the ball in her hand just like her. She then rushed towards the lane and threw it straight. Unlike with Muffins, however, it went slightly off-course, knocking only three pins on the right side of the rack.
“Crap,” Lemon muttered under her breath.
“No worries, we all started somewhere,” Indigo said. “My sister would occasionally take me to the bowling alley when I was a kid, but I really sucked back then.”
“I remember she brought you to school on our first day.” Lemon took another ball and threw it without aiming for too long, knocking all but two pins.
“Oh yeah.” Indigo smiled. “Those were good times.”
A large muscle car drove smoothly down the street, waking up everyone who was still asleep. The driver, a teenage girl with blonde hair and wearing a denim vest, looked at her little sister, who kept watching the interior of the car with wide eyes.
“Where did you get that car?” Indigo asked. Her hair was tied into a ponytail and her new school uniform was looking simply divine, as her mother would put it. Unfortunately, her mother was currently out of town, and her dad was playing one of the pre-season games in his football team, leaving her on Lightning Dust’s head.
“I borrowed it,” Lightning replied, slowing down next to the cinema to check out the posters. “Hmm, that’s a new one… I don’t think they’re gonna let you in the cinema with me…”
“The Wicker Man,” Indigo read. “You can always smuggle me into the cinema.”
“I’d rather not get caught again.” Lightning shrugged. “I’ll see it with Gilda and I’ll tell you if it’s worth it, okay? Also, you have school or something.”
“I don’t want to go to school,” Indigo muttered.
“Who wants, kid?” Lightning Dust shrugged. “Shouldn’t be hard for you, though. Find some friends, kick some guy in the nuts, draw circles in your notebook, and you’re set.”
The car drove through the school’s gate. Lightning Dust pushed the accelerator, causing the engine to roar, scaring some kids off. She drove to the car park and pulled the handbrake, causing the car to spin, leaving rubber marks on the concrete surface.
“Okay.” Lightning opened the door. “Let’s see what’s up.”
Indigo walked towards the school following her sister. She saw a big, black SUV standing by the edge of the car park and smiled, seeing her friend from the kindergarten, Sunny Flare, getting out of it with her mother.
“Hi, Sunny!” Indigo exclaimed. “What’s up? I hope we’re in the same class.”
“Yeah.” Sunny chuckled. Her mother looked at Lightning Dust, sighed, and shook her head before walking with Sunny and Indigo towards the school.
“Cadance?” Lightning asked, patting the back of a pink-skinned woman in a blue outfit. “Huh. You became a teacher after all.”
“And I’m pretty sure you’re not allowed to enter this school’s premises, Lightning,” Cadance muttered, frowning.
“Chill out, Caddy.” Lightning pushed Indigo forward. “I’m bringing my little sis to school, see?”
“Good morning,” Indigo said.
Cadance sighed. “Okay. You can leave her here like all the parents do and then you’re free to do whatever you want. Outside.”
“Sure, whatever.” Lightning Dust rolled her eyes. “Sorry, Indy, I’m not welcome here. Have fun and be awesome.” She turned back and walked towards the car. Indigo and Sunny Flare followed Cadance to the part of the building dedicated to younger students.
“What’s going on with her?” Indigo asked.
“I have no idea,” Sunny replied.
“This school isn’t kind for those who got kicked out of it.”
Indigo turned back to find the source of that high-pitched, screeching voice, and saw a short girl with glasses and long, pale hair. “Who the hell are you, four-eyes?” she asked.
“My name is Sugarcoat,” the girl replied. “And you must be Lightning Dust’s sister. Everyone heard about what she did last year…”
“Really?” Indigo walked to Sugarcoat. “And have you heard about opening a can?”
“What can?” Sugarcoat asked.
Indigo punched the girl in the stomach, causing her to fall and lose her glasses. “A can of whoop-ass, that’s what.” She kicked Sugarcoat who was trying to get up. “Don’t you ever dare talking shit about my sister again.” She turned to Sunny Flare. “Let’s find our class. Hope we won’t end up with this loser.”
They walked away, leaving Sugarcoat whimpering and trying to catch a breath.
Lemon Zest jumped in place, humming a happy tune under her breath. Her mother just drove her and her neighbours’ daughter to school, but she couldn’t stay there for much longer. She just walked with them to the school building, where a teacher showed them the way to the classroom.
“I have to go to the doctor,” Lemon’s mom told her after they found the right classroom. “Sour’s mom will pick you up later.”
“A doctor? Are you okay, mom?” Lemon asked.
“Yes, I’m fine.” Lemon’s mom hugged her. “Take care, Lemon.”
“Bye, mom!” Lemon turned to Sour Sweet. Even though they were neighbours, she didn’t know her very well; she spent most of her days outside while Sour usually sat at home. Lemon wasn’t sure why; she knew Sour’s younger sister, Sweeten Sour, better, but Sweeten Sour was none the wiser. According to her, Sour was often sick and couldn’t get out much.
Lemon looked at Sour Sweet. Although pale, tall and thin for her age, Sour Sweet seemed rather healthy. She sat by the wall, ignoring other kids talking and playing around her. Lemon found it weird; she knew that Sour also had a brother, but he was four years old, so he didn’t count.
“What are you looking at?” Sour Sweet asked. “Not that I mind, but hey, stop doing that.”
“I’m sorry!” Lemon exclaimed. “I’m just kinda excited, you know. It’s our first day at school and all that.”
“We’d rather be at home,” Sour Sweet replied, looking at the children around them. “Mom wanted to have us homeschooled, totally not because she thinks we can’t be around others, but dad didn’t agree.”
“Umm…” Lemon shrugged. Sour Sweet kept using a lot of words and Lemon wasn’t very good with them, especially the long ones. “Why’d she do that?”
“We have no idea.” Sour Sweet replied. “I think she called our teacher to tell her we had a seizure once.” She made a brief pause and spoke in a slightly different voice, “But I think she knows it was caused by meds. And stress after a beauty pageant.”
Lemon arched an eyebrow, parroting an expression her father was often making. “What is a seizure?”
“I don’t know, the other one had it,” Sour Sweet replied.
“Who?” Lemon asked.
Sour Sweet gave her a blank stare. “Nevermind.”
Lemon had a few more questions to ask, but they were approached by a long-haired girl with glasses. There were trails of tears on her face, but she didn’t seem to mind. “Excuse me,” she said. “Have you seen a short, blue-haired girl? I need to destroy her entire life.”
Lemon furrowed her eyebrows. “I want to go back to the kindergarten…”
“Why is that?” the girl with glasses asked. “I’m Sugarcoat, by the way.”
“Lemon Zest. This school is just weird,” Lemon replied, looking at Sour Sweet. “And everybody is saying a lot of words.”
“You don’t listen enough.” Sugarcoat turned to Sour Sweet. “And who are you, Lemon’s friend?”
“We don’t want to be here.” Sour Sweet sighed. “Although you seem fine.”
“Her name is Sour Sweet,” Lemon said.
“Don’t bother,” Sour Sweet muttered. “We don’t think we’ll be here for long…”
“Really?” Sugarcoat shrugged. “I think it’s gonna be twelve years or so. Do people even live for that long?”
Lemon Zest shook her head. “I have no idea.”
“Yeah, those were fun times,” Lemon muttered. “Although it took a while before you and Sunny joined me, Sugarcoat, and Sour.”
“It’d take shorter if Sugarcoat didn’t decide to be smug every time I said or did something dumb,” Indigo replied. “Which was quite often, if I recall correctly.”
“Well, I wasn’t a bright kid either.” Bulk took a bowling ball and threw it down the lane. It knocked down several pins, as well as, judging by the sounds, some part of the machinery behind them.
“I’d say it carried over to this day.” Indigo chuckled.
“Said the girl who can’t use semicolons in texts,” Bulk replied.
“Great. Sugarcoat has a fan.” Indigo rolled her eyes. “Though it’s kinda funny how we became friends after all. She was getting on everybody’s nerves.”
“It took a while…” Lemon nodded. “I became friends with Sunny sooner, but Indigo and Sugarcoat wouldn’t get together for years…”
“Actually, it was only a few months.” Indigo smiled sheepishly. “Sugarcoat remembers such things and it was apparently March. First day of Spring, even.”
Sugarcoat sat in the corner of the pitch, blinking and trying to figure out what was going on. She knew what’d her parents tell when they’d see her. Over the seven months in school, they had to buy her six pairs of glasses and twelve new uniforms due to how often her blunt responses caused other students to resort to violence. Now her blazer was torn, and so was the shirt. Also, one of the lenses in her glasses was broken, so she couldn’t exactly see what was happening. Still, what she saw was baffling.
Peacock Plume lay on the ground, clutching to his nuts. His friend, Lemonade Blues, groaned and spat out a few of his milk teeth. Between them, Indigo Zap just pulled out a handful of Ginger Owlseye’s hair and smacked her in the face. Ginger tried to slap her, but Indigo was faster; she ducked and rammed into Ginger’s chest with her head – something she’d first seen at the beginning of Summer vacation, when her dad took her and Lightning to a World Cup final in Berlin.
Ginger managed to grab her and they both fell into the mud. For a moment it seemed like Ginger would gain the upper hand, but suddenly she jumped back, screaming and waving her leg with fresh bite marks.
Indigo stood up and wiped mud from her clothes, smearing it even more. “Get out!” she shouted. “Only I can beat her!”
Ginger clenched her fists, but a quick look at her two friends and at Ms. Cadance running to them caused her to reconsider the tactics and retreat to a strategic position under the bleachers.
Indigo smirked, walked to Sugarcoat and helped her up. “Don’t look at me like that,” she said. “Did you shit your pants, or what?”
“Unlike some other people, I can make it to the toilet,” Sugarcoat muttered. “Are you gonna beat me again?”
Indigo looked at Sugarcoat’s torn and dirty clothes. “That’d be no fun. Also, we’re in trouble anyway.” She turned towards Ms. Cadance with the most innocent smile on her face.
“And then I had to write ‘I won’t be starting fights with other students’ a thousand times,” Indigo said. “I could hardly write, not to mention counting to a thousand.”
“You tell us that at least three times a year,” Lemon said.
“Those scars will never heal.” Indigo sighed.
“Just like the one from a climbing accident?” Bulk asked.
“Oh, you’ve seen it too?” Lemon chuckled. “Well, of course you did…”
Indigo gave her a stern look. “I’m more worried by the fact that you’ve seen it.” She turned to Bulk. ”Besides, I was just thinking… Just to be clear: are we cool now? I mean…”
Muffins froze and looked at Lemon. “Do you want to get something to drink?”
“No, not re–” Lemon paused, seeing the look in Muffins’ eyes.
“You want to,” Muffins whispered, waving her hand.
“Well…” Bulk backpedalled. “What do you mean, Indigo?”
Indigo raised her eyebrows, feeling chill run down her spine. “No, wait… What do you mean? I just want to know if we’re you know, cool… And back together.”
“Cool, yes,” Bulk replied. “But I thought you wrote to me because you wanted to be friends…”
Lemon freed herself from Muffins who was trying to pull her towards the bar. She walked between Bulk and Indigo with a smile on her face. “Interesting coincidence, huh? Just don’t take that too seriously, Indy… We all make mistakes, right?”
“Shut up, Lemon.” Indigo furrowed her eyebrows. “Did you… Did you give up on me? Like, did you really think I broke up with you just because–”
“– you yelled at him in the hospital and stormed off, scaring poor Sweet Leaf on the way,” Lemon said. “I’d think it was breaking up and Sugarcoat keeps saying I’m hopeless when it comes to relationships…”
“I’m not talking to you, Lemon.” Indigo’s voice didn’t tremble; there wasn’t any trace of emotion with it. “You gave up on me… Just like that…”
“Well, Lemon’s right.” Bulk sighed. “I swear, I didn’t know yelling and running away doesn’t mean breaking up in your language, so don’t be mad at me, okay?!”
Indigo lowered her head. “I’m not mad. Just…” She turned back and walked away, sniffing.
“What does she mean now?” Bulk asked Lemon. “Just in case she comes up with something different again…”
“Oh, you just punctured eighteen years worth of ego and expecting people to like her because she’s not her sister,” Lemon replied. “Don’t worry, she’ll get better.”
“I can still hear you!” Indigo shouted.
“Come back to them and let’s play bowling,” Muffins said, walking by Indigo and giving her a bottle of cola. “I mean, seriously, that pregnant one just told me that if you two don’t quit your drama–”
Indigo rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay. We’re getting kicked out.” She walked back to Bulk and Lemon, wiping tears from her face. “It’s my turn now, right?”
“You know…” Bulk said. “We can still be together…”
Indigo threw the ball much harder than necessary. “Just because you don’t want to make me sad?” she asked, watching as the ball went off course, ending up in the gutter. “Never.”
The lesson was underway; Sugarcoat was focused on the book in front of her, reading about string theory. She just gotten to the unification of the five versions of the superstring theory and was on her way to M-theory, when she realised that someone kept watching her.
“Lemon,” she whispered, her eyes still focused on the pages. “If you didn’t disturb me, I’d probably reach enlightenment and come up with a way of tying all those theories together and create the theory of everything.”
“Forty-two,” Lemon replied. “There, problem solved. Now, can we talk about Indigo?”
“After the lesson,” Sugarcoat replied. “Physics is more interesting than what’s going on with her, even though on the basic level it’s all about bodies attracting each other.”
“The bodies are no longer attracting each other.” Lemon sighed.
“Oh, chill the fuck out,” Sugarcoat hissed, hiding her face behind the book. “I really liked you when you were a kid and could be confused with a complicated enough word. Also, I’d like to remind you that you hit me last time we met and unlike some other people, I’m not cool with being someone’s punching bag.”
“You’re trying to push all my buttons at once, huh?” Lemon rolled her eyes. “Try harder.”
“I see you took my advice, though,” Sugarcoat muttered. “At least that’s what I guess from that sudden change of attitude.”
“You wish.” Lemon crossed her arms and turned away.
Sugarcoat smirked and went back to reading about physics.
The physics lesson was over, though Sugarcoat was still thinking about it when she wandered down the corridor to another classroom. Groups of students passed by her, but she couldn’t exactly see them as people anymore; more like elementary particles. Zephyr was a charm quark – charming, but still third most massive of all the quarks. Lemon was most definitely a strange quark. Sugarcoat thought she got weird recently, not to mention that just like strange quarks didn’t naturally occur in matter, Lemon was not quite a student one’d associate with Crystal Prep.
Fleur and her friends were various assorted leptons – they came in six flavours and didn’t undergo any strong interactions. As far as Sugarcoat knew, all of them were pretty shallow, even Fleur and her relationship with her British boyfriend. On the other hand, Celery Stalk was definitely a muon – according to Alizarin Bubblegum, he was full of energy and could penetrate deeper than any other particle.
Sugarcoat turned and faced Indigo, who was standing by the wall, her head slightly lowered. “And there we have an electron,” she muttered. “Small and negative.”
“What is wrong with you?” Indigo asked.
“There’s no such thing as right or wrong in physics,” Sugarcoat replied. “Also, you went bowling with Lemon Zest and you thought no one would know what happened there? Seems that you messed up big time.”
“I didn’t,” Indigo replied. “He basically friendzoned himself, somehow. Did he really think I broke up with him? Or was he just looking for an occasion to finish it?”
“Now you’re reading too deep into it,” Sugarcoat said.
“Even if I do, he humiliated me!” Indigo exclaimed. “He said I keep yelling and running away and that somehow made him think–”
“Currently, you’re yelling a lot.” Sugarcoat rolled her eyes. “If you say something rude and walk away from me, I’ll start thinking that he was right.”
“I can also break you some bone,” Indigo growled.
Sugarcoat raised her finger. “I suggest a better solution. After the soccer training, we’ll go to the school’s gym because there’s no way you’ll meet Bulk there. Then, you can vent as much as you can...”
Sugarcoat lowered the physics textbook she was reading and looked at Indigo. The large headphones Sugarcoat wore drowned most of the noise, replacing it with an upbeat rap song, but thanks to her somewhat mediocre lip reading skills, she could easily tell that Indigo was yelling a lot of things about ducks, hits, and runts. She raised her hands in boxing gloves and unleashed another barrage of blows on an innocent punching bag, pausing only to wipe sweat from her forehead. Occasionally, she’d hit the bag with her elbow or knee, sometimes finishing the series with a roundhouse kick.
“Good,” Sugarcoat whispered. “Let the hate flow through you…”
Indigo stood in front of the punching bag, clenching her fists and panting. She screamed and charged at the bag and began pummeling it with a series of well-placed hits, culminating with a few right hooks, followed by grabbing the bag and headbutting it. This was, however, the definite end of the fight – Indigo staggered and dropped on the ground, rubbing her forehead and gasping for air.
“Idiot.” Sugarcoat took the headphones off. “Sorry, Indigo, seems that the training equipment won another battle. It’d go better if you didn’t knock yourself out.”
Indigo’s response was slightly incomprehensible due to her panting, but Sugarcoat managed to catch a suggestion to jump naked on a cactus, as well as an insinuation regarding her relations with stray dogs.
“Quite,” Sugarcoat said, standing above Indigo. “So, are you done now?”
Indigo nodded and sat on the floor. “More or less. And now I know what to do.”
“That is?” Sugarcoat asked.
“I’m not gonna fight.”
“With Bulk?” Sugarcoat shrugged. “Well, he’s slower than you and probably fights like a cow, but it’d take a while before he’d even feel anything.”
“I don’t mean it literally,” Indigo said, crossing her arms. “I just don’t feel like fighting for him either. Like, who needs all those stupid relationships anyway?” She got up. “Seriously, I’m just, like, so done with it all. I already see the good sides of just getting a cat and chilling out watching some TV show.”
“You hit yourself harder than I thought,” Sugarcoat deadpanned, shaking her head.
Flash groaned, rubbing his arm. The new training program would probably do wonders to his biceps in the near future, but for now, his muscles hurt. Taking a few deep breaths, he started to stretch his arms in front of the mirror. Next to him, Bulk threw the dumbbells on the rack with a sigh.
“What’s up?” Flash asked. “Aside from you and Indigo, that is.”
Bulk frowned, looking at him. Flash shrugged in response. “One doesn’t simply go bowling with Muffins and hope she doesn’t spill the beans.”
“I see you two are talking again,” Bulk muttered. “Go on and maybe she’ll give you another chance.”
Flash shook his head. “And that’s what I wanted to tell you, actually. Muffins is fun and all, but too crazy for me. To be together, that is. Being friends is alright, but that’s it.”
Bulk cracked his fingers before grabbing the dumbbells again. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“You should never stick anything in crazy, you know,” Flash said. “Trust me, I know what I’m saying.”
Bulk chuckled. “Yeah, because you have so much experience…”
Flash smiled sheepishly. “Well, actually…”
Flash stormed into the room, furrowing his eyebrows. “What is this?” he asked.
Sunset rolled on her bed and looked at the huge bag of some half-dried plants Flash was holding. “Umm… I’m sorry, I must’ve left it–”
“– on the couch.” Flash groaned. “I never knew you were smoking pot, Sunset.”
Sunset raised her eyebrows. “Smoking pot? You’re an idiot, Flash.”
Flash crossed his arms, approaching Sunset. “Then what is it?”
“My lunch.” Sunset snatched the bag from Flash’s hand, took a handful of dry straws from it, and started to munch on it. “What? You’ve never ate hay?”
“Umm…” Flash scratched his chin. “No?”
“You don’t eat hay?” Sunset shrugged and took another bite. “Strange. Everyone in my family ate hay.”
Flash nodded slowly, backpedalling slightly. “Remind me, where are you from?”
“Hollywood,” Sunset replied. “I already told you about it, like, hundred times.”
“Ah, that explains a lot.” Flash opened the door. “I’ll go and take a short walk. Or maybe a longer one.”
“Sure, no problem.” Sunset lay down on her bed, still munching hay.
“And then it turned out she wasn’t from Hollywood. She just heard the name and saw on the map that it was very far from Canterlot City,” Flash said.
“Well, she’s definitely not from here.” Bulk shrugged. “But I still don’t get this. Indigo isn’t crazy. Not hay-eating crazy.”
“She may not be,” Flash replied. “It’s the environment she’s in. All those guys in Crystal Prep are crazy and she, like, embraced it. She thinks it’s all about her. No wonder, given that they’re all a bunch of egoists…” He sighed. “I kinda feel bad for Lemon Zest. She’s not like them and I’d really like to–”
“She’s gay,” Bulk muttered. "Even you must've heard about it by now."
“Too bad.” Flash shook his head. “But anyway, it’s not really surprising she took it that way.”
“Well, it seemed she wanted to bury the hatchet, no matter what Muffins says,” Bulk said. “But then she kinda flipped…”
“See?” Flash nodded. “She didn’t know what to do, so she started yelling at people, as usual. It’s not rocket science.”
“You heard that from Sandalwood, didn’t you?” Bulk asked. "Sounds like his opinion about her."
“So what?” Flash grabbed the kettlebell and winced before managing to lift it. “In this case, he’s right. Since that whole thing with Sunny, Sour Sweet, and everyone else, she's not the most stable person around. In fact, none of them is.”
“I'd like to remind you that Sandalwood is still with Sugarcoat… I think.” Bulk shrugged. “That makes him the one to talk, huh?”
“You know him,” Flash said. “Do what I say, not what I do.”
“Oh yeah…” Bulk chuckled, grabbing the dumbbells.
“On the plus side,” Sugarcoat said, “you didn’t take a cat from a shelter yet.”
Soon after they left the gym, they somehow ended up in the shopping mall. Sugarcoat, always quick to find herself in the situation, called Sandalwood, who soon joined them. Much to his displeasure, though, it seemed that they went there to do, well, some shopping.
Normally, Sandalwood wouldn’t mind, especially since Indigo, unlike many girls he knew, seemed to choose things quickly rather than spend endless hours trying on different outfits. However, instead of shopping for normal clothes, Indigo and Sugarcoat decided to buy some bras and Sandalwood suddenly found himself exposed to strange looks given to him by other customers. Besides, he was sure that the cashier was suspecting him of stealing catalogues. It wasn’t quite exactly groundless.
“Seriously, it’d be more exciting if you tried them on,” Sandalwood muttered.
“You can wait for us outside,” Indigo replied. “Besides, I need to grab a few…”
“I’d rather grab boobs, but to each their own,” Sandalwood muttered, earning a nasty glare from Sugarcoat.
Indigo rolled her eyes. “Seriously, it seems that all of mine got tighter.”
Sugarcoat chuckled. “You’re finally growing, then. Soon you’ll no longer have to look for bras in kids’ section.”
“That’s almost as funny as when you first said that,” Indigo muttered, turning to Sandalwood. “What are you looking at?”
“It’d really be much more interesting if you two were trying them on,” Sandalwood replied. “I mean–”
“You can do that with Sugarcoat.” Indigo smirked. “You’re not my type and neither is she.”
“Yeah, we all know your type,” Sandalwood replied. “Also, knowing Sugarcoat, she’d make me try on bras.”
“Eww…” Indigo winced.
“And now I know what we'll do later. But that’s not everything,” Sugarcoat said. “Too bad you probably didn’t get to try it with Bulk now, but–” She whispered the rest of the sentence into Indigo’s ear. With each word, Indigo’s eyes widened more, until she backpedalled and turned to Sugarcoat, blushing.
“Why’d I do that?” Indigo shuddered. “Stop corrupting my innocent mind!”
Sugarcoat smirked. “Never…”
While Sandalwood was suffering the pains of bra shopping, Bulk and Flash settled for a more interesting way to spend the afternoon. After getting back from the gym, they ended up in Bulk’s house, supposedly to do some homework. The plans, however, didn’t survive the meeting with Featherweight.
“Too bad Indigo isn’t here.” Featherweight clicked the mouse button. On the screen of his computer, his elite soldier just lit Flash’s character on fire, causing him to run around, flailing his arms. “She actually posed some serious challenge.”
“You can always invite her, I guess.” Flash shrugged, seeing that someone else just ended his soldier’s suffering by blasting him with a grenade launcher. “Bonus points for making Bulk lose his–”
“Oh, quit it, Flash,” Bulk muttered. “If you focused on playing as much as you talk, you wouldn’t die fifteen times in last five minutes.”
“I’d totally put out the flames, if it wasn’t for that other dude…” Flash muttered.
“Hardly a dude.” Bulk aimed at the soldier with a grenade launcher and shot in his head. The speakers filled with high-pitched screams that, surprisingly, weren’t in Russian.
“You cowardly goat! Stop hiding there and fight me like a real man!”
“Hello, Muffins,” Bulk said to the microphone.
“How did you know it was me?” Muffins asked.
“You use ‘The_Muffin_Queen’ name in every game you play,” Bulk replied. “While we’re at it, can you do me a favour and shoot my brother? He needs more challenge since Indigo and I–”
“Oh, man, don’t get me started,” Muffins said. “You fucked up big time.”
Bulk sighed. “But you wasted no time telling everyone about that.”
“Can you two get a room?” another player asked.
“Indeed.” Muffins’ freshly respawned character shoot at the complainer with the grenade launcher, missing him and ruining a part of the nearby wall. “But seriously, man, I told you not to get me started, but it seems that I started myself.” She finally buried the complainer under debris and shot a few more grenades around. “You guys are crazy! And I don’t even like this game!”
“You just shoot my leg off,” Flash muttered, staring at the screen of his laptop. Another grenade blew his character to bloody pieces.
“You know what?” Muffins asked. “We should totally try again.”
“First time we tried, you tried judo on me,” Flash replied. “Now you’re shooting me with a grenade launcher. I fear to think what’ll happen later.”
“A dinner with my mom would be the most logical consequence,” Muffins replied, off-handedly shooting Featherweight, who was trying to sneak to her with his flamethrower.
Flash turned to Bulk. “Hmm, weren’t we supposed to do homework?”
“Deal with it.” Bulk chuckled.
“This also applies to you,” Muffins muttered.
“What, dinner with your mom?” Bulk asked.
“Nah,” Muffins replied. “You and Indigo should at least apologise to each other.”
“Yeah, do that,” said the recently-respawned player Muffins had buried under the ruins. “Or she won’t stop…”
Bulk sighed. “First Indigo would have to talk with me…”
“Don’t worry, I got this!” Muffins exclaimed, casually sending the other player flying with her grenade launcher, causing his character to be blown off the map. "Just give me some time..."
Indigo groaned, rolling off the rowing machine. Somehow, she still couldn’t reach her best time at the two kilometres distance; no matter how she tried, she was still thirty-sixth in her age group, according to the ranking available on the website of the company which produced the rowing machines.
She was just sitting and waiting for her heart rate to calm down, when someone patted her back. Indigo trembled and turned her head to see Muffins, who smiled at her.
“Found you, at last,” Muffins said. “I’ve been looking for you for the past two weeks.”
“You could’ve called,” Indigo replied. “Also, I was kinda busy training and stuff. We play the second match soon, remember?”
“Do tell,” Muffins muttered. “Everyone is throwing balls at me, except of those I’d actually want to.”
Indigo winced. “That’s not the mental image I needed.”
Muffins smirked, but her expression quickly turned serious again. “Well, about that, actually…”
“I’m not doing anything involving you and balls.” Indigo shuddered. “You know, you could learn too much about the way I shoot.”
“Pinkie Pie already made a video compilation of your shots,” Muffins said. “And an app. Anyway, I recently talked to Bulk.” She looked at Indigo and continued, “No, I’m not trying to get you back together, but I think you should talk and like… apologise to each other.”
“Maybe when he comes to me instead of you.” Indigo sighed. “I know you’re trying to help, but we don’t need it, really…”
“I’m sorry,” Muffins muttered, lowering her gaze.
“It’s fine,” Indigo replied. “Just don’t help us, okay? Sweet Leaf tried to help everyone and look what happened.”
“Yeah, that’s why I only take such photos with an analog camera and store the films in my basement, locked under–” Muffins cleared her throat. “You don’t need to know that.”
“I most certainly don’t,” Indigo muttered. “Anyway, I’m kinda done training, so if you wait for me, I can drive you somewhere…”
“No, thanks,” Muffins replied. “I finally took my bicycle for a ride.”
Despite Muffins’ claims, when Indigo went out of the gym, she found her next to the bicycle stand, staring at an empty space. She held a broken padlock in her hands and her face was slightly red.
“What’s up?” Indigo asked.
“That cunt…” Muffins muttered.
“Who, me?” Indigo raised her eyebrows. She tried to recall the last time she heard Muffins cursing, but she couldn’t.
“What?” Muffins turned to her. “You stole my bike?”
“No, of course not,” Indigo replied.
“Ah, good.” Muffins’ hand trembled. “Because someone just did!”
Suddenly, she unleashed a long-winded rant, filled with swears to the brim. Even Indigo, who was never really innocent when it came to cursing, felt the need to cover her ears. To her surprise, she found out Muffins could be really creative; she’d most definitely overtaken Sunny Flare in that department. Indigo decided that she had to include “butt-fucked kumquat twat” in her repertoire, if only for the phonetic challenge it presented.
“Okay,” Indigo muttered when Muffins was done. “How did your bike look like? Maybe we can find it.”
“Red, somewhat scratched, rear brake hardly working, white fringes on the handlebars, no rear suspension so it feels like taking it up the–” Muffins paused. “Well, it also has some stickers with jinxes.”
Indigo raised her eyebrows. “What jinxes?”
“You know, ‘may my bike carry you to hell if you steal it’ and so on,” Muffins replied. “There’s also one saying, ‘Property of Guðrún Múffinsdottir’.”
“Who?” Indigo asked.
“What?” Muffins shrugged. “I’m half-Icelandic. This half also includes the name, but don’t bother trying to learn it. No one does.”
“Okay,” Indigo replied. “I think your bike is distinctive enough for us to find it.”
“Oh, I’m sure.” Muffins produced her phone. “Actually, after the last time I had to kick some punk who stole my bicycle, I put a GPS tracker on it. It’s about two miles from here and moving.”
“This should be easy.” Indigo smirked. “We take my car, nail the thief, and get your bicycle back.”
“Oh, this sucks,” Indigo muttered. After driving for a mile, they got stuck in the traffic jam – a typical consequence of all the people finishing work at the same time and trying to get back home. Indigo banged her fist against the steering wheel and groaned.
“Don’t worry,” Muffins said. “Seems that the thief stopped too.”
“Maybe they need to eat something. Or take a dump,” Indigo replied.
“We could catch them with their pants down, then,” Muffins muttered.
The traffic light changed to green and Indigo managed to drive a few metres closer to the intersection. Still, there was no sight of Muffins’ bike.
“So… Múffinsdottir,” Indigo said. “Your dad is from Iceland?”
“Yeah,” Muffins replied. “Múffin Cupcakesson is his name.”
“Wait, shouldn’t you also be called Cupcakesson, then?” Indigo asked. “We could call you Cupcake.”
“It doesn’t work like this in Iceland,” Muffins replied. “My name means that I’m Guðrún, daughter of Múffin. If I had a brother, he’d be called Múffinson.”
“Ah.” Indigo nodded slowly. “I’d be called Indigo Lightningson, then?”
‘“Lightningsdottir,” Muffins replied. “Unless you feel you’re a dude.”
“Hell no,” Indigo muttered. She pushed the accelerator and managed to cross the intersection. The traffic on the other side was somewhat lighter; at least she was able to drive without stopping every once in a while.
Muffins looked at her phone. “We’re getting close.” She raised her head. “Where is it?”
“I can’t see it.” Indigo pushed the brake, stopping the car in front of some kid who decided to run on the other side. “Besides, I need to watch out.”
“Over there!” Muffins exclaimed, pointing at the bus stop on the other side of the road. Indigo looked there and saw someone carrying a similar bicycle into the bus.
“Follow that bus!” Muffins shouted.
“Sorry for the tyres, dad,” Indigo muttered. Ignoring the horns of the cars behind and in front of her, she yanked the handbrake, turning the car around in place. Then she pushed the accelerator, trying to catch up with the bus.
“If someone calls the police on us, I’ll tell them it’s your fault,” Indigo muttered.
“Don’t worry, this old lady on the pavement liked it,” Muffins said. “Or not. She saluted us with her middle finger.”
“Screw old ladies,” Indigo muttered under her breath and took a sharp turn. “At the nearest stop, get out of the car and try to get on the bus.”
Unfortunately, it was easier said than done. It wasn’t, however, Indigo’s fault, but rather the town’s mayor, of all the people. A few years before, trying in vain to reduce traffic jams, the main roads were rebuilt, including bus lanes. Which meant that Indigo and Muffins were now stuck behind some old, decrepit car while the bus gained some advantage over them.
“You must be kidding me,” Indigo muttered.
“Yeah,” Muffins replied. “For someone who used to steal cars, you drive like a pansy.” She pointed at a car that shamelessly used a bus lane to overtake them.
“My sister stole cars, not me,” Indigo said, looking into the rear mirror. A moment later, she pushed the accelerator and rushed down the bus lane.
“What bus number is it?” Muffins asked.
Indigo sighed. “Can’t you look yourself? I’m busy not getting us killed.”
“If you haven’t noticed, I’m slightly cross-eyed.” Muffins blushed. "When I want to look that far, it gets a bit blurry."
“You are?” Indigo looked at Muffins. “Hmm, indeed. I think it’s number twelve.”
“Not good,” Muffins muttered.
“What’s not good?” Indigo asked. “I don’t use buses much.”
“Twelve turns right somewhere here,” Muffins replied.
“Oh shit!” Indigo turned the steering wheel. The car swerved to the right, barely managing to avoid crashing into a lamppost. Indigo took a deep breath, trying to catch up with the speeding bus. Slowly, she relaxed and smirked; they were directly behind it and there was a stop nearby.
“Go!” Indigo exclaimed when the bus stopped. She stopped her car too, in order to let the bus passengers get to the pavement, as well as to let Muffins out of the vehicle.
Muffins ran to the bus and jumped inside, the door closing behind her. Indigo expected her to come back soon after a brief fight, but then the bus drove away, with Muffins still on board. Indigo shrugged and followed it slowly, trying to see what was going on inside.
After a minute or so, Indigo became slightly disappointed. It didn’t look like there was a fight inside, no one was thrown out of the window, and Muffins didn’t triumphally jump out of the bus on her bicycle, surrounded by flames and explosions. In fact, the bus just stopped on the next stop and Muffins got out of it. Without her bicycle.
“We messed up,” Muffins said after joining Indigo in the car. “It’s either the wrong bus or the thief got off when we were busy trying to follow it.”
“Damn,” Indigo muttered. “What are we gonna do now?”
Muffins looked at her phone. “Seems that my bicycle is moving towards the park now.”
Indigo looked around. They were surrounded by tall, brick building of former factory that were either changed into clubs or lofts or were slowly falling apart. She was pretty sure they weren’t far away from the place where Lemon Zest lived. However, it meant they were rather far away from the park. Not that it was an obstacle.
“Which side of the park?” Indigo asked, turning into a side street in order to turn back.
“Near the northern entrance,” Muffins replied.
Indigo winced. “What is near it, then?”
“Remember Halloween? It’s that stage,” Muffins replied.
Indigo smirked, remembering last Halloween, but her smirk quickly faded. Muffins looked at her and shrugged. “There’s also a farm near there, on the other side of the river.”
“I know, I was just thinking,” Indigo replied. “As for the farm, when we were kids, we tried to steal apples from there, but a big, sexy guy told us that his grandma would shoot us.”
“Big Mac?” Muffins smirked. “Sandalwood was right, then. You do have a type.”
“He was happy to inform me of that last time we went bra shopping,” Indigo deadpanned, taking a quick left turn. “No, it doesn’t make more sense in context.”
“I know,” Muffins replied. “It’s Sandalwood, after all.”
“Yeah, I guess him and bras doesn’t seem that out of place.” Indigo looked around. “Hmm, seems that we’re close to the park. I actually know a parking lot here.”
“Oh, I bet you know,” Muffins said. “After Halloween…”
Indigo froze, looking at Muffins, who raised her eyebrows. “I mean, you came here by a car, didn’t you?” she asked.
“Yeah.” Indigo sighed with relief. She parked the car and gazed at the trees surrounding them. “Where’s your bike now?”
Muffins tapped the screen of her phone. “Somewhere near the stage, actually.”
“Good.” Indigo put her hand under the seat of her car and produced a collapsible baton. She got out of the car and swung the baton, opening it. “Let’s get it back, then.”
“Yeah, let’s do that.” Muffins took one of her socks off and grabbed her wallet, putting the coins inside of the sock. “Do you have any spare change?”
“Nah, I’m somehow always out of cash.” Indigo shrugged.
“Okay.” Muffins smiled. As they walked slowly towards the stage, crouching through the mud and last year’s grass, Indigo noticed that she was picking stones on their way to put them in her sock.
“Don’t you think it’s too much?” Indigo whispered, pointing at the sock.
“Maybe.” Muffins shrugged. “I hit the last guy who stole my bike in the thigh and he limped for a week. But I apologised.”
“Shh,” Indigo whispered. They were behind the scene; Indigo stood by its wooden wall and started to slowly crouch along it, followed by Muffins. A layer of mud was muffling their steps. Indigo took a peek behind the corner and showed one finger to Muffins, along with a gesture she hoped looked like a bicycle. Muffins responded with something resembling a rabbit hand shadow.
Indigo rolled her eyes and showed Muffins to walk around the stage to attack the thief from both sides. Muffins responded with raising her eyebrows. Indigo shook her head and waved her fingers, imitating steps. Then she made a wide, round gesture. Muffins nodded and walked behind the stage to circle it.
Only after she left, Indigo realised her mistake. Sure, they could approach the thief from both sides, but synchronising the attack without revealing themselves too early was impossible. Sure, Indigo could call Muffins, but she wasn’t sure if her phone was on mute. She was just thinking whether she should start mimicking some bird noises to alarm her, when she heard a shout.
“Oh my God, she just ran in,” Indigo muttered, running in front of the stage.
The bicycle stood there, propped against the barrier. The thief, a teenage girl wearing an oversized sweater, was sitting on the stage, smoking a cigarette. Or rather, she was doing so just a minute earlier, because Muffins just smacked her in the calf with her sock, causing her to get on her feet, howling in pain.
“Ruby?” Indigo asked. “Long time no see.”
“Ah, Bulk’s girlfriend…” Ruby smirked. “Tell this weirdo to get out. What is wrong with her?”
“You stole her bicycle, that’s what,” Indigo replied. “But it’s your lucky day: we’ll take it and forget about the whole thing, okay?”
Ruby scratched her head, looking around. “Well…”
Suddenly, she jumped off the stage. Her landing was far from graceful; her injured leg bent under her weight and she fell into the mud. She recovered quickly; Muffins only managed to graze her back with her sock when Ruby ran past her, rushing towards the bicycle. Indigo chased her, but Ruby managed to get on the bicycle and ride away, leaving Indigo slipping in the swamp.
“That inbred little shit!” Indigo exclaimed, grabbing a handful of mud and throwing it at Ruby. “Normal people give up if they have no chance to win…”
“It seems she at least had a chance to run,” Muffins replied. She ran past Indigo and chased Ruby down the narrow, slippery path running across several hills. Indigo got up and ran with her.
“You can’t be serious,” Indigo muttered, panting. “She’s too fast!”
“Yeah, and she’ll go faster…” Muffins smirked and spun her sock like a shepherd’s sling, throwing it at Ruby. It hit her in the back, causing the bike to swerve. Ruby, however, managed to regain control over it. She looked back and started pedalling harder.
“That’s no use…” Indigo took a deep, laboured breath. “She lives in the trailer park. We can go there. She’ll get back home eventually.”
Muffins slowed down. “No need to. The road goes down from there and it’s pretty wet, so she’ll probably try to slow down.”
“You think we can catch her with that head start?” Indigo asked. Suddenly, she heard a scream and the sound of something heavy hitting wooden sticks and breaking some of them – something akin to a drunken elephant collapsing into a straw hut.
“Oh, I forgot to mention that rear brakes are rather bad,” Muffins said. “You have to be careful with the front one and use both of them.”
Her words were followed by a loud splash.
“Seems that you also forgot there’s a river nearby,” Indigo muttered.
They found the bicycle in the first cluster of bushes growing on the steep river bank. Aside from a new scratch on the frame, it was mostly intact. Muffins, however, shuddered, seeing the skid marks in the mud, as well as a path of broken and torn bushes leading to the edge of the small cliff. “Do you think she died?” she asked.
Indigo shrugged. “We’ll see.”
Carefully, she walked towards the edge of the cliff. She found a few pieces of Ruby’s greenish sweater on the branches, as well as a pack of wet and squished cigarettes. Then she leaned over the edge and looked down.
“What a surprise,” she muttered. “If you’re born to hang, you’ll never drown.”
“Oh, you can just go and fuck yourself,” Ruby replied. She was hanging from a branch of some decrepit weeping willow growing just above the river, a bit away from Indigo. It seemed like she fell into the water, but managed to catch the branch before getting carried with the stream. Her clothes were dirty and ragged; she also lost a shoe and her face and left hand were covered in bleeding scratches.
“I should go and leave you here now, but I’m not a total bitch,” Indigo said. “Hang in there, I’ll get some branch to pull you up.”
“Come on.” Ruby shuddered. “I can’t feel my legs.”
Indigo froze. “Did you hurt your spine?”
“No, it’s fucking February and I just took a bath in the river.” Ruby groaned. “Hurry up, you moron!”
Indigo turned to Muffins. “Can you see any long sticks here?”
“I got one!” Muffins replied, walking towards the edge of the cliff with a stick.
“It’s too short!” Ruby exclaimed. “But you can throw it here. A few more and I’ll make a fucking raft out of them!”
“You can always climb higher,” Indigo said while Muffins started to search the nearby bushes for a bigger stick.
“This fucking tree will break if I try!” Ruby shouted.
Muffins walked to Indigo, dragging a large tree branch. “This should do.”
“We’ll see…” Indigo grabbed the branch and lowered it down the cliff. “Try to catch it and we’ll pull you up.”
Ruby muttered something under her breath and reached for the branch, swinging the one she was on. After a few attempts, she grabbed the branch, clinging to it.
“Okay now,” Indigo muttered, pulling the branch up. Muffins grabbed it too, helping her. Ruby rested her feet against the cliff’s side, climbing up.
Suddenly, the branch snapped in half. Indigo gasped, falling on her back. A loud splash caused her to immediately jump to her feet. She leaned over the edge of the cliff to see Ruby swimming against the stream, still holding a piece of the branch and screaming. Despite her attempts, the river was carrying her away.
“Shit,” Indigo muttered, turning to Muffins. “Get on your bike and try to keep up with her. I’ll get the car.”
Muffins nodded and hopped on her bike. “Near the farm, the river is not as deep. I’ll try to catch her there.”
“Okay.” Indigo ran towards the car park while Muffins rode along the river bank. She was on her last legs when she reached her car. Adrenaline left her and her hands shook, making it hard to start the engine.
Indigo took a deep breath and finally managed to put the key in the ignition. She pushed the accelerator and left the parking lot with screeching tires. Her hands were still trembling, but at least she was now able to think; for some reason driving a car was always calming her down.
Speeding towards the farm, she realised that Muffins and her alone may not be able to pull Ruby out of the water. She reached for her phone and stared at it for a long while, trying to think who to call.
The sound of a car horn nearby snapped her awake. She pushed the brakes, seeing the back of another car in front of her. Luckily, the car drove away, but it was enough to make Indigo’s heart race again. She pulled to the side of the road and picked the number.
“Fire brigade?” she asked, taking a deep breath. “My friend and I saw a girl who fell into the river. She was alive last time I’ve seen her, but we can only catch her near the farm…” Suddenly, she realised she forgot the name of the farm. “Something with apples. I’m driving there.”
She waited until the dispatcher ended the call and drove towards the farm. On her way, she heard the sirens and sped up, seeing the orchard in the distance.
After coming out of the forests and the park, the river surrounding Canterlot City was getting wider, flowing slowly across the plains, marshes, and polders. They were often at least partially flooded in the Spring, with the exception of the higher areas, such as the orchard placed on the top of the hills on the other side of the river.
Indigo didn’t pay attention to it. She drove as close to the bank as she could before her car got stuck in the mud. Then she got out of it and saw Muffins pulling unconscious Ruby across the polder. Indigo opened the trunk – she remembered there were some old blankets there.
The sirens grew louder and a fire engine drove across the plain, followed by an ambulance.
“Over there!” Indigo waved her hands, pointing at Muffins and Ruby. The ambulance skid to a halt next to them. Several firefighters and paramedics surrounded them, taking Ruby from Muffins.
Indigo walked to them, the world spinning around her. She barely had time to drop the blankets on the ground before falling on them. “I’m fine,” she said to the nearby paramedic. “I just went out of the gym when she told me to look for her bike.” She pointed at Muffins. “I’m a bit tired, that’s all.”
“We’d better take you to the hospital too,” the paramedic said. “You don’t look well.”
“Thanks…” Indigo chuckled before turning to Muffins. “Is Ruby okay?”
“She told me to fuck off before passing out,” Muffins replied. “She seemed rather cold, though.”
“It’s hypothermia,” the paramedic said. “She was lucky you’ve seen her…”
“Lucky… Sure…” Indigo got up and looked at the two paramedics approaching her. “Seriously, I’m fine…”
Suddenly, the world spun around her again and disappeared in the darkness.
The lunch break at Canterlot High had just started. Bulk walked to his table, where he was joined by Sandalwood, Flash, and Muffins. He noticed that for some reason, Sandalwood was frowning all the time. It wasn’t only a fault of the vegan option on the menu, which was notoriously lacking.
“Congratulations,” Sandalwood muttered to Bulk after they all sat at the table. “Your ex just tried to drown herself.”
“What?” Bulk asked. “Indigo? No way she’d–”
“Seems to be the season.” Flash turned to Bulk. “Didn’t you say that you had to go and explain Ruby’s drunk mother that her daughter was at the hospital?”
“Yeah…” Bulk’s eyes widened. “But what about Indigo?”
“She’s fine,” Muffins said, aiming her fork at Sandalwood. “And how do you even know that?”
“Applejack told me,” Sandalwood replied. “And she saw the ambulance from her farm and recognised Indigo–”
“Applejack doesn’t talk to you because of Fluttershy.” Muffins smirked.
Sandalwood sighed, piercing Muffins with his glare. “Okay, Vinyl told me that Big Mac told her that he saw that from the farm. Prove me wrong.”
“I’ve been there,” Muffins replied. “We pulled Ruby out of the river and then Indigo passed out. As far as I know, they hydrated her and took a blood sample which revealed that she has an alien brain parasite–”
“What?!” Flash winced, giving his food a look.
“Or maybe it was anemia.” Muffins shrugged. “Something with not enough red blood cells and iron. The doctor asked her about her periods and she said that they’re a highly irregular bitch…” She looked at Sandalwood, Bulk, and Flash. “I probably shouldn’t have told you that…”
“Yeah, I didn’t really need that knowledge,” Flash muttered. “Related: do you want my food?”
“Sure.” Muffins grabbed Flash’s plate.
“I’ll call her later,” Bulk said.
“Establishing peaceful relations, huh?” Sandalwood shrugged. “This may work.”
Bulk poked Sandalwood. “Oh, shut up…”
Lemon Zest gave Indigo a worried look. They were sitting on the bench at the soccer pitch, watching the rest of the team training free throws. Indigo showed the coach a doctor’s note excusing her from training, but still decided to stay with the team. Now, however, she grabbed a large sandwich with beef and pickles and took a bite, making Lemon wince.
“Hungry?” Lemon asked. She wasn’t a vegetarian, but she wasn’t a fan of beef either.
“Yeah,” Indigo muttered. “The doctor gave me some pills with iron, but I threw up after them, so I switched to natural iron sources.”
Lemon shrugged. “Ah, okay then. But do you have to eat it now?”
“You don’t have to watch.” Indigo smirked. “Besides, I must be in top form as soon as possible. What is it, a week until the match? And there’s still room for improvements, I’d say.”
“Do tell.” Lemon looked at the pitch and groaned.
To neutralise Canterlot High’s midfield consisting of five players, coach Sombra made some changes. Indigo became an attacking midfielder, along with Lemon, again putting Frosty Orange on the bench. In front of them, Varsity Trim was the sole striker; most of the attacks were supposed to go down the sides of the pitch, where Canterlot High’s wingers had no support from the defence. Varsity’s task was to intercept crosses and either try to score herself or pass the ball to Indigo or Lemon.
In theory, it should work, but, as the coach soon found out, the team had several personal problems. He tried to fix the gap on the left wing caused by Sunny Flare’s absence by putting Frosty Orange there, but it turned out that Frosty, being right-footed, preferred to cut into the middle to try to shoot herself; while surprising, it turned out that her aim was well off. Frosty was sent off for a target practice, replaced by surprisingly fast and left-footed Zephyr.
It soon turned out that no one in the team, coach Sombra included, really miss Suri Polomare. Alizarin Bubblegum was slightly taller and while her technical skills were seriously lacking, they were still better than what Suri presented. Indigo thought that she was too nice for the opponents and her tackling lacked aggressiveness, but it was apparently enough for the coach.
Defence was the only formation that managed to get unscathed through all the hardships since the first match between the two Canterlot City’s schools. Fleur, Upper Crust, Ginger Owlseye, Melon Mint, and Sugarcoat were working in ideal sync, no matter what Fleur’s biggest detractor, Diwata Aino, was saying.
Indigo was just watching Frosty Orange tackling Zephyr far harder than it was necessary, when she heard her phone ringing. She looked at the screen and her eyes widened. For a moment she considered not picking the phone, but then she slowly swiped her finger towards the green receiver.
“Hi,” Bulk said. “What’s up?”
“Fine,” Indigo muttered. “Just watching the girls training.”
“Are you okay?” Bulk asked. “Muffins told me–”
“Don’t worry, I’ll live,” Indigo replied. “Lemon already told me that I may have cancer and Sugarcoat gladly informed me that anemia is not unusual among HIV-positive adults.”
Bulk’s voice trembled. “Wait… Since when–”
“I’m not.” Indigo chuckled. “Sugarcoat later said that there are many positive things about me, but HIV isn’t one. I guess she meant it as a compliment.”
“Most likely,” Bulk said. “We went through this with Sandalwood.”
“I fear to wonder what else you went through with him…” Indigo sighed. “It’d be cool to meet one day, don’t you think?”
“Yeah,” Bulk replied. “Maybe after the match?”
“Sure,” Indigo said. “Guess you’ll need some comforting after we own your team.”
Bulk laughed. “We’ll see…”
For Indigo, any sport was a serious matter, although this still meant that she considered anyone who was even more serious about sport than her to be a freak. This also happened soon before the match when she walked with the crowd gathered in Crystal Prep’s parking lot, heading towards the stadium.
The short-haired woman looked pretty young, although she was probably in her forties. Indigo thought she must’ve been Rainbow Dash’s mom – she’d have guessed that even if she wasn’t wearing a t-shirt with her daughter’s likeness on it. Or if she wasn’t accompanied by a muscular man with rainbow-coloured hair. It was just her skin tone and the fact that she was rather loud in her support of Canterlot High’s team.
“It seems that everyone’s family showed up today,” Sugarcoat muttered, approaching Indigo and pointing at the crowd. Indigo saw Scootaloo with some two women and Muffins talking with a large, blonde guy looking like a viking. To her surprise, she also spotted her old nemesis, Cloudy Kicks, accompanied by her twin sister—if Indigo recalled correctly, her name was Lavender Lace—and some noisy, excited kid.
“Alula, would you kindly be quiet for a moment?” Cloudy rubbed her temples when Indigo and Sugarcoat passed by her, heading to the changing room. “Did you feed her pixy stix again, Lavender?”
Indigo chuckled, joining the rest of the team. They put on their soccer outfits and waited for the coach to bring them the latest news about the opponent team.
“Just as we expected, Cloudy Kicks starts on the bench today,” Sombra said, entering the changing room. “We learned the hard way how good Octavia Melody is on the right wing, so Ginger and Melon have to watch out today. Same goes for you Zephyr. Remember to switch sides with Orange Sherbette from time to time and attack down the right side of the pitch whenever possible. Heartstrings is a weaker defender.”
“Fuck this,” Frosty Orange whispered when the team walked towards the pitch.
“What’s wrong?” Indigo asked. Unlike Frosty, who was wearing a tracksuit, she already had her soccer outfit on, ready to start a warm-up.
“So, now Zephyr can switch sides with Orange Sherbette and cut to the middle?” Frosty sighed. “The goth princess can’t even kick the ball straight and while I keep this team from falling apart–”
“Yeah, it looks like the coach doesn’t want to put you in the starting line-up for some reason,” Indigo said.
Frosty rolled her eyes. “You have no idea, do you?”
“No, not really,” Indigo replied.
“Guess it’s working then.” Frosty shook her head.
“What is–” Indigo couldn’t hear her own voice. They just walked on the pitch, greeted with a deafening roar of the audience. Canterlot High’s team joined them soon after – as Indigo knew, their line-up and formation remained the same as in their previous match. She trembled, hoping that it had nothing to do with her health. The iron pills were still occasionally make her throw up, although at least she didn’t feel like passing out from exhaustion after a training.
Fifteen minutes later, the warm-up was over. The audience took their seats; Indigo shook Rainbow Dash’s hand, listening to Neon Lights reading Crystal Prep’s line-up.
“Number one, Fleur dis Lee… Defense, number two – Upper Crust, three – Ginger Owlseye, four – Sugarcoat, five – Melon Mint. As defensive midfielder, number seventeen, Alizarin Bubblegum. On the right, number seven – Orange Sherbette. On the left, number nineteen, Zephyr. In the middle, number ten – Lemon Zest and number eleven – Indigo Zap.”
Indigo waved at the crowd. She spotted Alizarin doing the same, although she noticed that Alizarin mostly looked at her boyfriend, Celery Stalk, who sat in the first row.
“And of course, number twenty, Varsity Trim!”
Varsity bowed. She’d finally found shoes in her size and unlike contacts-wearing Sugarcoat, she decided to switch her glasses for goggles. She took her position in the middle of the pitch, waiting with Indigo for the first whistle.
The match started. Just before it, Indigo spotted Vinyl Scratch in the audience, staring at Neon Lights, as well as Octavia glaring at them angrily. Thus, as soon as Varsity passed the ball to her, Indigo kicked it to Zephyr. The dark-haired girl ran past Octavia, speeding towards the penalty area. Diamond Tiara ran towards her, but Zephyr managed to make a short pass to Indigo before meeting her.
Indigo looked around. Bon Bon was rushing towards her and she was pretty sure that either Applejack or Rarity would soon attack her from behind. Seeing Varsity Trim in the penalty area, she chipped the ball towards her.
Muffins ran out of the goal and jumped, grabbing the ball above Varsity’s head. Varsity tried to avoid her, but they still crashed and fell on the ground, Muffins still holding the ball.
“You okay there?” Muffins asked, getting up.
“Sure,” Varsity replied, running off to take the position.
Muffins threw the ball to Applejack, who passed it to Sunset Shimmer. Sunset tried to outmaneuver Alizarin Bubblegum, but when it turned out that Alizarin would rather bite off her knees than let her do that, she passed the ball wide, towards Lyra. Upper Crust run to her, snapping the ball and kicking it towards the bleachers.
“Don’t panic,” Indigo muttered, walking towards the penalty area when Lyra took the ball to throw the ball in. She stood far from the pitch, smirking at the other players.
“What the fuck is she doing?” Melon Mint asked when Lyra ran forward. About halfway towards the pitch, she made a proper front flip with the ball in her hands, using its energy to launch the ball far and high above anyone’s head.
Melon Mint ran towards Scootaloo, trying to assess the path of the ball. It landed by Octavia’s feet though; she cut to the middle, preparing for a long-distance shot.
“Not this again,” Indigo muttered, throwing herself in the way of the ball. It bounced off her leg and went straight up. Indigo stood up immediately, but she had no chance to win a header against Applejack, who passed to Rainbow Dash.
The ball landed on Rainbow Dash’s chest. She spun swiftly in the penalty area, avoiding Sugarcoat’s tackle, and let the ball fall before kicking it between Fleur’s legs and towards the goal.
“Don’t just stand there!” Coach Sombra’s shout was louder than cheering of the crowd. “More movement in the attack, I told you that already!”
The team rushed in search of an equaliser. A few minutes later, Orange Sherbette managed to cross the ball to Varsity Trim, who passed to Indigo. Muffins dived, saving Indigo’s shot – a corner kick was all that Crystal Prep got, but it got squandered when Zephyr kicked the ball too low and Paisley cleared it with ease.
For the next fifteen minutes, the game was mostly stuck in the middle of the pitch – a natural consequence of both teams playing with five midfielders. Indigo could barely get past a bigger and stronger Applejack and even though Rarity often had trouble with Lemon Zest, Sunset Shimmer would always get back in time to help her. Varsity Trim was just wandering aimlessly around Canterlot High’s penalty area, receiving no passes.
The wings, however, were a place where Crystal Prep’s advantage began to show. After a few raids along the pitch, it seemed that Octavia was a bit short of breath, barely managing to hold her own against Zephyr and Ginger Owlseye. On the other side of the pitch, Orange Sherbette ran towards Lyra only to make a quick pass to Upper Crust, who was running behind her. Upper kicked the ball to Lemon Zest who was unmarked in the penalty area.
“Oh, come on!” Lemon shouted when her shot hit the bar. She charged blindly and pushed the ball into the goal, only to hear a whistle. “What did I do wrong now?”
“I don’t know, that was a pretty good elbow to the face,” Muffins muttered, standing up and moving her jaw. “Ouch…” She dropped on the grass again, rubbing her face.
Eventually, Lemon ended up with a yellow card while a doctor spent a while to determine whether Muffins could continue to play. After she repeated several times that she still had all her teeth, the doctor finally believed her and the game was restarted.
Muffins kicked the ball across the whole field. It bounced in front of Alizarin Bubblegum, but before she could clear it, Scootaloo appeared out of nowhere, running past Alizarin and shooting. The ball arced slightly and landed in the net, just above Fleur’s hands.
The crowd cheered when Scootaloo ended up in Rainbow Dash’s embrace. Indigo made sure the referee wasn’t around her before she cursed. She noticed that Fleur and Alizarin were still arguing in the penalty area, so she ran to them.
“You couldn’t see her?” Fleur shouted. She was much taller than Indigo and Alizarin, but now she seemed even taller, towering above Alizarin. “She was there all the time, just waiting for you to fuck up!” She turned to Melon Mint. “And where were you for that matter?”
“Shut up, Fleur,” Indigo said. “I’d like to remind you that so far you didn’t save anything harder than a missed pass. Focus and get back to the game.”
Fleur rolled her eyes. “Yeah, because you’re so effective today…”
“We’ll score, sooner or later,” Indigo replied. “But you’d better start saving, or nothing will save you after the match.”
“Oh, go fu–” Fleur was interrupted by the referee whistling, urging them to take position before the next kick-off.
With fifteen minutes until the break, Indigo and her teammates rushed to attack. Muffins managed to save two more shots; even more of them went wide or were blocked by the trio of Canterlot High’s defenders. It soon turned out that Bon Bon, while shorter than Varsity Trim, could always find the way to push herself between her and the ball in exactly the right moment. Indigo couldn’t really help her; as she found out, Diamond Tiara somehow knew exactly what would be her next move. It was even more annoying since, as Indigo knew, Diamond Tiara was only sixteen and slightly curvier than an average player.
“How do you do that, kid?” Indigo muttered after Diamond Tiara tackled her again and passed to Octavia.
Diamond Tiara smirked. “My friend spent two nights drinking coffee and watching all your games from the first half of the season. Every single one.” She waved at the grey-skinned girl with glasses, who was sitting on the bench next to Canterlot High’s coach, vice-principal Luna.
Indigo didn’t listen to her. Ginger Owlseye just stole the ball from Octavia and made a long pass towards her. Taking advantage of Diamond Tiara’s distraction, Indigo ran into the penalty area. She saw Lemon on the other side of it and decided to wait for Muffins to run to her and then pass, leaving Lemon a clean shot into an empty net.
Suddenly, she saw, a bit late, Muffins diving under her feet. She jumped, trying to avoid her, but she still tripped over her and fell. Muffins screamed, but did let go off the ball until the referee whistled.
“Ugh…” Indigo shook her head and blinked. Her vision blurred for a moment before focusing again. “You okay there?”
“Yeah…” Muffins muttered, pulling the waistband of her shorts to reveal a couple of bleeding wounds on her hip, matching studs on Indigo’s shoe. “Wait, not really.”
Indigo stood up and looked at the referee, who showed her a yellow card. “Hey, that wasn’t intentional!” She pointed at Muffins, who was having her hip bandaged.
“That’s why it’s not a red card,” the referee replied. Indigo groaned and walked back, waiting for Muffins to get up and restart the game.
Again, it was a long kick across the field. Sunset Shimmer intercepted the pass and kicked the ball to Applejack, who immediately tried to surprise Fleur with a long shot. The grass was slightly wet, making the ball slippery but this time, Fleur didn’t fail. She caught the ball and threw it to Sugarcoat.
“Come on!” Sugarcoat shouted, passing to Alizarin Bubblegum. Alizarin ran forward, dribbling the ball past Sunset and kicked it to Zephyr, who’d swapped places with Orange Sherbette and was now at the right wing. She cut to the middle of the pitch and shot. It went wide over the bar and landed on the bleachers. More exactly, hitting Cloudy Kicks’ youngest sister in the face.
“Sorry!” Zephyr exclaimed when the kid started crying.
“Can this get any worse?” Indigo asked, rolling her eyes. At the same moment, Muffins passed the ball to Lyra Heartstrings who ran down the line before Zephyr could get to her. She kicked the ball between Upper Crust’s legs and passed to Rarity, who ran into the penalty area and passed it along the goal line to Applejack.
“Oh, no shit…” Indigo muttered, watching as Sugarcoat decided to intercept the pass with a sliding tackle and, as it was often the case with such plays, managed to push the ball into her own goal, surprising Fleur completely.
The first half ended just a minute later. The first few minutes of the break passed in tense silence, interrupted only by coach Sombra’s pacing around the changing room. Finally, he turned to Indigo and Lemon, taking a deep breath.
“Zap and Zest,” he muttered. “What the hell are you two doing? You have the best situations from the whole team and you both decide to kick the goalkeeper instead of the ball. The girl’s gonna look like she came out of a warzone after this match! Next thing, Alizarin. If you chased the ball as fast as you chase Celery Stalk, we wouldn’t lose the second goal. Fleur, what are you thinking about, I have no idea, because it’s most definitely not the game.”
He turned to Sugarcoat. For a moment, he seemed to be looking for the right words, but eventually waved his hand and sighed. “I’d wait with substitutions, but since Alizarin decided to be pretty much useless, Garden Grove will start the second half as the right striker. Indigo, you’ll go forward as the left striker, with Varsity in the middle.”
After the coach was done, Diwata Aino stood up and walked to Fleur. “What the hell is going on?” she asked. “Too proud to play with us?”
“Shut up,” Fleur muttered.
“Yeah, shut up,” Indigo said. “You won’t help by stirring shit up, Diwata.”
“Funny you mention that.” Frosty Orange approached Indigo and pushed her away from Diwata. “Because you happen to play shit today.”
“Oh, really?” Indigo smirked. “Then what do you play, if the coach prefers Zephyr, even though the only thing she managed to hit was some kid in the audience?”
Frosty charged at her, but before she could reach her, Lemon and Ginger Owlseye grabbed her and pulled her back, kicking and thrashing.
“Chill out,” Indigo said. “This can wait until we win this match. Or until you calm down, whichever comes first.”
“Fuck you,” Frosty muttered. Indigo only shrugged and left the changing room with Fleur and a few more girls to take a few shots on goal and warm up before the second half. Frosty, released from Lemon and Ginger’s grasp, followed them, dragging her feet.
Just before the beginning of the second half it turned out that Lyra Heartstrings got tired of running from attack to defence and back like a swinging pendulum and, just like Alizarin Bubblegum, she was substituted. Octavia went to the left side of the pitch while Cloudy Kicks stepped on the grass in front of Zephyr.
Indigo observed her from a safe distance. Cloudy squinted, a faint smirk appearing on her face. When the referee blew the whistle, she got a pass from Rainbow Dash. Immediately, she rushed forward, kicking the ball between Zephyr’s legs and running down the right wing.
“Watch out!” Indigo exclaimed when Cloudy Kicks spun with the ball, avoiding Ginger Owlseye. She lost her balance for a moment, however, and it was enough for Sugarcoat to steal the ball from her and kick it towards Lemon Zest.
Lemon looked around. Sunset Shimmer and Rarity ran to her, but she passed the ball to Orange Sherbette, who passed by Octavia with a quick feint and chipped the ball to Garden Grove. Garden, chased by Bon Bon and Octavia, ran to the corner of the pitch, turned, and crossed the ball into the penalty area.
The ball bounced off Varsity Trim’s chest and fell under her feet. Indigo gritted her teeth; Varsity was the best when having the ball in the air. With thin, bony legs and poor coordination due to her height, she was easily outsmarted by even the most dim-witted defenders.
This was, however, not the case. Since Paisley was a bit late to reach her and Muffins was running towards her, Varsity just closed her eyes and kicked the ball as hard as she could. It missed Muffins’ fingers by an inch or so and landed in the net just under the crossbar.
“Yeah!” Indigo exclaimed, running to Varsity. They high-fived, but there was no time for a long celebration; they were still two goals behind.
The game was soon restarted. Applejack flicked the ball to Sunset Shimmer who quickly lost it when Sugarcoat managed to see through her feints. She passed the ball to the left, where Zephyr was waiting.
Indigo heard the crowd’s collective sigh before she noticed what happened. She saw Zephyr lying on the turf and holding her leg, wincing. Cloudy Kicks was sitting next to her with the ball, watching the team’s doctor rushing to Zephyr.
Crystal Prep’s team crowded around Cloudy Kicks who stood up, backed by several players from her own team.
“You did that on purpose!” Upper Crust exclaimed, facing Cloudy.
“And you’ve seen that from the other side of the pitch?” Bon Bon asked.
Upper Crust rolled her eyes. “I’ve seen more than you!”
“It’s because she hit your sister, isn’t it?” Indigo asked, furrowing her eyebrows.
Cloudy Kicks shrugged. “That’d be an amazing coincidence…”
Indigo gritted her teeth, but before she could do anything more, the referee stood between them. Behind them, the doctor gestured a few paramedics to Zephyr. Together, they put her on the stretcher and carried her out of the pitch. The referee looked at Cloudy and showed her a yellow card.
“Hey, what the hell?!” Indigo exclaimed, running to the referee and pointing at Cloudy. “She intentionally broke Zephyr’s leg!”
“She attacked the ball first,” the referee replied. “It wasn’t a vicious foul.”
“Not a vicious foul?” Indigo rolled her eyes, ignoring Lemon, who was poking her. “Well, I think that’s bullshit!”
“Congratulations, you’re an idiot,” Sugarcoat muttered in the ensuing silence.
“Why?” Indigo asked, turning to the referee, only to see a yellow card. Which was soon swapped for a red one. “What the fuck?!”
“Zap!” Coach Sombra shouted from the sidelines. “Shut your big mouth up and get off the pitch! Do you want to get yourself banned for the rest of the season?!”
“Oh, come on!” Indigo rolled her eyes and took off her armband before looking at the other players, unsure who was supposed to be the captain in her absence. Eventually, she just shoved it in Lemon’s hands and walked off the pitch.
She entered the changing room and kicked the trash can, causing it to fly across the room and hit the wall on the other side. Then she banged her hand against the locker and sat on the bench, covering her face with her hands. A few deep breaths later, Indigo decided to take a shower and leave the school unnoticed before the end of the match.
Everything went as planned. Ten minutes later, she climbed over the fence surrounding the school and walked down the street, trying not to listen to the crowd cheering coming from the stadium. She pulled the hood over her head and walked to the bus stop.
For a while, Indigo was sitting on the bench, wondering what to do. At first, she thought of going home, but that didn’t seem like a good idea. Her parents would probably soon leave the bleachers and go back home too, and she didn’t feel like talking to them. Only when she saw the incoming bus, she got the idea.
Indigo barely remembered where the town’s bus lines were going, but she recalled that this particular one was going near the hospital. The visiting hours probably weren’t over yet; there were no lights on the school’s pitch, so the games were played early at this time of the year. Indigo jumped into the bus and sat on one of the empty seats, soon leaving the school behind.
Only a couple of stops later, she started to think about what she was doing. The coach would probably be pretty angry, not seeing her at the debriefing. Which, as she expected, would be rather quiet.
She looked at her phone to check how the match was going. To her surprise, she found out that Frosty Orange scored, bringing hope back into Crystal Prep’s team. Indigo shrugged and, seeing that her stop was nearby, stood up and walked to the bus door.
Walking into the hospital, she began to question herself on why she came there. However, as she walked down the corridors, she figured out the answer. She just needed to talk to a friend and since her friends were playing the match, she went to the only one that was available.
“Good afternoon,” she said to the nurse sitting at the door to the ward. “I wanted to visit a friend. Her name’s Sour Sweet.”
The nurse shot her a glare, wincing at her Crystal Prep tracksuit. “Another one? You don’t happen to have any of the items on this list?”
Indigo looked at the list hanging on the wall. Some of the things, like razors, glass items, or drugs were obvious. Others, like bar soap, stuffed animals, or chemical hair removers were not.
“I don’t have any.” Indigo shrugged.
“Too bad. I’m out of cigarettes,” the nurse replied, opening the door. “I’ll go to the meeting room with you. Sour Sweet will be there shortly.”
Soon, Indigo sat at the table in the room with pastel-coloured walls. Few other patients were there, talking with their friends or families. Again, Indigo started to wonder what exactly she was doing. According to her phone, the match just ended; if Crystal Prep had any hopes of getting at least a draw, they were crushed by Applejack in the final minutes of the game. Several commenters argued that 4:2 wasn’t as bad an outcome for the pretty lackluster team.
Indigo raised her head and saw Sour Sweet walking into the room. Her sleeping gown was hanging pretty loosely, revealing more of her pink pajamas than Indigo wanted to see, although Sour Sweet wrapped it tighter once she saw her visitor. She had no make-up and her hair was hanging loose, but aside from that, she looked just like Indigo remembered her.
“Are you crazy?” Sour Sweet asked, sitting at the table.
“Maybe,” Indigo replied. “Hope you have a spare bed. We could live here together.”
“Don’t make me smack you.” Sour sighed. “I have great plans, like getting out of here and starting a family. I keep talking with the doctor about them. Not to mention that Sweet Leaf–”
Indigo looked at Sour’s sleeping gown, now neatly covering her body. “Well, I kinda noticed that you were expecting someone else.”
“Yeah, and you shouldn’t bother about that.” Sour Sweet smiled. “Also, shouldn’t you be at the match?”
Indigo sighed. “I got a red card and we lost.”
“Shame. I still like our school.”
“I’m not sure the school still likes you,” Indigo said. “Training papercutting on a fellow student’s face is usually frowned upon.”
Sour Sweet lowered her voice to a whisper. “I’ve seen this bitch around. She’s still bandaged. Maybe they’re trying to put her back together.” She chuckled.
Indigo nodded. “So, you’re saying that you’re getting better, huh?”
“I got better, but that doesn’t make Suri any less of a bitch.” Sour shrugged. “Like, I don’t think they’re letting me out anytime soon, but I sorta figured it out.”
“Figured what out?” Indigo asked.
“The more time I spend without my family, the clearer I think,” Sour Sweet replied. “Seriously, once I’m getting out of here, I tell my parents to kiss my ass goodbye and go with Sweet Leaf to build houses for the poor in townships of Cape Town. We have everything planned.”
“Cape Town?” Indigo asked. “Like, the one in South Africa? Well, that does sound like a plan, though I kinda doubt that Sweet Leaf–”
“Everybody doubts it,” Sour Sweet said. “Sunny only laughed at her. Guess Lemon wouldn’t want to go either. But us? I’m here and her naked pics are still on the internet. We have nothing to lose.”
Indigo looked at Sour and sighed. “I still think that’s crazy, but… good for you, I guess?”
“Yeah.” Sour smirked.
Before Indigo could add anything, she heard the first guitar riffs of her ringtone. She grabbed the phone and looked at the screen. “Shit, I forgot I was supposed to meet Bulk!” Frowning, she picked up the phone. “Hi, I kinda ran away from the stadium and now I’m with Sour Sweet in the hospital…”
“Ah, there you are,” Bulk replied. “We were kinda worried about you.”
“We?” Indigo asked.
“Me, your parents, your friends… Everyone, in fact.”
“Sorry, I just needed to think,” Indigo said. “Don’t worry, we can still make it up. Just pick me up at the hospital.” She turned to Sour. “That’s not a problem, right?”
“Nah, I just love sitting here messing with my roommates,” Sour replied with a sigh. “You’re free to go.”
“Okay then,” Indigo said, focusing back on the phone. “See you in fifteen minutes.” She put the phone down and looked at Sour. “Keep your fingers crossed.”
“So you get laid?” Sour asked.
“Fix my relationship,” Indigo replied. “At least I hope so.”
Sour nodded slowly. “That’s what they call it now, huh?”
Sugarcoat jumped off the treadmill and wiped her forehead. Panting, she turned to Indigo, who was warming up her leg muscles. “You’d better avoid coach Sombra for a while. Apparently the league officials got the referee’s report from the match. It includes a suggestion to ban someone for five games.”
“That’s like, half of the regular season,” Indigo muttered. “Are they crazy?”
“They’ll try to lower that to three,” Sugarcoat said. “Which will probably work, given that this is how the appeal committee rolls. Also, you’d better talk to the coach. He was pissed when you didn’t show up after the match.”
“So, I should talk to him while avoiding him?” Indigo asked. “Did you get a head injury again?”
“Whatever you fancy.” Sugarcoat rolled her eyes and took her phone and water bottle from the treadmill. “Anyway, Sunny Flare texted me while I was running.”
“What did she say?” Indigo asked, cracking her fingers.
“‘I’m back, bitches’ and a photo of her standing in front of her house. Guess she’s back from the rehab.”
“I hope Sour Sweet doesn’t hear about that.” Indigo leaned forward, touching the floor with her hands. “She has great plans involving Sweet Leaf and South Africa. Cutting Sunny may cause a problem…”
“South Africa? Geez.” Sugarcoat shrugged. “By the way, how was your date with Bulk? I’ve seen him at the match so–”
“Awkward,” Indigo replied. “We talked a bit and we almost ended up in bed, but I didn’t feel like it, so I left soon after that. He’s too good to show that he had a problem with that, but I think that–”
“Don’t think too much,” Sugarcoat said. “You either overthink it or he’s a dick. I can ask Sandalwood–”
“Better not.” Indigo walked to the rowing machine and sat on the seat. “I’ll talk to Bulk later myself. So far, I feel like attacking my record.”
“Witnessed.” Sugarcoat stood next to the machine and watched as Indigo chose the 2000 m option from the workout list. Indigo grabbed the handle and pushed herself off of the footrests, quickly reaching her optimal pace. For a while, all Sugarcoat could hear was the spinning flywheel and the ringing of the chain. Soon, however, it was joined by Indigo’s laboured breath and moans.
“Come on,” Sugarcoat muttered, looking at the display and taking track of the time, cadence, and amount of watts. “You can do better than that.”
Indigo groaned in response. She pulled the handle harder; her face was covered in sweat and Sugarcoat could swear that she could see every single muscle of her calves. Suddenly, however, the handle slipped from her hands. Indigo fell back and rolled off of the machine, landing in a strange position due to her feet still being held by the footrests.
“You okay there?” Sugarcoat asked. She freed Indigo’s feet and helped her lie down on the floor. Indigo muttered something incoherent, blinking and trying to get up.
“We’d better get you out of here.” Sugarcoat looked around, searching for someone from the staff. Luckily, one of the fitness instructors noticed them and walked to Sugarcoat.
“Is everything alright?” he asked.
“Of course, she just felt like having a nap,” Sugarcoat deadpanned. “What do you think? We need to get her out. She has to get some fresh air.”
Indigo groaned. “Outside?” she slurred. “It’s cold there.”
“And you just passed out,” Sugarcoat said, watching as the instructor lifted Indigo despite her weak protests. “Come on, let’s get you out…”
A fifteen minutes later Indigo, feeling much better, was sitting with Sugarcoat on a couch at the ground floor. A while spent outside was more than enough to bring her to consciousness; she immediately tried to rush to the changing room to get some warmer clothes and Sugarcoat barely convinced her that it’d be better if she helped her with it. Indigo reluctantly agreed, but it wasn’t the end of her trouble.
“I guess you shouldn’t drive home on your own,” Sugarcoat said. “Call your parents or something.”
“I’m fine, really,” Indigo muttered. “It’s not the first time I passed out on the rowing machine. Remember when I set my record?”
“Yes, but you passed out after you set it, not halfway through,” Sugarcoat replied. “Besides, I hate to inform you that your time would be about ten seconds worse than your personal best.”
“Maybe those iron pills still aren’t working.” Indigo shrugged. “You don’t think it may be something more serious? Or am I just getting old?”
Sugarcoat looked at Indigo and shrugged. “Oh, I have several theories.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “May I ask you a personal question?”
“Would my ‘no’ stop you from asking it?” Indigo asked.
“No,” Sugarcoat replied.
Indigo rolled her eyes. “Okay then.”
Sugarcoat looked around and leaned towards Indigo. “When did the red dragon last show up?”
“Excuse me?!” Indigo raised her eyebrows.
“I’m sorry,” Sugarcoat muttered. “People just don’t like when I talk about periods. Anyway, when was it?”
Indigo shrugged. “Umm… Well, it’s always a bit irregular, especially when I’m training a lot, and I guess there was that anemia thing so–”
“Hard data, not excuses.” Sugarcoat groaned. “February 15th in my case, if that makes you more comfortable.”
“Hmm…” Indigo furrowed her eyebrows and scratched her head. “I guess… December?”
Sugarcoat facepalmed. “I have no further questions.”
“You think I’m sick?” Indigo asked. “I can die?”
Sugarcoat lowered her hand and gave Indigo a look. “No, quite the opposite, actually.” She sighed. “You’re pregnant.”
“What?” Indigo shrugged. “Me? Pregnant? No way. Can’t be. I didn’t even have sex.”
Sugarcoat nodded slowly and looked at the window.
“What are you doing?” Indigo asked.
“Last time a virgin got pregnant, the Star of Bethlehem appeared in the sky, prompting the wise men to go to Jerusalem,” Sugarcoat replied. “I wouldn’t want to miss it.”
Indigo groaned. “I meant recently. Like, last time it was on New Year’s Eve? I think.”
“Almost three months, then,” Sugarcoat said. “That’d work. Now when I look at you, I can see the difference, though your thin ass isn’t helping.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Indigo muttered, looking at her stomach. “It looks as it always did. I guess?” She shrugged.
“Yeah. Your performance in the gym declined, you have iron deficiency, weird mood swings, you throw up from time to time…” Sugarcoat smirked. “Not sure about food cravings. You eat sandwiches with peanut butter and bacon all the time.”
“Bullshit,” Indigo said.
Sugarcoat stood up. “There’s one way to find out. Can you walk?”
“I think so.” Indigo got up from the couch.
Sugarcoat smiled. “So, we’ll take a walk to the mall…”
The mall was not far away from the gym. Sugarcoat pushed herself through the crowds, leading Indigo in her wake. They stepped on the escalator and, once they were on the second floor, Sugarcoat went to the first store with cosmetics and healthcare items she saw. Without a word, she walked to the large shelf with condoms on one side and pregnancy tests on the other. Indigo was pretty sure that such a placement caused many customers to spend a long time thinking on their life choices.
“We need to be sure,” Sugarcoat muttered, grabbing a handful of pregnancy tests and putting them in the shopping basket. “Sensitivity of every single of them rates between ninety-five and ninety-nine percent, so if we take, like, ten…”
“Chill out, Sugarcoat, or I’ll smack you,” Indigo muttered. “One will be enough to tell you that I’m not pregnant.”
“Shut up.” Sugarcoat took a few more tests of different brands and walked to the cash register. The cashier, a woman just a few years older than them, looked at her shopping basket. Her eyes widened and she looked at Sugarcoat.
“It’s for her.” Sugarcoat pointed at Indigo.
“It’s a… homework,” Indigo replied, kicking Sugarcoat’s ankle. “Yeah, we have an assignment like that. Totally.”
Something in the cashier’s smirk told her that her explanation was met with a mild disbelief. Once Sugarcoat paid, Indigo dragged her out of the store and hid behind the corner, in the corridor leading to the toilets.
“I swear, if it turns out that I’m not pregnant, I’m gonna feed your brain to you,” Indigo muttered.
“What if you are?” Sugarcoat asked.
“Then I’ll kick your ass anyway!”
“Yeah, sure.” Sugarcoat rolled her eyes and pointed at the toilets. “Now go and take the tests.”
“It’s a waste of time.” Indigo muttered, walking towards the door. “I’m not pregnant.”
“Fuck.” Indigo rested her face on her hands. “I’m pregnant.”
“Told you,” Sugarcoat muttered, sitting on the bench next to her. “I’ve seen all the signs and the tests only confirm–”
“Shut the fuck up, Sugarcoat!” Indigo exclaimed, tears welling in her eyes. “I’m pregnant! What will I do now?”
Sugarcoat looked at the screen of her phone. “If you’re in a hurry, there are three places where you can get an abortion within a mile radius. We can–” She couldn’t finish because Indigo grabbed the front of her jacket, pulling her towards herself.
“That’s not funny!” Indigo growled. “What will I tell Bulk? Or my parents? Hell, my whole life just got fucked and you’re still being–”
“Chill out for a moment,” Sugarcoat muttered. “Take a deep breath. There’s no need to panic. You’ll just tell Bulk that he’s gonna be a daddy and I guess together we’ll figure out a solution.”
“But how did that even…” Indigo looked at Sugarcoat. “Sandalwood!”
Sugarcoat raised her eyebrows. “Sandalwood got you pregnant? Well, that complicates the matter, if only because I’m going to kill him now.”
“No,” Indigo replied. “He gave us some shady vegan condoms back when we were in Our Town.”
“I can assure you they’re fine,” Sugarcoat said. “Thought now when I think about it, I guess he left them in the sauna and–”
“Whatever!” Indigo exclaimed. “No matter how it happened, I’m screwed. I don’t want to get an abortion, but giving birth…” She shuddered. “I don’t want to be a mother yet!”
“Do we have to discuss that in the middle of the mall?” Sugarcoat asked. “Also, there’s always adoption. You’ll have peaceful eighteen years until the kid starts to look for their biological parents.”
Indigo looked around, at the people walking around them. Most of them were focused on doing the shopping, although she thought she’d rather not share her story with them, accidentally or not. “So, where do we go?”
Sugarcoat looked at her phone. “Sunny Flare invites us to a little get-together.”
Indigo shook her head. “Somehow, I don’t trust Sunny Flare when it comes to keeping a secret.”
“Well, it’s not like you’ll keep it for much longer,” Sugarcoat said. “Like, if I noticed this, someone will too.”
“You know I was being sarcastic, right?” Indigo asked, seeing Lemon Zest standing in front of Sunny Flare’s house. “Ah, of course, you only understand sarcasm when it’s convenient.”
“Remember, we’re here to support you and find a solution,” Sugarcoat replied, walking to Lemon. “Hello.”
“I got your message,” Lemon said. “I also got Sunny’s message. Wonder how’s she.”
“Better than Indigo, I guess.” Sugarcoat pushed the gate leading to Sunny’s garden and walked towards the front door.
“What happened?” Lemon asked, looking at Indigo. “You seem pale. Are you okay?”
“Long story,” Indigo replied.
Given the size of Sunny Flare’s house, it was surprising that she opened the door almost as soon as Sugarcoat rung the doorbell. Unlike Indigo, she looked much better than when they’d last seen her. She smiled and hugged Sugarcoat, despite her weak protests.
“Hello,” Sunny said. “I’ve seen Lemon from the window and I knew you’d appear.” She looked at Indigo and Lemon and her smile faltered. “Sour still hates me for that whole Sweet Leaf thing?”
“I don’t think so,” Sugarcoat replied. They walked inside and went to the biggest and cosiest of Sunny’s rooms. Indigo was surprised to see that Sunny’s father was home; he smiled and waved at them when he saw them.
“Wait, no one told you about Sour?” Indigo asked when they sat together on bean bag chairs and Sunny’s bed.
“What about Sour?” Sunny shrugged. “I almost completely severed the ties with the outside world by the end of my stay. Now I sleep better, gained a few pounds, almost don’t think about drinking–”
“Well, Sour ended up in the nuthouse after cutting Suri Polomare’s face with a razor blade,” Sugarcoat said. “Also, Indigo is pregnant and we don’t know what to do about that.”
“What?!” Lemon exclaimed.
Indigo turned to Sugarcoat, furrowing her eyebrows. “I could’ve told them myself, you know.”
Sunny stood up. “You’re pregnant? But how?”
“Well, when two people really love each other…” Indigo sighed. “Sugarcoat’s sarcasm rubbed off on me, it seems. Anyway, I don’t know what should I do…”
“Do you want to keep the baby?” Lemon asked. “What about school?”
“School is the least of my concerns,” Indigo replied. “As for the baby, I’m considering giving it up for adoption, but… What if it doesn’t get adopted and gets stuck in some crappy orphanage because of me?”
“Well, if you found a family…” Sugarcoat shrugged. “But I guess you should tell Bulk first. After all, it’s his baby too.”
“Maybe later,” Indigo replied. “By now I’m still too shocked to think. What will I tell my parents?”
Sugarcoat smirked. “I can go with you.”
“No way.”
Sunny scratched her head. “I was just thinking… What if the baby ends up in an orphanage and becomes like auntie Lightning Dust? If I recall correctly, your parents were also young when she was born, right?”
“They were twenty-one, but they raised her by themselves,” Indigo replied. “Dad nearly ended his football career, but mom convinced him that he’d be more useful earning money to give the kid a decent living.”
“Something you and Bulk don’t have.” Sunny nodded. “But given how she turned out, it didn’t quite work, right?”
“Sunny, stop thinking,” Sugarcoat muttered, seeing how Indigo froze. “Maybe you think you can do it better now that you’re sober, but it’s not exactly true.”
“Yeah.” Lemon turned to Sunny. “Besides, I’m still mad at you.”
“But why?” Sunny asked. “I did nothing wrong.”
“Aside from causing this whole thing with Sour and Sweet Leaf.” Lemon rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.
“Oh, please,” Sunny muttered. “Your not-quite girlfriend ran away with your ex-girlfriend and you’re pissed at me because my old drunken self caused shit to happen to them? Shame on you, Lemon Zest.”
“You are a woman of many astounding virtues,” Sugarcoat deadpanned. “Although I can’t help but notice that your new, sober self sounds almost the same as your old, drunken self. Besides, we’re supposed to help Indigo, right?”
Indigo shrugged. “You don’t have to, really. I know what I will do.” She stood up. “I’ll go and tell Bulk and my parents everything. Then… Well, we’ll figure something out.”
“Maybe someone should drive you home?” Sunny stood up. “I can do it.”
“No, thanks.” Indigo waved her hand. “I know your driving all too well…”
Indigo parked in the garage and got out of the car, breathing heavily and nearly collapsing. Adrenaline rush caused by learning about her pregnancy had ended and she felt that she was about to pass out again. Resting herself against the wall, she walked around her father’s pickup truck.
“You okay there?”
Startled, Indigo raised her head and saw her father kneeling next to his truck. The rear wheel was taken off and Indigo’s father was currently in the process of dismantling the brakes.
“New brake discs,” he said, looking at her. “Let me guess: the training was fine?”
Indigo stood straight, taking a deep breath. “Yeah,” she replied, hoping that the dim light in the garage would hide her paleness. “I…” She took another deep breath. “I feel a bit tired.”
“You really should watch out.” Indigo’s father stood up and looked at the brake disc. “You’d better ease out with trainings until your iron gets better.”
“Sure,” Indigo replied. “I think I’ll go to bed now.”
She sneaked out of the garage and walked upstairs. After reaching her bedroom, she closed the door and dropped on the bed. The phone slipped out of her pocket and landed on the mattress, so she picked it up and looked at the screen.
Indigo let out a whimper. For a moment, she hovered her finger above the list of the last calls. She imagined Bulk’s reaction if she called him. It wasn’t that she felt he’d be mad; she was afraid he’d say nothing. He’d accept it, but… Indigo shuddered at the thought.
She sighed and put the phone on the nightstand. Then, she turned on her bed, weeping quietly.
The days started to get warmer. What remained of the snow covering the streets was just a memory, circling down the gutters and disappearing underground. First blades of grass and leaves on the trees started to show up shyly. People in the town got rid of their winter jackets, opting for something lighter instead, even if it meant freezing if the weather decided to remind them that winter wasn’t quite over.
Sugarcoat sneezed. “Damn allergy,” she muttered. “Who came up with springs?”
“I should’ve known you’re a bundle of genetic fuck-ups,” Sandalwood said. “What else are you hiding?”
“I’m hiding the fact that I hate walks in the park,” Sugarcoat replied. “Apparently pretty well, given that’s where you took me. Though knowing you, you may have invited me specifically to piss me off.”
“You got me.” Sandalwood chuckled, hugging her.
Sugarcoat smirked. “If that was an assassination attempt, you need to try harder. Though as far as getting my boyfriend goes, I probably can’t match Indigo.”
“What did she do?” Sandalwood asked. “Bulk didn’t tell me. Hell, I’m no longer sure if they’re still a thing.”
“Oh, they will,” Sugarcoat replied. “As for what she did, I won’t tell you.”
Sandalwood’s smile faltered. “Why?”
Sugarcoat shrugged. “I learn from history. Both the ‘careless talk may cost lives’ thing and that bit with Sour Sweet and Suri.”
“Always.” Sugarcoat chuckled. “Also, there are more interesting things to talk about, like, for example, this lovely weather…” She pointed at the sky; there were dark clouds hanging over them, suggesting that rain wasn’t a matter of “if” but rather “when”.
Sandalwood nodded. “Yeah, we’d better get somewhere else…”
Bulk took a few steps back and looked at his boat. It was almost finished; he’d still have to paint it and fit it with a mast and all the necessary equipment, but the hull was already there.
“So, do we get champagne?” Muffins asked. Against her better judgement, she’d decided to go on a bicycle ride into the woods, only to end up in Bulk’s house, soaked to the bone by the rain.
“Nah, only after it’s finally on water,” Bulk replied. “But I think we can go somewhere in the Summer… Maybe Indigo will want to come with us.”
“Yeah.” Muffins shrugged. “Do you think Flash would come? I have some plans…”
“Do they involve holding his head underwater until he swears he’ll be yours and yours only?” Bulk asked. “I must tell you that on my boat, we don’t allow keelhauling.”
“Too bad.” Muffins sighed. “What if Indigo and me start a mutiny?”
“Walking the plank,” Bulk replied, putting a few screwdrivers in the toolbox. “Though I’m not sure if Indigo will come. She doesn’t call since the last time we met and doesn’t answer my calls. I don’t know why.”
Suddenly, Bulk’s phone started to ring. For a while, Bulk was looking around the workshop, trying to find where he’d put it, until Muffins saw it lying on the shelf next to a box of nails.
“Don’t you think the universe wants to tell you something?” Muffins gave Bulk the phone.
Bulk looked at the phone. “It’s probably not what I want it to tell me,” he said. “It’s Sandalwood.” He picked up the phone. “What’s up, man?”
“Hello,” Sandalwood whispered. “I have to be quiet so I don’t wake Sugarcoat up.”
“Is she secretly a praying mantis?” Bulk asked. “If so, she ate your brain a while ago, you just didn’t notice.”
“You’re truly a master of wit,” Sandalwood deadpanned. “Sugarcoat just didn’t tell me what you didn’t tell me about something Indigo told you. What is it?”
Bulk scratched his head. “Can you say that again?”
“What did Indigo tell you recently? Sugarcoat found that serious enough not to tell me,” Sandalwood replied. “She also said something about Sour Sweet and Suri Polomare.”
“Then I guess I won’t tell you either.” Bulk shrugged. “Because, for starters, I don’t know what she’s talking about.”
“Oh, come on,” Sandalwood muttered. “You can tell me. It’s not like–”
Suddenly, another sleepy voice interrupted him. “Ready for round two, daddy?”
“Oh, hell.” Bulk ended the call and put the phone on the table. “That’s not something I want to listen to.”
“What was that?” Muffins asked. “Or did he just call to tell you that he got laid?”
“Something cryptic about Indigo.” Bulk shrugged. “It’d be easier to decipher if she picked up my calls.”
Muffins nodded and produced a phone from her pocket. It was a heavy-duty model with a slightly cracked screen and the case scratched in several places. “Hmm, I don’t think she has my number…” Before Bulk could react, she grabbed his phone and opened the contacts list. “Let’s see…”
“If you drop my phone…” Bulk shuddered. “It’s the first one I managed not to sit on.”
“Don’t worry.” Muffins said, putting his phone back on the table. “Time for an experiment.” She put her phone on speaker.
After a few signals, Indigo picked up. “Muffins? What’s going on?”
“You have my number?” Muffins asked. “I was just wondering about that.”
“You gave it to me when we were looking for your bike,” Indigo replied.
“Ah, of course.” Muffins slapped her forehead. “What’s up? Haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Sunny Flare just told me she considers transferring to Canterlot High,” Indigo said. “Cinch doesn’t want to see her after she came to school drunk. Not to mention that her father stopped sponsoring Crystal Prep.”
“Also, some bitch stole my soccer shoes and threw them on the fence!” Sunny Flare yelled in the background.
Muffins’ hand trembled. “Tell her that if she ever shows up in our school, I’ll break her nose for what she did to Sweet Leaf.”
“Seems you’re getting homeschooled,” Indigo said to Sunny Flare.
“Yeah.” Muffins smirked. “Anything else we can talk about? Like, any particular reason you’re avoiding Bulk, for example?”
Bulk facepalmed. “Smooth.”
“Umm…” Indigo’s voice faltered. “Did he ask you to call me?”
“No, technically it was my idea,” Muffins replied.
“Well, I’d rather discuss that with him,” Indigo said, stuttering slightly.
“That’s a bit hard since you’re not picking up my calls,” Bulk muttered, frowning.
“Man, sorry!” Indigo exclaimed. “You know, I’m in a bit of a pickle. Seriously, we need to talk, but I’d prefer to do that in person. Without any witnesses.”
“Okay, I get it,” Muffins muttered. “I’ll shut up.”
“It’s not about you, it’s about everyone,” Indigo replied. “So, tomorrow after school, okay? Maybe somewhere in the mall.”
“Sure,” Bulk said. “See you tomorrow, then.”
When Bulk got to the mall, Indigo was already there. He found her sitting in the corner of their favourite cafe. She looked pale and nervous, playing with her spoon idly, seemingly unaware of her surroundings. When Bulk sat at the table, facing her, she winced, sinking deeper into her comfy armchair.
“Are you okay?” Bulk asked. “Did something happen?”
Indigo nodded, staring at her coffee. “Kind of.”
“Kind of?” Bulk looked at Indigo. “I’m getting kind of worried here, you know. After the last time we met, you completely stopped talking to me. I mean… Was it something I said?”
“No, it’s not that.” Indigo waved her hand. “I still don’t quite get that, myself.”
“What do you mean?” Bulk asked. “Don’t get me wrong, but you look like you had a terrible day. Or a week.”
“Even worse, actually.” Indigo sighed, closing her eyes as tears flowed down her face. “I just don’t know what to do…”
“Just tell me what’s wrong,” Bulk said, leaning over the table to hug her. “I guess we’ll find some way… Is it about your friends?”
“It’s about us,” Indigo whispered, shuddering and weeping. “Bulk, I... I’m pregnant…” She broke the hug, sitting back on the couch.
“Oh.” Bulk froze for a moment before sitting back on his seat and taking a deep breath. “H-how?” He cleared his throat, seeing Indigo’s face. “I mean… Like…”
“Something went wrong with condoms,” Indigo replied. “It’s not our fault…”
“Well, it kinda is my fault,” Bulk muttered. “I mean, I’m the father, so…” He rested his head on his arms. “Holy shit, what will we do…”
Indigo wiped her tears and sat straight in her seat. “Yeah, that’s what I keep asking myself.” She shrugged. “I’m just not ready. Not just for having this baby… I’m not even ready to decide what to do. Hell, even my parents don’t know yet…”
“Maybe you should tell them,” Bulk said. “They’d know what to do…”
“Sugarcoat already painted a really bright vision of a future where our kid steals cars like my sister,” Indigo muttered. “And my parents were older than us when she was born.”
“Well, I’d say they got more experienced since then,” Bulk replied. “And there are always my parents too.” He smiled. “This shouldn’t be that bad. I mean, my older brother has children too and they took it well.”
“That’s the problem.” Indigo sighed. “I feel like I disappointed my parents. I spent my whole life trying not to repeat their mistakes, not to be like Lightning… I failed at all of those, adding some of my own personal fuck-ups along the way.”
“Hey, you’re not a total failure,” Bulk said.
“But still a failure,” Indigo replied.
“No, of course not,” Bulk embraced Indigo, nearly knocking over her cup of coffee. “Hey, we’re in this together, aren’t we?”
“Yeah, but…” Indigo trembled, lowering her head. “I just feel a lot of things went wrong between us lately. I just don’t want you to be with me only because you feel sorry or guilty, or something…”
“Who do you think I am?” Bulk wiped tears off Indigo’s face and smiled. “As I said, we’re in this together. We can go to our parents right now and tell them what happened.”
Indigo gulped. “I’m not sure this will go well…”
Out of all the rooms in Sunny Flare’s house, she liked this one the most. It was small; the bed and the nightstand took most of the space. It had a thick, fluffy carpet Sunny really liked. The walls were adorned with a couple of drawings from her childhood she kept out of sentiment. For Sunny, however, the most important part was that there was not a single bottle of alcohol hidden there.
“Thirty days,” Sunny muttered to herself. She was sitting on her bed, painting her toenails. A small pile of books littered the nightstand and the floor next to it – since she was effectively kicked out of one school and apparently not welcome in another, she had way more free time than she ever wanted or needed.
Waiting for the nail polish to dry she was about to pick one of the books when someone knocked at the window. Sunny quickly wrapped her sleeping gown tighter around herself and looked at it. She heard knocking again so she walked to the window and opened it.
Immediately, she was handed a backpack. Then, Indigo climbed to her room and landed swiftly on the floor. “Hello,” she said, taking the backpack from Sunny.
Sunny frowned. “Are you and Sour communists, anarchists, or other guys who think people who have big houses should let all the homeless live in them?”
“I’m not homeless,” Indigo replied. “I just kinda have no place to live right now.”
“What happened this time?” Sunny asked. “Bulk doesn’t want to know you and your parents kicked you out?” She shrugged. “I didn’t expect them to do that.”
“No and no,” Indigo replied. “He took it well and he doesn’t know I’m here. As for my parents, they were pretty shocked. Like, they seemed too shocked to say anything, so I went to my room, packed my things and decided to leave for a while.”
“Yeah, sure.” Sunny furrowed her eyebrows. “I can imagine Sour’s parents doing that. But yours?”
Indigo blushed and lowered her head. “Okay, I kinda heard them… arguing. They didn’t want to do it in my presence, but I still heard them. I just want to wait until the atmosphere clears.”
“In my house?” Sunny sighed. “Do I have a big ‘Girls With Issues Storage’ sign above my door?”
“No, you just have a cool house,” Indigo replied.
Sunny lay on her bed and rubbed her temples. “Fuck it,” she muttered. “Dunno how about you, but for me, the atmosphere clears tomorrow. Then, you’re either going back to your parents or to Bulk, I don’t care.” She turned to Indigo. “Besides, you’re pregnant. I don’t know shit about it, but it probably wasn’t healthy to climb to my window like a goddamn Spiderman.”
Indigo looked down on her stomach. “I feel fine. Just a little tired.”
“I’m serious, though,” Sunny said. “When I was in that strange place, they examined me and it turned out I have high blood pressure, my pancreas is a mess, and that my liver is thirty years old. Since then, I’m kinda sensitive about health. Are you sure you don’t have gestational diabetes?”
Indigo groaned. “Sunny…”
“What?”
“Shut up,” Indigo replied. “Wait a minute, I need to act like I’m responsible and tell Bulk where I am.” She produced her phone from her backpack. “Then you can talk to me about your liver all night...”
For starters, there were jokes about bassists. Most of them were pretty repetitive and none of them appreciated the important role bass played in every band. What was worse, many bassists seemed to embrace them, which made them look rather pathetic.
Then, there were guitarists who played bass. Or rather, tried to play. Ringo thought that anyone who played bass like it was fingerstyle guitar or didn’t master the art of muting the strings that weren’t currently played so that they wouldn’t make any unwanted noises should be forbidden from even touching bass.
However, only one thing was truly Ringo’s bane. It was something that made him fumble his part of the song and change the fret just in time to complete ruin an intricate passage of sixteenth notes that no one but him appreciated.
“Hi, Flash!” Muffins exclaimed. “How’s the rehearsal?”
“Oh, no,” Ringo muttered.
Flash finished the guitar solo with a loud feedback and shot Ringo a look. “Not bad,” he replied. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, I was just coming back from the judo practice,” Muffins replied. “And I was wondering if you’d want to go with me to get some frosty chocolate milkshakes or something…”
“By that she means, ‘I’ll ruin your band forever’,” Ringo muttered.
Muffins cracked her fingers. “I can ruin your ass, too,” she said in the most innocent tone before turning back to Flash. “So, are you going?”
“Will I get to know your judo skills closer if I say no?” Flash asked.
“Nah, this doesn’t help with maintaining a healthy relationship,” Muffins said. “Guess that’s one of the two things I learned this year.”
Flash turned to Brawly Beats who shrugged. Sighing at that lack of support, he turned back to Muffins. “What is the other?”
“That putting a GPS in my bicycle was the best idea ever,” Muffins replied. “So, what about milkshakes?”
“Just one more song.” Flash looked at Ringo and smirked. “The best choice would be ‘Flashy Feelings’, because Brawly Beats wrote a bass line to it.”
“So?” Muffins asked.
“It’s thoroughly unimaginative and I hate playing it.” Ringo groaned. “But whatever. This band is gonna fall apart anyway…”
Nurse Sweetheart sighed, seeing the visiting room. She’d hoped it’d be completely empty, which meant she could leave it for a few minutes and smoke a cigarette in the boiler room. However, it seemed that young Sour Sweet still had a visitor who, to Sweetheart, appeared even more insane than some of the patients; this wasn’t helped by the fact that she apparently kept trying to teach Sour Sweet some foreign language.
“I don’t get it,” Sour Sweet said. “Don’t they speak English there, anyway?”
“Een taal is nooit genoeg, nie,” replied Sweet Leaf. “One language is not enough.”
“Ek verstaan nie.” Sour Sweet shrugged. “That’ll be my go-to answer to anything.”
“Well, that’s always something.” Sweet Leaf smirked and looked into the phrasebook. “What if I told you, Ek’s lief vir jou?”
“I’d ask you to repeat it in a language I know,” Sour Sweet said.
“I love you.”
Sour Sweet frowned. “What?”
“That’s what it means,” Sweet Leaf replied, getting closer to Sour Sweet. “Ek’s lief vir jou, Sour Sweet.”
“Umm… Okay.” Sour Sweet blushed.
“Seriously, I can’t wait until you get out so we can go away and never come back.” Sweet Leaf sighed. “Nothing really holds me here…”
“Well…” Sour Sweet smiled sheepishly. “I guess there are other people… Friends, maybe?”
Sweet Leaf pouted. “You don’t love me?”
“Nah, I’m just not sure if getting into a relationship with someone like me is, you know…” Sour Sweet lowered her head. “Reasonable.”
“Oh, don’t worry.” Sweet Leaf leaned over to Sour Sweet and kissed her, leaving her blushing profusely and staring back at her with raised eyebrows.
“What the–”
“I have to go,” Sweet Leaf muttered, grabbing her phrasebook from the table. “Catch you later!”
She rushed out of the room, carefully watched by Nurse Sweetheart. Another nurse let her out of the ward and she walked down the corridor towards the elevator.
“Hey, you! Sweet Leaf!”
Sweet Leaf shuddered, recalling the days at school shortly after her photos were leaked. She raised her head to see Sweeten Sour passing by. She smiled at her; they’d often see each other at school, but only recently she realised Sweeten was Sour Sweet’s sister.
“Hello there,” Sweeten said. “Still trying to teach my sister Afrikaans?”
Sweet Leaf nodded. “Well, she isn’t the fastest learner around, but we’re getting there.”
“You’d better teach her Zulu and Xhosa too.” Sweeten Sour smiled. “They have more speakers than Afrikaans, I checked. She’ll get them right in time for you two to leave. Assuming nothing changes.”
Sweet Leaf frowned, furrowing her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
“Didn’t she tell you?” Sweeten Sour waved her hand. “Man, my sister can be forgetful sometimes. She’s not getting out anytime soon. Like, Suri Polomare’s parents said in court that she’s still traumatised, can’t leave her house, and that they wouldn’t be comfortable if my sister ever leaves the hospital, so she’ll spend at least ten years here, it seems. And even then it may be a bit hard to go abroad for her.”
Sweet Leaf froze. “W– wha–”
“I mean, she’s my sister, but she is crazy.” Sweeten Sour shrugged. “Besides, you know how that looks? Shrinks’ daughter goes on a rampage. Sour Patch and me get shit at school. Sweet Dreams and Sour Grapes keep asking me where’s Sour. I know you like her, but I hope she keeps away from them.”
Sweet Leaf didn’t seem to listen, staring blankly at the wall.
“I guess that’s how Indigo felt where her sister was arrested,” Sweeten Sour said. “This really sucks a big one.” She looked at Sweet Leaf. “I guess you know how it’s like, huh?”
“Indeed.” Sweet Leaf took a deep breath, trying to calm down. “Just… I have to go home.”
She walked past Sweeten Sour and rushed to the elevator. It was empty; Sweet Leaf stood in the corner, waiting for the door to close. When it happened, she sniffed, lowering her head. A moment later, she started to cry.
Flash closed his eyes. He had heard somewhere that facing the deadly threat with eyes open would be more dignified, but on the other hand he thought that dignified or not, the result would be exactly the same.
Muffins pushed the front brake of her bicycle and leaned forward, making a front wheelie. She was about to kiss Flash, but the handlebars slipped out of her grasp, causing her to lose balance. Luckily, Flash opened his eyes right in time to catch her before she followed her bike in a short trip down to the pavement.
“Okay, stoppie kisses are not my thing,” Muffins muttered. “The pavement is too wet.”
“Yeah.” Flash nodded. “You can fall or run me over.”
“Not really.” Muffins picked up her bike. “I know those brakes. At worst, the frame could hit you in the nuts.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better.” Flash shuddered, looking around. The street was mostly empty and while it wasn’t dark yet, it was getting slightly cold. “Maybe we’ll do something less dangerous? Maybe getting another milkshake?”
“Yeah,” Muffins said. “Or we can go to my house…”
Flash froze, raising his eyebrows. “Really?”
“I recently got my hands on KPz-70,” Muffins replied. “I wanted to take it for a ride and shoot some noobs thinking a medium tank is an easy target.”
“Oh.” Flash nodded. “Well, I could, umm… cheer on you then?”
Muffins smirked, winking. “Not the kind of ride you expected?”
Flash backpedalled, blushing. “Well, it’s not like…”
“Am I going too fast again?” Muffins asked. “Don’t worry, we can just ride a tank.” She shrugged and took Flash’s hand. “Or better I’ll do that. You’re not very good with tanks, I’ve seen it.”
“We’re still talking tanks, I hope,” Flash replied.
“Of course.” Muffins smiled. “Though I need to play some planes too. Indigo shot me down with a goddamn flying boat with the manoeuvrability of a brick. I need my revenge.”
“Well, I’m not sure Indigo will be around,” Flash said. “She has other things on her head.”
“Oh, fuck this!” Indigo exclaimed, throwing the studded shoe against the wall. “They don’t fit anymore. None of my shoes do, in fact. What’s going on?”
“Swollen feet,” Bulk replied. “I’ve read that it’s common. Besides, I don’t know why you bother with soccer now. I don’t think you’ll be able to play even after your disqualification ends. It may be too dangerous.”
Indigo furrowed her eyebrows. “Don’t tell me what to do!” She rested her head on her hands. “I know I won’t be playing. Just… This whole thing pisses me off. I feel weak, I throw up all the time, and I know it won’t get away from this for a while. And I can’t do anything about that.”
Bulk shook his head. “I’d start with talking to your parents. That’d be one less problem to deal with.”
Indigo sighed. Since she ran away from home, she lived at Bulk’s house. Not that it was a great hideout, especially that she kept going to school. Her father came to Bulk’s house on the same day as her, asking her to come back. For a moment, Indigo wanted to do just that, but instead, she told him that she needed some time to think.
“And what will I tell them?” she asked. “That I want to give the baby up for adoption?”
“Well, that’s what you’re planning to do,” Bulk said. “It’s our baby and our decision, right?”
Indigo nodded. “Yes, but it’s also their grandchild. Mom will be pissed. She often talked about how she raised Lightning Dust against all the–”
Bulk nodded. “Yeah, because that went well…”
“Tell that to my mother,” Indigo muttered. “Of course I’d want to stay at my house, but I just don’t feel comfortable with all that… My mother, my decision…” She sighed. “Those two don’t seem all compatible.”
“Well, if you talked with her…”
“That’s the problem,” Indigo said. “I’m just not good with talking about such things. I guess you know that.”
“Yeah.” Bulk chuckled, patting Indigo’s head. “Don’t worry. She’s your mother, after all.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Indigo said. “We’re kinda similar.”
“Then she’ll understand you, I guess.” Bulk sighed.
Indigo shrugged. “Maybe. I’ll never know if I don’t go to her, right?”
“That’s the spirit,” Bulk replied, looking at Indigo’s shoes scattered all over the hall. “Also, I think Featherweight’s old sneakers should fit you.”
“They’ll look weird with my uniform,” Indigo replied. “Though going barefoot would probably be even weirder…”
In the end, Indigo went to school wearing a pair of sneakers with some anime character on them. No one commented on that; Indigo hoped they just didn’t pay attention. Besides, the shoes were pretty comfortable. Driving a car in them was a pleasure; she could feel the pedals better than in her regular shoes, making for a smoother ride and a relief for her troubled stomach.
Indigo drove out of the parking lot. Technically, there was a soccer training awaiting her, but she didn’t care. She wanted to go to her house and talk with her parents. It wasn’t something she could do over a phone; she just had to talk to them in person.
The roads finally dried after winter so Indigo could drive a little bit faster. She pushed the accelerator, leaving the school behind.
Suddenly, she noticed someone standing on the edge of the pavement, far away from any crossings. She pushed the brakes, slowing down before the pedestrian decided to run in front of her car.
“Watch out!” Indigo exclaimed, greeting the girl in front of her car with her middle finger. As far as she could tell, she managed to stop a few inches from her legs. Indigo opened the window. “Are you crazy, suicidal, or retarded, you idiot? I could’ve ran you over!”
“I’m sorry!” the girl exclaimed. Indigo only now noticed that it was Sweet Leaf; she hadn’t seen her in a long while. It seemed, however, that not much changed in her life; Indigo noticed tears on her face.
“Sweet Leaf?” Indigo asked. “Sorry for yelling at you. What happened?”
“Sour Sweet,” Sweet Leaf replied. “Sorry for asking… but could you give me a lift?”
“Sure.” Indigo unlocked the car door, letting Sweet Leaf inside. “So, what about Sour?”
“They’re not letting her out of the hospital,” Sweet Leaf replied. “She never told me. I only heard about it from her sister.”
“Knowing Sour, she didn’t get it yet,” Indigo shrugged, pushing the accelerator. “I guess your holiday in Cambodia is cancelled, then?”
“South Africa.” Sweet Leaf produced a napkin and wiped her eyes.
“Whatever.” Indigo turned right at the intersection and looked at Sweet Leaf. “Time to face the truth, though: if you want to still play with Sour, prepare for a sick ride. I guess Lemon told you how bad she can be, right?”
“She changed,” Sweet Leaf replied.
Indigo shook her head. “She changes quite often. Sometimes for better, sometimes for worse. Try to disagree with her and you’ll see how much she changed.”
Sweet Leaf clenched her fists. “She doesn’t control it. She’s sick, but aside from that she’s a great person. She’s your friend!”
“But also an abusive idiot,” Indigo replied. “Besides, I have my own problems, okay?” She looked at Sweet Leaf again. “Fasten your seatbelts, by the way. I don’t like when someone drives without them.”
“What problems?” Sweet Leaf asked.
Indigo rolled her eyes. “For once, my friends didn’t turn out to be gossipy hens. And, no offence, but you’re the last person I’d want to talk to about my problems.” She looked around. “Where do you even want to go?”
“Oh, just drop me off somewhere in the centre,” Sweet Leaf replied. “I have to think of a few things before going home.”
“Hope it doesn’t involve jumping in front of other people’s cars or asking Lemon to come to South Africa with you.” Indigo said, pushing the accelerator harder; she’d seen the green light in the distance and wanted to get there before it turned to red.
“Actually, I thought more of weed and self-loathing,” Sweet Leaf replied. “You ever have those days when nothing seems to go right?”
“Sometimes.” Indigo sighed. “Except I don’t smoke weed or drink.”
“Straight edge?”
“No, I just don’t give a fuck.” Indigo noticed that the light was about to turn to yellow. She pushed the accelerator, trying to turn left at the last moment. “Though I like the songs.”
“Watch out!” Sweet Leaf exclaimed.
“What?” Indigo looked left. She opened her mouth, but her words drowned in screeching of the brakes and the sound of a car horn. Instinctively, she shielded her face with her hands, closing her eyes.
The world spun around her. She rested her head against the wall, taking a few deep breaths. It helped her clear her mind a little bit, but unfortunately, it also caused her stomach to twist. She leaned forward, shuddering, before throwing up on the pavement.
“Lemon? You okay there?”
Lemon blinked, but her vision remained blurry. Still dry-heaving, she raised her head and looked around, searching for the source of the voice. “Sour Sweet?” she whispered.
“Why does everyone think I’m my sister?”
“Sweeten Sour.” Lemon staggered towards her. “Nice to see you…”
“Yeah, totally what I needed,” Sweeten Sour muttered. “Hiding at the staircase from my siblings, only to find you puking on the floor. Lovely evening, isn’t it?”
“Indeed.” Lemon wrapped her arm around Sweeten Sour. “Will you take me home? I’m scared of those stairs.”
Sweeten Sour winced. “Eww, you smell! Also, why did you even get so shit-faced? Nobody ever lets me in the bar!”
Lemon hiccuped, causing Sweeten to back off. “Everybody loves me there… I’m so alone... And haven’t you heard of Indigo?”
Sweeten Sour shrugged. “No, what about her?”
Sweet Leaf opened her eyes. She tried to get up, only to roll back on the asphalt, groaning. All she could see was a bit of the sky, as well as the open car door with a broken window. Her nostrils were filled with the smell of fuel; she made another attempt to get up, nearly screaming when her right leg exploded in pain.
Someone appeared above her. Sweet Leaf couldn’t quite see their face, nor she could discern their words. She winced, trying to focus.
“Don’t move,” the paramedic said. “You had an accident.”
Sweet Leaf couldn’t quite remember that fact; she also couldn’t see the sky anymore, just some greyish-blue mass with orange tinges in front of her eyes. However, she noticed that her hearing improved. For a moment, she felt like flying, but then she landed on something soft. She heard the door closing and when the paramedics spoke again, she noticed that their voices now had some additional reverb, as if they were in some small room.
“How’s the driver?” the paramedic asked.
“Surprisingly well, for someone who was inches from being crushed by a truck,” someone else replied. “When we cut her out of the car, she woke up for a moment and muttered something about a baby. The guys are looking everywhere, but there was no baby there. Not even a seat for one.”
There was a brief pause. Sweet Leaf felt someone touched her, but it seemed like it was coming from a great distance; just an echo of a familiar sensation. She tried to see what that was, but the blurry light just above her was blocking most of her view.
“Talk with the doctor,” the paramedic said. “She may be pregnant. She seemed too young, but better safe than sorry.”
“Well, hope she’s better than this one.”
Sweet Leaf shuddered. She tried to get closer to the paramedics, but she couldn’t move, so she focused on listening.
“Typical stuff,” the paramedic said. “No seatbelts. Right after the accident she got out of the car and talked with people, so everyone thought she was fine until she collapsed.”
“Of course,” the other paramedic replied. “At least she’s stable now.”
Sweet Leaf heard someone moving next to her.
“That’s what I don’t like.” The first paramedic’s voice seemed rather close to her. “Stable patients just wait to pull some stunt on you at the worst moment.”
“Her heart rate just went up.” The second paramedic’s voice grew louder, almost hurting Sweet Leaf’s ears. “Do you think she can hear us?”
Sweet Leaf never wanted to nod more in her entire life. She tried to move, but it only ended in sharp chest and leg pain. The fact that she randomly remembered someone in the hospice telling her that hearing was the last sense to go out before death didn’t help; she felt like falling into a bottomless void overcoming her and crushing her lungs. The pain was unbearable. Sweet Leaf could barely hear the paramedics now, even though she was aware of the commotion around her.
Then, like a flickering flame of a burnt candle, the pain disappeared.
A jolt of pain caused Indigo to hiss. She tried to get up, only to find out that something was holding her in place. Groaning, she clenched her eyes shut, trying to turn in her bed. Again, with no success.
“Try not to move too much.”
Indigo opened her eyes and looked around. The world spun around her and she nearly lost consciousness again. After a few attempts, she managed to focus her gaze on the nurse standing next to the bed. “What happened?” she asked.
“You had an accident and you’re in a hospital,” the nurse replied.
“Wow,” Indigo muttered. She tried to remember the accident, but it only made her head hurt. “Dad’s gonna kill me for the car.”
The nurse nodded, her expression remaining unchanged. “Do you remember anything?”
“Not the accident.” Indigo groaned. “I remember that my name is Indigo Zap, I’m eighteen and I want some morphine or something because everything hurts.” She inhaled sharply, clenching her teeth.
“You can’t really take much,” the nurse replied. Indigo couldn’t quite see her and, as she discovered, trying to move her head only made it worse. “But I’ll see what can we do.”
“Okay.” Indigo muttered, staring at the IV bag above her. After a while, her vision blurred and she fell asleep again.
When she woke up, the room was much brighter. She winced and turned away; the sun was hurting her eyes. Immediately, she felt another jolt of pain from her neck. Indigo groaned and cursed under her breath; when she opened her eyes, she saw that someone was sitting by her side.
“Sugarcoat,” she muttered. “I expected many people around my death bed, but you were the last on the list.”
Sugarcoat shrugged. “It’s 2050, many things have changed,” she replied. “You were in a coma for quite a while…”
“You’re either shitting me or we have good plastic surgeons in the future,” Indigo said. “And I see you’re still into our school uniforms.”
“You got me.” Sugarcoat smirked. “Your parents are talking with the doctor now and Bulk seems pretty down right now.”
“Why?” Indigo shuddered. “Is it about the baby?! Did it–”
“No, surprisingly,” Sugarcoat replied. “Little Indy turned out to be pretty tough, but the doctors and your parents are still waiting for the results of some tests. Also, Sunny Flare went hysterical, so they had to escort her out.”
“What even happened?” Indigo asked. “And where is Lemon? Was she in the car with me?”
“Calm down or someone’s gonna kick me out.” Sugarcoat stood up and moved her seat closer to the bed so Indigo could see her better. “I was told not to stress you, but you’re pretty good at this yourself.”
Indigo rolled her eyes. “Oh, forgive me for worrying about you all! Also, I won’t be any less stressed if you keep talking shit.” Indigo fell back on her pillow, panting.
“Lemon’s fine. She wasn’t there.” Sugarcoat took off her glasses and looked at them, as if searching for dirt on the lenses. “For some reason you didn’t notice some idiot in a truck who ran past the red light and t-boned you. You apparently have so much screws and bolts in your left leg that you won’t be let on any plane anytime soon.”
“Fuck planes.” Indigo groaned. “What else did I break? It’s like everything hurts.”
“Left leg, left hand, damaged spine…” Sugarcoat shrugged. “If it hurts, it means you’re still able to move, so there’s that.”
“I’m totally grateful,” Indigo muttered. “Now, why Bulk isn’t here? Are you hiding something?”
“He’s fine,” Sugarcoat replied. “And I’m not hiding anything.”
Indigo winced in pain. “Bullshit,” she spat, exhaling sharply. “I can see you’re hiding something. You keep playing with your glasses.”
Sugarcoat rolled her eyes and put her glasses on. “That’s one of the things I’m not supposed to tell you, but fuck this. For some reason, hell only knows why, Sweet Leaf was in your car.”
Indigo furrowed her eyebrows. “I think I picked her up on my way from school… Not sure why. It’s all kinda blurry.”
“Figures,” Sugarcoat replied. “Anyway, at first it seemed she was fine. She got out of the car on her own and stuff, but then she got worse. She’s here.”
“Is she alright?” Indigo asked, looking at her left, bandaged hand. “Well, I kinda am.”
“Well, she’s most definitely fine,” Sugarcoat replied, standing up. “I need to tell Bulk you’re awake.”
“Dunno…” Indigo muttered. “I may go to sleep again. I’m tired.”
“Yeah, that’d be fine, I guess.” Sugarcoat shrugged. “Rest and heal, I guess.”
She turned back and left the room. After closing the door, she took a few deep breaths and ran down the corridor. A few seconds spent hiding behind the corner and she walked down the stairs, still shuddering.
“How’s she?”
Sugarcoat jumped back. “Don’t sneak on me like that!”
“I keep standing here,” Bulk replied. “It’s you who just ran out as if the ward was on fire.”
“It may soon be.” Sugarcoat sighed. “I almost told Indigo about Sweet Leaf.”
Bulk froze. “What exactly did you tell her?”
“That Sweet Leaf is here,” Sugarcoat replied, lowering her head. “I didn’t tell her that she’s probably braindead and if we don’t pull the plug, she may as well stay here for years, never to wake up. Indigo has enough problems even without knowing that.”
Bulk nodded, resting his back against the wall and rubbing his forehead with his index finger and thumb. “How am I supposed to tell her?”
“Don’t,” Sugarcoat replied. “Someone will, I guess. Nurses like to talk. A teen dying in an accident will be all over the local news. If I couldn’t bring myself to tell her, you won’t either.”
“I’d rather tell her myself,” Bulk said. “She’s pregnant. She barely survived an accident and she can be permanently disabled. If she hears about Sweet Leaf… This may kill her.”
Sugarcoat shook her head. “Indigo is strong. In a few days… After she gets better I may tell her myself.” She shrugged. “Right now, I have Sour, Lemon, and Sunny to deal with.”
“How are they?” Bulk asked.
“You’ve seen Sunny,” Sugarcoat replied. “She doesn’t give a shit about Sweet Leaf, but she wants to rip the other driver apart for Indigo. Lemon… Hell, I don’t want to know how she deals with that. As for Sour, no one told her about the accident yet. Again, she’s not well enough to–”
“She’ll notice that Sweet Leaf stopped coming to her,” Bulk said. “And, as you said, nurses like to talk.”
“Hope they’re less likely to talk around someone who occasionally cuts people with razor blades.” Sugarcoat sighed and walked towards the stairs. “Gotta go… I’d better check if Sunny or Lemon didn’t do anything stupid. I think Indigo sleeps now, but you’d better go to her later.”
Bulk only nodded, watching Sugarcoat as she left.
Lemon Zest staggered, falling into Sweeten Sour’s arms. Wincing, Sweeten helped her up and moved back, dodging all the Lemon’s attempt to grab her.
“So, Indigo is in the hospital and Sweet Leaf may be dead…” Lemon wept, trembling and resting herself against the wall. “Why this keeps happening to me?”
“I’d say it’s happening to everyone else.” Sweeten Sour sighed. “Yet another thing I’ll have to tell Sour…”
“Sour’s a bitch,” Lemon slurred. She finally gave up trying to stand and sat on the stairs, resting her head on her hands.
“I’ll agree not only because you’re drunk, but also because I also think she’s a bitch,” Sweeten Sour replied. “Like, she can just fuck up your life. I know Sweet Leaf. And yet, my first thought wasn’t about her, but about Sour. How Sour will take that, what will Sour do, say, all that shit.”
Lemon hiccuped, her eyes focused on Sweeten Sour.
“Why do I bother? You won’t remember that conversation tomorrow anyway.” Sweeten Sour shook her head.
“Can you… take me home?” Lemon muttered. “Like, really.”
“Your home,” Sweeten Sour replied. “I may look like my sister, but I’m not into you at all. Besides, you still reek.”
“Sorry…”
Sweeten Sour helped her up and started to half-lead, half-drag her up the stairs. It wasn’t easy; while Sweeten was indeed similar to her sister, she was also shorter than her and not as strong.
“Thanks, Sour…” Lemon whispered. Her eyes were half-closed and it seemed that her legs didn’t quite follow the rest of the body.
Sweeten Sour sighed. “Sweeten. Call me Sour once more and I’ll push you down…”
Sunny Flare rubbed her forehead and squinted, staring at the computer screen. It was the only source of light in the dark room, which basically meant Sunny’s bloodshot eyes hurt and she had to constantly fight the urge to nod off.
Shaking her head, Sunny grabbed the kettle and poured herself a glass of diet tea. It most definitely contained fiber; same with the oatmeal cookies lying on a tray next to the kettle. Recently, Sunny started to eat it in large doses, trying to compensate for the years of damage done to her digestive tract with alcohol and fast food. The results so far were astounding; Sunny was happy that, after leaving school, she lost the last remnants of social life, or else it could be seriously hampered by the side effects of her diet.
By now, however, Sunny didn’t care about it. It was 3 AM and she was still at her computer. She turned it on with the intent of finding the driver of the car which hit Indigo and ruining his life, but half a kettle of tea and a few hours of trying to find some lead on the news sites, she realised that it’d do more harm than good.
She spent another hour or so chatting in Japanese with the man she’d often referred to as her boyfriend; in fact, they’d met in person once. He was pretty secretive about his address, but it was no problem for Sunny; while on vacation in Tokyo two years ago, she managed to track down his IP address in four days, with another three before she managed to find his flat in Suginami.
She knocked on the door several times. When this didn’t work, she started yelling that she was an NHK fee collector. Eventually, there was a reaction. Someone inside shouted that he didn’t have a TV and that he’d never heard such a horrible Japanese accent before.
Sunny laughed, remembering those days. In fact, he did let her in; she spent about ten minutes in his flat, trying to start a conversation, but he wasn’t very talkative. Interestingly, once she left, he immediately started writing to her; she guessed he felt more comfortable that way.
Yawning, Sunny looked at the screen. It was getting somewhat blurry; she realised that no amount of tea and oatmeal cookies would save her from falling asleep with her face on the keyboard, she quickly typed a few words of goodbye and switched the computer off. She then lay down on her bed, trying to figure out some plans for the next day. However, it didn’t last long. Not long after her head touched the pillow, she was sleeping, snoring loudly.
Indigo gritted her teeth, trying not to scream. No matter what Sugarcoat told her about feeling pain and being able to walk, her leg still hurt. She was pretty sure she could feel every single screw, rod, and wire used to fix her bones. Clenching her eyes to stop herself from crying, she propped her back against the cushion. After checking if she was at the right place, Indigo took a deep breath and nearly blacked out when her ribs decided to join the symphony of pain.
It took a few minutes before the pain died down. Indigo looked around and saw the nurse standing by the door. “You have a friend over,” she said. “Another one.”
Indigo nodded. Her lips formed a pained half-smile when she saw Sunny Flare who walked in her room and sat on the chair. Indigo noticed that she still wore the pleated skirt which was a part of their school uniform, although a spiked choker, mismatched thigh-highs and a black t-shirt of Jem and the Holograms Sunny probably had last worn when she was thirteen would most likely make Principal Cinch have a heart attack.
“Hello,” Indigo muttered. “Did something happen? You look like a minor villain from a cheap anime.”
“I slept for four hours,” Sunny replied. “What you see is a blend of my mind being fucked and me trying to divert people’s attention from my face looking like I’m not getting enough sleep.”
“No, your face always looks like that,” Indigo chuckled, wincing when she felt needles of pain piercing her left leg.
“Very funny,” Sunny deadpanned. “Anyway, I went to get more tea and I decided to pay you a visit to tell you that I didn’t do anything stupid. Like, I didn’t hire a hitman to kill that guy, I didn’t get drunk, and–”
“Could you shut up?” Indigo asked. “I’m sorry for being rude, but my leg really hurts. Also, I’m pretty sure it moved a few times.” She pointed at her stomach. “Hope my ribs heal before it starts kicking.”
“Aww, little Indy started to kick?” Sunny leaned over Indigo. “Can I listen?”
“Call it ‘little Indy’ again and I will kick you, even if it means they’ll have to pull all those metal bits in my leg back together,” Indigo said. “Seriously, I’d ask the doctors to cut my leg off, but–”
“You wouldn’t stand it?” Sunny chuckled. “Also, I like ‘little Indy’ much more than ‘it’. Why do you call it that, anyway? Sounds like just another health problem you have.”
“Maybe because it feels that way,” Indigo replied. “I don’t want to be a mother. I just want to be done with it… Don’t tell Bulk, but after the accident, for a moment I thought it died. It was kinda sad, but I felt… dunno, relief? I was happy it was over.” She sighed. “I’d be a crappy mother for this child…”
“You don’t bother with bonding, I see?” Sunny shrugged. “Hoping that little Indy finds someone who loves her and is a better mother for her than you?”
“More or less,” Indigo replied. “And don’t call her little Indy. I don’t even know if it’s a boy or girl.”
Sunny chuckled. “You can always let her decide herself. Anyway, I see that what you figured out is more or less like my contingency plan in case I ever got drunk and impregnated by some fu–”
“You were usually drinking alone or with your mom,” Indigo muttered. “Also, from those rare moments when you were drunk in public, you seemed too crazy and obnoxious for normal guys and we were pretty good at scaring off creeps.”
Sunny rolled her eyes. “Oh, thank you for the detailed analysis of reasons why I can’t get laid.”
“My leg hurts, I’m tired, and I can’t sleep,” Indigo replied. “And now you’re here, giving me a headache.”
“I get it.” Sunny sighed. “You want me to leave.”
“No, I’m just tired,” Indigo said. “It’s not you, I told everyone to get out today.” She rolled her eyes. “To think that Sweet Leaf got out of it almost unscathed…”
“She did?” Sunny asked. “I mean… Someone told you that?”
“No one did, so I guess it’s nothing serious enough to bother,” Indigo replied. “Unless…” Her eyes focused on Sunny. “Where is she?”
“Sweet Leaf?” Sunny moved back with her seat. “She’s, umm… Well, from a certain point of view, you could say–”
“She’s dead, isn’t she?” Indigo asked.
Sunny froze. “Where did you get that idea?”
“Your face,” Indigo replied. “I can’t walk but I’m not blind. What happened to Sweet Leaf?”
“She’s alive,” Sunny Flare said slowly, trembling. “Unconscious.”
“That’s what Sugarcoat told me after I woke up,” Indigo replied. “Is she still unconscious? It’s been two weeks since the accident, I think… The calendar doesn’t quite agree with me.”
“More or less.” Sunny shrugged. “You were in an induced coma for a few days. She’s, to put it bluntly, a vegetable.” She lowered her head. “Something with hemispheres not working correctly. The doctors say she may get better, but so far she’s not responding.”
“Damn,” Indigo muttered. “How did this even happen? She was in the passenger’s seat. Far away from the truck that changed my femur into a bloody puzzle.”
“From what I know, she got hit on the head,” Sunny replied.
Indigo sighed, staring at the wall. “As if this wasn’t enough…”
“I’ll better go now.” Sunny got up from her seat and left the room quickly. She rushed as far from Indigo’s room as possible, running across the corridors and staircases. Barely avoiding a collision with a couple of paramedics and a nurse, she walked through some door.
She looked around. The corridor was dimly-lit and those few nurses and doctors she noticed were pretty quiet. Sunny turned to look the other way, but all she saw was a clinging doctor’s scrub with a name tag saying “Dr. Meadowbrook”. Sunny took a step back and looked up, into the eyes of a blue-skinned woman with red hair tied in a long bun.
“Hello,” Dr. Meadowbrook said. “Are you looking for something?”
“Umm… Where am I?” Sunny asked, only to notice the large letters on the wall behind the doctor. “Intensive care unit?” she read.
“ICU, yes,” Dr. Meadowbrook replied.
“I see you too.” Sunny sighed. “Actually, I came here to visit a friend, but I got a bit lost and–”
The doctor frowned but then nodded. “You mean that girl who had an accident? I’ll take you to her.”
“Yes, but I just–” Sunny shrugged when Dr. Meadowbrook turned back and walked toward one of the rooms. Having no other choice, Sunny followed her. They walked down the hall and stopped in front of the door.
“The nurses just finished washing her,” Dr. Meadowbrook said. “Don’t be afraid of her. Who knows, maybe she’ll hear you?”
“Yeah… Maybe,” Sunny muttered when Dr. Meadowbrook pushed the door open.
For a brief moment, Sunny wanted to turn back and run away, but then she overcame that feeling and slowly walked forward.
Surrounded by the medical equipment purpose of which Sunny didn’t know, the bed looked small. Sweet Leaf looked even smaller; she barely looked like herself, as most of her hair had to be cut before the surgery. Her head was wrapped in bandages, but unlike Indigo, she only had minor wounds otherwise. Her eyes were closed and her calm breath was punctuated by the sound of a heart monitor.
Sweet Leaf didn’t reply. Sunny noticed how thin and pale she looked and shuddered, walking closer to the bed.
“So…” Sunny cleared her throat. “It’s weird, right? We were taking care of all those old, sick people and I hated it, right? But you… You liked it. And now you’re here…” She wept loudly, covering her face with her hands. “Just… This is stupid. Why did this happen?”
Still, there was no answer. Sunny took a napkin and wiped her eyes. “I really wanted to get that postcard from Africa. Remember? You promised you’d send me one to prove that you really believed that shit you kept telling me… And I didn’t listen, because…” She started to cry again.
A few minutes later, she wiped her eyes again and took a deep breath. “I didn’t mean to come here, but… Well, the doctor said there’s a chance you hear me. I wanted to apologise for all the mean things I did to you. And for the photos. I was a drunken cunt, but that’s not an excuse. I’m really sorry…” She leaned over the bed and grabbed Sweet Leaf’s hand. “If you hear me, wake up…”
“Are you alright?”
Sunny trembled and turned back to see some woman standing in the room. She didn’t know who she was, but the long, green hair were a hint Sunny couldn’t miss. The woman walked to her and nodded solemnly.
“I’m sorry,” Sunny said. “I just… We used to work in the hospice together.”
“Ah, Sweet Leaf told me about you,” the woman replied.
“She did?” Sunny raised her eyebrows. “If so, I’d better go now…”
“You must be Lemon Zest, right?” the woman asked. “I’m Clover. Sweet Leaf’s mother.”
“N-no, I’m Sunny Flare,” Sunny replied. “Possibly the worst human being in existence. She must’ve mentioned me.”
“Ah, it’s you.”
Sunny closed her eyes, waiting for the punch.
“She said you were a bit lost, but she hoped you’d find a way,” Clover said, looking at Sunny and wincing slightly at her clothes. “Did you?”
“Somewhat,” Sunny replied. “Not really. This whole situation… My friend also was in that accident. And this… This is just not right.” She looked at Clover and sighed. “I’ll better go.”
“No, you can stay,” Clover said.
Sunny sighed. “But I don’t want to. I’ll be honest: I never really liked your daughter and if she ever said that she liked me, she was probably lying, if not to you, then to herself. I… I was bad to her. Really bad. Even today, I ended up here by accident. It sucks that she ended up like this, but no matter what he said, I’m not her friend.” She lowered her head. “I never was. And I won’t have an occasion to be, I guess.”
Clover patted Sunny’s head. “You have a good heart, Sunny Flare.”
“You know nothing about my heart.” Sunny shook her head and walked by Clover, leaving the room.
She only calmed down in front of the hospital. For a while, she stood in the street, taking deep breaths. A part of her kept telling her to go to one of the stores where no one bothered to check the buyer’s age and get drunk out of her mind. Sunny’s throat was dry, but she gritted her teeth, reminding herself that there were almost sixty days since she last drank alcohol and it’d be a shame to ruin it like that.
After a few minutes of struggle, she managed to fend off any thoughts of drinking. However, she suddenly realised that she wanted to smoke. She’d gotten rid of her e-cigarette a while ago, so it was out of question. Eventually, she went back to the hospital’s cafeteria, buying a plastic cup full of cheap tea, just to keep her hands occupied. She also managed to bum a cigarette from the girl working at the cafeteria.
She walked back outside and went down the street. The tea was burning her fingers and the cigarette made her stomach twist. She smoked a half of it before throwing it away and focusing on her tea. It was hot and almost black; those were probably the only good things Sunny could tell about it.
She sat on the bench, looking at the trees and bushes in front of her; they just started blooming. Birds were singing and Sunny could see people walking around, chatting happily.
She took another deep breath, getting rid of the remains of smoke in her lungs. “Why does it have to be so fucked up?” she asked.
There were times, when Flash Sentry had no idea what he was doing. This usually happened on Friday evenings, during the meetings of Canterlot High Society of Musicians. He didn’t appear there frequently, but this time Muffins basically dragged him there for some reason. Now he was sitting on the couch in Octavia’s flat, watching as Vinyl Scratch tried to play piano. He could see Octavia and Bon Bon cringing with every note while Lyra bobbed her head to the nonexistent rhythm.
Muffins cleared her throat. “So, you may wonder why I gathered you here…”
“Probably not to listen to Vinyl,” Bon Bon said. “Unless you really hate us.”
Vinyl stopped playing and flipped Bon Bon off before starting to bang on the keys again, this time butchering a barely recognisable rendition of The Streets of Cairo.
“Not really,” Muffins said, raising her voice. “I was just thinking that we should do something for Indigo and Sweet Leaf soon. Like, there’s April Fools soon…”
“And Easter,” Lyra said. “For once, I can prank people telling them to hunt for nonexistent eggs.”
Bon Bon groaned and rolled her eyes. “Way to go, Lyra.”
“Way to succeed.” Lyra smirked. “And the way to suck eggs.”
“Whatever,” Octavia muttered, turning to Muffins. “We already donated blood. Hell, I even managed to drag Vinyl there, but she fainted seeing the needle. And she somehow weighs about a hundred pounds despite eating more fast food than our whole basketball team, so she’s too light anyway.”
“How is that even possible?” Flash asked.
“Genetics.” Octavia rolled her eyes and turned back to Muffins. “Anyway, what would you want to do? Some concert?”
“That’s what I was thinking, yeah,” Muffins replied. “Maybe raising some funds. I already talked to Indigo and Bulk about that…”
“No way, Muffins!” Indigo exclaimed. “I don’t need money. Give them to Sweet Leaf’s mother. Or to sick children in Africa or whatever.”
Bulk nodded. “It’s a good idea, but how do you want to organise all that? It’s just a few more days.”
“I’ll think of something,” Muffins replied. “Besides, it’s not like it’s the first time, right? Also, Indigo, are you sure you don’t want money? You have a baby and you crashed your car…”
“And my father is talking about football on TV for a living,” Indigo said. “Also, I don’t think I’ll need a car for a while…” She pointed at her leg. While her left hand was mostly healed by now, the complicated fractures of her femur, tibia, and fibula still needed time, another surgery to remove the screws, and a long rehabilitation to heal.
How well it’d heal, Indigo preferred not to think. She just couldn’t imagine herself limping or groaning in pain with every step.
“Indigo’s right,” Bulk said. “Sweet Leaf’s parents aren’t that well-off and who knows how long she’ll stay here.”
“Assuming she ever gets out.” Indigo sighed. “I shouldn’t have let her drive with me.”
“Who knew this would happen,” Bulk replied. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I was kinda distracted before the accident,” Indigo said. “I could’ve noticed this guy earlier…”
“Bothering yourself with it won’t turn back time,” Muffins replied. “But we can still do something for Sweet Leaf, right?”
Indigo rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” She turned to Muffins. “Could you leave me and Bulk alone? I’m really not in a mood for anything right now and you’re giving me a headache.”
Muffins nodded, backpedalling. “Okay, sure. I won’t be bothering you,” she said quickly before leaving the room. When she closed the door, Bulk looked at it before turning to Indigo.
She noticed his expression and sighed. “Before you ask, I had to,” she muttered, lowering her head.
“So… She generally agreed,” Muffins said. “She doesn’t want money, though.”
Flash shrugged. “So, are we going to make a concert? This may take a while. People have schedules and such.”
“We can always make a charity auction,” Muffins replied. “The highest bidder gets to spend a night with me.”
“What?” Flash raised his eyebrows.
Muffins smirked. “You know, so they can watch me as I shoot noobs in their fancy tanks.”
Lyra started to chuckle. “Big cannons…” she managed to mutter before Bon Bon poked her.
“As for schedules, I can come and play.” Octavia produced her phone. “Also, we’ll never know if we don’t ask.” She tapped on the screen.
The low-pitched sound caused the walls of the rehearsal hall to shake. Everyone who could hear it—which probably included a few people in the street—winced, covering their ears.
“Too much fret buzz,” Sandalwood said. “Also, I’m no bassist, but I’m pretty sure your technique is the best way to get carpal tunnel syndrome.”
Sugarcoat sighed, looking at the instrument in her hands. “Well, just yesterday I didn’t know acoustic basses existed and now I’m trying to play one.” She yanked a string, causing it to hit against the frets with a metallic sound. She noticed Captain Planet groaning at that, so she did it again.
“Do we really need a bass guitar anyway?” Paisley asked Sandalwood. “Especially since she clearly can’t play.”
“Didn’t stop Vicious Sid,” Sugarcoat muttered, poking the strings with her fingers and trying different sounds – a wide variety of them, even though they were all horrible.
“Yes, but we’re playing ecological folk and you’re neither ecological nor really into folk,” Captain Planet replied.
“Oh, sorry that I don’t brag about the size of my carbon footprint.” Sugarcoat rolled her eyes.
Before Sandalwood could say something, they heard some regular buzzing sound.
“It’s not me this time,” Sugarcoat muttered.
“Sorry.” Paisley grabbed her phone. “Octavia? What? Of course we can. Once we kick out our bassist. Yes, we have a bassist… For about five minutes. Yes. Cheers.”
“What’s up?” Captain Planet asked.
“Octavia asked if we’d play a gig for Sweet Leaf,” Paisley replied.
“Sure,” Captain Planet said.
Sandalwood nodded. “Of course.”
“I can’t play bass,” Sugarcoat muttered. “Or anything, for that matter.”
Captain Planet smirked. “You’re fired.”
Rainbow Dash stood in the middle of the gym with her arms akimbo and shook her head. “What exactly are you doing, Twilight?”
Twilight slipped off the incline bench and landed on the floor, gasping for air. “Dying, I think.”
“Come on.” Rainbow Dash helped Twilight up and looked at her. “I know at least ten exercises that are better than sit-ups.”
“Are we going to do all ten?” Twilight’s eyes widened.
Rainbow Dash chuckled. “No, just one or two. Your stomach muscles will be pretty sore tomorrow anyway, I guess.”
Twilight’s muscles tensed at this perspective, but before Rainbow could show her any of the exercises, they heard her phone ringing. Rainbow Dash sighed and walked to the window, picking the phone up from the sill.
“What’s up?” she asked. “Octavia? Easter? Can do. Pinkie and Fluttershy may be unavailable, but if we drag some replacement drummer out of the closet… Wait, Flash Drive is playing? Ask Flash if we can borrow Brawly Beats for a few songs. until Pinkie joins us. Because I’m sure she’ll get there even if she’d have to be in two places at once… Yeah. See you.” She tapped the screen and turned to Twilight. “We’ll be playing for Sweet Leaf on Sunday.”
“Cool,” Twilight replied. “Who else is playing? I need to work on the schedule so the transitions between bands are–”
Rainbow Dash waved her hand. “Yeah, sure. Flash’s band, Sandalwood’s band, Octavia…” She looked at her phone. “Wait, I wonder if they called Trixie.”
The Great and Powerful Trixie had to work on her image. Unlike with Rainbow Dash, it didn’t meant frequent exercise to keep herself at the top of her physical prowess, but rather frequent beauty sleeps.
She just turned in her bed, when she heard her phone ringing. Some people thought using Tricks Up My Sleeve as a ringtone was too excessive even for Trixie, but she didn’t care.
It took a while before she opened her eyes and realised the song wasn’t a part of her dream. Groaning, Trixie grabbed the phone and picked up the call.
“Rainbow Dash?” she asked. “Do you know what time is it? Not even nine PM? The Great and Powerful Trixie doesn’t give a damn about that! What? A concert? Trixie doesn’t know… Wait, you’re going? Yeah, then Trixie is going to play too. Of course Trixie is better! Bye.” She put the phone on the nightstand and lay her head on her pillow.
Next to her, something moved and Lavender Lace’s head emerged from under the blanket. Her hair was messy and it seemed that she didn’t quite wake up yet.
“What’s going on?” she asked, resting herself on Trixie’s arm.
“We have a show to play,” Trixie replied.
“Right now?” Lavender looked down at her outfit, realising that it was rather incomplete. “Where’s Fuchsia when you need her?”
“Shh… Not now,” Trixie muttered, patting Lavender’s head. “Go back to sleep.”
Contrary to Flash’s fears, the rehearsals started soon after. Despite such a short notice, the bands soon swarmed the concert hall in the youth centre, filling it with guitar riffs, drumbeats, and assorted sounds made by someone who couldn’t play an accordion, but still had a lot of enthusiasm.
Muffins slid the bow across the saw, causing Octavia to shudder and turn to her, still wincing.
“Hey, I thought the ‘No Stairway to Heaven’ rule doesn’t apply if you play it on a saw,” Muffins said.
“It’s not that,” Octavia replied, plucking the string of her cello and tuning it a bit lower. “Your saw is the only instrument that can make Stairway to Heaven sound that hellish.”
“You should see me playing theremin then.” Muffins smiled. “I sometimes creep off my neighbours by playing saw in the middle of the night, but theremin has quite an impact too.”
“Undoubtedly,” Octavia muttered, looking around the rehearsal hall. “Seems that it’s going better than expected. I still don’t get why I’m supposed to play after you and before Lyra and Bon Bon.”
“We both use bows when playing,” Muffins replied. “Also, cello is used in classical music, but so is piano. Twilight’s words, not mine.”
Octavia sighed. “Oh bugger, is she trying for smooth transitions between bands again? Someone should tell her this is not how it works.”
“Well, she was in Crystal Prep.” Muffins started playing her saw again, causing someone’s glass of water to break. “They don’t seem to have many musical talents…”
“I don’t get what’s so exciting about it,” Indigo said. “I mean, rock covers using classical instruments are cool, but it’s all been done, I think.”
Bulk put his violin down. “Well, it’s always nice to hear something like this live. Also, Octavia prepared a few surprises, like cello versus musical saw duel.”
Indigo shrugged. “It doesn’t look like they’re letting me out to see this. Unless someone streams the whole thing and even then, wi-fi in the hospital is rather wonky.”
Bulk smirked. “Actually, I’ve heard your friends want to kidnap you from the hospital. I think it was Lemon’s idea.”
“Really?” Indigo rolled her eyes. “I need to tell Lemon to chill out. I’d want to get out, of course, but I also don’t want to break something again. Broken or not, I like my leg.”
“Yeah, it would be bad if they had to cut it off,” Bulk muttered.
“Don’t even say that!” Indigo exclaimed. “That’s still possible. You know, if it doesn’t want to heal.”
Bulk leaned over the bed, hugging Indigo and kissing her. “You’re a strong girl. That stupid leg won’t stop you.”
“Slow me down, maybe,” Indigo muttered. “I have a lot of time to think now… About us and the baby…”
“You want to keep it?” Bulk asked.
“No, of course not,” Indigo replied. “Still, I think being like, ‘welcome to this world, we don’t want you, deal with it’ is bad. Still better than trying to raise it by ourselves.”
“Well, that sounds kinda selfish,” Bulk said. “We don’t want this baby because it’d mess up our lives. If we–”
“Don’t,” Indigo muttered. “If we keep it, we won’t go to the college and end up unemployed and possibly disabled.” She looked at her leg. “The kid deserves to have better parents than that. And one day, when we’re ready, we may try again.”
“But will we?” Bulk asked.
“Oh, don’t start it now…” Indigo groaned, lying back on her bed.
The concert hall was ready. Hanging the Easter-themed decorations on the walls and hiding chocolate eggs in random places took a while and ended shortly before the start of the concert, but nevertheless it was all done.
There wasn’t much of a crowd. Many people were spending Easter with their families, sometimes far from the town. When Vinyl went on the stage to check the speakers, she noticed that Norman and most of the girls usually surrounding him weren’t there. Only Starlight stood next to the stage, accompanied by Sophisticata and Drama Letter.
Sunny Flare, meanwhile, stood by the door, watching the people carefully. She wore a pair of rather ridiculous sunglasses covering a half of her face, as well as a leather jacket, combat trousers, and a pair of heavy boots. Sugarcoat raised her eyebrows – she’d never suspected Sunny even had such an outfit in her closet.
“What is wrong with you?” Sugarcoat asked. “If you were trying to blend with the crowd, you failed.”
“I’d rather avoid people from Canterlot High,” Sunny whispered. “What if someone remembers about the selfies? Also, this outfit is flawless.”
“I like it,” Lemon said. “Do you also ride a motorbike?”
“Motorbike? Do you want to kill me?” Sunny sighed and turned to Sugarcoat. “Also, I can assure you that no one will recognise me.”
The door of the hall opened and Twilight walked inside, accompanied by Timber Spruce and Gloriosa Daisy. “Hi, Sunny!” she exclaimed, walking past them.
“Hello,” Sunny deadpanned. “What’s up?”
“Timber and I are going to a vacation together,” Twilight replied. “How about you?”
“I’m suffering a serious blow to my self-esteem caused by the fact that you and Sugarcoat are in relationships while Lemon and I are like nuns.” Sunny sighed and turned to Lemon. “Wait, aren’t you gay or something? I could always start…”
Lemon took a step back. “I’m not that gay,” she muttered.
“See?” Sunny shrugged. “Any cool girls in Canterlot High?”
“Several,” Timber said, earning a poke from both Gloriosa and Twilight.
“Did you just say ‘girls’?” Sugarcoat raised her eyebrows. “I’ll remember that.”
Sunny smiled sheepishly. “I’ve seen enough guys from Canterlot High to know it’s not the best idea.” She looked at the people gathering around the stage. “Well, maybe that one is cute.”
“I know him,” Twilight said. “His name is Snails, he’s sixteen, and he’s really interested in molluscs.”
“Sixteen? I’ll wait.” Sunny shrugged. “Though on the other hand, beggars can’t be choosers.”
Sugarcoat looked at the stage. “Seems that the concert is about to start.”
They walked towards the stage. There were a few more people there now, although Sugarcoat was pretty sure most of them were either going to perform later or they were friends and families of the musicians.
The lights went out. They heard a fanfare and, guided by a beacon light, Vinyl Scratch entered the stage. Sugarcoat knew it wasn’t possible, but it seemed like Vinyl got even taller and thinner than the last time they met.
“Hello there,” Vinyl said. “We pranked you, there’s no concert. Goodbye, you can go home.”
About half of the crowd stared at her in confusion while the rest laughed.
“Okay, I’m joking here,” Vinyl said. “Be sure to subscribe to my channel, five subscribers so far and they all hate my pranks. But the truth is, someone already made an anonymous donation for Sweet Leaf’s therapy and rehabilitation. Ten thousand dollars, I shit you not.”
Lemon Zest turned to Sunny Flare. “Of course you don’t know who was that, do you?”
“Uh-huh,” Sunny Flare muttered. “I may have talked to my dad…”
“Your talks were pretty effective,” Sugarcoat said. “Who plays first? Some classical ensemble?”
“It’s that girl with a cello that also plays soccer,” Lemon said. “And some guys playing piano and harp.”
“And a girl with a tuba,” Sunny said. “Hey, Bulk is there too.”
“It’s a sousaphone,” Sugarcoat muttered, producing her phone. “I’d better record that for Indigo.”
Sunny raised her eyebrows. “Gesundheit.” She shrugged, seeing that the crowd moved in such a way that the guy she’d noticed earlier was now close to her. She pushed herself between people getting closer to him.
“Hello,” she said when the band started playing a rendition of Mrs. Robinson. “Do you believe in love at first sight or should I walk around you again?”
“Holy shit,” Lemon muttered. “Did she forget how to pick guys up while sober?”
“Column left, march,” Sugarcoat replied. “In case shit happens, we don’t know her.”
The band went through classical versions of a couple of songs from 1960s to 1990s. At some point, they were joined by Muffins, who accompanied them on her saw, causing the weaker of the spectators to retreat to the buffets. Sugarcoat noticed quite a few newcomers. It seemed that the donations were going swimmingly.
“Hey, that’s cool,” Lemon said, making a pirouet. “Also, do you think this girl with a trumpet is a lesbian?”
Sugarcoat rolled her eyes. “It’s a sousaphone.”
“Whatever,” Lemon replied. “Of the girls I’ve been romantically involved with last year, one is in a coma and the other turned out to be a psycho bitch who is where she belongs.”
“Aren’t you a bit harsh for Sour?” Sugarcoat asked.
Lemon sighed. “Well, you’ve never asked her if she was a bit harsh for me.”
“Point taken,” Sugarcoat said, looking for Twilight. It seemed that she'd gone to dance with her friends from Canterlot High. Sugarcoat only sighed at that, turning back to Lemon.
The band just finished playing. Vinyl and some of her friends were just preparing the stage for Lyra and Bon Bon, when Sunny Flare joined Sugarcoat and Lemon. She hid her sunglasses in her pocket; they could see her eyes being wide and that she was sweating heavily.
“We have to leave,” she said. "Right now."
“Did this guy call police on you?” Sugarcoat asked. "Or did someone get out of the closet, asking you to take a seat?'
“No, he instantly fell in love,” Sunny replied. “But after hearing more facts about snails that I’m comfortable with, I decided that my standards aren’t that low.”
“Deal with it, we have to stay,” Sugarcoat said. “I need to see Sandalwood or else he’s gonna be salty. Like, I was in this band for five minutes, right? Also, I'd like to see Trixie, she has some good songs. Oh, and Lemon is currently drooling after seeing a sousaphone player with rather big, umm… virtues.” She made a round gesture around her breasts.
“Hey, I’m not drooling!” Lemon exclaimed.
“You will be…” Sugarcoat turned towards the buffets, pointing at Octavia and the sousaphone player looking at food.
“Nah.” Lemon waved her hand. “How’d it look like? I’m going to her and I’m like ‘hey, you were really good with that big trumpet, do you happen to be a lesbian’? Foolish.”
Sugarcoat raised her eyebrows. “It’s a sousaphone. Also, since when you don’t want to flirt with the first random person that catches your eye during a party?”
“Since everyone I meet turns out to be an idiot, a psychopath, or…” Lemon sighed. “Well, once Sour ended up in the hospital, Sweet Leaf ditched me completely and kept visiting her. And that’s even though I told her what Sour did to me…”
“Don’t speak ill of the dead. Or dying. Whatever.” Sugarcoat shrugged. “I always thought it was a dumb rule. If you were a wanker when you were alive, death doesn’t make you less of a wanker.”
“Can I quote that in my speech during your funeral?” Sunny asked. “Also, Lemon, you should try. Can’t be worse than this Snails guy…”
“You think so?” Lemon asked.
Sunny raised her hands. “Satisfaction not guaranteed.”
“Okay, I’m in.” Lemon walked towards the buffets. At the stage, Lyra Heartstrings just sat on the piano to sing Nobody Does It Better; Lemon started to hum the melody, passing the people with grace.
“– and then I told her ‘what a crock of shit’.” Octavia chuckled and took a sip of tea. “Like, she can’t possibly think that a flute–”
“Hello,” Lemon said.
Octavia turned to her. “Lemon Zest, right? Hello. This is Beauty Brass, my bandmate. She plays–”
“A sousaphone, I know,” Lemon replied.
Beauty Brass smiled. “Oh, finally someone who knows how it’s called.” She lay her hand on Lemon’s arm. “Who are you, Lemon Zest?”
“Screw that,” Indigo muttered, staring at the walls of the elevator. There was nothing special about them, but after spending several weeks in the hospital room, seeing something else was a nice change. “I’m not leaving this hospital in a wheelchair.”
Indigo’s dad sighed and shook his head. “The doctor said that you should watch out for your leg.”
“Just for a moment.” Indigo looked at her father. “Give me the crutches. I’d like to at least get to the car by myself.”
The elevator stopped and the door opened. Indigo’s dad pushed the wheelchair out of it and walked down the corridor.
“What if you slip and fall?” he asked. “If you don’t care about your leg and spine, at least think of the baby.”
Indigo groaned. “Just give me the crutches or I’ll go without them.”
“Stubborn like your mom.” Indigo’s father sighed, taking the crutches from the back of Indigo’s wheelchair. “I’ll catch you.”
Indigo took the crutches and stood up shakily, raising her left leg slightly. Just as her father suspected, she nearly fell; her left hand was still weakened after the accident and she couldn’t grab the crutch properly. Also, she felt strangely heavy; during the weeks she’d spent in the hospital the baby grew in her womb. A few times, she felt it move.
Indigo took a deep breath. She placed the crutches in front of her and leapt forward. Almost immediately, the left crutch slipped from her grasp and she’d fall if it wasn’t for her father grabbing her arm.
“I… I can’t.” Indigo shuddered, sitting back in the wheelchair and covering her face with her hands.
“It’ll get better,” Indigo’s dad said. “Now, let’s get you home. You got thin like a twig on this hospital food.”
“The nurses said the baby gets most of the nutrients,” Indigo muttered. “Just another crazy thing, huh?”
They walked out of the hospital. Indigo squinted; it was almost May and the sun was much higher than when she was last outside. The birds were chirping and the trees were covered in leaves.
“When your mom was pregnant, she called it crazy too,” Indigo’s dad said. “Well, after Lightning was born, she still called it crazy.”
“Oh, that explains a lot of things.” Indigo sighed. They got to the car and she carefully slipped onto the passenger’s seat while her father put the backpack with her things in the trunk. He then folded the wheelchair and put it next to it.
“You’d prefer not to deal with more craziness, right?” Indigo’s dad asked.
Indigo pointed at her leg. “In this state? How do you think?”
“I understand that you don’t want to keep the baby and why you made that decision,” Indigo’s father replied. “This doesn’t mean I like it or approve of it. But that’s your decision.”
“I’ll have to deal with that myself, yeah,” Indigo muttered. “Can we go home now? I’d rather not have that conversation in the car park.”
“And I bet you’d want to meet your friends too, right?”
“Well, yeah.” Indigo blushed. “I wonder what they’re up to.”
Sweeten Sour tiptoed into the dimly-lit room. When her eyes got used to the lack of light, she saw Sour Sweet curled up in a ball on her bed, facing the wall. She was shuddering from time to time, weeping quietly.
“Sis? Are you okay?” Sweeten Sour asked.
“Do I look like?” Sour’s voice seemed like she was not only on her regular meds, but also something the staff kept for her worse days. Sweeten Sour walked closer to her.
“I see they took your bedsheets away,” she said. “And the belt of your sleeping gown.”
“Are you surprised?” Sour groaned. “They don’t want any problems with me. Why no one bothered to tell me?”
Sweeten Sour backpedalled. “Well, I guess they were afraid of your reaction…”
“I took the news about Indigo well,” Sour Sweet muttered. “But you didn’t tell me about Sweet Leaf for a fucking month! Even though I asked you so many times why she wasn’t coming to me! I learned about it by overhearing nurses talking!”
“Well…” Sweeten Sour raised her hand.
“For your information, I’m ill, not retarded!” Sour Sweet exclaimed. “So, please, don’t treat me as such!”
“We didn’t mean to–” Sweeten Sour took another step back when Sour got up on her feet, trying to reach her. Luckily, the meds slowed down her reactions, allowing Sweeten to grab her wrist and push her back on the bed.
The door opened and a tall man in a white scrub darted inside. However, he stopped in his tracks, seeing pale Sweeten Sour standing in the corner of the room and Sour Sweet panting on her bed and rubbing her temples.
“Is something wrong?” he asked. Sweeten Sour guessed he was a nurse for more dangerous patients.
“Whatever you’re giving me, it’s not working,” Sour Sweet muttered, smirking at him. “On a scale of one to ten, I’d give my mood a solid minus five. I want to murder my sister and then myself, even if I had to bite through my veins with my teeth. Do I qualify for euthanasia? If so, count me in.”
“You don’t,” the guy replied. “However, you’d better tell that to the doctor. He’ll know what to do.”
“They didn’t know what to do for the last eighteen years!” Sour Sweet rolled her eyes and got up from her bed when the nurse walked to her. “I can walk by myself.”
As it turned out, there were several more nurses waiting outside. They escorted Sour to the doctor’s office while Sweeten looked at her before slowly lowering her head.
“I don’t know what to do with her,” she said. “Anytime it seems she gets better, something like that happens.”
“Well, we want to transfer her to another hospital, better suited for young patients,” the nurse said. “But we don’t know how she’d react now. She was never suicidal before, right?”
“Not really,” Sweeten Sour replied. “She was aggressive, yes, but not suicidal. Now she’s… broken, I think. That whole thing with Sweet Leaf… Sometimes I think Sweet Leaf was the only person that never failed her.”
“Frankly, I’ve seen worse,” the nurse said. “Most of them got better and are leading wonderful lives.”
Sweeten Sour nodded. “Yeah, that’d be nice… But I’m afraid she already fucked up her life beyond repair.”
“No one really does.”
Sweeten Sour looked at the nurse and shrugged. “Really? Well, she surely fucked up my life. And anyone else’s in the family. Not to mention that girl from her school. It’ll be hard to come back after that.” She sighed. “Gotta be going. I’ll be back when she doesn’t want to kill me.”
She walked out of the ward and stood by the elevator. Groaning, she pushed the button way harder than necessary. When the elevator arrived, Sweeten Sour walked inside, not looking back and rested her back against the wall. Letting out an audible sigh, she lowered her head, lost in her thoughts.
The crowd cheered, jumping around the stage, engulfed by smoke and colourful lights. Beauty Brass grabbed Lemon Zest and spun her around. A fast guitar solo backed by an electronic bass pulse blasted in their ears. Lemon gasped in surprise when Beauty Brass lifted her effortlessly and sat her on her back.
“Are you crazy?” Lemon exclaimed.
“Oh, come on!” Beauty Brass shouted. “That’s fun!”
“It won’t be if I fall!” Lemon replied. Suddenly, Beauty Brass leaned forward and back, causing Lemon to cling to her tighter. “Put me down!”
“Okay, okay…” Beauty Brass let Lemon slip off her back and hugged her. The song ended with a loud guitar feedback and the heart-like beating of the drum machine.
“That was Trixie and the Illusions, Through the Looking Glass!” Trixie exclaimed. “And now…” She swished her cloak dramatically, throwing a bunch of playing cards at the audience. “Queen of Hearts!”
Lemon woke up, blinking in the darkness. Even though it’d been a while from the concert, she still dreamt about it almost every night. She could still hear the heartbeat-like rhythm.
A closer examination revealed that the sound wasn’t exactly a dream. What Lemon thought to be her pillow turned out to be Beauty Brass’ chest. It was raising and falling slowly, in synch with her quiet breath.
Lemon turned in her bed and took her phone from the nightstand. She blinked several times before she managed to read the time.
“What’s going on?” Beauty Brass asked groggily. She yawned, reaching to Lemon and hugging her.
“I don’t know what you’re doing here,” Lemon replied. “Unless I’m dreaming, but this can’t be.”
“Why so?”
Lemon looked at her phone again. “If I want to get to school on time, I’ll have to get up in five minutes.”
“Damn. School.” Beauty Brass sat on the bed and reached for the t-shirt lying on the floor. “Let me guess, I didn’t bring my toothbrush. Story of my life.”
Lemon scratched her head. “What exactly happened? I’m not quite awake yet…”
“You don’t remember? Now you’re making me uncomfortable…” Beauty Brass wrapped her arms around Lemon and kissed her forehead. “We were hanging out, you mentioned that your father was playing a concert out of town, we drank a bottle of wine, then we had some fun…” She kissed Lemon again.
“Can you stop?” Lemon asked. “I need to find my uniform…”
“Sorry.” Beauty Brass broke the hug. “You know, if you play a sousaphone, you need to get used to tight hugs.”
“I think you told me that yesterday, yeah.” Lemon stood up and looked into the closet with her shirts. “Are you in a hurry? I wanted to take a shower and I know Canterlot High is further away from here.”
“No worries, we can always go together.” Beauty Brass leaned forward to pick her phone from the floor. “Hmm, my mom’s gonna kill me. Also, it seems that my boyfriend is coming back today…”
Lemon froze. “You have a boyfriend?!”
“Yeah,” Beauty Brass replied. “He’s studying to be a sailor, so he’s away for months.’
“But I… we…”
“Oh, that?” Beauty Brass smiled, patting Lemon’s back. “Don’t worry, he won’t mind. He doesn’t even have to know.”
Lemon stared at her blankly.
“We can still meet, if that’s the problem. As I said, he’s away for months.”
“I’ll better take that shower…” Lemon muttered.
Sugarcoat leaned back in her chair, looking at the phone hidden under her desk. Normally, she’d pay attention to the lesson, but she felt she already knew the topic better than the teacher. Besides, she didn’t use the internet for entertainment; she was checking out the websites and social media profiles of various colleges all across the country.
“Oh, great,” she muttered to herself. “Another safe haven for delicate morons, blase keyboard warriors, and those who didn’t get the memo that hippies died out.” She shrugged. “Hmm, I’d fit there. They need some shock.” She closed her eyes, imagining the riots.
“Sugarcoat?” Lemon Zest whispered.
“What?” Sugarcoat opened her eyes and looked at Lemon. She immediately noticed that while there was an open book in front of Lemon, she didn’t really pay attention to the lesson either. For starters, the book was upside-down. Not to mention that it was the Spanish textbook rather than physics one.
“May I ask you a question?” Lemon asked.
“I’m a bit busy right now,” Sugarcoat replied.
“Yeah, I see.” Lemon smirked. “Do you want to study physics?”
Sugarcoat nodded, smiling in a rather uncanny way. “I am become death, the destroyer of worlds.”
“Whatever,” Lemon said. “I need your opinion, destroyer of worlds or not.”
“I’m listening,” Sugarcoat muttered.
“What would you do if you found out Sandalwood was cheating on you with another dude?” Lemon asked.
Sugarcoat looked at her and slammed her head against her desk. “What?”
“It’s a long story,” Lemon replied.
Sugarcoat shook her head. “I guess I wouldn’t mind. Let’s say that Sandalwood always had that rainbow streak to him, you know. Also, he really likes when I–” She leaned to Lemon and whispered in her ear, causing her to blush.
“I need to try that,” Lemon muttered. “Anyway, let’s say it wasn’t Sandalwood, but someone you thought was only into you and suddenly you find out they were cheating on you and–”
“I’d get a can of gasoline and matches,” Sugarcoat replied calmly. “But if it was Sandalwood, I’d ask if I could join.”
“I don’t know what’d be worse,” Lemon muttered.
“Let me guess: Beauty Brass told you you weren’t the only monk in the temple?” Sugarcoat asked.
Lemon smiled sheepishly. “Kind of. And told me that he doesn’t have to know. He’s a sailor or something.”
“Did she tell you that before or after the consumption?” Sugarcoat rubbed her temples.
“After,” Lemon replied.
“Congratulations, you got laid.” Sugarcoat smirked. “Also, the guy got cucked, though his reaction depends on him. I’d watch out for random guys with axes running around and looking for you.”
Lemon rolled her eyes. “I’ll keep that in mind next time I meet a crazy axe murderer. Which may be soon, since he’s coming back today.”
“Ah, so you have a free afternoon?” Sugarcoat asked. “Good. We’ll grab Sunny on the way and visit Indigo. She came back from the hospital or something.”
“Sure,” Lemon replied.
Indigo wiped sweat from her forehead. As it turned out, most of her tank tops somehow got too small, but luckily, her mother bought her some new ones when she was at the hospital. Now she was wearing one of them, sitting on the training bench in the living room.
She looked at the weight in front of her. It was the smallest dumbbell she had at home, weighing just two pounds. Indigo grabbed it with her left hand and slowly did a bicep curl. It went well, but after only a few repetitions, she started to run out of breath. Her arm and the place where the broken bones mended hurt. Groaning, Indigo put the dumbbell on the floor.
Suddenly, she heard her phone ringing. Cursing under her breath, she stood on one leg, grabbing her crutches. She rested herself on the crutch and leapt forward, nearly tripping when her right leg, also weakened after a long stay in bed, trembled under her weight.
Luckily for Indigo, the phone wasn’t that far away. She reached for it and looked at the screen. She’d never bothered to save that number in her phone’s memory, but she knew only one place that’d still use a landline.
“Lightning?” she asked.
“Hello, sis,” Lightning Dust said. Her voice was slow and raspy; it seemed like she was mostly used to shouting and now, when she tried to lower it, it’d come out as unnatural. “I see you still remember my name.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Indigo sighed. “I know I never visit you, but I’m busy and now–”
“Mom’s also busy and she comes to me from time to time,” Lightning replied. “Don’t worry, I don’t mind. When I get out of here, I’ll even let you choose a movie we watch. Just not Shawshank Redemption, okay?”
“Well, you’re not getting out in years,” Indigo said. “And I can barely walk two steps now…”
“Yeah, I’ve heard.” Lightning’s voice cracked for a moment. “How are you?”
Indigo looked around to see if her parents weren’t coming back home. “Frankly? I feel like shit. My leg is shit, my hand is shit, my back hurts, and being pregnant doesn’t help matters.”
“Is your boyfriend good for you?” Lightning asked. “If he isn’t, tell him I’ll break out of this place just to rip his guts out.”
“He’s fine,” Indigo replied. “Don’t run away from prison.”
“I would, but I’m too dumb and I don’t like digging tunnels with a spoon.” Lightning chuckled. “Carry on, Indy. The guard is looking at his watch, so I guess I have to go. Hope you’re alright.”
“Like hell,” Indigo muttered, ending the call. She looked at the crutches, but after a while of thinking, she just used one of them to pull the wheelchair closer to herself. She sat in it, trying to straighten her injured leg. A jolt of pain made her hiss, gritting her teeth.
Still groaning, she grabbed the push-rims and pushed the wheelchair across the living room. Her father had moved most of the furniture away, leaving wider spaces between them, but still, using a wheelchair was harder than Indigo thought it’d be; her sore hand most definitely wasn’t helping.
The doorbell rang. Indigo raised her head, looking at the distant hall. When the doorbell rang again, she rolled her eyes.
“You can just open the damn door, mom!” she exclaimed. “It’s not like I can come and open!”
“I don’t have a key!” The voice most definitely didn’t belong to Indigo’s mother.
“Sunny?” Indigo asked. “You here?”
“We’re all here,” Sugarcoat said. “Can you open?”
“This will take a while.” Indigo stretched her fingers. "I'm in a wheelchair."
“We can push you back,” Sunny replied.
“I can push you off a cliff.” Indigo muttered under her breath, pushing the wheelchair forward. It took her a while to get to the door, not to mention that the tiles in the hall were quite slippery. It was also littered by shoes, making it hard to navigate. Cursing, Indigo reached the door and unlocked it.
“Hello!” Lemon walked to Indigo and hugged her. “Poor girl…”
“Yeah, I know,” Indigo muttered. “If that makes you feel better, I can get up from this wheelchair, but not when I feel like shit.”
“Hey, it’s growing!” Sunny cooed, putting her hand on Indigo’s stomach. “May I listen? Is it a boy or a girl?”
“If you try, I’ll kick your ass. With a wheelchair,” Indigo replied. “Don’t try to push me,” she said, turning to Sugarcoat who stood behind her. “I don’t like it and it doesn’t matter how long it takes me to get anywhere.” With a few swift turns of the wheels, she spun the wheelchair in place and rode towards the living room.
“So, is it a boy or a girl?” Sunny asked when they got there. “Can you even check that now?”
“Yes, I have an ultrasound in a few days,” Indigo replied. “If you’re so interested in this baby, maybe you’d adopt it?”
“No need to be rude, Indigo,” Sugarcoat muttered. “Also, I thought you wanted to find this baby some better parents than you and Bulk…”
“Yeah,” Indigo muttered. “I still wonder how to do that…”
“I can help you later,” Sugarcoat said.
“But now, we have a lot to tell you.” Sunny sat on the couch and smiled at Indigo. “Like, Sugarcoat found a college, I’m moving out of town once the vacation starts, and Lemon cucked a sailor and now she’s afraid of every man with an eyepatch…”
“I’m pretty sure not every sailor wears an eyepatch,” Sugarcoat muttered. “I’d even dare to say that most of them don’t.”
“Wait, where are you moving?” Indigo asked, raising her eyebrows.
“West,” Sunny said. “Dad wants me and mom to be closer to him. More job opportunities too, especially for a dropout like me…”
“You mean you’ll try to become an actress or a fashionista only to become a disgruntled fast food waitress, ruined by booze, drugs, and broken dreams by the time you turn thirty?” Sugarcoat asked.
“Always a ray of sunshine.” Sunny shook her head, patting Sugarcoat’s back. “Well, about that sailor…”
Sweeten Sour closed the backpack and looked at it. Even though it was small, it was enough to fit all the things Sour was allowed to take to her new hospital. As far as Sweeten knew, it provided quite a good care, way better than the psychiatric ward in Canterlot City General Hospital.
“Ignore me as much as you want, I’m not getting out of here without seeing Sweet Leaf first,” Sour Sweet muttered.
Sweeten Sour raised her head. “They took her to the hospice. I’m not sure they’d let you out just so you could go there to say hello. Besides, she isn’t very talkative right now.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Sour Sweet replied. “I just want to see her. A few minutes will do.” She sighed. “No one has to know. I just need some normal clothes.”
“I’d like to remind you that you’re not here just because you’re sick, but also because you tried to cut off a chunk of your classmate’s face,” Sweeten Sour replied. “If you run away, they’ll put you in some worse place. Not to mention that they may think I helped you.”
“I bet that’s the only thing you care about.” Sour Sweet crossed her arms. “You always only think about yourself.”
“If I did, I wouldn’t be here, helping you to pack your things,” Sweeten Sour replied. “Also, there’s no way I’m helping you go there.”
“How about I ask someone from the staff nicely?” Sour Sweet smiled. “I can have my last wish, right?”
Sweeten Sour rolled her eyes. “They’re not going to execute you.”
“Yes, but I’m leaving the town and she may die,” Sour Sweet said. “Could you talk to the doctors? They’d listen to you, I’m sure…”
Sweeten Sour shook her head.
Ten minutes later, sitting in the doctor’s office, Sweeten Sour kept cursing under her breath, wondering what exactly she was doing. She actually knew the doctor well—he used to work with her parents, after all—but she still thought it was a bad idea.
The doctor was sitting behind his desk. He looked at Sweeten and asked, “So, what exactly do you want?”
“It’s not me, it’s my sister,” Sweeten Sour replied. “She wants to see her friend in the hospice before she leaves.”
“I guess we could arrange that,” the doctor said.
Sweeten Sour raised her eyebrows. “That’s it?” she blurted out before she managed to stop herself.
“Well, I know Sour since she was a child,” the doctor replied. “When your parents decided that it’d be better for someone other than them to be her doctor, they went to me. I always found it sad that–”
“– a daughter of a pair of shrinks turned out to be a psycho?” Sweeten Sour asked. “Spare me this talk, doctor. I live with them all for almost eighteen years and I don’t need to be a doctor to know what’s going on with her. And no, I don’t want to talk about it now.”
The doctor shrugged. “I’ll see what I can do. Also, I think you should consider–”
“Definitely not now,” Sweeten Sour replied, leaving the office.
“So, you’re working here?” Beauty Brass asked, looking around. “I must admit, when Sweet Leaf told me about this place, I didn’t quite listen.”
Lemon buttoned her hospice scrub and shrugged. “I volunteer. And actually, I only came back now. You know, to have something to do…”
“I see.” Beauty Brass hugged Lemon from behind, resting her chin on Lemon’s arm. “You need something to do to forget. And a lot of hugs so you don’t fall apart…”
“Oh, stop it!” Lemon exclaimed. “Did you tell your boyfriend about us?”
“Kind of,” Beauty Brass replied. “He knows that I have a new friend. What he doesn’t know is that I really like my new friend…” She purred the last words into Lemon’s ear, kissing her.
“It still doesn’t sit well with me.” Lemon sighed, tying her hair. “Also, seriously, stop. They keep telling us about disinfecting hands and changing clothes before we go to the patients and you’re–”
“– putting my bacteria on you?” Beauty Brass asked. “Okay, I’ll stop… for now.”
“It’s not funny,” Lemon said. “My mom died because of a stupid infection.”
“Sorry to hear that.” Beauty Brass made a move as if she wanted to hug Lemon, but stopped herself. They walked out of the changing room and went down the corridor. Lemon greeted several patients and hospice workers on the way.
“Where are we going?” Beauty Brass asked. The disposable lab coat she was wearing—one of those that were given to patients’ families—didn’t quite fit her, but she didn’t seem to mind.
“To Sweet Leaf,” Lemon replied. “They put her here recently.”
“And you want to see her?” Beauty Brass asked.
Lemon lowered her head. “Yeah… To drive the nails deeper or something, I don’t know. Call me a masochist, whatever.”
“I understand,” Beauty Brass said. “You need a closure of sorts. Am I right?”
“Maybe.” Lemon shrugged.
They reached Sweet Leaf’s room. Lemon’s heart skipped a beat when she saw that the door was open. One of the hospice workers walked out of the room and looked at her and Beauty Brass.
“We’ve already cleaned her room,” she said. “We don’t need help.”
Lemon shuddered. “D-did she–”
“No, she’s fine,” the woman replied. “We got a call from the hospital. She’s going to have a visit.”
“What visit?” Lemon asked.
“That girl she kept visiting in the nuthouse.” The woman shrugged. “She apparently leaves the town, but wanted to see her before. The doctors think it’s going to have a positive effect on her mental state.”
“Oh, I’m sure…” Lemon muttered. “Can I see her? My mental state also needs some positive feedback.”
“Of course,” the woman said. “Just don’t bother her for too long. She needs peace.”
When she left, Lemon groaned. She walked into the room, clenching her fists and shuddering.
“Girl, it was all over the news,” Beauty Brass replied. “Besides, you talk in your sleep.”
Lemon froze. “What did I–”
“Just enough for me to know that Sour Sweet was in your bed before me.” Beauty Brass shrugged. “I don’t know what was between you, but I don’t think it’d be wise to yell at each other just now…” She looked at Sweet Leaf.
The room at the hospice was much more cozy than Sweet Leaf’s old room at the hospital. While it was better for her, it also made all the machines keeping her alive stand out much more. Her hair grew back, but mostly lose its shine. Similarly, her skin seemed almost grey and lifeless.
Beauty Brass looked at the clipboard by the Sweet Leaf’s bed. “PVS, GCS – eight, E – two, V – two, M – four,” she read. “What does it mean?”
“Nothing good,” Lemon Zest replied, taking Sweet Leaf’s hand. It seemed like it was just bones covered in skin and only the faint pulse indicated that she was still alive.
“Yeah.” Beauty Brass nodded and looked at Sweet Leaf. “Come on, Leafy… You can score better than that.”
“It is already a bit better,” Lemon said. “Her wounds healed. And sometimes, she seems like she’s trying to say something.”
“If that’s better, I don’t want to think how she was when she was worse,” Beauty Brass replied. “Why is she so thin? All those thingies are there to feed her, right?”
“Yes, but she doesn’t move.” Lemon shuddered, wiping her eyes. “Even though they rehabilitate her, her muscles break down. Even Indigo still has to exercise her hand and leg and she wasn’t unconscious.”
“This sucks,” Beauty Brass muttered. “Is there any hope she wakes up?” She backed off slightly, looking at Lemon. “Seriously, if I ever end up like this, someone shoot me.”
“Well, she may wake up,” Lemon said. “That’s why I came back to the hospice. I want to come to her, tell her stories and hope one day she hears me…” She sighed. “Guess we’ll have to go soon, though. If Sour is to come here…”
“We can stay,” Beauty Brass replied. “I guess you and that Sour have a history, right? If she leaves the town soon… You want closure, right? This is your chance.”
“Sweet Leaf tried to make Sour and me talk.” Lemon wiped her nose and sat by Sweet Leaf’s bed, lowering her head. “It didn’t go well. Nothing ever goes well with Sour Sweet.”
Beauty Brass shrugged. “Wouldn’t hurt to try. I prefer not to leave any business unfinished.”
“You still didn’t tell your boyfriend about me,” Lemon replied.
“Touché,” Beauty Brass said. “I can also be a hypocrite at times. And I suck at that whole relationship stuff.”
“Same.” Lemon sighed, looking at Sweet Leaf. “As you can see.”
Beauty Brass nodded, but before she could reply, someone knocked on the door. “Are you still there, Lemon?”
“Yeah,” Lemon replied, standing up. “Is Sour there? I… I want to talk to her.”
The door opened. Sour Sweet walked inside, accompanied by two nurses; both of them were rather big men, immediately making Lemon think of prison guards. Sour, on the other hand, looked mostly normal; only a hospital bracelet on her wrist indicated that she was, in fact, still a patient.
“Lemon?” Sour asked. “What are you doing here?”
“Working,” Lemon replied. “Remember? I used to do this with Sweet Leaf.”
“Yeah.” Sour Sweet lowered her head and clenched her fists. “I have to go while you stay here together… Happy.”
“Happy?” Lemon moved to the side, letting Sour see Sweet Leaf’s bed. “I don’t think that’s what she wanted,” she replied. “Or that she’d be happy without you, Sour.”
Sour Sweet rushed forward, resting herself against the frame of Sweet Leaf’s bed. “Still… Why can’t I stay with her? I’m useless… I… I’m harmless... to her. I could just sit here all days, bothering no one, taking care of her like she did for me.” She looked at Lemon. “Something you never understood.”
Lemon sighed. “It’d be easier if you weren’t…”
“Who?” Sour muttered. The nurses looked at each other and pulled her away from the bed, despite her protests. “Say it!” she shouted.
“Calm down Sour, please,” Lemon said. “I’m not taking Sweet Leaf away from you. I’m sure that if she was alright, she’d still visit you… And I remember how you took care of my when my mom died…”
Sour exhaled slowly. “So… Maybe it was me. I could still be free, she could still be healthy…” She rubbed her temples. “I don’t get it. This is too much.” She turned to the nurses. “Can I say goodbye to her?”
One of the nurses nodded. Sour Sweet walked to the bed and leaned over Sweet Leaf. “Goodbye,” she muttered. “I… I hope we’ll see each other soon.” She lowered her head and whispered something into Sweet Leaf’s ear before going back to the nurses. “Let’s go,” she said. “See you around, Lemon, and… I’m sorry. Really.”
“No problem.” Lemon walked to Sour and hugged her. “Best of luck, Sour.”
Sour Sweet raised her head and looked at Beauty Brass before turning back to Lemon. “To you too,” she whispered.
Octavia ran the bow across the strings of her cello, playing the sophisticated basso continuo. Her fingers slid along the fretboard, occasionally bending the strings, producing a wailing sound. Next to her, Bulk followed the accompaniment with his violin, adding a fast-paced melody, full of trills and ornaments.
The door of the empty concert hall opened abruptly, causing them to stop playing and look at it. They saw Beauty Brass rushing to them across the rows of seats like a battlecruiser plowing through the waves.
“What’s up?” Bulk asked.
“I’m not sure.” Beauty Brass turned around and saw Indigo sitting in one of the seats in the front row, resting her injured leg on her wheelchair. “What is she doing here?”
“I’m listening,” Indigo replied. “What else can I do?” She shrugged. “Besides, Bulk and I just came back from the doctor. I’m giving birth to a highly-evolved potato.”
Beauty Brass raised her eyebrows. “What?”
“I’m joking,” Indigo said. “It’s a girl.”
Beauty Brass looked at Bulk unsurely before turning back to Indigo. “So you’re Indigo, right? My name’s Beauty Brass.”
“I was about to ask, yeah.” Indigo looked at Beauty Brass. “Frankly, from Sugarcoat’s description I expected a female version of Popeye.”
“I don’t even eat spinach,” Beauty Brass replied. “How’s your leg?”
“I’m gonna be pretty mad if it turns out that it got shorter than the other one,” Indigo said. “Or else I’ll break my neck trying to look into Bulk’s eyes.”
“I think they can make it longer,” Bulk replied.
“By breaking it again!” Indigo exclaimed. “I guess I’ll pass.”
Octavia looked away from her cello and turned to Beauty Brass, who raised her eyebrows, listening to the conversation. “You seem nervous, dear. When you came here, I thought you were going to smash the door. Did something happen?”
“Lemon Zest, Sweet Leaf, and someone called Sour Sweet,” Beauty Brass replied.
“Sour?” Indigo asked. “They let her out of the nuthouse?”
“For a moment, it seems,” Beauty Brass replied. “Just to say goodbye.” She told them how she and Lemon had met Sour Sweet in the hospice.
“So, they finally got together,” Bulk said when Beauty Brass finished. “Could be worse.”
“It may still get worse,” Beauty Brass said. “I may have heard what Sour Sweet whispered to Sweet Leaf before they parted.”
“I hope we’ll see each other soon.” Indigo shrugged. “Sounds normal.”
“Followed by ‘in this world or another’.” Beauty Brass sighed.
“Sour says such things all the time,” Indigo replied. “Though frankly, I’ll be much calmer when she’s out of town. Like, if Sweet Leaf dies–”
“Do all Crystal Prep girls have to be so so blunt?” Octavia asked.
Bulk shrugged. “Have you ever met Sugarcoat?”
“She didn’t wake up since the accident,” Indigo said. “She may die. Hell, I may die from some random blood clot or an injury the doctors missed. Anyway, I hope Sour never learns about it. For her own good.”
“I’d prefer to know,” Beauty Brass said.
“Yes, but you’re not Sour Sweet,” Indigo replied. “Some people have emotional baggage, right? Sour has an emotional freighter ship. Lemon has one too, but she at least can get herself together.”
“She still deserves to know.” Bulk shook his head. “In the long run, uncertainty would kill her just like learning about Sweet Leaf’s death.”
Indigo shrugged. “She’s used to uncertainty. Her whole life is filled with it.” She groaned, rubbing her stomach. “I’d better go home.”
“Yeah, I guess Little Indy is tired of mom and dad arguing,” Bulk said.
Indigo gritted her teeth. “Don’t call her Little Indy.” She put her leg on the floor and stood up, staggering. Beauty Brass rushed to grab her, but Indigo turned to her.
“Don’t help me,” she muttered before sitting in the wheelchair.
“You’re not going to go all the way home on your own, do you?” Beauty Brass asked.
“My dad will drive me, thanks for asking.” Indigo rolled her eyes. “Why everyone treats me like a kid just because I need to use this?” She pushed the wheelchair up the ramp.
Bulk put his violin down. “Indigo, wait! I’ll wait for your dad with you.”
“Okay,” Indigo muttered. “Just don’t push me.”
“Sure, I know.”
As soon as they left the concert hall and went down the youth centre’s corridor, Bulk turned to Indigo. “Did something happen?”
“I’m just kinda mad,” Indigo replied. “Mad because it seems everyone but me is either going to college or just leaving the town, mad because everyone calls me a mother even though I know I’m not gonna be one, mad because Sour’s life turned into shit, mad because I may have killed Sweet Leaf, and because I can’t walk normally. Yes, something did happen.”
“I see,” Bulk said. “And of course–”
“Yes, acting like a jerk is a coping mechanism,” Indigo muttered.
“I didn’t mean to say that.” Bulk stood in front of the elevator entrance. “Also, the accident wasn’t your fault. You didn’t kill Sweet Leaf.”
“That’s what I get for being nice,” Indigo muttered. “If I just flipped her off and drove away, she’d be fine.”
Bulk shrugged. “You don’t know that.” He took a deep breath as the elevator arrived with a loud beep. “A lot of things could’ve happened to her.”
“Oh, don’t try getting into some Final Destination kinda stuff just to make me feel better…” Indigo pushed the wheelchair into the elevator. “Also, if we both didn’t get distracted, I’d notice that car earlier.”
“No use worrying about past now.” Bulk said. “It happened and nothing can be done about it.”
Indigo pushed the elevator button way harder than necessary. “I know. But this doesn’t make it any easier.” She groaned when the elevator started to move. “I’d better stop worrying. It doesn’t seem to like it.”
“It?” Bulk asked.
Indigo rolled her eyes. “Little Indy. Too bad she and my leg stop me from doing most of the things that calm me down.”
Bulk nodded. “Yeah… How about carpentry? I almost finished the boat.”
“I wouldn’t be very useful.” Indigo shrugged. “But why not? I can always watch.”
The elevator door opened. Indigo got out of it, but Bulk stayed inside. “I have to get my violin and tell Octavia that I’m going with you,” he said.
“Okay,” Indigo replied. “I can wait.”
Bulk nodded and closed the elevator’s door, going back to the concert hall. Indigo stayed at the lobby, rubbing her stomach. As far as she knew, it was way too early for the baby to get out; before the ultrasonography, the doctor told her she’d give birth in September.
Still, once the baby started to kick, it seemed to find great pleasure in doing that. Indigo, not so much. She was still feeling pain after the accident from time to time, and the fact that she constantly felt short of breath didn’t make it any better.
Indigo groaned. On one hand, she wanted to wait for Bulk in the lobby, but on the other, she felt she needed some fresh air; she also needed something to keep her mind busy, if only to stop thinking about Sour Sweet and Sweet Leaf.
Panting, Indigo turned the wheelchair towards the door. Then, she grabbed the push-rims, but before she could move, she winced. Looking around for some help, she gasped and fell off the wheelchair, clutching to her stomach.
42. The Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Pancakes
Indigo opened her eyes. She realised that somehow, she ended up in her bed. The sunlight was jarring her eyes, so she turned away from the window. Which, in this case, meant facing Bulk.
“What happened to me this time?” she asked.
“You passed out,” Bulk replied. “We went to the doctor and apparently it’s anemia again. Then we went back home and you decided to take a nap. That was yesterday. I went back home and came here in the morning. Your mom said you were asleep all the time.”
“Ah, that explains the headache,” Indigo muttered. “And why I feel like eating a hamburger. Or twenty.” She sat on her bed, immediately feeling a headrush. Rubbing her forehead, she waited for it to end and stood up.
“Indigo?” Bulk looked at her unsurely.
“Yeah, those pajamas are too small for me,” Indigo muttered, looking around the room. “Mom dressed me in them, didn’t she?”
“Yeah, but…”
“Where are my clothes?” Indigo limped to the closet.
“Indigo, you’re walking,” Bulk said.
“I do?” Indigo turned to him, suddenly hissing and grabbing her leg, resting herself against the nightstand. “Well, that’s probably the end of my feats…”
“I’ll get your crutches,” Bulk replied. “Get dressed and we can grab something to eat.”
Indigo smirked. “Sure.”
Sugarcoat walked out of the store, carrying a bag with some new clothes. Now that school was almost over, she decided that the new chapter in her life could best be started with a new attire. Besides, after the day filled with her AP courses and organising all the things related to her enrolling in college, she just wanted some rest.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t given much of it. Soon after she left the store, she met Twilight Sparkle who, it seemed, was also shopping for clothes.
“Hi, Sugarcoat,” Twilight said. “I was just thinking of calling you.”
“Why me?” Sugarcoat muttered.
“I talked with Lemon Zest recently,” Twilight replied, fixing her glasses.
Sugarcoat froze. “Oh no,” she whispered.
“It seems that we’re taking the same course, in the same place,” Twilight said, avoiding eye contact with Sugarcoat.
“Of course,” Sugarcoat muttered. “I forgot that telling Lemon anything usually results in the whole town knowing about it.” She sighed and shook her head. “So, you’re going to study physics too? Not bad.”
“Yeah,” Twilight replied. “I was just thinking… If you’d ever need a roommate…”
Sugarcoat raised her eyebrows. “Twilight Sparkle… For years, I’ve been making your life miserable. I also make terrible mess in my room, I never wash the dishes, leave the toilet seat up, and you don’t even want to know what’s going on during the red tide. You wouldn’t want to live with me.”
“Well, it’s always someone I know,” Twilight replied. “Besides, I don’t mind. I often pull an all-nighters, forget to eat, and sometimes I don’t flush. Also, I have a dog.”
“Eww…” Sugarcoat muttered. “If your dog eats my rats, I’ll throw you down the stairs. Followed by him.”
“Spike doesn’t eat rats,” Twilight replied as they walked down the aisle. “Or anything that is alive, for that matter.”
“Okay, but I’m not letting him in my room,” Sugarcoat said. “Also, I hope you’re not vegan or some other nutcase, because pretty much anything that I can cook consists of pasta and ground meat.”
“Then you’re better than me,” Twilight replied. “I can burn water, somehow. But I can always wash the dishes.”
“Yeah, that’d be great…” Sugarcoat looked at Twilight. “Wait, why are we planning to live together if we don’t want it?”
“Well, we can always try to find something…” Twilight replied. “Though we may need more roommates.”
“There’s Sandalwood. He wants to study something useless,” Sugarcoat said. “Sunny dropped out and she doesn’t need roommates anyway. How about that lumberjack boy?”
“Timber?” Twilight shrugged. “He’s staying in the camp, I’m afraid. I still wonder how to maintain that relationship…”
“Poorly, if at all.” Sugarcoat smirked. “Though the guy has his own business, so–”
“I’m not with him for his business.” Twilight blushed.
“Then why?” Sugarcoat asked. “Not for the wits, unless…” She smirked.
“He’s pretty witty, actually.” Twilight was still blushing furiously. “Speaking of, his cooking skills resemble yours.”
“So, your destiny is acute pasta poisoning,” Sugarcoat muttered, looking around. They were in the section of the mall filled mostly with bars and restaurants. “Hmm, I feel like eating something that’s not spaghetti.”
“Is that Bulk and Indigo?” Twilight asked, waving at them.
“What is she doing here?” Sugarcoat shrugged. “Weren’t she dying?”
“Lemon said she wasn’t.”
Sugarcoat sighed. “Of course.”
Indigo was, indeed, far from dying. She was sitting with Bulk at the table in front of one of the bars; seeing Twilight and Sugarcoat, she waved back at them.
“Hello,” Sugarcoat said when she approached them. “I see you got better.”
“I can walk,” Indigo replied. “With crutches, but still. So we decided to celebrate with some hamburgers.”
“You’re eating pizza,” Twilight said, looking at the table. “To think about it, I’d eat some too.”
“Yeah, she puked after the hamburgers,” Bulk replied with a smirk.
Indigo furrowed her eyebrows. “At least pizza agrees with me.” She turned to Twilight. “You’re getting in a bad company, I see.”
“We’re getting married,” Sugarcoat muttered. “Or rather, we’re gonna become roommates, which is pretty much the same thing. We’ll spend time in a confined space until we’re ready to maul each other to death with a frying pan over who sits in the bathroom for too long.”
“Is this how marriage looks on your home planet?” Bulk asked.
“Yes,” Sugarcoat deadpanned. “It’s an ancient custom.”
“Umm, Indigo?” Twilight smiled sheepishly. “Where can I get a cricket bat?”
“In a shop with sports equipment,” Indigo replied. “Though I wonder why not a baseball bat. That’d fit Sugarcoat’s face.”
“Cricket bat has this narrow edge, right?” Twilight smiled. “If I could center the force on a smaller area, maybe it’d compensate for my poor strength…”
“And you’re saying I’m a bad company…” Sugarcoat muttered.
“At this rate you may be a dead company,” Indigo replied, grabbing another slice of pizza. “Hmm, that’s what I needed.”
“Pizza and ability to walk?” Sugarcoat shrugged. “It’s easy to make you happy.”
Indigo smirked. “Let’s put it that way: imagine Twilight breaks your jaw with a cricket bat and you can’t talk. You’d also be happy after getting better.”
“Quite,” Sugarcoat replied. “So what, you were sitting here for the whole day?”
Indigo took a large bite of pizza. “What else can I do? I fucked up my life and it’ll take a while to put it back together, so I may as well become a mallrat.”
Twilight nodded. “Sorry about that.”
“Oh, I got used to it,” Indigo said. “Not sure about becoming a helicopter pilot now…”
“Don’t worry about that,” Bulk replied. “I’m sure you’ll get better.”
“You can walk, that’s the most important.” Twilight smiled. “Everything else will come with time.”
Indigo sighed. “So far, my friends go with time. You and Sugarcoat are leaving and so does Sunny. She wants to get a job.”
“Modelling is not a real job,” Sugarcoat muttered. “And she’s way too short for that anyway. She’s also too intelligent to become an actress and fashion industry is not ready for–”
“Oh, I think she has something else in mind…” Indigo smirked.
Sunny frowned, looking at the screen. She took another sip of coffee and rubbed her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she cracked her fingers and started typing. Her gaze slid from one line of the code to another, catching the errors and searching for patterns.
A smirk adorned her face. She grabbed the headset and put it on, tapping her finger against the microphone.
“Hello,” Sunny said when she was sure the microphone was working. “I’ve heard your company is hiring. I must admit, your computer’s defences were really good. It took me half a night to find a weak point, so forgive me if I sound a bit tired. Also, I figured out how to prevent any other punks with computers from searching through your, umm… personal stuff.” Sh smirked. “I’d send my CV, but I already put it on your desktop. Good night.”
She took off the headset and turned her computer off. Yawning, she dropped on the bed, still wearing a t-shirt, tracksuit bottoms, and glasses filtering blue light.
“Nailed it,” she muttered to herself before falling asleep.
Indigo took another bite of her pizza. Sugarcoat and Twilight had already went off somewhere, but she and Bulk decided to stay at the mall for a little longer. Bulk waved at Drama Letter, who was apparently cleaning the pizzeria now, but she immediately hid in another corner of the place after seeing them.
“Damn, even Twilight is leaving.” Indigo rolled her eyes. “Maybe at least Muffins stays in town. If I can ever ride a bicycle again, it’d be good to have some friend to do that with.”
“She mentioned something about joining the army, but I don’t think they’ll let her in,” Bulk replied.
“Yeah, I’ve seen her idea of tank warfare.” Indigo shuddered. “I’m not sure any battlefield is ready for this.”
“I think there are laws forbidding that, yeah.” Bulk chuckled.
“So, Muffins may stay,” Indigo said. “Not sure about Lemon. She’s looking for something, but I’m not sure if she finds it. Her grades…” She waved her hand as if she was drawing a sinusoid.
“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” Bulk replied. “She seems pretty intelligent…”
Beauty Brass furrowed her eyebrows, trying to recall the events of the day. She spent some time with her boyfriend, but then she decided to go to Lemon to choose some dresses for the prom. This was where the facts ended and speculations started; the next thing she was sure of was that she found herself at 3 AM in Flash Sentry’s kitchen, drinking tea and watching him make pancakes.
“This needs to end,” she muttered.
“Don’t worry, it’s not the first time I end up in the kitchen in the middle of the night, healing people with my tea,” Flash replied.
“That’s some awful tea.” Beauty Brass took a sip. “May I have some more?”
“Sure.” Flash grabbed a kettle. “What needs to end?”
Beauty Brass raised her head. “Excuse me?”
“You said that something needs to end and you most certainly didn’t mean my tea.” Flash shrugged, flipping a pancake.
Beauty Brass rested her hands on the table and rubbed her temples. “Lemon. Seriously, I was never into girls and thought it’d be fun, but then, it’s Lemon. I just can’t dump her like that.”
Flash trembled. “Does she know judo too?”
“No, but since I met her, I learned that her mother died last year, her ex is in the nuthouse, and that Sweet Leaf was her best friend.” She sighed. “At this point, I’m not sure how she’d react. I’d rather not give her the rope, metaphorically speaking.”
“Oh, I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Flash replied. “You can still be friends.”
Beauty Brass shook her head. “Oh, if it was that easy… She’s pretty, umm…”
“Fuckable?” Flash asked.
“Huggable.” Beauty Brass shrugged. “Geez, I sound like I don’t know what I want, huh?”
Flash put a plate in front of her. “To be honest, you do sound like you’d want to eat a pancake and have it too.”
Beauty Brass looked at the plate. “Pancakes at 3 AM, really… Do you have maple leaf syrup?”
“Sure.” Flash looked at the kitchen door, hearing a somewhat slurred chuckle from the living room. “What is your girlfriend doing with my girlfriend?”
“Watching the uncensored re-runs of Stable Relationships, I think,” Beauty Brass replied. “Even more vulgar and gross than what’s on TV before the watershed.”
“Ah, of course,” Flash muttered. “I think I caught a joke about the difference between jelly and jam.”
“Indeed.” Beauty Brass sighed. “Anyway, the whole point is, I don’t want Lemon to be my girlfriend, but at the same time, I don’t know how to tell her about that.”
“Well, I’m not the best person to ask about breaking up.” Flash blushed. “When I broke up with Sunset Shimmer, I spent a few weeks locking my room at night and sleeping with a baseball bat under my pillow.”
Beauty Brass shrugged. “I don’t think this would happen with Lemon. Though then I’d have to stay with her and cheer her up which kinda defeats the purpose of breaking up.”
“Depends what kind of cheering up you mean.” Flash chuckled; the chuckle turned into a nervous squeal when he saw Beauty furrowing her eyebrows. “I mean, you can always be friends, with, umm… benefits. Isn’t it how it goes now?”
“Is it?” Beauty Brass nodded slowly, eating a bit of a pancake. “Well, it would be like this, but there’s all this stuff I learned about her and I’d like to help her–”
“Isn’t that what friends are for?” Flash asked. “Unless you care more about the ‘benefits’ part.”
“Well, the problem is, I just don’t know how to help her, so we go to bed instead.” Beauty Brass sighed. “And sooner or later I’ll have to tell my boyfriend.”
“Umm…” Flash raised his hand.
“If that’s too much information, just assume you’re my gay friend now,” Beauty Brass said.
“I’m not gay.”
“Imagine that you are,” Beauty Brass muttered. “I’m not gay either and look what happened.”
Flash sighed. “Just tell her that you have your limits.” He shrugged. “Or just be honest and tell her that you don’t know how to help her and that it can’t continue like that.”
“Honesty as the best policy?” Beauty Brass nodded. “I may try that.”
“Bring her some pancakes,” Flash said. “Maybe she’ll take that better.”
Beauty Brass grabbed a plate and walked to the living room, which was quite a curious sight. Lemon was half-lying on the couch with an empty bottle of wine. Her hair was in a mess and she was nodding off. The only spot on the couch that wasn’t occupied by her was taken by Muffins, who was staring at the TV screen where some cartoon characters were doing abominable things to each other.
“Umm… do you want pancakes?” Beauty Brass asked.
“Sure, why not,” Muffins replied.
“Ah, so that’s where the wine I used for cooking went,” said Flash, who was hiding behind Beauty Brass.
“Don’t blame me, it was her,” Muffins said, grabbing a pancake from the plate. “I was just playing along. Remember, I only drink shandy... Because I’m a cyclist.”
Beauty Brass’ eyes narrowed. “I don’t see a connection.”
“In Germany, a drink similar to shandy is called Radler, which is ‘cyclist’ in German,” Muffins replied. “It was invented by a dude who didn’t have enough–”
“Whatever.” Beauty Brass rolled her eyes. “We’re not in Germany. Actually, I just wanted to tell Lemon something, but maybe I should wait till she’s able to understand me.”
Lemon raised her head and turned to Beauty Brass, trying to focus her gaze on her. “I’m listening.” She hiccuped. “What do you w-want to tell me?”
“Really, you should be sober for that,” Beauty replied. “So there are no misunderstandings.”
Lemon sighed. “You want to dump me?”
“Umm…” Beauty Brass froze. “No, of course not!”
“Yeah, sure…” Lemon muttered. “You have a boyfriend and I’m just sad and get drunk a lot. Why’d you hang out with someone like me?”
“Chill out, Lemon,” Muffins said. “If it doesn’t work out, we can always hook you up with the president of our Gardening Club. You like girls with green hair, don’t you?”
“Muffins, shut up,” Flash muttered.
“Listen, Lemon, I’m not breaking up with you!” Beauty Brass exclaimed. “Really, I wish we could have this conversation when everyone’s sober, not in the middle of the night!”
“Do we even have a Gardening Club?” Flash asked.
“We can have that conversation anytime,” Lemon muttered. “I’m not like Sunny.”
“We have,” Muffins said. “Roseluck and I were trying to get her laid for the better part of the school year.”
Beauty Brass rolled her eyes. “Well, I can’t! It’s serious, Lemon!”
“Who is she?” Flash asked. “I don’t remember her.”
“I am serious.” Lemon hiccuped again.
“You talked to her,” Muffins said. “At least a few times.”
“Everybody shut up!” Beauty Brass exclaimed. Years of playing sousaphone caused her to develop a voice reaching quite a stentorian volume. Everyone went quiet immediately. She also noticed the lights being turned on in a few neighbouring houses.
“Thank you,” Beauty Brass said. “Mind if I take Lemon home to explain her a few things?”
Flash looked at Muffins who shrugged. “Not at all,” he replied.
“Good.” Beauty Brass grabbed Lemon and lifted her from the couch. “Have fun, guys.”
Muffins smirked, turning to Flash.
The streets were completely empty when Beauty Brass drove with Lemon across the town. In spite of that, Beauty was driving slowly, carefully looking at the pavements, in case someone decided to cross the street right in front of her car.
“My house or your house?” she asked.
“The car,” Lemon replied. “We’ve never–”
“Someone told me it’s not that fun.” Beauty Brass furrowed her eyebrows. “Besides, I was just asking where you want to sleep it off. You know, in case your father has something against you coming home completely soused. Rightfully so, I must say.”
“It’s Friday, he’s playing a gig,” Lemon replied. “Also, I don’t think he minds my life choices.”
“If you puke in my car, your only choice will be which limb you want to have broken,” Beauty Brass muttered. “Also, this needs to end.”
Lemon shuddered. “So, you’re dumping me, after all?”
“I kinda feel like it,” Beauty Brass replied. “I can’t help you if you don’t want to help yourself. Besides, relationships aren’t about one partner having to drag the other through life, right?”
“They aren’t?”
Beauty Brass sighed and rolled her eyes. “For starters, less drinking and more getting yourself together. I can help you with that, but I won’t hold your hand all the time. It’s not just you in the centre of this relationship. Both of us are there.”
“Mhm.” Lemon lowered her head and leaned forward, snoring.
Beauty Brass shook her head and smirked. “You’re gonna be shocked tomorrow, Lemon Zest…”
Only a white-haired old man, who would be a prophet Yet is not a prophet, for he’s much too busy, Repeats while he binds his tomatoes: No other end of the world will there be, No other end of the world will there be. Czesław Miłosz, A Song on the End of the World
Lemon was indeed shocked by Beauty’s new approach, although it was somewhat alleviated by another shock when the realisation that they were going to go to the prom in just two weeks sunk in. Since their first attempt at getting dresses somehow ended up in Flash Sentry’s house, this time they chose a more methodical approach.
“This is gonna be so cool!” Sunny Flare exclaimed, grabbing a few yards of fabric and looking at Lemon. “I can’t wait when we’re at the party together and–”
“You were kinda kicked out of school,” Indigo muttered. She was sitting on the table in Sunny’s room eyeing the fabric without much enthusiasm. “I doubt they’ll let you into the prom.”
“I’ll find a way, don’t worry,” Sunny muttered. “Maybe I’ll get to CHS prom with you. Besides, who doesn’t like proms?”
“I don’t,” Indigo said. “I used to dance like a retarded goat when my both legs worked, so I doubt it’s gonna be better now.”
“You’ll be a lame retarded goat now.” Sugarcoat smirked.
Indigo furrowed her eyebrows. “Shut up, Sugarcoat.”
“I always liked to make dresses for you,” Sunny said to Indigo. “I don’t needmuch fabric for you anyway…”
“I’m only two inches shorter than you!” Indigo exclaimed.
“Which leaves more fabric for Lemon’s girlfriend,” Sunny said, making round gestures as if she tried to assess someone's measures. “How tall is she?”
Lemon shrugged. “About six feet? No idea. Don’t bother, she’s probably has her own dresses. Also, first she’s going to the Crystal Prep prom with me and then to the Canterlot High one with her boyfriend.”
“Aww, and I had such a cute idea…” Sunny put her hands together.
“I’d rather get something I’d be able to run in,” Lemon muttered. “You know, in case she catches me drinking.”
“Then don’t get drunk, simple,” Sunny said. “You always end up under the table and I’m definitely not planning to join you. Not coming back to that shithole…” She shrugged and turned to Sugarcoat. “How about you? Something classical?’
Sugarcoat rolled her eyes. “Whatever you think fits.”
“Not into the prom?” Indigo asked. “Did physics already take your mind over?”
“Nah, I’m just wondering how to bring Sandalwood to our prom without him putting on something ridiculous.” Sugarcoat replied.
“I can always get you something ridiculous for your CHS prom,” Sunny said. “Red, black dots… You’d look like a ladybird.”
Sugarcoat sighed. “Did your crib catch fire when you were a kid?”
“No, why?” Sunny asked.
“Because some of your ideas seem like it did and your father put the fire out with a shovel,” Sugarcoat muttered.
Sunny nodded slowly. “How about something black? Inspired by the uniforms of–”
“Now that’s getting tasteless…”
“What?” Sunny asked. “I meant those guys in ridiculous helmets who blew up Alderaan…”
“That sounds even worse.” Sugarcoat sighed. “Does anyone have any more retarded ideas, or can we assume the meeting is adjourned?”
Indigo raised her hand. “I have one. It goes like, ‘stop being a dick, Sugarcoat’.”
Sugarcoat crossed her arms. “Or what? Are you going to fight me?”
Indigo smirked.
A few minutes later, Sugarcoat was still clutching to her liver. A sneaky jab with a crutch knocked the wind out of her; afterwards she didn’t protest much when Sunny Flare gave her a frilly pink dress with a matching feather boa, but after putting it on, it started to slowly find its way to her consciousness.
“I look like I’m in kindergarten and it’s my sixth birthday,” she muttered. “I only need a tiara now.”
“Oh, please,” Sunny replied. “Don’t you know that nineties are all the rage now?”
“Yes, but when people say that, they usually mean the twentieth century,” Sugarcoat said. “I’m pretty sure the previous owner of this boa died when it got caught by the engine of their steam car or something.”
“I can always put you in something different,” Sunny said, producing a red tartan fabric. “How about a kilt?”
“I can take it.” Indigo chuckled while Sunny tried to see if the tartan fit Lemon and winced at the result. “That, or we put Bulk in a kilt.”
“You don’t happen to have anything blue or purple?” Sugarcoat asked, looking at her pink dress and furrowing her eyebrows. “And not too frilly or else Fleur will behead me, shouting something about Liberté, égalité et fraternité or something.”
“Nah, she’s more of a royalist or whatever.” Sunny smirked. “During the prom, she’ll let us eat cake..." She looked at Lemon. Assuming she becomes the queen.”
“It was actually a brioche and the context was apparently different,” Sugarcoat said. “Assuming she ever said that.”
“Whatever,” Indigo replied. “I’d rather be done with dresses and all this talk about cake and brioches makes me hungry.”
“Oh, we’re far from done.” Sunny walked to Indigo. “We’ll need a loose, ankle length dress for you, unless you want to scare people off with your legs. Why is the left one still thinner?”
Her eyes widened when the tip of the crutch stopped an inch from her face.
“Would you kindly fuck off?” Indigo asked, smiling at Sunny.
“Language, Indigo, there are kids around,” Sugarcoat said. “And you really need to stop waving this thing around.”
“It’d be easier if you didn’t keep talking about my kid,” Indigo muttered. “Besides, I gotta go. I have rehabilitation and stuff.”
“Your kid?” Sugarcoat raised her eyebrows. “I meant Lemon.”
Lemon pouted. “Would you kindly fuck off, Sugarcoat?”
Indigo emerged from the water and shook her head. It was still before noon and there weren’t many people at the pool, letting her swim slowly and carefully. She was taking her time, checking how the joints and muscles in her injured leg and arm worked.
Taking a few deep breaths, Indigo lay on her back in the water, backstroking towards the other end of the pool. She looked at the ceiling; she’d remembered the position of the lamps, as well as the backstroke flags above her so she wouldn’t hit her head against the wall and drown. Swimming took her way longer than it used to before the accident, but she was glad she was still able to do that.
A few minutes later, her hands touched the pool’s wall. She grabbed the lane rope to take a rest.
Suddenly, some big shadow blocked her view. She looked up and smiled, seeing Bulk standing by the edge of the pool wearing his swimming trunks.
“Hello,” he said. “How are you?”
“I have a large draft and I swim like an old, rusty trawler manned by one-armed dwarfs,” Indigo replied. “Besides, Sunny wants to put me in a dress. Twice.”
“The prom, huh?” Bulk nodded and jumped into the water. “Rarity is so excited she’ll soon shoot through the ceiling and start orbiting around the planet.”
“And Sunny will soon join her,” Indigo muttered. “I hope you don’t want to race. I’m not in the top form.”
Bulk stretched his arms. “Nah, not when there’s a baby aboard.”
“Little Indy seems to like water,” Indigo replied. "At least judging by the fact she's not trying to kick my guts out."
Bulk nodded, looking at her, his expression faltering.
“Shame we’ll have to give her up for adoption,” Indigo muttered.
“Indeed,” Bulk replied. “I mean… You want to do that, right?”
“Yes,” Indigo said quickly. “I mean, it’s already settled. One day we’ll just have to go and fill the papers.” She shrugged. “There are a lot of families who can’t have kids, right?”
“Indigo, your liar’s face is showing,” Bulk muttered.
Indigo rolled her eyes. “I may be having second thoughts, okay? It’s our baby, after all. And people fawning over my stomach don’t make it any easier. Seriously, Sunny seems to think that if I keep this baby, she’s gonna be its auntie, even though she’s leaving the town soon.”
Bulk nodded. “You wish it was so, huh?”
“Well, the ‘we all stay together’ part, sure.” Indigo lowered her head slightly, her fingers playing idly with the arm of her one-piece swimsuit. “Not the parts involving a baby, an accident, and my body being all shades of fucked up.” She shrugged. “That reminds me. I have a meeting with Dean Cadance next week. You know, holiday and online courses so I graduate and don’t have to spend another year in school.”
“That’s good to hear,” Bulk said. “And what then? The college?”
“Guess I’ll spend a year recovering.” Indigo ran her hand through her wet hair. “Maybe I’ll get some job. Is your dad hiring?”
“You want to be a lumberjack with your hand?” Bulk chuckled. “Besides, Ruby is not a good colleague.”
“Yeah, and you probably don’t pay much, given that she steals bicycles.” Indigo smirked.
Bulk shrugged. “I guess that’s just a hobby.”
“Next time we’re not getting her out of the river.” Indigo let go off the rope and started swimming. “Unless I train more.”
Bulk followed her. Soon, he managed to overtake her; when she reached the other side of the pool, he was already there, waiting for her.
“Trying to be in the top form at the prom?” Indigo asked. “I have no such problems. Best I’ll be able to do will be throwing my crutches at the dancing people.”
Bulk chuckled. “I don’t think that’s gonna be necessary.”
Indigo smirked. “Oh, I know quite a few people who could use a crutch to the face.”
“I was wondering,” Sandalwood said. “Can one say about a lesbian that she’s pussy-whipped?”
“I can’t see why not,” Sugarcoat replied, looking at the pair of shoes in front of her. As far as she knew, their colour would fit the dress Sunny was preparing for her. However, she was quite unused to the stiletto heels and breaking a leg most definitely wasn’t how she wanted to start a new chapter in her life. “Why are you asking?”
“Oh, Flash told me a few things about Lemon and Beauty Brass.” Sandalwood moved on to another shelf. “How do you find this tie?”
Sugarcoat looked at the grey tie with small ninjas, pirates, zombies, and robots. “Much better than the reindeer-shaped one.”
Sandalwood chuckled. “Gonna take that one, then.”
“I’m only allowing that because I know you’d choose some more offensive tie if I didn’t,” Sugarcoat muttered.
“You’re allowing, huh?” Sandalwood shook his head with a playful smirk. “I’m not as pussy-whipped as Lemon.”
“As if.” Sugarcoat spun the stiletto heel in her hand as if it was a revolver. “A short dry spell should teach you to behave.”
“Sure,” Sandalwood replied. “Let’s see who’d last longer. Besides, we could use some training if we’re to live with Twilight Sparkle. Unless she likes to–” He moved aside when Sugarcoat threw the shoe at him. It flew past him and hit the door of one of the fitting rooms behind him.
The door opened. Sugarcoat quickly hid behind the shelf, seeing Fleur Dis Lee emerging from it, looking quite striking in a pale dress – almost like liberty leading the people towards the barricades. She looked at the shoe, then at Sandalwood, furrowing her eyebrows.
“Connard,” she muttered.
“Va te faire enculer, conasse dégénéré, Sandalwood replied; while his accent was horrible, it was effective enough for Fleur to huff and close the fitting room’s door.
Sugarcoat emerged from behind the shelf. “What did you even tell her?”
Sandalwood shrugged. “One dude in Paris said that to his boyfriend and he walked away.”
“You were in Paris?” Sugarcoat asked.
“Dad was making a movie there and I somehow ended up in a bar full of gay Frenchmen.” Sandalwood picked up Sugarcoat’s shoe and handed it to her. “Are you buying these?”
“Yes,” Sugarcoat replied. “Let’s go before we meet Fleur again. Or someone else we know.”
“Too late,” Sandalwood muttered, pointing at the door of the store. “Seems that everyone came here to buy shoes.”
Beauty Brass’ voice could be heard even from the place where Sugarcoat and Sandalwood were standing. “You know how hard it is to find high heels in my size? Some runt in the store told me to ask a drag queen…”
“Why do you even need high heels?” Lemon asked. While Beauty Brass wasn’t holding her in an embrace, they were walking much closer to each other than other shoppers; as Sugarcoat noticed, closer than she was to Sandalwood, though this didn’t surprise her all that much.
“Yeah, I know I’m tall enough without them.” Beauty Brass chuckled. “Though on the other hand, how many people in Crystal Prep would be outraged if I donned a tuxedo?”
“No one,” Sugarcoat replied, appearing in front of them before Lemon had a chance to reply. “One of our previous principals always carried two flintlocks with silver bullets in his smoking jacket in case of a vampire attack, so you wearing a tuxedo will be regarded as only a bit eccentric.”
“And what happened to him?” Beauty Brass asked.
“Oh, he accidentally shot himself with a flintlock.” Sugarcoat shrugged. “But at least no vampire attacked him.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Beauty Brass turned to Lemon. “If you need something, you’d better hurry. The hairdresser won’t wait for us.”
“I think we can go,” Lemon replied. “See you at the prom, Sugarcoat.”
“Bye,” Sugarcoat muttered.
Sandalwood raised his hand. “To think about it, we need to go to the hairdresser too.”
Sugarcoat’s eyes narrowed when she looked at his dreadlocks. “A guy with a lawnmower would be cheaper…”
Despite Sugarcoat’s efforts, Sandalwood’s hair survived until the Crystal Prep’s prom mostly intact. Same with Indigo’s hair – if only because the hairstylist didn’t have much to work with.
Sunny, on the other hand, did quite a job working on Indigo’s dress. It was light blue and while it was rather long and wide to hide her legs and make the fact that she was pregnant less obvious, but no sleeves and a cleavage slightly bigger than in case of Sunny’s other designs made quite a few jaws drop as she walked across the car park with Bulk.
“Man, I’m kinda disappointed,” Sandalwood said when they met him and Sugarcoat in front of the school. “You didn’t put that pink suit on.”
“You have a pink suit?” Indigo chuckled, poking Bulk. “You’ve never showed it to me!”
“It’s legendary.” Sandalwood smirked. “You could’ve taken it with you.” He looked around. “It’d loosen up the atmosphere a bit.”
Bulk leaned to him. “I totally didn’t hide it in the trunk of my car. Gonna change clothes when the party gets wilder.”
Sugarcoat shuddered. “Anybody wants to bet we’re getting kicked out of this party before it ends?”
“That’d be like, a part of the prom bingo,” Sandalwood said, producing a handful of bingo cards and giving them to everyone. “Someone getting drunk, someone getting kicked out, someone making weird declarations, a fight breaking out, all that stuff.”
“Speaking of people getting drunk, where’s Lemon?” Indigo asked, looking at her card.
Suddenly, they heard roaring of an engine; everyone raised their heads looking for the source of the noise. Some of them quickly ran out of the way as a black, vintage car drove towards the school entrance and spun in front of it. Flames shot out of the exhaust pipes; the car’s bonnet was gone, making every detail of the large engine visible.
When the car stopped, Indigo realised that only some of the noise was coming from the engine. The rear part of the car was fitted with speakers and a tangled mass of wires and vacuum tubes surrounding the gramophone installed in the middle of the backseat. The whole contraption seemed to be designed with only one purpose in mind: filling the whole neighbourhood with a loud rockabilly music.
“What the hell?” Sugarcoat muttered, seeing Lemon and Beauty Brass getting out of the car. Just as she’d announced, Beauty Brass arrived in a tuxedo. Lemon, on the other hand, wore a long, dark green dress. Her normally untamed hair was neatly groomed and curled.
“Where did you get that car?” Indigo asked.
“Vinyl’s car only has two seats, so she borrowed this one from her grandpa,” Lemon replied.
“Ah, that explains many things.” Indigo waved at Vinyl who opened the window of the car and smiled at them. “So, she’s your driver today?”
Lemon nodded. “Not only that. She’s friends with Neon Lights and he invited her.”
“I see.” Indigo looked at Neon Lights who approached Vinyl’s car. As soon as he touched it, Vinyl slapped him. “Hmm, too bad Flash and Muffins aren’t from Crystal Prep. Though I guess we’ll meet in CHS.”
“I’m pretty sure they’re not regretting,” Bulk said.
The two bicycles were lying on the grassy clearing at the top of the hill overlooking the town. It was pretty far away from any civilisation which was pretty convenient given what was going on the blanket nearby.
“Is it really that big?”
“Nah, it only seems so because it’s close. I know some bigger ones.”
“For example?”
“KW Sagittarii,” Flash replied. “It’s over a thousand times bigger than the Sun, but it doesn’t look that impressive because it’s two thousand four hundred parsecs away.”
Muffins nodded. “It could take Han Solo a while to get there…”
“He’d still be faster than us,” Flash said. “That’s over six thousand light years. What we see now is how it looked when our ancestors were learning to ride horses.”
“There goes my vacation plan.” Muffins chuckled.
“It’s big, red, and cold,” Flash replied. “Probably not a good place for a vacation.”
Muffins sat closer to him, wrapping her arm around him. “Well, this clearing is kinda cold too…”
“We can always go back to the town.” Flash shrugged. “We could eat burritos and–”
Muffins shook her head and laughed, embracing him. “I never said I didn’t like this place…”
The party was slowly getting into full swing. Neon Lights got behind his turntables—with Vinyl still trying to mess with him—and the music filled the school’s sports hall. A few pairs, including Lemon and Beauty Brass, started to dance, while the others waited, talking or watching the dancers.
“Do you think the teachers had seen me?” Sunny Flare asked. She’d appeared a few minutes late, wearing platform shoes making her at least three inches taller and sunglasses covering a half of her face.
“I’m pretty sure they won’t kick you out just because you’re not a student anymore,” Indigo replied. “Besides, you can always say you got invited by someone who’s, I don’t know, tied and locked in the bathroom stall now, whatever.”
“Dunno. Better not to be recognised.” Sunny threw a few nervous looks around.
“Hi, Sunny!” Zephyr exclaimed. She walked to Indigo and her group of friends, accompanied by Frosty Orange and Ginger Owlseye.
Sunny groaned. “Why does it keep happening?”
“You suck at disguises,” Sugarcoat muttered.
Frosty Orange looked at Indigo and Bulk. “Do you know how cute you two look together?”
Bulk and Indigo looked at each other, shrugging. After a brief moment of silence, interrupted only by loud music, Indigo finally spoke. “Did you already drink something illegal, Frosty?”
“No, of course not,” Frosty replied. “Anyway, since we’re kinda not the students of this school anymore, I need to tell you something.”
“We’re gonna hear something retarded, don’t we?” Sandalwood asked, attempting a whisper which nevertheless was heard by everyone.
“Oh, please.” Frosty rolled her eyes. “I graduated and I can say that: I’m in love with coach Sombra.”
“Aren’t we all?” Sugarcoat muttered. “Well, most of us grew out of it, although Indigo, as you can see, still likes big muscular guys. Oh, and Lemon is a gold star lesbian, so I don’t think she was ever interested in–”
“No, I mean… We’re actually in love, like… We’re together.” Frosty smiled sheepishly.
“Oh!” Zephyr exclaimed in a very unconvincing way before fainting, conveniently landing in Ginger Owlseye’s hands.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Ginger hissed.
“Such a declaration wouldn’t count without someone fainting dramatically,” Zephyr replied, standing up and fixing her hair.
“Next time I’m not catching you.”
Sandalwood chuckled. “I’m changing my mind about Crystal Prep students. You are even funnier than Snips and Snails trying to solve math problems…”
“So, no one gives a damn?” Frosty asked.
“No,” Indigo replied. “Do whatever you want.”
Sunny chuckled. “Although it’s kinda funny you were always a substitute in the team, despite, you know–”
“Don’t finish that sentence or else Sandalwood will win the prom bingo,” Sugarcoat said, watching as Frosty’s face turned red. “Seriously, ‘fight breaking out’ right after ‘someone making a weird declaration’? That’s unfair.”
Frosty furrowed her eyebrows. “You find that weird?”
“Not really,” Sugarcoat replied. “A buff dude. Beard. Position of authority. I can totally see this happening. Do you often feel lost and unnecessary?”
Indigo looked at her bingo card and turned to Sandalwood. “I have ‘Sugarcoat gets murdered for accidentally offending someone’ here. Does that count?”
“Not until she actually gets murdered.”
However, before Frosty could prove Sugarcoat that she was, in fact most definitely not lost and unnecessary, Lemon and Beauty Brass barged in; Lemon wrapped her arms around Frosty while Beauty hugged Bulk and Sugarcoat.
“Why aren’t you dancing?” Beauty shouted.
“We were having a chat,” Sugarcoat muttered, trying to free herself from her grasp.
“A chat? You go to a pub to chat,” Beauty said. “Or to the public toilet when the girl in the nearby stall is as bored as you.”
“This puts all the wrong images in my head,” Indigo muttered. “Also, I can’t dance and the surgeons described my leg as a three-dimensional jigsaw puzzle that they had to put together. I’m literally screwed. Or at least my leg is, but I’m getting it all removed once it’s not necessary.”
“Do you really have to?” Bulk asked. “I mean, the doctor said it can stay there if it doesn’t hurt.”
“It’s kinda freaky when I touch my left ankle and feel the head of a screw,” Indigo muttered.
“Cool!” Beauty Brass exclaimed. “Can I see?”
“Can you fuck off?” Indigo muttered.
Bulk looked at his bingo card and smiled. “I have ‘Indigo tells someone to fuck off’.”
“Do you also have something about Sandalwood getting his ass kicked?” Indigo asked.
Sandalwood smiled sheepishly and looked around until his gaze landed on Sugarcoat. “You know? I think a dance is a good idea.”
Sugarcoat took a peek at Frosty Orange. “Definitely.”
“That’s the spirit!” Beauty Brass exclaimed. She and Lemon followed Sugarcoat and Sandalwood to the dancefloor. Sunny Flare got asked to dance by Trenderhoof, leaving Indigo and Bulk with Frosty Orange, Zephyr, and Ginger Owlseye.
“I got no screws when that brute broke my leg during the match,” Zephyr said to Indigo. “I freaked out enough without them.”
“You puked in the emergency room,” Ginger Owlseye muttered. Before Zephyr could say something to counter that claim, Ginger walked away to dance with Royal Pin.
“Is this everything people remember about me playing in that match?” Zephyr rolled her eyes.
“Not quite,” Frosty muttered. “You played like shit, hit a kid with a ball and then the kid’s sister broke your leg. Oh, and you puked in the emergency room.”
Bulk leaned to Indigo. “You know, I think you could dance slowly. And we wouldn’t have to stay here with them.”
“Surely,” Indigo replied. She grabbed Bulk’s hand and walked with him to the dancefloor. Her leg didn’t quite cooperate with the rest of her body, but Bulk held her firmly, guiding her around the dancing pairs. He spun in place with her, ending up somewhere near Lemon and Beauty Brass.
The music went faster. Both pairs split and swapped, Indigo ending up in Lemon’s arms while Bulk started to dance with Beauty Brass, causing several students to run out of their way.
“If I break something it’ll be your fault,” Indigo muttered, resisting Lemon’s attempts to lift her. “Chill out, it’s not Dirty Dancing…”
“Okay,” Lemon replied. She made a pirouet and landed in Bulk’s arms, leaving Indigo with Beauty Brass.
“Not quite what I had in mind…” Indigo sighed. “Hope you’re not jumping too much because I’m not into getting hit with boobs in the face…”
Beauty Brass chuckled. “I’ll be gentle.” She lifted Indigo off the ground and turned around with her.
Indigo felt her stomach twist. “Put me down if you don’t want me to puke all over your tuxedo…”
“Sure thing!” Beauty Brass exclaimed, putting Indigo on the ground at the edge of the dancefloor and going back to dance with Lemon. Indigo sighed, looking around to find her crutches. With a groan, she realised she’d left them on the other side of the sports hall.
Bulk joined her, panting. “You okay?”
“I think so,” Indigo replied. “But I think it’s enough of dancing for one day.”
“Yeah.” Bulk looked at the dancefloor. “Though the party only just started.”
As if to confirm that, Sandalwood got pushed out of the crowd, tripping and falling on the ground right below their feet. He stood up and wiped some blood from his nose, staring at his hand in disbelief.
“You’d never believe what happened to me,” he said.
“Sugarcoat got sick of you?” Indigo asked.
“Not quite,” Sandalwood replied. “I was trying to dance with some teeny-tiny little ginger girl with glasses.” He waved his hand, showing just how short the girl in question was. “Then suddenly some nerd appeared out of nowhere and punched me.”
“Must’ve been Alizarin Bubblegum.” Indigo chuckled. “Celery Stalk doesn’t understand the concept of ‘the guy you don’t have to worry about’.” She produced her bingo card. “Oh, and I happen to have ‘revenge of the nerds’ right here.”
“It’s open to interpretation.” Sandalwood rubbed his face. Bulk and Indigo left him at the edge of the dancefloor and went to retrieve Indigo’s crutches.
The music was booming loudly, drowning all the conversations. Most of the students were dancing. Indigo noticed Fleur with her boyfriend; she wasn’t sure what his name was, but she heard he was British. His sharp suit and perfect hairstyle clearly showed that they were hoping for the title of the prom queen and king.
The contenders were few and far between. Zephyr looked outstanding in her black dress, but Indigo felt she just wasn’t popular enough. Cold Forecast and Ginger Owlseye hardly cared. Orange Sherbette and Upper Crust definitely voted for Fleur.
Indigo looked around, spotting Sunny Flare sitting at the table. She grabbed her crutches and walked to her, waiting for the current song to end.
“Not dancing anymore?” Indigo asked.
“Enjoying the shit happening,” Sunny replied. “Watch out, someone spiked the punch. I nearly puked when I found out.”
“How long–”
“I stopped counting,” Sunny replied. “Also, I want to be sober when they reveal the prom queen.”
“It’s gonna be Fleur.” Indigo shrugged. “Who else could that be?”
Sunny looked at the dancefloor and smiled.
“Did you rig the election?” Bulk asked.
Indigo raised her head and turned to Sunny. “You rigged it!”
“Chill out, how’d I do that?” Sunny shook her head. “I talked with a few people… Well, with Lemon, mostly. Then Lemon talked with a few more people…”
Indigo groaned. “If they all voted me, as a prom queen I’ll let you choose which limb you want to have cut off.”
“Why so serious?” Sunny shook her head. “It probably failed anyway, but if everything went well, tonight you may see Fleur shitting herself…”
“I hope it’s a metaphor,” Bulk said, shuddering.
“It is,” Sunny replied. “Some shit may go down, though. Assuming it didn’t already. I just overheard coach Sombra and Frosty Orange. He mentioned something about him having to still work there and not wanting, umm… a reputation. I think Frosty is now crying in the bathroom stall.”
“Crazy.” Indigo shrugged. “Hope you didn’t choose her or heads will roll…”
It took a while before the prom queen was announced. Meanwhile, Indigo managed to dance to a few slower tunes. Frosty Orange came back from the bathroom only to end up somewhere near the punch. Soon, she had to be escorted out; the only good side of it was that it allowed Indigo to win the prom bingo, much to Sandalwood’s displeasure.
Finally, the time has come. Neon Lights freed himself from Vinyl’s grasp, grabbed the microphone and walked to the middle of the hall.
“Dude is that thing on?” he muttered, looking at the microphone. “Oh, it is. So, like, we gathered here to announce, like, the prom queen and king, right? I bet you’re all dying to know who this may be…”
“Not really,” Cold Forecast muttered.
“Hurry up, it’s not Oscars or other wankfest,” Sunny whispered.
“Actually, it kinda is,” Sugarcoat said. “I’m pretty sure this is how ancient tribes used to choose the alpha female.”
Neon Lights cleared his throat and fixed his sunglasses. “Where’s that envelope?” He looked around. Vinyl shook her head, smirked at the audience and gave him the envelope. Neon opened it and looked at the card inside.
“The Prom Queen is…” He made a brief pause, chuckling faintly. “... Alizarin Bubblegum!”
The crowd let out a collective “ooh”. Zephyr fainted; it’d be dramatic, but this time Ginger Owlseye didn’t catch her, letting her drop on the floor unceremoniously. Fleur gave Neon Lights a glare – if the looks could kill, his body would never be found. Cold Forecast pushed Alizarin Bubblegum towards Neon Lights; her face was now as red as her hair.
“What would you want to say?” Neon Lights asked.
Alizarin’s eyes widened. “This isn’t happening, right?” she muttered. “You’re fucking with me, don’t you?” Realising what she’d just said, she covered her mouth.
Sugarcoat chuckled. “Don’t worry. That’s still the best prom queen speech I’ve ever heard…”
“Isn’t it the only one you’ve heard?” Sunny asked.
“I watched some on the internet,” Sugarcoat replied. “They all sucked. Alizarin's was short and to the point.”
Alizarin took a deep breath. “Good. Can I go and have a heart attack already?”
“Go on,” Neon Lights said.
“Thanks.” Alizarin smiled nervously and walked away, accidentally bumping into Fleur. Their gazes met; everyone around held their breath.
“Well, this is gonna suck…” Indigo muttered.
The first rays of sunlight found their way through the curtains. Indigo opened her eyes and looked around, realising that she was in Bulk’s bed, using his arm as a pillow. She smiled, closing her eyes and trying to fall asleep again.
“That was fun, huh?” Bulk muttered.
“Mhm,” Indigo replied. “The pink suit really saved the party.”
“Well, the atmosphere kinda dropped after the prom queen was announced,” Bulk said, sitting on the bed and scratching his head. “Who’d think that girl gets nauseous when she’s stressed enough?”
“Fleur now knows,” Indigo replied, stretching her arms. “Shame about her dress. At least Celery Stalk and Beauty Brass took care of Alizarin. Though I think Lemon’s gonna be jealous, with all those hugs.”
“A prom without drama is not a prom,” Bulk said. “Speaking of, remember that we have another prom today, in my school. With Sandalwood, Flash, and Muffins, I wonder what it’ll bring.”
“Knowing Canterlot High, a demon attack.” Indigo smirked. “Maybe it’ll be fish people this time. Or bimbo zombies.”
“Hope Sunset Shimmer can deal with that.” Bulk stood up and opened the curtains, letting more light inside. “Also, did I tell you that I finished the boat?”
“Nice.” Indigo smiled, looking outside the window. “So, it’s, like, completely done? When can we go on a cruise?”
“Well, it could use some better paintjob, but we could go even now,” Bulk replied.
Indigo nodded. “We still have quite a few hours to the prom, right?”
“Yeah…” Bulk turned to Indigo, raising his eyebrows. “Wait, you’re not thinking about going to the lake right now?”
“Why not?” Indigo shrugged. “We can take your boat for a brief spin and we still can go back to the town in time.”
Bulk scratched his head. “Maybe… If we hurry.” He looked at Indigo. “I’m not sure if I can sail it all by myself. No offence, but you’re–”
“– pregnant?” Indigo asked. “Lame? I won’t have to take long walks in your boat, will I?”
“No,” Bulk replied.
“Then I see no problem.” Indigo got up, grabbing her crutches. “Come on!”
“Oh, come on…” Flash slipped off his bicycle and yawned. “Where are we?”
Muffins looked at the map. “I think it was upside down for the last half of an hour,” she replied. “What does the GPS say?”
Flash produced his phone. “It says we’re in northern China.”
“I knew we shouldn’t have taken that left turn near the ruins of Dunwich,” Muffins replied, looking around the decrepit heathland. “Damn. I bet if we try to to hitch a ride here, the driver will turn out to be a vampire.”
“As long as I can go to sleep, this doesn’t worry me at all.” Flash shrugged. “I can’t even call anyone from here!”
“Vampires are coming,” Muffins said.
Flash raised his head, waking up from the stupor. “Where?”
“Over there.” Muffins pointed at the pick-up truck driving towards them.
Flash looked at it, noticing that the car was pulling a boat trailer with a sailboat. “Hmm, this one could use some better paintjob. And they say vampires have a good taste.”
The truck stopped near them and the window opened, revealing Indigo in the passenger’s seat. “I’d ask what you’re doing here, but it seems obvious,” she said. “Did you sleep in the forest?”
“We didn’t sleep at all,” Muffins replied. “Could you drive us home?”
“Later, sure,” Indigo said, pointing at the boat with her thumb. “By now, we’re planning to test it. Do you want to join us?”
Flash sighed. “Not re–”
“Sure!” Muffins exclaimed, putting her bicycle in the back of the pick-up. “This is gonna be fun!”
“Where do you get so much energy?” Bulk asked, looking at her.
“Oh, sandwiches!” Muffins exclaimed, rummaging through the bags in the back of the car.
“Nevermind,” Bulk muttered.
Flash shook his head. “Typical,” he said. “If I got stranded on a desert island, someone would probably give me a bicycle. Not even a paddle boat, just a regular bicycle.”
“Or a rotor kite, knowing your luck,” Indigo said. “Get into the car, we don’t have all day.”
“I already pulled an all-nighter looking for the way in the forest,” Flash muttered. “Why’d a day make any difference?”
“The prom, remember?” Muffins slurred, chewing a sandwich. “Sailing may be the last occasion to do something stupid together.”
“Of course.” Flash shook his head before putting his bike in the back of the car. “Let’s do this, then.”
He got into the car. Bulk started to drive down the road, towards the lake. The road was quite long, but there was no need to hurry. There was still a much longer road in front of them; the one full of obstacles, often hard and unforgiving. The road they didn’t want to take, but on the other hand they were excited to start a new chapter in their lives. The one they’d prefer to take slowly, but which would often lead them at an uncontrollable speed, way beyond their understanding.
