Sometimes, the only thing that changes about something is who is viewing it.
Perception is a fascinating thing. Sometimes, how someone views themselves and how others view someone don't coincide. In fact, it can be absolutely baffling how different the two are.
The girl who seems to have everything together? She might be a wreck beneath the surface.
The girl who seems so inattentive? Perhaps she genuinely doesn't see the attempts to reach her.
The girl who seems so moody? Maybe there's more to it than what people see.
But of course, that's the thing about perception. Sometimes, it just doesn't line up. And few know that better than the girls at Crystal Prep Academy.
(This is a collection of little vignettes I'll be publishing, effectively going into my headcanons for the Shadowbolts. I hope you enjoy it.)
That was how her fellow students viewed her. A girl without a care in the world, other than what the next shuffled song in her extensive playlist would be.
And Lemon Zest really had no one to blame but herself.
Years of constant rocking out was the main culprit. Every free moment was dedicated to music, every break an opportunity to get another song in. Most people at Crystal Prep had never seen her without her trusty headphones, for it was a cold day in Tartarus when she’d leave home without them.
Said headphones had also been a source of trouble many times over. Like the time Lemon had gotten both her and her sister Lime Candy a week of detention for trying to share a song. Or the time she’d knocked over the lacrosse team’s supplies while jamming out, and had to clean it up, missing her bus home.
Or today, for example…
“The next time you’re caught wearing those headphones in class,” the instructor warned, “I’ll be bringing it up with Principal Cinch. As for now, you’ll need to have your parents come pick them up after school, along with your phone. Understood, Miss Zest?”
Lemon nodded, walking out of the classroom without the usual spring in her step. Already, she was missing her beats. Had it just been a lack of music, then she could accept that - there were times throughout life where she couldn’t have a song playing.
But the worst part was what came with it.
“Is that Lemon Zest?” one boy whispered. “I’ve never seen her without her headphones on.”
“She got ‘em confiscated by Professor High Marks,” another answered. “Wonder how she’ll get along without her fix.”
“Well at least we won’t have to worry about her knocking someone over for the rest of the day.”
Taking in a long, slow breath, Lemon quickened her pace just slightly. Thankfully, the library was somewhere she could go without people constantly judging her. But getting there was half the battle, as she had to make her way across school, grab her lunch from her locker, then travel back to the library, and do so as quickly as she could.
And the whispers. Oh, the whispers…
They were everywhere. Little murmurs, snippets of arguments, discussions of school projects, and they always seemed to reach her ears. Of course, she didn’t mean to overhear, but sometimes she didn’t have a choice in the matter. Especially with her headphones gone, it was all making its way to her, whether she liked it or not.
It took five minutes for Lemon Zest to finish the first part of her trip, but it was a long five minutes…
Rounding a corner to reach her locker, Lemon quickly put in the combination, but fumbled a bit upon hearing a chuckle behind her.
“Guess she got caught,” a girl whispered.
“‘Bout time too,” a boy answered. “Maybe she’ll finally start paying attention to things.”
Zest had to resist the urge to grit her teeth, as she grabbed her lunch out of the locker and walked off. Though before she left, the headphone-less girl made sure to slam her locker closed, making those two jump at the sudden sound.
But of course, a twinge of regret soon followed.
‘It’s your own fault,’ she reminded herself. ‘You always have to just listen in on everyone else…’
Once again, her pace quickened. This was a conversation that she never liked having with herself.
Truth of the matter was, she knew how people viewed her. To everyone outside of the two or three people she considered her actual friends, she was Lemon Zest, the oblivious one.
Lemon Zest the rocker girl, who would always bump into someone because she was too busy jamming out.
Lemon Zest, who would earn the teacher’s ire for having her headphones on during a lesson.
Lemon Zest, who you could insult to her face, and she wouldn’t hear a word of it because of how loud her music is.
And sometimes, some days, when it was all too much… she wished all of that was true.
But it wasn’t true. Lemon Zest could hear it all.
And she’d always hated that. Constantly overhearing conversations that had nothing to do with her, her overactive imagination making her curious what they were truly saying. The incessant catching of insignificant little noises, her ears almost precision designed for hearing the smallest changes and fixating on them. The overwhelming amount of sound any time she was in a crowd, making her dread assemblies and big parties any time they came up.
And of course, the fact that she had started a perception of herself as an oblivious girl because she found she could use music as her escape.
Lemon Zest had always loved music, and especially Rock and Metal. From classics like Def Leppard and Aerosmith, to Ashes Remain and Sabaton, to the likes of Sonata Arctica and Stratovarius, to even the head thrashing symphonic works of Apocalyptica, she just could not get enough. But as she got older, something about it changed. What had once been just a passion, had also become a way for her to suppress that little part about herself she despised.
One Christmas, she asked for the absolute highest quality headphones money could buy, and her dad delivered. Those babies had served her well for nearly five years now, and she was grateful for that. She used them every day, blasting her favorite songs in order to drown out everything else.
But it only did so much, and she couldn’t always have them on - though not for a lack of trying on Lemon’s part.
Sometimes, she really did wonder if it had become an addiction, but that was a reality that she was not ready to face. Though with how everyone talked about her, and with her grades starting to slip, maybe it was time.
But who could she even talk to about it? It wasn’t as if a listening ear would just pop up out of thin air.
“Oof!”
Before she knew it, Lemon Zest fell to the ground, landing right on top of someone. Wincing in sheer embarrassment, she got up as quickly as she could.
“Sorry, sorry… I didn’t see you there.”
“Heh, funny. That’s usually my line.”
At that, Lemon’s eyes shot open. Sure enough, standing before her was her double in all but hairstyle, wearing a pixie cut as well as the same version of their school uniform that Sour Sweet usually rocked.
She had run right into her twin sister, Lime Candy.
“Hey sis,” greeted Lime happily, running a hand through her own shorter green hair. “So, how’s your day been so far?”
“Not that great,” Lemon admitted. “I uh… got my headphones taken away.”
Lime Candy winced. “Professor High Marks?”
“How’d you know?”
“He took my phone away when it fumbled out of my hands. I tried to catch it, but you can guess how that played out.”
Much to their surprise, this actually got a chuckle out of the two. They could both remember a time when Lime would never have joked about such a thing, so it was nice to get a reminder of how far she had progressed. And of course, anything that could get her sister smiling was a win, as far as Lemon was concerned.
“Well, no big deal, right?” Lime continued. “We’ll just have mom or dad pick them up, and you’ll have your beats back in no time.”
“Yeah…”
“Something wrong, sis?”
“Nah, it’s all good.”
“Liar.”
Lemon Zest winced. Far be it from Lime Candy to not see through that one. And knowing her sister, the subject would not be dropped any time soon.
So, with a sigh and a shake of her head, the rocker girl asked a question.
“Lime, do you think I’m… oblivious?”
“Wh-wha…? No! Never! Did someone call you that!? I swear to God I’ll—”
That brought a smile to her face, however small it might have been. It was rare for Lime to be so indignant about something. Of course, Lemon Zest knew it was a stupid question, but some part of her felt the need to hear someone else say it.
“Sorry, weird question…” Lemon told her. “Just forget I said anything.”
“Yeah… I’m not doing that,” Lime insisted. “Sis, are people really calling you that?”
“When they think I can’t hear them, yeah...”
To that, Lime Candy crossed her arms. “Those jerks! Don’t listen to them, Lemon. You’re one of the most perceptive girls I know. Anyone who’d say otherwise is just dumb!”
“I… appreciate that,” Lemon said, leaning against a nearby locker. “But you’re my sister. It’s kinda, like, your job to have my back.”
“Indi feels the same, and you know it.”
She did know that, and admittedly, that was a small comfort. Two people had Zest’s back. But what about the others she would interact with - the ones who were kind of her friends? Did Sour Sweet think that way about her? Did Sugarcoat? Sunny Flare?
Lemon Zest really couldn’t bear the thought.
“Hey, c’mon,” Lime Candy said softly. “You don’t have to worry about what those guys say. Forget about them.”
Lemon rolled her eyes. ‘Easier said than done…’
“Hey, I know! How about we step off campus for a bit and go get some smoothies? I just found a great place on 11th that’s got the best smoothies.”
“Will we be back in time, though?” asked Lemon Zest. “11th is a pretty long walk from here.”
“Oh totally,” answered Lime. “And even if we’re not… are you really gonna complain about missing part of Ms. Fine Line’s class?”
“... Point taken, I’m in.”
And so, with her lunch bag in hand and sister in tow, Lemon Zest walked out of Crystal Prep. A smoothie did sound way too good to pass up right now, and it meant spending some time with her sister.
But still, as they made their way down to the little shop on 11th, the thoughts lingered. Try as she might, there was no avoiding them.
Everyone thought she was oblivious.
Sometimes she wished she was. Maybe then, it wouldn’t sting so much.
But that wasn’t the case, and she hated that. So what was a girl to do?
Looking over to Lime Candy, she expressed an idea:
“Sis, how do you think everyone would react if I just left my headphones home this Monday?”
Those were the oh-so creative insults put forth by Sunny Flare’s peers toward her. And they were not the easiest things to dispute sometimes.
She knew she had it well off. Not only was her mother Principal Cinch of Crystal Prep Academy, but she came from a wealthy family in general, and had been getting the best for her education since she was a little girl.
Sunny Flare knew this. But that didn’t mean she had to like it.
It was about lunchtime at Crystal Prep. The school offered a decent spread for lunch, but students were also permitted to leave campus for food, provided they were back before 5th Period started. As far as she knew, Sunny Flare herself was one of the only ones that ever did, and even then, only sparingly.
It was just nice to get away sometimes.
Particularly after her 4th period—and especially being partnered with Suri Polomare—Sunny was eager to get away.
Everyone thought she and Suri would have been thick as thieves. In fact, she still got baffling comments whenever she mentioned not liking her in passing. Was it really so crazy to others for Sunny Flare to not get along with someone so pompous?
‘Suppose it makes sense, given my “reputation”...’
Over the past few years, she had grown to despise that word.
At first, it had been no big deal, but once Sunny had finally become a Crystal Prep student, it was suddenly a different story. Her mother, Principal Cinch, had hammered it into the young girl’s head how important it was to be on top, to have a strong reputation. So, like any daughter intent on pleasing her mother, Sunny put everything she had into being the best student she could.
The problem?
It wasn’t enough.
Sunny Flare, as of right now, was ranked 4th academically out of the entire school. Quite the achievement, if she did say so herself. Her father had expressed great pride in her for this, but mother’s interpretation had been a bit different.
“Only 4th? Seems as though you have been slacking, Sunny.”
The brief memory frustrated the poor girl immensely. Slacking? Her? As if she could get away with such a thing under Principal Cinch’s roof. But apparently, somehow she had managed it in the eyes of her mother. That had to be the only explanation…
Except it wasn’t. Sunny Flare was 4th because there were three students who were quite simply better than Sunny’s own best. Maybe it was possible that Sugarcoat could be surpassed. But as for Indigo Zap and Twilight Sparkle? Absolutely out of the question. She had seen firsthand how smart Zap was, the bluenette breezing through a good chunk of her homework before the bus ride home had even reached their neighborhood. And Indigo was still solidly behind Twilight; that girl was on another level.
Truth be told, Sunny was content with 4th. Her mother might have wanted better from her, but right now, she couldn’t have cared less.
All she wanted at the moment was to leave this campus and get some food.
Thankfully, she had practiced the route enough to not be seen.
‘Gods above, I really act as though I’m about to go commit a crime,’ she mused. ‘Seems I need this more than I thought I did.’
It was a 10-minute walk, eating up one-sixth of Sunny’s time. Thankfully though, she had recently found out that cutting through the nearby park shaved off a minute, so that was a small victory. The path had been optimized by taking it once a week since their Junior year had started, and now, her destination was easy to reach.
Within her usual timeframe, she stood outside of a small, but very well-kept diner. It was like something out of the 1950s, and from experience, she knew the food to be incredible.
Thinking about food caused Sunny’s stomach to growl. Listening to the beast, she stepped in to find it surprisingly empty. Usually, the place was moderately full due to the lunch rush, but it was a ghost town today.
Even so, behind the grill, like most days, was the Diner’s owner, Humble Roots.
“Ey, Sunny,” he greeted casually, scratching his stubble away from the griddle. “Good ta see ya, kid.”
“Likewise, Humble,” Sunny answered, taking a seat at the counter. “How are you today?”
“Well, I shut down the shop for the day to do some deep cleanin’, ya see. Only reason I’m at the grill is ‘cuz I got a special order in.”
“Think you would be willing to do another?”
Humble smiled. “Sure thing, kiddo. Ya want your usual?”
Sunny’s eyes widened. “I have a ‘usual’?”
“‘Course. Double Cheeseburger, hold the mayo, extra pickles.”
It took a second for that to register. She’d been here enough that Humble was privy to her dining habits. Of course, she knew that despite his grizzled appearance and the grease stains perpetually on his shirt, Humble took great care of his customers; it was part of why Sunny looked forward to this weekly ritual of theirs.
But still, that was certainly something to think about. Maybe she should mix it up one of these times, just for the sake of variety.
“Perhaps, though I’m still thinking about it. Anyhow, you said something about a ‘special order’?”
Humble nodded. “My kid’s got a hankerin’, so I’m making him two animal styles.”
That got Sunny’s attention. “‘Animal Style’? I’m afraid I’ve never heard of that.”
“Patties grilled in mustard, grilled onions, and some special spread on the buns. I know he only said two, but I always make extra ‘cuz they’re so dang good.”
“... Would you be willing to make one for me?” A low growl came from Sunny’s stomach, and she chuckled in embarrassment. “Um… actually, could you make it two?”
To that, Humble laughed. “Sure thing. Hungry today, I take it?”
“Very much. Mother’s on a new fad diet, so dinner last night wasn’t exactly… appetizing.”
A knowing look graced Humble’s rugged features, the older man not needing to say anything else. Instead, he readied four more patties, as well as throwing some fries into the nearby oil.
Sunny always enjoyed watching Humble work. Even in the most extreme of rushes, he was right there in the fray, getting things done in a way that only experience could give. He loved his job, even if it wasn’t the most luxurious of positions.
One day, she hoped to have a job like that as well. One where she could wake up in the morning and honestly say she was excited to work.
“Do not allow yourself to get complacent, Sunny. We’ll be preparing your Hoofvard application soon.”
But part of Sunny figured that was unlikely. And she wanted to ignore such thoughts, either way. She was here to have a good meal, not ruminate on depressing realities.
“So, what exactly does this ‘fat diet’ involve?” Humble asked offhandedly.
“Fad diet, Humble,” Sunny answered. “Essentially it just means she is eating strange foods because it is trendy.”
“And she’s forcing you to do it, too?”
“Well, not directly, but she is the one who tells our cook what to make… and what to pack for my lunch.”
“Tch… high-falutin' types, I tell ya.”
“Hm. Indeed.”
A small silence settled, as it took Humble about five seconds to realize his mistake.
“Oh uh, no offense to you, Sunny. You’re one o’ the good ones.”
Sunny looked down at her hands, a sad smile plastered on her face. “Oh, none taken, Humble. I’m quite used to it.”
“Someone talkin’ bad about’cha behind your back?”
The girl did not answer initially, head hung low at the counter. Part of her did not want to unload her problems onto Humble; he was just a humble man—(no pun intended)—trying to make a living. But on the other hand… it would be nice to have someone—anyone—to talk to about it.
Eventually, the need for Sunny to speak up won out.
“Humble, can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
“Do you think that I act… prissy?”
A hearty belly laugh was the only answer she got initially. But as soon as Humble got his composure back together, he looked at Sunny with an almost amused grin.
“Kid, I got a son who goes to Crystal Prep,” the frycook said. “Nova Knight. Ya know him?”
Sunny’s eyes widened. “I… do actually. But I wasn’t aware he was your son.”
“Ex-wife got custody of him in the divorce,” Humble explained. “Still, he comes and visits me every day. But that’s beside the point.”
“What is the point?” asked Sunny, genuinely curious.
“The point is, I’ve heard that boy complain about a lotta those snobs. But I ain’t never heard one bad word about no Sunny Flare. In fact, from what I have heard, he seems ta think you’re pretty alright.”
That got Sunny’s attention. Searching through her memories for her interactions with Nova, only two instances really came to mind.
The first was the time they bumped into one another on his first day. She was admittedly frustrated at that, but upon him mentioning he was lost, she offered to show him to the class. It was nearby her own, so that had not been inconvenient for her. At the time, Sunny had thought nothing of it.
The second time, however, stuck out a bit clearer.
Sunny had seen Nova coming out of Mother’s office, visibly downtrodden. Her first instinct when Sunny saw that was to go and ask what happened. Apparently, he had gotten detention because another student by the name of Jet Set framed him for cheating on a test.
And upon hearing that, the rest of her instincts kicked right back in, and Sunny tried to cheer him up to the best of her abilities. It didn’t do much, since she wasn’t sure how to make the best out of his still having detention. But at the very least, he wasn’t frowning by the end of it.
Neither of them were much, as far as interactions went. But perhaps they had somehow been enough.
“And for what it’s worth, kiddo,” Humble continued, placing her plate as well as a glass of soda in front of her. “I think you’re pretty alright, too.”
A small smile slipped over Sunny’s lips as she accepted the beverage. Warmth and contentment followed, as the bubbles tickled her throat on the way down. It was a delightful change after a week of water and tea, and left her yearning for more.
Thankfully, with the sight on the plate before her, that yearning was about to be satiated.
This was the first time Sunny had ever seen an ‘Animal Style’ burger before, but she was far from disappointed. Two delicious looking sandwiches, fries, and even a couple of fried pickles on the side; Humble really did know what she liked. Of course, it may have looked appetizing, but the real test was how it tasted.
And as soon as that first bite was taken, Sunny was delighted to find that it passed the test with flying colors. Perfectly cooked meat with some extra kick, lots of melty cheese complimented by the lettuce, grilled onions, and extra pickles, just as she preferred. Heck, even the spread was heaven-sent, a mix of different flavors—including mayonnaise, if her tongue was correct, but for once, she didn’t mind it—that helped to bring the whole thing together.
The girl had to stop herself from scarfing it down too fast. This was something to savor.
“Mmh… amazing as always, Humble!” Sunny said, once she’d finished the first burger. “Makes me wish I could cook so incredibly myself.”
“Well, why don’t you?”
To that, she scoffed. “As if I could get away with it. Mother would have a heart attack if she saw me cooking burgers!”
“Well I say let her,” Humble answered. “Lemme ask ya something, Sunny: when’s the last time ya did something for yourself, without worrying ‘bout what your momma thought?”
Sunny stopped idly munching on a fried pickle for a second. That was a good question, and she honestly had to think about it. When was the last time she had an acquaintance over for something other than a school project? Or asked to buy a shirt without being shut down because mother didn’t approve of the band on it? Or even just went out to have some fun at the park instead of studying?
When was the last time she made a friend without her first thought being ‘will Mother approve of them’?
“Listen kiddo, take it from a man who’s let people walk all over him before,” Humble said, turning off the grill and placing two burgers in a bag. “Y’only got one life. Ain’t no one else gonna live it for ya.”
“I’ll… consider it. Thank you, Humble.”
With a smile and a nod, the frycook left Sunny to her food.
She started on the second burger, and thankfully, it took her thoughts away from depressing reality just as well as the first had. Right now, it didn’t matter whether or not her classmates thought she was some stuck-up princess, or whether or not her mother would scrutinize her for things beyond their control. Right now, she was just Sunny Flare, a simple girl enjoying some good food.
But maybe Humble was right. Maybe she needed to be allowed to be that simple girl more often. Perhaps it would do her good to learn something that would make her happy, or to do something mother wouldn’t approve of.
Maybe then, at least she could get away from being ‘uppity’ Sunny?
…At least for a little while?
But at the same time, could she really do it? She had never been good with confronting her mother, and deeply feared earning her ire. Few knew of the older woman’s ferocious temper, mostly because she was very good at keeping it in check. The last thing Sunny wanted to do was be on the receiving end of that.
That was why she was so careful about coming here, after all. Yet at the same time, that just seemed to be proving the point Humble had made.
It was a fascinating prospect, the idea of learning to cook from Humble Roots. But she would save that conversation with herself for another day.
All different delineations of the same concept, and all applied to Sugarcoat at various points.
Over the last two years, Sugarcoat had established much about herself within these halls. Her intelligence had earned her a spot in the top 10 students in school, and her athletic abilities were sufficient to pass basically any physical trial that was sent her way. Not only that, but being from a wealthy family meant she was privileged, and could afford to go on any trip or go to any event held by the school. The girl wanted for nothing, at least in the eyes of her fellow students.
Would they ever guess, then, that the one thing she wanted—the one thing that would make her truly happy—was something no amount of money could buy, and no amount of intelligence could just grant her?
Everyone knew of Sugarcoat’s ‘serpent’s tongue’, with bluntness to rival a sledgehammer and a near perpetual deadpan tone. While not haughty like Sunny Flare, or manipulative like Suri Polomare, many regarded her as one of the most unpleasant students to be around. She always seemed to have a comment on something, and rarely were they positive.
Even to new students, it seemed…
“My name is Dreadful Strife.”
“Sounds like your parents hated you with a name like that.”
That interaction stung. The new guy was introduced to her by Nova Knight, and he had seemed pleasant enough. Very stoic, and certainly looked like he would fit in with the ‘goth’ crowd, but a nice guy, overall.
And then she got his name.
‘I just had to open my stupid mouth…’
Though his expression was unchanging, Sugarcoat was sure he had been insulted. Who wouldn’t be after such a mean claim, and in front of others as well? News would spread of what she said, and no doubt the actual bullies would use that as ammo against him. First day in Crystal Prep, and because of an attempt by Nova to be helpful, she had effectively put a target on his back.
That event had happened a couple of minutes before the first period, and it had been on her mind ever since. Even now, with lunch period just beginning, it still consumed her thoughts.
Why did she have to be like this?
Most people knew of Sugarcoat, but very few actually knew her. She had her secrets, just like everyone else, and one of them involved how her brain functioned. Of course, her neurodivergence wasn’t something she went around divulging to every random passerby. There was no guarantee others would try to understand, and the wrong person finding out could paint a bigger target on her back.
It was her cross to bear, and hers alone.
And unfortunately, one of her symptoms was very detrimental.
The concept of a ‘Compulsive Liar’ was one Sugarcoat vaguely understood—out there were those who regularly and habitually lied, usually as a symptom to some larger condition.
But for Sugarcoat, she had the reverse.
That was probably a gross oversimplification, but it was the easiest way for her to understand it. Her thoughts came streaming out of her mouth almost as quickly as they appeared in her mind. This on its own would be an annoyance, but in the most ironic twist of fate, Sugarcoat’s thoughts would be expressed in the most direct and unfiltered way possible.
She wanted to say “this part of your song could use some work”?
It came out as “you need to rewrite this part, it flows horribly”.
She wanted to politely decline an invitation?
It came out as “not interested, it sounds boring”.
She was shocked by someone’s strange name, but wasn’t going to comment on it?
Well, now she was, and she’d tell him “that name sounds like your parents hate you”...
The worst part was that, despite Sugarcoat’s attempts at restraint, her impulses were often too much. And almost constantly, it would hurt others’ feelings, though that wasn’t always obvious to the poor girl. But of course, with everyone talking bad about her behind her back, she always got the message eventually.
And the message came loud and clear: Sugarcoat was mean.
Except she wasn’t. Or, at the very least, she didn’t try to be.
But what she tried to be didn’t matter in the long run, especially at a school like Crystal Prep. The rumor mill around this place was utterly vicious, and no one escaped it. Sugarcoat did her best to practice speaking with more tact, but impulse still won out more than she wished it did.
And oftentimes, she got flack for it. Rightfully so in the moment, but after the fact, she’d hear the little digs and the insults they would chuck when her back was turned. When they thought she couldn’t hear them.
“Maybe I should talk to Lemon Zest about that,” Sugarcoat considered, mumbling to herself as she stepped down the hall. “Nah…”
Turning a corner and heading toward the cafeteria, Sugarcoat froze upon seeing Nova Knight and Dreadful Strife having a conversation. Her brain told her to get out of sight, but her feet would not move. She just kept staring, part of her wondering what they were saying.
Eventually, her mind caught up to her, and she hid around the nearby corner, desperately trying to make sure even her breaths were as quiet as she could manage. The thought of being caught by the two of them had her stiff as a board and still as a statue.
God only knows what kind of rumors might start if they could now add ‘eavesdropper’ to her list of titles…
“So, anyone give you any guff?” asked Nova Knight.
“Not particularly,” Dread answered. “Most I got was that one offhand comment from Sugarcoat.”
The girl in question felt her heartbeat quicken, as the guilt of her earlier actions hit her once again. She mouthed the words ‘me and my stupid mouth’, as she readied herself for Dread to talk badly about her.
Just like everyone else in this school did…
“So, uh… what’d you think about her?”
A locker door closed. All she could do was wait now, for whatever new name he had in mind.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity to her, an answer was received:
“I like her. She’s funny.”
Sugarcoat blinked, mouth agape. Certainly she hadn’t heard that right.
No part of her wanted to believe that those words were spoken in earnest, especially after giving Dread such a negative first impression. Funny? For saying his parents hate him? That had to be a joke, right? Plenty of comedy flew right over her head, or didn’t get much of a reaction from her, so perhaps.
“Right?” Nova said with a chuckle. “Y’know, you’re the second person who gets it with her. Everyone else just thinks she’s mean.”
“Really?” Dread asked.
“Yeah, you shoulda heard ‘em in third period. They were calling her all sorts of names because of what she said to you.”
The new student scoffed. “Not like I haven’t heard it before. And besides that, her delivery was hilarious.”
Was this for real? Were they for real? No, that didn’t make sense. She was Sugarcoat, the ‘mean’ girl who hurt everyone’s feelings. They couldn’t possibly like her for that, could they?
“They sound so genuine…” she mumbled as quietly as possible, shaking slightly. She had to hear more.
“Yeah, but the rumor mill ‘round here is pretty sucky,” Nova noted. “Heck, I’ve always liked a couple of the girls they talk bad about. Seem nicer to me than anyone else in this school.”
Sugarcoat herself was unsure if that was a compliment to her, or a criticism of the student body as a whole. She liked to think of herself as someone who did not ruffle feathers, but considering every interaction ended in failure, how much was that really worth? How much weight did her not being selfish or manipulative carry when everything out of her mouth upset her fellow students? Was that on her, or was that on everyone else?
She just… couldn’t understand.
“I’d like to meet Sugarcoat again,” Dread told Nova. “I certainly like her more than the others I’ve met.”
“You should try meetin’ up with her after school, she’s usually there waiting for her mom to pick her up.”
“You sure seem to know a lot about her, Nova.”
“Heh. We play Monster Fighter sometimes.”
Sugarcoat allowed herself a small smile at that. She loved Monster Fighter, from the first game she had played way back when. But unfortunately, most people didn’t even touch the game at CPA, viewing it as juvenile. While she could certainly agree that the last games were way too easy, that didn’t stop her from playing, or from getting Sour Sweet and Nova Knight to fight her in it.
“Monster Fighter, huh?” Dread asked.
“Yea, why?” asked Nova in kind. “You play?”
“Well, Seraphino did get me the new one for my birthday. Maybe I’ll ask about fighting her one of these days.”
“Sounds like fun. Hey, we could go find her right now, if you want. I’m sure she’s somewhere around here.”
“Afraid I can’t. I promised I’d meet Seraphino outside the school. You want to come?”
The last thing Sugarcoat heard was a small noise of confirmation coming from Nova Knight, followed by footsteps heading in the opposite direction from her. Now, as far as she knew, the hallway was empty save for her.
Well, her and her thoughts…
“They think I’m funny,” mumbled Sugarcoat. “I don’t think what I said was funny…”
And that was the crux of the issue, from her perspective. Even after hearing Dreadful Strife explain that her ‘delivery’ was what made the line amusing, the humor of it was still lost on her. Admittedly, it was nice to think someone didn’t automatically assume malice, and Sugarcoat was not about to spurn that.
But she was not joking earlier. Thus, it still hurt…
“I owe him an apology,” said Sugarcoat, surprising herself. Apologies were never her forte, the cynic in her mind telling her that it was pointless—she was just going to say something stupid again, after all. However, knowing Nova and Dread actually liked her certainly inspired confidence.
It would not be the easiest thing, but she had to try.
“Next time I see Dread, I’m going to apologize,” she declared proudly, standing back up. Merely getting those words out was encouraging enough, and got the gears in Sugarcoat’s mind spinning.
Perhaps she could recruit some assistance, or at least someone who could offer advice. Like maybe Lemon Zest, distracted as she always seemed, would be willing to listen. Indigo Zap was also an option; no doubt the athlete could help with that unshakable self-assuredness of hers.
Or maybe Sour Sweet. The moody girl might have seemed like an odd choice on the surface, but she was the closest thing Sugarcoat had to a friend.
A fact she resolved to rectify with Dread.
After all, to have real friends was all she ever wanted. And maybe now, she could. But she had to be willing to do the right thing.
Tentative footsteps were taken, as the blue girl headed toward her locker. The trip was short, but it felt like an eternity when one was deep in thought. Already, she was planning out ways to give Dread a proper apology, considering the likes of a written note, or asking to meet him after school, or even attempting something involving Monster Fighter.
Regardless of what she decided on, she knew one thing for certain in her heart: Sugarcoat wasn’t mean.
And she was sick of others seeing her that way—others who didn’t even know her—so it was time to do something about it.
And unlike all of the other times she tried, this time, she would succeed.
Lime Candy had been called many things over the years, but those three came up far more often than she preferred.
In Crystal Prep Academy, reputation was everything. From the moment one enters those halls on their first day of freshman year, fellow students would begin building an image of that person. One had to either be an incredible student or an exceptional athlete to be spared even slightly from the rumor mill’s all-consuming grip.
Unfortunately for her and her twin sister, neither of those labels applied to them.
As the two sat at the hardwood counter of the smoothie shop, soothing smooth jazz buzzing in their ears from the speakers, much of Lime’s energy was focused on ensuring Lemon Zest’s mood was brightened. This day had been a perfect storm of negativity for the music lover; Indigo Zap was not at school, Lemon’s headphones had been taken away, and people were talking badly about her.
Thus, being Lime Candy, she wasn’t about to take that sitting down. She would make her sister smile by the end of lunch if it was the last thing she did.
“So then, Hightail was freaking out, screaming like she was in a horror flick,” said Lime, recalling a humorous story about one of the soccer players. “And next thing I knew, the team was in the back corner!”
A small chuckle escaped her twin sister’s mouth. “All that over a wasp in the locker room?”
“Yep. Then Indi squashed it.”
The ends of Lemon’s lips curled into a smile, signaling success. Lime had always had good ‘emotional intelligence’, according to her teachers, and at times like these, she used it to great effect. Both sisters were missing Indigo, even if they were sure their friend would be back on Monday. Thus, sharing a humorous story seemed like an easy way to bring the mood up.
Lemon took a sip of her mango smoothie. “Man, hard to believe two of ‘em are in the Top 10 smartest students, when they’re freaking out over a little bug.”
“Yeah,” Lime agreed. “But to be fair, booksmarts ain’t everything. I mean, look at Sugarcoat.”
“Once again, point taken.”
As Lime took a sip of her own tropical fruit smoothie, she thought back to Sugarcoat. She had always admired the white-haired girl’s academic prowess, but it couldn’t be denied that she had a hard time in person-to-person interactions. It was certainly a tradeoff, and one she made up for in classes.
Like earlier today, when they were in third period. Due to Indigo being absent and missing the pop quiz, Sugarcoat was the first to complete it. Unsurprising, given she was a ‘Top 3’ student academically, but following shortly after were the likes of Hightail, Jet Set, and even Trenderhoof.
Lime Candy, much to her chagrin, was the last person to finish the quiz, a minute before the bell.
And of course, the giggles from the likes of Hightail and Upper Crust…
“Something wrong, sis?”
Lime Candy turned in her seat until she was completely facing Lemon Zest. “What makes you think that?”
“Dunno, you just seem… off.”
The shorter-haired sister giggled. “Kinda proving my point about how perceptive you are.”
Unfortunately, Lemon Zest didn’t see the humor in it. “I’m being serious, Lime. Is something bothering you? You know you can talk to me about it, right?”
“Well, there really isn’t much to talk about.”
The rocker girl deadpanned. “Liar.”
Lime Candy winced at that. Her own words were used against her…
“L-look, it’s fine,” she mumbled, avoiding eye contact. “I can take it.”
“You shouldn’t have to take it,” Lemon insisted. “Why should I be sitting here having you cheer me up while you’re keeping it all to yourself?”
“Because you’re the one whose headphones got confiscated?” offered Lime, surprised by the frustration on her sister’s face. However, that frustration swiftly melted away to disappointment, as Lemon turned her attention back to the counter.
“Sis… I want to help you too. You know that, right?”
That question hit Lime Candy like a truck. Did Lemon Zest really believe that she didn’t want to share her problems with her? Because if so, that was another thing to throw onto her list of messes to fix; the two always shared things they found important.
It was simply that right now, Lemon’s problems were of utmost importance to Lime.
“O-of course I do,” Lime answered hesitantly. “But I promise, it’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before. I can take it.”
For a second, her sister’s frustration returned with a vengeance, but was quickly subdued by another emotion. Lime did not like to see that look, the glint of disappointment in her twin’s eyes almost too much to bear.
“I could at least try to make you smile…” Lemon told her. “Like you’ve been doing for me.”
Neither sister said anything for a bit, Lime eventually turning back to her original position. Unfortunately, as she did, her elbow bumped something. A chill ran down her side as she heard the spill, frozen juice splattering all over the counter.
Sucking on her teeth in frustration, Lime turned to the employee at the front counter. “I’m so sorry, I’ll clean that up.”
“No need, miss,” the employee told her, already grabbing a roll of paper towels. “We’ll get this mess dealt with.”
Sure enough, the offending drink was cleaned post-haste. That was another detail of this little smoothie shop that Lime Candy loved—the employees actually seemed to like their jobs. In no time at all, it was as though it never happened.
‘If only every mess were so easy to clean…’
The shorter haired sister stood up abruptly, surprising her sister.
“Something up, Lime?” asked Lemon.
“Nah, I just have to use the bathroom,” Lime answered lamely; not a lie, but not the whole truth. “I’ll be right back.”
And so, Lime Candy walked away. Along the way, she tripped, but quickly got back to standing before anyone could say something. She was used to little jeers when she tripped, and didn’t want any more today.
And once Lime was in the single stall, a weak sigh escaped her lips.
Truth of the matter was, she didn’t have to use the bathroom. She just needed a moment away.
After a minute or so, she got up and left the stall. Going over to the sink and looking into the mirror, the junior saw her reflection well enough. There, staring back at her, was the ‘stupid’ girl everyone liked to pick on.
Over the last two years, the student body had built an image of Lime Candy. She was the girl who was constantly tripping over herself, or grabbing onto things nearby for some reason. The girl who’s grades were low by Crystal Prep’s incredibly high standards. The girl who always seemed to miss when people were trying to get her attention.
And now she could add ‘the girl who didn’t even notice how her own sister was suffering too’ onto that list. And considering Lime was saying that about herself, it made her feel far worse.
“It’s so bad that she’s considering leaving her headphones back home this Monday…”
The very thought made her stomach turn. Lemon Zest loved her music, so to think someone would make her want to spend the day without it meant it must have been bad. Or maybe it was many incidents that were just building up, and this was her sister’s breaking point.
If the latter, then Lime Candy wanted to smack herself. How could she have been so blind…?
Glancing toward the mirror again frustrated the teen. Lime couldn’t bear to see those yellow eyes staring back at her, and soon found herself staring at the floor once again. After a few seconds, her hands met her face, and with a few practiced motions, she grabbed it out.
Resting perfectly in her palm, frustratingly fragile and irritatingly small, was a contact lens. To most, it was a simple tool for better eyesight, but Lime Candy was not most. For her, this little thing was meant for a very different purpose. It hid a secret that most people either didn’t know, or didn’t care about.
This time, she turned to her reflection again, and found herself face to face with the real Lime Candy. In truth, it wasn’t too far off from the version presented to everyone else—same green hair, same uniform, same button nose. But what made this so different was the very thing the contact was meant to hide:
Lime Candy’s right iris… instead of the bright amber, was a faded gray. There was still a yellowish tint to it, but no amount of light reached this eye, and hadn’t for the last nine, nearly ten, years.
The truth behind her clumsiness—the truth she hid from others on a daily basis—was that Lime Candy was half-blind.
For more than half of her life, this had been Lime’s cross to bear. Ever since one fateful day where she received a punch so strong, it severed the optic nerve entirely. She could still remember the pain vividly, as she had clutched her face, back against the pavement, screaming her lungs out. But the part that had always shook her most was that this blow was not received from an adult or an older bully… but by a girl her own age, whom she’d been playing a game with just a few minutes before.
Eventually, with a little therapy and a lot of time, Lime got over it. Or at the very least, she moved forward from it. Life would never be the same, but she was never one to sit around and mope for too long. And so, she adjusted, finding little ways to make up for her new lack of depth perception.
Some days it did get the better of her (such as right now, for instance), but on the whole, Lime was able to make it through life despite her handicap.
But of course, most people didn’t realize that was the reason she still struggled to interact with the world around her. The contact lens in her hand was to thank for that; it’s one purpose was to make her eye look normal, and did a very good job as far as that was concerned. No one at Crystal Prep except Lemon Zest and Indigo Zap knew, and part of Lime wanted to keep it that way.
Another part of her, however, couldn’t help but wonder, the same way Lemon was considering the idea of leaving her headphones at home. From time to time, the thought of just ‘forgetting’ to put the darn thing in had floated through Lime’s mind.
Would she receive the same jeers and insults if they knew they were picking on a disabled girl? Or would the treatment be just as unforgiving despite her impairment? So far, Lime had been too afraid to learn the answer, and yet she couldn’t help but wonder.
But then again, she wondered about a lot of things. Like how she and Lemon had gotten so lucky as to move to Canterlot. Or how unlucky it was that Crystal Prep seemed to attract so many jerks to their campus, as opposed to somewhere like CHS. Sometimes, she pondered on if she should consider finding a tutor to improve her grades, or if maybe she and Lemon Zest could form a study group to achieve that.
And more frequently in the past, but still occasionally nowadays… Lime Candy wondered how she ended up friends with the very girl who took her eyesight.
At the end of the day, though, these questions rarely lingered, and whatever guff she got, she mostly took in stride. Lime could do this because she had her friends there; they weren’t many, but they were enough. That was why she always put her best toward making sure that whenever her friends had a problem, they’d work to solve it.
Not that Lime Candy had all the answers, of course. But she tried her best. After all, if they were happy, she would be happy too.
‘I should get back to sis,’ she told herself. ‘She’s probably ordered another smoothie for me, knowing her.’
And so, with another practiced motion, Lime carefully placed the contact lens back in. One last check in the mirror to ensure her appearance was right, and the girl exited the bathroom once again.
Sure enough, Lemon Zest was sitting at the counter, a new tropical fruit smoothie nearby. As she returned to her seat, the half-blind girl couldn’t keep the smile off her face. The same, however, couldn’t be said for her twin, who was looking rather dejected.
“Thanks, sis,” she said casually, taking a sip of the new drink.
“No problem,” Lemon told her, almost finished with her own smoothie. “And uh… sorry if I upset you there.”
That line of thought was immediately snuffed by Lime, with nothing more than a smile. “You never upset me, Lemon. I guess I just was caught off guard. But if I ever do feel like it’s too much, you’ll be the first to know.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
And with that, the rocker girl was happy once again, and Lime could go back to enjoying their break. All of her problems with Crystal Prep seemed small and faraway when she was with her sister—no, not just her sister, but her best friend.
A best friend who had been suffering just as much as she was.
And that still made her feel stupid for not noticing…
But now that she did, she could start making their situation better, and be emotionally supportive when Lemon was having a bad day.
Since the very beginning of her schooling, she had always been the farthest thing from ‘Miss Popular’. From a young age, most kids found her hard to be around because of her unique behavioral pattern. Time did little to alleviate this issue, and as the years went on, she remained virtually friendless as a result. She considered herself lucky that she had been able to test into Crystal Prep, where her skill with a bow at least meant she could earn some respect from her fellow students.
But unfortunately, even with that respect, the rumor mill was ruthless. The student body’s all seeing eyes were always looking for weak points, and once everyone knew hers, there was no question as to why she received so many wayward glances.
Today in particular had been exceedingly trying for the moody girl. She’d nearly exploded on three different people today, and lunch had only just begun. At least she had managed to rein her temper back in, but that didn’t do much to make her feel better. If anything, the fact that such an act was done by the skin of her teeth only made Sour Sweet feel worse.
Why did she have to be like this?
Walking through the lonely halls of Crystal Prep, Sour Sweet had nothing to distract herself from her own thoughts. Even with her medication, some days were worse than others, but today was one of the worst days in recent memory. She didn’t know if it was stress from all the tests scheduled, or the fact that she’d skipped breakfast, but something had her ready to go off on anyone at a moment’s notice.
And that weighed heavily on the poor girl’s psyche.
Most people knew Sour Sweet could fly off the handle at virtually anyone—even Sugarcoat, the closest thing she had to a real friend. She tried to put on a sweet face and keep a kind tone with most people, and oftentimes, she succeeded. But her control would slip, and when it did, whoever made it slip would receive her ire, as well as whatever biting comment she had at the ready.
That was her reputation within Crystal Prep. A two-faced witch who put on this sweet act, only to drop it as soon as you frustrated her.
She knew of the whispers…
“Hey, you hear she blew up on Lemon Zest earlier?”
“I’m surprised Sugarcoat and her can tolerate each other.”
“Must be exhausting pretending to be nice to everyone.”
Her footsteps quickened, as she recalled that last one. It was exhausting, but not for the reasons that everyone else assumed.
Not that they could ever know of course. She would never allow others to know of her strife; only Sugarcoat knew the truth, and even then, she’d only found out by pure accident.
No one else would get it, and if they did, they wouldn’t care.
They wouldn’t give a hoot about her struggles with her emotions. Her constant anxieties about forgetting her medication at home. Her fears about her prescription running out and having an episode before she could get it refilled.
And the fact that Sour Sweet couldn’t divulge only added to her stresses.
Everyone in this school knew of her, but because of a little something she had never opted into, everyone assumed she was lying to them. Her emotions had always run high, feelings bubbling close to the surface, and able to switch on a dime. And it always left her so drained after it was done—not merely because of the sudden shift in energy, but because of the end results.
Those mood swings were never fun, for anyone involved. And especially for her, given that it always seemed to go back and forth between two extremes: ‘sour’ and ‘sweet’.
To the outsider looking in, it seemed far too fitting, yet to Sour Sweet herself, it was the cruelest of ironies. Many had already developed their own opinions on the subject, and almost universally, the agreed upon answer was rather simple.
‘Sour’ was who she really was. ‘Sweet’ was merely a mask.
How Sour Sweet wished she could dispel that notion. Neither one was a mask, it’s just that she preferred Sweet over Sour; and who wouldn’t, when being angry is so exhausting? But at this point, it already seemed set in stone. Who would even believe her, after everything?
“Oof!”
Falling to the ground from the sudden impact, Sour Sweet felt her anger well up, boiling over faster than she could even hope to control. Before she was even aware of the words leaving her mouth, she heard them.
“Watch where you’re going, you moron! Honestly, am I the only one in this stupid school with their eyes open!?”
There was a brief quiet, before a light chuckle came from the other person.
“Well, I shan’t speak for the entire school, but at this moment, I was too distracted for my own good.”
Sour had to do a double take at that, eyes opening in sheer shock that someone didn’t respond to her hostility with anger of their own. She didn’t recognize this mysterious voice, but the mellow disposition in his tone caught her completely off guard.
Who was this person?
Opening her eyes, Sour Sweet got an answer. He was tall, standing almost an entire foot over Sour Sweet’s own 5’2, with alabaster skin, and long flowing ebon hair that perfectly contrasted the reds and purples of the Crystal Prep uniform.
Looking to Sour with a smile on his face, she could see something in his green eyes. No anger or annoyance. In fact, he seemed happy to see her.
‘Well, that’s a first…’ the moody girl lamented. ‘He must be new here.’
“Terribly sorry about that,” the young man told Sour Sweet. “I was just looking for the cafeteria. You wouldn’t happen to know where it is, would you?”
“Well, of course…” she said, her mood returning to ‘sweet’. “I could show you where it is, if you want?”
“I’d certainly appreciate it.”
And with that, Sour began leading this stranger down the hall. Most of the student body were already at the cafeteria or off campus. She was incredibly thankful for this, as it meant no one there to gawk at her, or talk behind her back.
“So, what’s your name, madam?” the mysterious boy asked.
“It’s Sour Sweet,” she said quietly, refusing to meet his gaze. “Go ahead and get the joke out of the way…”
“... What ‘joke’ are you referring to, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Sour did mind, actually, and was quick to deflect his question. “N-nevermind, don’t worry about it. What’s your name?”
The ebon-haired boy grinned. “Seraphino. I believe I saw you in history class earlier. Second period, correct?”
“Yeah with Professor High Marks,” the moody girl answered. “I didn’t notice you there. I was distracted by… something else.”
“Oh? What?”
“None of your business!”
Sour winced, especially as she turned to Seraphino and saw his face. He flinched only slightly because of the sudden shift in mood, but even that made her feel terrible. Yes, she was entitled to her privacy, but she didn’t like the idea of exploding on someone for an innocent question.
And of course, the guilt was only compounded as she heard a giggle come from behind them.
Looking past Seraphino, Sour Sweet could see an annoyingly familiar face behind her. It was Hightail, a member of the soccer team, and one of the ‘Top 10’ in the school. And as she approached, the amused grin on her face made Sour’s own contort into a scowl.
“Wow, that’s gotta be a record,” Hightail said. “Usually you give people a good two days before the mask slips.”
Seraphino raised an eyebrow at this declaration. “‘Mask’?”
“What do you want, Hightail?” Sour sneered.
“Oh nothing, just heard we got a new student,” the soccer star said innocently. “But I see I’m too late. Seems Miss Masquerade got to you first.”
Upon hearing that name, Sour felt her fists clench as hard as her body could manage. She despised that name so much. The fact that she had a derogatory nickname to begin with was bad enough, but the implications of it made her want to scream.
“I fail to see how that’s any of your concern, madam,” Seraphino deadpanned. “Our discussion has been quite amicable.”
“Yeah, that’s how it always starts,” Hightail countered, her smug smirk never leading her face. “Word to the wise, I’d stay away from her. She might sit there and pretend like she’s nice, but it’s all an act. One wrong word and she’ll rip into you like a lion ripping into a gazelle.”
“Shut up!” Sour yelled, in equal parts rage and sadness.
Any chance of making a good first impression had been washed down the drain with her first outburst. But now, Hightail was only making the situation worse for her. And the worst part of it all?
Sour Sweet knew why Hightail was doing this. Neither of them had forgotten that conversation from yesterday…
Why did she have to be like this?
“Balderdash.”
Sour looked up, seeing the annoyance plain as day on Seraphino’s face. Hightail seemed confused by this, but didn’t get any chance to voice that.
“I’ve seen nothing thus far to even remotely indicate such behavior,” the boy continued. “So I’ll ask you to take your hearsay and peddle it to someone who cares.”
Hightail’s expression turned sour in an instant. “Wow, that’s rude. I’m just looking out for you, new guy.”
“I can take care of myself, thank you very much.”
Sour watched on, stunned silent at Seraphino’s behavior, especially when she’d been screaming at him for virtually nothing. It was nice, but… why?
Hightail rolled her eyes at him. “Fine. But when she ends up biting your head off, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
And with that, the soccer player walked off, leaving the two of them alone once again. Once she was out of earshot, Seraphino let out a frustrated sigh.
“The nerve of some people,” he said, scowling until the girl finally was out of sight.
Once she was gone, though, he turned to Sour, smiling once again “Are you okay, Sour Sweet?”
“... Why’d you stand up for me?”
Seraphino didn’t respond initially, instead looking at her as though she had asked a question with the most obvious answer in the world. That only made her more embarrassed.
“Whatever do you mean?”
“Don’t play dumb with me!” she exclaimed, getting up in Seraphino’s face. “You don’t know anything about me! And all that you DO know has been me yelling at you! You had NO reason to stand up for me like that!”
He took a step back, clearly surprised by Sour’s sudden burst of rage, making the girl realize what she did. As if she needed more reasons to believe he was making a mistake by helping her…
Yet despite that, he regained his composure as quickly as it was shaken. “I also had no reason not to stand up for you like that.”
His answer was said without an ounce of hesitation in his voice. It wasn’t even a very complex reasoning, yet Sour had to take a step back herself, simply because of how brazenly he told her that.
“Wh-what do you mean!?” She asked incredulously. “What, do you just let people walk all over you!?”
He shook his head. “Nothing of the sort. You just saw an example of that.”
“Well then WHAT!?”
That last word echoed through the halls, all of her frustration seeping into it. The frustration that she knew Seraphino didn’t deserve, yet she was putting on him anyway. The worst thing he had done was bump into her, and yet here she was yelling at him over something stupid, all because she couldn’t keep her temper under control…
Seraphino wasted no time answering once again. His response was quiet compared to hers, yet it shook her far more.
“Because everyone deserves a chance.”
No words came to Sour Sweet’s frazzled mind as those five little words played over and over. She found herself leaning against a nearby locker, just sort of taking that thought in.
How long had it been since she had a chance?
Almost a year, she supposed. The last new student they got was a chance for a fresh start—a chance to make a friend without her reputation causing trouble—but she ended up expending that one too. Such things did not last long when she could be so volatile.
So to know this one hadn’t been squandered yet was certainly a comfort.
“I take it that today hasn’t been a good day for you, Sour Sweet?” Seraphino asked.
“Not really…” she admitted, having calmed down enough to maintain a more neutral tone.
“Well, let us rectify that, shall we?”
Without another word, the ivory-skinned boy pulled out his phone, sending a couple of texts back and forth with someone. A pit of unease formed in Sour Sweet’s stomach, wondering who exactly he was texting.
‘Maybe he’s looking for an excuse to get out of here…’ the little cynic in her mind told her. ‘Maybe he just said that to be nice?’
The final ding was accompanied by a nod, and Seraphino immediately veered left, past Sour Sweet.
“I just remembered I can go off-campus for the lunch hour, and thus, I’ll be meeting a friend outside of the school,” he explained.
Sour Sweet sighed. Just as she feared…
“So, I guess this is where we part ways?” she asked, trying to hide how defeated she felt at that.
“Actually, no. If you wish to join us, then I would certainly not be opposed to it.”
Sour Sweet blinked. Did she just hear him correctly?
“You’d… want me to meet your friend?”
“I don’t see why not.”
Once again, Sour had no words. Some part of her felt like Seraphino was being too nice here - that he would get burned for these actions when he finally did something that made her snap, or when his patience wore thin with her attitude problems. That just like every interaction here besides Sugarcoat, she’d end up mucking it up, and adding him to the list of people who have a problem with her.
And yet, Seraphino’s words stuck with her. Why not, indeed?
Call it impulse, or recklessness, or courage, but Sour Sweet found whatever it was. And with an apprehensive shrug, she agreed, following close.
She did not know how this might end, but having this kind of chance was always nice.
When people thought of Indigo Zap, they often had those three words come to mind.
Ever since the track tryouts of freshman year, everyone with even a passing interest in sports had realized that Indigo Zap was different. That had been made clear with the unshakable confidence Zap had shown in her challenge to the then-captain of the Crystal Prep track team, First Snow: for them to do just one lap around the track, with Indigo boasting that she would leave First Snow ‘in the dust’. The freshman’s claim had been easily substantiated, as despite giving her opponent a 5-second head start, Indigo had finished her lap before Snow had even rounded the final corner.
In one fell swoop, Indigo Zap had solidified that any team at Crystal Prep would be foolish not to take her. So, when she had finally decided on soccer as her sport of choice, her abilities were put on display for all to see.
The choice had garnered Indigo much respect from the faculty, and even more from many students, who practically insisted on seeing their school win. And her reputation only continued to expand, as the blue-haired girl had always seemed eager to show off how amazing she was.
From the time she’d matched the captain of the Boys’ Weightlifting team in a contest of strength, to her continued excellence on the soccer field, to her ability to get tackled by their school’s quarterback and shrug it off like it was nothing. Each and every one of those incidents were eaten up by the rumor mill, and made her something of a legend.
She even had a nickname, stemming from the fact that they hadn’t lost a game since she joined the team. She was known as Indigo the Invincible.
But some days, even the ‘Invincible’ Indigo Zap needed a break.
Currently, she sat in her bedroom, pencil dancing lines across one of the last pages in her sketchbook. While it might have been a school day, the girl had gotten out of it by merely asking nicely. With parents as doting as hers, all Indigo had to do was play it up a little, and she was free to skip, effectively netting herself a three-day weekend. One which she desperately needed. Even now, as she finished a little drawing of a cartoon pegasus, the stress of the last few weeks still weighed upon her.
There was a whole other side to being Indigo the Invincible that was painful to endure.
No one dared say it to Indigo’s face, but she knew the whispers. Her boastful nature and subsequent demonstrations of her physical prowess had as many detractors as fans. And with Crystal Prep’s all consuming, high-stakes rumor mill in play, it was only a matter of time before people started twisting her athletic accomplishments.
Like when she had matched the Boys’ Weightlifting team? Apparently she had ‘emasculated’ them.
Or her incredible performances during soccer games? Those only proved she was a ‘spotlight hog’.
Her 2nd place spot academically? She was ‘obviously bullying someone into doing her work’. Who, exactly? No one knew, but apparently she was…
Indigo had heard the term ‘suffering from success’ before, but she’d never thought it could be so literal. And of course, she absolutely despised that her attempts to make herself seem larger than life were interpreted as attempts to put everyone else down.
Such a thing couldn’t be further from the truth. It had merely been an attempt to ‘sell herself’ to the people watching; her parents were both in real estate, and they had always told her how important confidence was. To think that her attempt to get on a team, or simple attempts to make friends, could somehow all end up so poorly… It was disheartening, to say the least.
And all because she could only really share one piece of herself…
As Indigo stepped away from her sketchbook, she turned to the closet door, and looked at herself in the full-length mirror attached to it. And who she saw staring back almost seemed like a stranger.
The Indigo Zap that she was used to seeing had her hair swept back. But this girl in the mirror wore hers down, curling at the ends, but otherwise completely straight. Gone too was the Crystal Prep uniform, replaced instead with a baby blue sports bra and bright pink pajama pants. Nowhere on her were her usual wristbands, nor any of her many piercings, nor even her signature goggles.
Even her own eyes seemed alien, with those honey-colored orbs currently hidden behind a pair of big, round, gold-framed spectacles.
She had never showed off this Indigo Zap to anyone at Crystal Prep. Only her friends Lemon Zest and Lime Candy even knew she wore glasses at all. Indigo had kept that a closely guarded secret. She had many secrets kept close by and protected, knowing in her heart that even something as simple as her sweet tooth might open her up to scrutiny.
To everyone else, this Indigo in the mirror might as well be a completely different person. Heck, half of the time, Indigo herself could hardly believe this was her. But she could still tell they were the same because of one distinct, unchanging feature:
Her muscles.
Despite how much she hated the rumor regarding her grades, Indigo almost couldn’t fault the student body for it. Being so athletic and so intelligent at the same time almost seemed unfair. But it wasn’t like she had ever asked for this. However much ice cream she enjoyed, or even if she deliberately tried to avoid exercise when she wasn’t at school, her tone never seemed to atrophy. She had more muscle definition than any girl in school, and physical strength in abundance for it.
The very same strength with which she had left a girl half-blind years prior…
Even from a young age, this power had always been with her, and had only grown over the last decade. Up until 8th grade, Indigo had gone out of her way to use it as little as possible, especially after that incident. But it had been made clear during one little race that nothing short of being in a coma would make this go away. Puberty and her training with the high school soccer team only further enhanced her physicality, and over all that time, she had gone from viewing it as a curse, to a blessing, and now back to a curse.
Indigo knew of the whispers of ‘bully’, ‘meathead’, and so on. Some days, she felt like the word freak was what they should be saying. After all, that word actually felt accurate…
The star athlete of Crystal Prep couldn’t stand to look at herself anymore, and yanked her closet door open. Peeling off her layers, they were very quickly replaced with a new set of clothes. The baggiest jeans she had, coupled with her biggest hoodie. It wasn’t even particularly cold out, but that didn’t matter to Indigo right now. As long as she could cover as much skin as possible, that was the only part she was concerned with.
When she finally exited the closet, Indigo gave herself one last once-over in the mirror.
To her delight, the hoodie and jeans succeeded at their given mission. The baggy top hid her biceps and abs, and the jeans went well with it, while hiding her muscular legs from sight.
And as the old adage goes: out of sight, out of mind.
“Indi, sweetie! Lunch is ready!”
The sweet sound of her mother’s voice pulled Indigo from her thoughts, and she headed downstairs with a smile on her face. Lunch always helped, and it was hard to be sad about anything when enjoying a meal with family.
A quick trip downstairs to the dining room revealed to her a sandwich on the table. Egg & tuna salad, by the look of it—Indigo’s longtime favorite. Her mother, Social Butterfly, was over by the fridge, putting away the leftovers for later. Despite still being dressed for work, when mother dearest heard her daughter wanted to stay home, she often chose to take calls for the day at home, so that she could make sure Indigo was taken care of.
Both of her parents had always been attentive to her like that. Indigo considered herself lucky she had been adopted by such loving people.
But such attention was a double-edged sword, sometimes.
“Sweetie, why are you wearing that… thing?” she asked in confusion. “It’s hardly cold, inside or out.”
Indigo rubbed the back of her neck, chuckling nervously. “I just felt like wearing it, mom. That’s all…”
“Are you sure?” the older woman asked, approaching her daughter. “I know you said you’re not sick, but I don’t want you burning up.”
“Y-yeah, totally. It’s fine…”
As her mother continued to approach, the younger girl winced at how unsure she had sounded with that last line. She wasn’t a terrible liar, per se, but if anyone could read her like a book…
“Indi, is there another reason you wanted to stay home today?”
…It was Mom.
“It’s…” Indi hesitated, not really able to meet her mother’s gaze anymore.
She wished she could explain the feeling inside her heart, but words always seemed to fail her in moments like this. Maybe if she could talk to someone about it, rather than her mind freezing up and being unable to articulate, things would be better than they were.
But instead… she defaulted to her usual response. “... It’s just one of those days, mom.”
Mother didn’t know what Indigo even meant by ‘those days’, but the look on her face said it all.
“Oh, sweetie…” she said, pulling her daughter into an embrace, and gently stroking her hair. “It’ll be okay, I promise. Whatever it is, momma will make it better, alright?”
Those words should have made her feel better than they actually did.
After sitting down to have her lunch, Indigo took some solace in how it tasted so great. She was happy to be home, where she could step away from her problems, even if just for a little bit. Crystal Prep seemed so far away when she wasn’t there, when she didn’t have to deal with all of the hearsay and negativity. Or when she didn’t have to live up to her teammates’ expectations as Indigo the Invincible.
But Indigo knew she wasn’t the only one to deal with such things. She knew what they said about Lemon Zest and Lime Candy, or about people like Sugarcoat and Sour Sweet. And this knowledge led to paranoia, constantly fearing what they might latch onto if they knew anything else about Indigo herself. Loving to compete had turned into her being a bully. What would the other students think of her drawing magic horses? Or her various body image issues? Or her fear of lightning?
Indigo shuddered at the mere thought.
It wasn’t long before her sandwich was gone, and Indigo left with a simple ‘thank you’ and nothing more. As much as Mom might have promised to try and make things better, the blue-haired girl much preferred the idea of just laying down and thinking about anything other than school. Especially anything other than her reputation.
Sometimes… Indigo wanted an escape from herself. A chance to be someone she didn’t feel comfortable being at school. Someone she didn’t feel comfortable being in front of… well, most anyone.
They called her Indigo the Invincible. But most days, she felt like porcelain.
That was why she tried so hard. Indigo dressed herself up with her boasting and her competitive nature, not to mention her sportbands and piercings and even her goggles, trying to live up to the hype as best she could. She wanted to be strong, to have people like her, and to prove to others how cool she really was.
And more than anything, she wanted to be invincible. But no matter how much she dressed herself up…
In the end, porcelain is still porcelain. And it was only a matter of time before cracks would inevitably start to show.
