Chapter One: A Heartfelt Letter

>Your eyes scan across the small, pink letter once again, yourself unsure if you read it right
>The words, each written with extreme care and with excellent penmanship, are as confusing as they are distressing
>It’s a tale of how you’ve always been there
>It’s a tale of how you were the one who cared when nobody else would bat an eye at her
>It’s a tale which ends with a cursive word at the bottom of the letter, each letter lovingly detailed
>’Prom?’
>”Hiy’a, Anon!”
>You start with a jump, instincts kicking in as you throw the letter back in your locker and slam it shut
>When you turn and face whoever it was that snuck up on you, however, you let out a sigh
“Sweetie Belle, I swear to God…”
>The freshman’s only response is to giggle as you rub your temple
>”What’cha all jumpy for?” she says while going for her own locker, of which is adjacent to yours
“Jumpy? So you wouldn’t be panicky if I snuck up on you and went, ‘Hi’ya, Sweetie!’ right in your ear?”
>You grumble a few more, less polite words as you collect yourself and tentatively reach for your locker
>She hums a thoughtful tune
>”I dunno, it’s not every day that someone calls me a sweetie.”
>You mutter a, “Oh, fuck off,” as she giggles in response
>Your hand falters
>Maybe it’s best to leave the letter in there for now
>You shake your head and turn to leave
>Not five seconds pass before there comes a rapid scurrying
>”Hey, wait up!”
>Despite your better judgement, you relax your stride
>Before long she’s at your side again, as if it were any other day
>If it were any other day, you’d be asking if she needed more help with another paper, or, God forbid, make idle chatter with the miniature marshmallow about whatever bullshit shenanigans she and her retard three would be getting into
>”Soooo…”
>She tugs at your sleeve
>”Figure out yet?”
>You blink, open the door leading to the parking lot, and follow Sweetie out
>It takes you a moment to remember what she’s referencing: your last talk
>She’s curious about who you’re asking to prom for some reason
>You roll your eyes
“Yeah, sure.”
>She doesn’t seem all too convinced by that and says as much
>You wave her off as you make way for your car
“What do you mean I’m being sarcastic? I would never lie to a little cherub like you.”
>The tone and look you use gives her cause to playfully beat at you
>”C’mon, tell me, tell me, tell me!”
>You wave her off for a moment to enter your car
>Her head is there, front and center, as the window slowly rolls down
>Her smile is laced with curiosity
>”Don’tcha trust me, Anon?”
>She leans on the window frame, an innocent smile on her face all the while
>”Please? Pinkie promise I won’t tell anyone!”
>Your only response is to smirk and put the key in the ignition
>Her face falls into one of faux annoyance, her tongue shooting out
>”You’re worse than Rarity, no fun at all.”
>That…
>That actually gets a snigger out of you
>This apparently was her goal, if her giggle and reappearing smile is anything to judge by
>”You comin’ to the volleyball game tonight? We’re gonna’ kick some tail!”
>Oh, right
>You nod and give her a thumbs up
>”Alrighty, see ya tonight!”
>She takes herself off the vehicle, gives you a wave, and walks off back towards the school, no doubt getting dressed out for practice
>You, in turn, sigh and turn on the radio
>Just as you make to pull out of the parking lot, though, you catch sight of her
>And she catches sight of you
>Twist, with eyes widening and smile growing, jumps up and down as she gives you one of the most enthusiastic waves you’ve ever received
>You swallow hard and pretend not to see her
>The unsettling feeling in your stomach only grows as you realize something terrible
>She’s on the volleyball team as well as Sweetie
>She also thinks she’s the reason you come to said games
>...Fuck
>...
>......
>You are Anonymous Unknown, and currently you’re busy picking out a seat for the volleyball game
>Several hours have passed since your last meeting with Sweetie Belle and, sure as shit, you made sure to show
>Scouting the bleachers for anyone interesting, you soon land eyes on the only other senior who frequents these games
>”Hey, look who finally decided to show!” says Rainbow Dash with a wave and a pat to the open seat beside her
>You take the proffered seat, offer her a high five, and sigh
“Sorry I’m late, traffic was shit, I had to finish the science paper, and—”
>”Wait, crap, that’s due tomorrow?!” she blurts out, eyes now wide
>You stare at her for a moment, trying to discern if she’s just pulling your leg again…
>Nope, that’s genuine fear in them eyes
>Dash is quick to recover, however, and drapes an arm over your shoulder, a cocky smile now on her face
>”I mean, of course it’s tomorrow, I was just testin’ ya,” she says while dusting her knuckles off on her shirt
>”But, say, don’t you happen to have an A in that class?”
>You raise a brow
“Don’t you have a D in science?”
>”...Maybe.”
>Before you’re able to berate or tease her, there comes the shrill scream of the referee’s whistle
>Huh, game’s starting
>”Uh, talk later… but seriously, help a wondercolt out would ya?”
>With that she removes her arm and the two of you direct your attention to the court
>As expected, Sweetie Belle and her retard three are on the bench for the first round, being freshmen in a varsity team and all that
>But sitting beside them is, as per usual, Twist
>Apparently she was waiting for you to look this way, because she shoots you another giant wave with a smile that’s just as big
>Gulping, you return the gestures with considerably less gusto
>”Gettin’ popular, eh?” says Dash as she elbows you playfully in the side
>You shoot her a glare
“Want help with that paper or not?”
>She raises two hands in a placating fashion, shit-eating smile still on her face
>”Just a prank, bro.”
>You grumble something unpleasant and turn your attention back to the court
>Before long it’s getting heated, the both of you forgetting about her jape as several clutch dives and spikes are had by both sides
>Both of you are cheering and clapping your hearts out no more than ten minutes into the game, just like every other game of the season
>Hey, girls volleyball is a lot more exciting than people give it credit for
>One day you would thank Dash for encouraging you to come out to these games and cheer the team on
>One day...
>The competition rages on
>Just as the mid game begins to set in as the score rises constantly for both sides, however, there comes a time out
>Aria Blaze, one of the three seniors on the varsity team, apparently fucked up her knee something fierce while going for large dive
>After you get over your initial worry for the classmate and friend, you realize something
>They’re changing out players
>You look to Dash
>She looks at you
>You both look back to the benches where Sweetie Belle and her retard three are sat...
>You slap your knee and curse silently as Dash jumps up with a cheer
>”Oh yeah, Scoots, you got this!”
>After a moment of cursing about how Sweetie hasn’t got to play all season, you cheer with Dash and encourage the athletic freshman
>Said freshman’s smile, even from a distance, shines bright
>And for good reason too
>It’s pretty fucking rare that they actually swap in the freshmen
>The game resumes shortly
>And, just like every other game that’s neck and neck, the cheering is a constant
>The scores rise evenly, the girls from Crystal Prep giving as good as they’re getting
>Every spike is returned in kind
>Every moment is either filled with a pervasive worry or a full-belly cheer
>But, just like every other game, this one must come to an end
>There’s a final buzz from the speaker system
>You look up to the score one last time, and give a sad smile as the opposite set of bleachers gives way to mad cheering
>Just by the skin of their teeth
>It was a pretty fucking exciting game to watch either way, so you’re not complaining
>Dash, on the other hand...
>You nod at her expected complaining as you both make to stand
>”This close, Anon, THIS close!”
>The two of you begin to make your way to the court, of which is now filled with the congratulating friends and families of the players
>”I mean, not saying I’m better than Aria, but… wait, who am I kidding? Of course I’m better! I totally could’ve kept going!”
>She slaps your shoulder
>”You remember when I got a concussion and kept going until the end of the game last year? If I could handle a hit to the noggin, she could totally handle a little—”
>”Anon!”
>You freeze at the familiar voice
>A moment later you’re pulled into a hug by a lithe pair of arms, a head burying itself in your chest
>Your eyes flicker down to the head of light scarlet hair that tickles your chin
“Uh, hey, Twist!”
>You gently pat her back and look to Dash for help
>Twist is usually never this… eager
>All Dash can offer is a shit-eating smile
>Et tu, Dash?
>”I hope thew had asth mutch fun asth we had, Anon, it wasth a blast!”
>You nod, grateful that she’s pulled back from the hug
>”I know I didn’th get mutch time, or any,” she says with a quick snort of laughter, “but I’m sthill glad you came.”
>You hesitate for a moment before putting on a smile and giving her shoulder a comforting squeeze
“Glad I came!”
>You then move to Dash’s side, somewhat eager to remove yourself from the situation
>Much to your annoyance, though as to be expected, Twist remains at your side
>You lean into Dash
“Way to help a wondercolt out, shithead.”
>”Oh, c’mon, you looked happy enough,” she says with a laugh
>You scoff
“Think I’ve never had a girlfriend before? Acting’s easy.”
>Her laughter stops, her eyes slightly slowly dropping to the ground
>”Oh.”
>You both walk in silence up until the familiar sight of Marshmallow Mcgee and her retard three, Scootaloo, Apple Bloom, and Babs Seed, come into view
>Scootaloo’s face lights up like a Christmas tree upon seeing Dash
>It’s actually kind of heartwarming to see little Scoots hop into Dash’s arms, the later twirling around and giving the underclassman a noogie
>”Aw man, Anon, did’ja see Scoots?!”
>You look down to see a familiar pair of green eyes looking up at you
>You return the smile
>”She was all like, ‘Aww, I got this!’ Kapow, boom, spike!” Sweetie Belle says between animated pantomimes, acting as if she’s spiking the ball or making dives
>You share a laugh at her antics and begin to talk in earnest about the game
>Or, well, you attempt to talk about the game before Sweetie gives you a sudden fluttering of the eyelashes
>”Sooooo, gonna’ tell me now?”
>...Oh, for fuck’s sake
>”Oooo, a sthecret?” says a voice that almost makes you jump
>You forgot that Twist was following at your side, and so you look to her with a concerned eye
>Sweetie looks to her with a smile, leans in, and whispers something
>Twist’s eyes go wide as her freckled cheeks redden
>”So, Anon, you gonna’ tell us?” Sweetie says with another innocent smile
>Your brows furrow as your eyes flicker between the two freshmen
>Sweetie Belle, as per usual, is playful and genuinely interested, herself completely calm and in her element
>Twist, on the other hand, looks nervous as all hell, no doubt wondering if you got her letter that she slid into your locker
>Normally whenever you’re placed in a situation that requires you to be a dick, you do so without hesitation, often times with a smile
>But as you look at Twist, you don’t see someone who deserves it
>You see that nervous girl who just happened to share the same homeroom as you on that fateful day
>You see the friendless little nobody that slowly warmed up to you with tales of woe and social anxiety
>You see the freshman whose grades improved as your relationship deepened to the point where you tried to act as a sort of pseudo-brother in face of her abysmal family life
>You smile in face of it all, a chuckle escaping your throat as you wave them off
“Don’t worry about it, I’m sure you’ll hear about it sooner or later.”
>You don’t care to see the look on either of their faces, instead turning to Dash
“Hey, I’m going to dip, was fun and all but—”
>She turns with wide eyes, as if remembering something, and grabs you by the arm
>”Not so fast, buster, you’re coming with me!”
>You would offer protest, but she tugs you towards the exit with considerable, unexpected force
>She offers her goodbyes to the team in the form of a quick wave and a hollered “Bye!”
>You, however, can only share a confused look with the gaggle of freshmen before being dragged off
>But as you turn back to look at Dash, Twist’s look of intense fear and clarity flashes through your mind
>Wait, she doesn’t think…
>”C’mon, pick up your feet!” says Dash with another forceful tug to your arm
>You do as told
>”Dash ain’t flunking no classes, no sir,” she says with a finger raised high, “momma didn’t raise no flunker!”
>You frown, thankful but slightly annoyed
“Really? Don’t you have anyone else to help you out?”
>She leads you outside, the two of you making way for the parking lot under the night’s dim sky
>”Twiggy kinda said she’s going to start charging me whenever I pulled something last minute like this,” she says with a casual twirl of the hand
>That’s… actually pretty damn smart
“And what do I get outta’ this?”
>She stops, clicks her tongue, and thinks for a moment
>”Peetzer?”
>You give her a flat look, idly glancing at your watch
>Getting kinda late—
>”I’ll try and hook you up with Rarity for prom?”
>You blink, eyes now slightly widened at the proposition
>”Oh yeah, that got your attention now didn’t it?” Dash says with a laugh and a punch to your shoulder
>You can only clear your throat in response, a curt nod leaving you shortly after
>”My man!”
>She tells you to just follow her car back to her place, and so you obey
>Just as you pull up to her place, though, a thought comes to your mind
>How did she know you liked Rarity?
>For some reason you never find time to ask her that night
>Instead you’re left with bigger questions as you peer over Dash’s shoulder as she makes slow progress on the paper
>Some questions are simple, like why she’s forgetting simple commas and periods
>Others are more important, those being why she doesn’t even know what a carbon bond is
>Time passes painfully slow as you help her along
>Three hours pass, of which felt like much longer, and the majority of the paper is done…
>Or, well, it would have been if Dash didn’t look up to you with an unsettling smile
>”Uh, hey, Anon, we didn’t need any in-text citations, right?”
>The rest of the night is a blur of coffee, proofreading, and half-burnt pizza
>...
>......
>You groan, slowly opening a bleary eye to look up at whoever it was that would interrupt your nap
>”Hiy’a, Anon!”
>The familiar freshman pulls back slightly when she meets your gaze, the sleep-deprivation no doubt showing
>”Uh, rough night?” Sweetie Belle asks before taking a seat besides you
>You and Anonymous, and you were just trying to take a quick nap during lunch
>You were trying to sleep in your next period’s class
>Seems a certain freshman doesn’t seem too keen on letting you be, however
“If only you knew.”
>She leans onto the table with a thoughtful hum
>”Hmm, so Dash is either really good in bed, or really, really bad… that’s all I’m hearing.”
“...”
>”...”
“...”
>Slowly, steadily, you sit up in your chair
>She’s still giving that innocent face in spite of your tired glare
>A moment later it’s blocked out by your letterman as you toss it over her head
>You’re too tired for this shit
>She giggles at this, gives out a, “Ooooo!” once she realizes what it is that you threw, and promptly slides the thing on
>You glance at your watch
>Class should be starting in a few, might as well wake up
>At least you got a little sleep, better than nothing
“Dash is just a friend, Sweetie.”
>You roll your shoulders, pop your back, and sigh
“She needed to rush a paper last minute and I just happened to be near.”
>”Mmmhmmm!” she says, thoroughly unconvinced
“I mean, you can go ask her if you want.”
>You turn to look at the freshman now clad in your letterman, the jacket comically oversized on her
>...She looks way too proud with that thing on
>You raise a brow at this and go to comment, but are interrupted as people begin to trickle into the classroom
>”Thanks, Anon, it’s always cold in Cranky’s room anyway!”
>And, with that, she skips away and makes for the door
>You’re half tempted to throw a pencil, or better yet a chair, at her, but the sight of the teacher entering the room prevents you from doing so
>She shoots you a wave as she skips away
>Your forehead smacks against the desk with an audible ‘Thunk!’
>If God were merciful he would give you an aneurysm
>The sleep deprivation, the history test that’s just about to be handed out, and the fact that you didn’t get any breakfast are really fucking with your mood
>But that’s not the worst part
>The worst part is the sinking feeling you get when thinking about how you’ve been avoiding Twist all day
>Well, that and how you didn’t respond to her text last night
>It still rings clear in your memory
>’Did you get the letter? <:D’
>...
>......
>You are Sweetie Belle
>You’re supposed to be paying attention to the lecture about SOHCAHTOA, or something like that
>But you’ve got more important things to worry about
>Namely this C O M F Y jacket you snagged
>Sure, Rarity gave you a really funny look when you said hi to her when wearing it, but you don’t care about that
>You care about this jacket
>It’s now yours
>...That’s how it goes, right?
>A girl wears a guys jacket and then it becomes hers?
>Yeah…
>Yeah!
>You take in the smell of the thing again, your smile growing
>Smells just like him
>Content for just a moment, you’re pulled back into reality all too soon as someone’s book clatters to the floor, the noise making your eyes go wide
>Oh, right, you’re still in class
>You ponder the idea of taking notes about what’s on the whiteboard, but, knowing Cranky, it’s all in the book
>...You’re probably still going to have to help Scootaloo with the homework though
>You glance around to your classmates
>Apple Bloom’s busy drawing a rather muscular body
>Scootaloo’s paying full attention to the lecture, her notebook lined with equations and the like
>Babs is staring out the window, a disinterested look on her face
>And Twist…
>Twist is busy staring at the name patch on your letterman