To Find a Rainbow

The next week passed in a blur of activity. Not to say that I was leading a particularly busy life as I actually only did anything a couple of nights during that time, but compared to the sedate pace I’d been living before, it was still a bit of an adjustment. Friday saw Rainbow, Scootaloo and I meeting back up at my cottage to finish the Daring Do movies, during which both Scootaloo remained awake and Rainbow remained sober. After they were over, we spent a few hours laughing and joking about how bad they were. While it was a ton of fun to watch them with the girls, I had to agree with Rainbow: the first one was the only good one. By the time we’d finished, it was nearly midnight and Scootaloo left for home. I hated letting her wander about town so late at night, but Ponyville was about as safe as they come. I knew she’d make it home just fine.

Rainbow, of course, stayed the night.

And also of course she was gone again in the morning. I’d expected it, though. Hazards of sleeping with someone who has to get up early for work and all.

I didn’t do much of anything until Wednesday besides dropping off a few rolls of film to Shutterbug’s. She was a kindly middle-aged pegasus mare that owned the only photo gallery in town. She had a son that I hazarded to guess was around Scootaloo’s age –though I never asked to confirm– named Featherweight, who was kind enough to always get my photos developed fast. He was a nice kid, if a little on the dorky side, and I liked to stop and chat with him for a bit whenever I went in.

Wednesday afternoon saw us all back in the park again for another flight practice. It went much the same as last time, though I decided to take a few more pictures anyway, just because. It took some coaxing, but Rainbow and I managed to convince Scootaloo to let me take a picture of the three of us together. It came out really well despite Scootaloo claiming to look awful –I really have no idea what she was talking about; she looked amazing– and I couldn’t wait to add it to my scrapbook.

Rainbow came over a couple other times during the week. When she was free, at least. We would laugh and joke and banter before making dinner and, after realizing neither of us could cook very well, ended up ordering pizza. As the night drew on, one of us would eventually start snuggling closer to the other and before we knew it we were in the bedroom again and the rest of the night was lost to a haze of passion and lust.

While I knew that sex alone wasn’t exactly what I was looking for I still loved every night we spent together. In the months before Rainbow and I decided to change our relationship, I hadn’t realized how… isolated I felt. Even though I had several really great friends in Rarity, Carrot Top and, most of all, Rainbow, being the only human in the world left me completely separated from everything around me. I was so alone, but I guess the feeling just got lost in the midst of everything else I was dealing with after losing the only home I’d ever known.

But now… I felt wanted again. Just knowing that there was even a single pony out there that could see past how I looked, at how different I was… It made the world a tiny bit less cold. Just having Rainbow at my side made even the uncertain prospect of dating seem just that little bit more doable.

And so it was that during the time I wasn’t at work or hanging out with Rainbow and Scootaloo that I started looking around town for things to do. If I was going to meet new ponies, the only thing to do was get out more. Ponyville may not have the multitude of prospects that a larger city might have, but there were more than a couple of nice hang-outs. Sugarcube Corner had a regular string of parties being held thanks to Pinkie Pie, the park often held impromptu concerts from the few musicians that lived in town, and there was even a small bar on the outskirts ran by a one Berry Punch, a mulberry earth pony mare that I’d seen around town a few times but had never gotten the chance to meet. If bars in Equestria were anything like the ones back home, I didn’t have high hopes of meeting the type of pony I’d be interested in there, but it couldn’t hurt to check it out, either.

If nothing else, it would give me something to do when Rainbow and Scootaloo were busy.

But that was something for another time, as it was Thursday afternoon: the day I’d promised I’d watch Scootaloo show me what she can do on her scooter. I had just gotten off work at Carrot Top’s and after heading home long enough to take a quick shower, I grabbed my camera case and made a detour to Shutterbug’s to see if my photos were finished. Luckily they had been, and once I’d given my thanks to Featherweight, I set course for Scootaloo’s.

Her house wasn’t a lot different from my own cottage, built with the same beige walls and thatched roofing, though it was a little bigger to account for more residents inside. I had been surprised to find that houses in Equestria are designed for ease of renovation, allowing new additions or even relocation to be done with a minimum of fuss or complication. So easy, in fact, that if I ever wanted for some reason, I could literally hire a team of ponies to drag my home to the other side of Ponyville.

I was also glad that Scootaloo lived in a groundside cottage instead of a cloudhouse like Rainbow. It wasn’t too odd, I suppose, considering Rainbow’s about the only pegasus in town with one. It certainly made visiting her about a million times harder than necessary. I would love to get the chance to see inside Rainbow’s place, but I would have to get a unicorn to cast a cloud-walking spell on me or something and pray it didn’t decide to fail since I’m not a pony. Having the spell just completely not work, or even worse, give out half-way would be exactly my luck. And even if it did work, Rainbow would still have to fly me up there, and while she’s incredibly strong for her size, she’s still about half my body weight. I don’t exactly want to test how much she can handle while flying.

I let myself through the gate in the white picket fence out front and followed the dirt pathway to the door. Following an odd occurrence I’d noted about Ponyville, the door came just shy of being able to accommodate my height, and I’d only need to bow my head slightly to get through. Why ponies needed such high ceilings I’d never understand, but I wasn’t about to complain. Having to constantly duck anytime I went into a building would be a pain in the back, quite literally.

I knocked and had to wait only a few moments before heavy hoofsteps sounded on the other side. The door opened to reveal an earth pony stallion with a slate-grey coat and a dark purple mane. He had slight bags under his eyes, giving him a somewhat tired look that did nothing to detract from the measured stare he gave me. His cutie mark was a small flaming wheel.

Even through the hard look as he sized me up, I noticed his eyes were a very familiar shade of purple.

To his credit, he didn’t so much as flinch when he saw me. I only make that distinction since a lot of ponies do the first time. Scootaloo had probably given him a heads up that I was coming over.

“Uh… Hi. I take it you’re Scootaloo’s dad?” I asked. I was struck with the sudden realization that I didn’t even know his name.

From the look he was giving me, I felt like I was a teenager visiting a girl’s house for the first time all over again.

“My name’s Mr. Trick. You must be the Will I’ve heard so much about,” he drawled in a flat, bored tone.

“I am, though I hope you haven’t heard too much. I’d hate to not live up to it all,” I said, chuckling at my own joke. Awkwardly, I suppose, as he didn’t join in.

“Who said any of what I heard was good?” he asked.

At that I probably should have let the issue drop. I think I’m socially conscious enough to know he didn’t like me and pushing the issue any further would just be likely to upset him.

But…

“Well, I doubt Scootaloo would have invited me over if she were going around talking bad about me.”

Maybe I still need some work on letting things slide.

He huffed. “Maybe she just wanted to spare your feelings.”

My hands clenched but I tried to ignore them. “Nah, Scootaloo’s not the sort of pony to lie. As her father, I would think you’d know that.”

He took a sudden step forward, narrowing his eyes at me. “Excuse me?!”

Before I had any chance to decide whether to say something or prepare to defend myself, the sound of hooves came again. Scootaloo rounded the corner into the living room, already speaking.

“Daddy, was that the door…? Will!” she shouted, spotting me. She barreled past her dad, and I couldn’t help but smile a little when he stumbled. She reared up onto her hindlegs, using her wings for balance as she offered me her hoof, which I bumped with a fist. When she settled back down, she turned to her dad, who was trying and failing to look like we hadn’t just butted heads.

“Dad, this is my friend Will. Will, this is my dad, Flip Trick,” she said. She looked excitedly between us, obviously expecting some kind of greeting. I couldn’t bring myself to disappoint her. With more than a smidgeon of reluctance, I offered a fist to him and after a moment’s hesitation, he returned the gesture.

“Anyway, I was going to show him some tricks on my scooter. We’ll be in the backyard!” she said.

With that, she bit down on my jeans and began dragging me through her house; thankfully I remembered to duck at the last moment before my head collided with the doorframe. I was almost surprised that Scootaloo’s dad didn’t try to deny me entrance after our little back and forth, but I guess he didn’t want to make a scene in front of his daughter.

I didn’t get much chance to look at their house as she led me through the living room and kitchen to their backyard. What I did get to see had the piecemeal design that looked like they had bought everything from a thrift store. None of the furniture or décor matched –what little of it existed, at least; their home was surprisingly Spartan– and it all looked rather old and shabby. Not to say the place looked unpleasant, it was perhaps just a little rough around the edges. Likely the result of a single jerkass father and a notorious tomboy living together. I doubted either had any great love of interior decorating.

Eventually she led me out a sliding glass door into her back yard.

It was… even more impressive than she’d described. Behind her house might as well have been a legitimate skate park. Ramps, inclines, some with rails, some without; the only thing missing was a giant half-pipe. At least, I think that’s what that thing is called. I was far too uncoordinated to get into skating or anything when I was younger, though there had been a number of students into it all back in my high school. I’d never been good friends with any of them, but I still picked a few things up. Like ‘half-pipe’, or ‘ollie.’

I have no idea what an ‘ollie’ actually is, of course, but it had something to do with skateboarding.

I think.

I’m not old, I swear.

Similarly to how I knew little about extreme sports, I also knew very little about construction and for much the same reason. But even I could tell that all the fixtures Scootaloo was showing me were well-built, sturdy things seemingly hand—er… hoof-crafted from lumber and plywood and every one of them had stickers and paint covering every square inch of their surfaces. Even to someone who knew nothing about what he was seeing, I could tell hours of love and passion went into every single nail and staple.

“So, what do you think? Totally cool, right?” she chirped. Scootaloo was looking at me with those huge, sparkling purple eyes of hers, and I knew she was hanging on tenterhooks waiting for my response. She was clearly proud of it all.

“Yeah, this is pretty nuts! Did you make all these?” I asked, taking a closer look at the one closest to me. There were number of scuff marks across its surface, telling me that it saw a lot of use. There was a partially worn-away sticker clinging to life on the framework under a rail that I could just make out. A familiar flaming wheel sped across a logo saying ‘Flip’s Boards and Tricks.’ It looked like the brand image for a store or something.

Surprisingly, Scootaloo laughed. “No way! I’m useless at building stuff. No, my dad made all these.”

“Your dad, really?” I couldn’t bring myself to believe that. Old Mr. Fuddy-Duddy in there built these?

“Yup,” she said. She turned to look at each ramp in turn, smiling fondly. “He’s been working on them since before I was born. I helped on a few, though.” She trotted over to another nearby before hopping up onto a rail. She perched there, using her wings to help her balance. “Like this one. And also the wave ramp there in the back.”

“They look like skateboard ramps. Can you ride one of those? Actually, do ponies even have skateboards?” I asked.

She laughed again. “Of course we do! And I can a little, but I’ve never been as good on one as I am on my scooter. Speaking of!” She hopped off her perch with a flutter and zipped behind me. I followed her to see a blue four-wheeled scooter leaning against the house with a purple helmet hanging off its handlebar. She buckled it on before pushing her scooter forward.

“Good looking wheels, Scootaloo. You gonna show me what you can do?” I asked. She did a little hop and pumped a forehoof.

“Hay yeah!” she cheered.

Rather than just take off like I’d expected, she grabbed the handlebars of her scooter in the crook of her forehooves and took to the air with a few heavy flaps of her wings. She fluttered up to the top of… not a half-pipe but a quarter-pipe, maybe? It was half a half-pipe, anyway.

She settled herself on the lip of the curved ramp with all but the tail end of her scooter hanging off in the air. All her weight rested on a single hindhoof while her forehooves tested her grip on the handlebars. Her wings spread wide for balance as her eyes stared down the drop before her.

“You ready to see something awesome?” she called out.

I had just about enough time to start getting my camera out of its case when she leaned forward and fell.

She plummeted downward, her scooter’s wheels clacking uproariously against the wood as she careened directly for another incline. At its peak, she caught enough air to completely clear its flat top and went down the other side. No sooner had she landed it seemed that she was tearing up another, launching into the air again, this time long enough to kick either hindleg out to the side, leaving her clinging to the handlebars and nothing more.

The next second, she was flying around what she’d called the wave ramp before. It was sort of like a quarter of a circular swimming pool. She sped straight up one side, spinning the deck of the scooter around its handle three whole times before landing on the ramp again and speeding away like she hadn’t just done something completely amazing.

I could barely keep up with her. She zipped around the small park so fast she was little more than an orange blur, shooting into the air one moment and slamming back down a half-second later. Her scooter spun, flipped and snapped in a million different directions with such crisp control it looked more like an extra limb than a separate thing.

She had more grace in her every movement while hurtling through the air at who-knows-how-many miles per hour than I will ever manage just walking.

I was reminded of the first time I saw Rainbow fly on that afternoon when we’d met. That burning determination, the joy… the lust for what they were doing… There was something about watching someone who, while not necessarily a master, was so incredibly passionate about what they were doing that they were putting every ounce of their heart and soul into it.

It’s humbling. And awe-inspiring. For a brief moment, I wondered what in the hell I was doing with my life when there were such talented, larger-than-life people out there. The stories my piddly little photos told paled in comparison to the tale Scootaloo was weaving before my eyes.

Hell, I felt her excitement so acutely I wanted to get out there on a skateboard and join her, and I hate everything that requires me to have more coordination than a three-legged newborn giraffe!

In the rush, I almost forgot to actually get any pictures.

Almost.

I was already prepared to believe that Scootaloo was the Rainbow Dash of scooter…-ing as she managed to grind a ten-foot rail on only her rear axle backwards but she decided that just wasn’t good enough. She landed off the rail still going in reverse, and with only a pump from her hindlegs, she hopped into the air and spun herself around so that she was rolling forward again and aimed herself back towards the quarter-pipe thing she started on. Pushing herself with a combination of her hindlegs and wings, she sped forward faster than ever, sending her straight to the top, which was almost twice my height.

Rather than do a flip or two and let gravity take its toll, she instead planted a forehoof at the lip of the wall and let her momentum carry the scooter up and over her head. She perched there, upside down and balancing only on a single hoof. For nearly ten seconds she remained unmoving before finally giving in to gravity and falling, twisting herself around so that she and her scooter both landed back on top of the ramp right where she started.

She stepped off her scooter, steadying herself as she gazed out upon her dad’s little park. For a moment she must have forgotten I was there as she reveled in her accomplishment until her eyes fell on me and she blushed, grinning embarrassedly.

“Well, uh… What’d you think?” she asked.

“Holy shit, Scootaloo! That was so cool!” I shouted. I sprinted across the yard towards her, nearly dropping my camera in my haste. By the time I reached her, she had laid down with just her face and forehooves visible over the structure’s lip. She was beaming even as she panted and the sweat dripped down her muzzle.

“You really think so?” she asked.

“Hell yeah! The way you flipped the board around on that one trick and then whoosh! you did that Superman thing!” I continued to babble, using my hands to try to illustrate what I didn’t have the words for.

I realized after a few minutes that I was acting like Pinkie Pie on three cups of coffee and a sugar rush and cut off my rambling. At Scootaloo’s amused giggle, I felt my cheeks heat up.

“Was I really that good?” she asked. Her words were quiet and reserved as she stared at her hooves, refusing to meet my gaze.

“As good as Rainbow is at flying.”

For a split-second, her eyes flicked to mine before a crimson blush bloomed across her cheeks. She sputtered and stammered, unable to formulate a response as the moments dragged on silently. Eventually she swallowed, looking at her hooves again as she mumbled, “Thanks…”

“You’re very welcome, Scootaloo. That was really something to see.”

She smiled and opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by a sound behind us. We turned to see her dad leaning out the kitchen door.

“Scoots, supper’s about ready. Why don’t you go get cleaned up. Your… friend can join us, if he wants,” he called. To my surprise, he managed to sound mostly civil besides the slight stumble. He was probably just trying to be nice in front of his daughter, but I could play along if he could.

Besides, I’m always up for free food.

“Well, if you’re offering,” I said. He nodded and wordlessly disappeared back inside.

“Cool. Come on, let’s go. I’m starving,” Scootaloo said.

She fluttered down with her scooter and began rolling towards the house. She must have worn herself out, as she was stumbling along more slowly and with less coordination than usual. She dropped her scooter and helmet back by the door before letting us both inside.

As I closed the door behind us, Mr. Trick was standing by the stove, stirring a steaming pot of something that smelled surprisingly delicious with a wooden spoon held between his teeth. Next to him, another pot had boiling fettuccini noodles in it. Scootaloo stopped to sniff the air and sigh contentedly before twitching her wings and rolling her shoulders.

“Okay, I need to take a shower real quick.” She turned to me, and in a far-too-casual voice asked, “Will, wanna join me?”

“I–uh… what?”

She frowned in confusion. “A shower. Would you like to take one with me?” she asked slowly, like she was talking to a particularly dense child.

Now, I wouldn’t have put it past Rainbow to try to say something like that to me a few weeks ago as a prank, but Scootaloo hadn’t struck me as the type to joke about that sort of thing. That combined with the completely honest expression of confusion on her face and in her voice led me to believe she was being serious.

My only question was ‘why?’ Why did she think asking me to take a shower with her was a good idea? Why did she even want me there?

Wait. Did she like me? No, that couldn’t be it. There would be blushing, stammering, hesitation; something. She was too calm, too collected. Besides, me of all people? Yeah, right.

Was that just a normal pony thing, then? Ponies do all kinds of things that don’t quite make sense to me. Like the ritual the Apples go through to make their Zap Apples grow. Or the ‘herd’ thing that Rainbow had told me those three pegasi whose names I couldn’t remember were in. Was bathing together something they just did?

But Rainbow had never asked me that before, and we were way closer than Scootaloo and I were. Though Rainbow and I had had more than a few conversations over the months about how humans and ponies were different. Maybe she’d never asked because she figured it would make me uncomfortable?

Ah, yeah! We’d talked several times about how I didn’t like being unclothed around others. She understood; something that couldn’t be said for Scootaloo. We’d never had that conversation before. That had to be it.

I was thinking too much about it anyway. After all, Scootaloo was standing there waiting for an answer so that she could get ready for dinner. The dinner her father was making…

The room’s temperature seemed to jump up ten degrees, leaving me sweating as I hazarded a glance at Scootaloo’s father, standing not even ten feet away. Rather than looking utterly pissed like I’d feared, he was only watching with mild interest out of the corner of his eye.

Did he not care, or was he just so furious that he couldn’t express it? The former would go along with my guess about it being a cultural thing, but the latter was much more in line with how my luck ran. In the end, I decided to play it safe.

“I-I, uh… No, I t-think I’m good, Scootaloo. Had one right before I came over. Thanks anyway,” I managed to mumble, my voice sounding a little high-pitched even to me.

Scootaloo looked at me, her frown deepening, but thankfully she shrugged and turned away, giving me a chance to let out a relieved sigh. “Dad? You wanna join me?”

Mr. Trick dropped his spoon to answer. “I gotta keep stirring the alfredo sauce or it’ll burn. You go on ahead, I’ll take one later.”

Scootaloo huffed in mock irritation before trotting out of the room, leaving me alone with her dad. As if there wasn’t enough tension in the room already.

As I stood there, a heavy silence blanketing the kitchen, I pondered what to do. Mr. Trick had gone back to focusing on dinner and seemed content to ignore me. That was good, I guess; at least it was better than us sniping at each other. I could either just sit in silence until Scootaloo got back or I could make an effort to try to smooth things over. I didn’t have high hopes that it would work, but it was worth a shot, for Scootaloo’s sake if for nothing else.

And besides, I needed something to distract me from the mental image of Scootaloo showering.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I asked.

He didn’t answer long enough for me to start to think he was ignoring me until he pointed to the boiling pot next to him. “Can you drain those?” he asked around the spoon in his mouth.

I nodded, moving towards the sink I saw a strainer already sitting prepared. The pot thankfully had a pretty normal handle, though I couldn’t help but wince when I grabbed it and felt it was wet. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Non-unicorns have to manipulate almost everything with their mouths, so saliva gets on just about everything. Earth ponies have it the worst since they don’t have wings, either. I was mostly used to it after as much time around Carrot Top as I’d spent, but it still catches me off-guard every now and then, especially with ponies I’ve just met.

Mr. Trick didn’t seem to notice my discomfort as I drained the water from the pot and shook the noodles around in the strainer. “Do I need to rinse these?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Divvy it out onto the plates,” he said, pointing his hoof to a cupboard above his head.

I opened it to find plates and glasses. I grabbed three of both before doing as he said and dividing the noodles up. I left them on the counter as I took the glasses to the table. I also checked random drawers until I found the silverware and brought over some forks. They were the sort designed for non-unicorns with little Velcro straps on the base to fasten them around a hoof. I usually used the strapless unicorn utensils, but for one night it wouldn’t bother me.

By the time the table was made, Mr. Trick was already spreading sauce on each plate. When he was done, he sat the sauce pot aside and grabbed a plate between his teeth and brought it to the table. Realizing he could only get one at a time, I grabbed the other two and brought them over. He nodded to me as I sat them down.

“There’s a pitcher of sweet tea in the fridge. Mind getting it?” he asked. While I got it, he said, “There’s also water, if you prefer. May be some apple juice in there…”

“No, tea’s fine by me,” I said. I went ahead and poured some into our glasses as he took a seat at the head of the table. He’d set the other plates on either side of him and after a moment’s hesitation, I took the spot to his right.

I hesitated before starting in on my pasta, not wanting to begin eating without Scootaloo. Her dad seemed to have the same idea as he toyed idly with his fork.

“I’m sorry, by the way,” he suddenly said, not looking up. “For how I acted earlier. I may have been somewhat… confrontational.”

I certainly wasn’t expecting that. Silent disapproval or gradual acceptance maybe, but certainly not an apology.

“Well, I understand. You were just looking out for your little girl. I would’ve done the same, I think. If anything, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have risen to the bait.”

He actually cracked a grin and finally met my eye again. The expression was eerily similar to Scootaloo’s. She really was a dead ringer for him, minus the coat color. “Nah, I can’t hold that against ya. I’m not the type to let things slide either. Never have been. Used to get into a lot of stupid fights I didn’t need to for that exact reason when I was younger.” His smile faltered and he sighed. “You’re right, though. I’m just lookin’ out for my filly. She’s never brought a colt home before and… Well, you aren’t what I expected.”

“Yeah, I bet not… But look, Scootaloo and I… We aren’t—“

I didn’t get to finish my thought as hoofsteps came thundering up behind us and Scootaloo burst into the kitchen, her fur matted and still dripping in places as she rushed to her seat.

“Mmmm, I’m so hungry! I could smell it all the way upstairs and it was driving me nuts! Let’s eat!” she said. Without missing a beat, she grabbed her fork, fastened it in place and dug in. Mr. Trick and I couldn’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm before joining her in eating.

To my surprise, Mr. Trick’s fettuccini alfredo was every bit as delicious as it had smelled. I couldn’t cook to save my life, though I guess being a single parent gives you a good motivation to learn. Or maybe he just really liked cooking. Regardless, it was tasty enough that none of us felt like talking much until our plates were empty.

“That was great, Dad,” Scootaloo said, rubbing her full belly. She still had a smear of alfredo sauce on her muzzle, but it was too amusing to ruin by saying anything. Her dad must have agreed since he kept quiet, too.

“Yeah, thank you, Mr. Trick,” I said. “It was really good.”

Scootaloo snorted, hiding a smile behind her hoof. “Wow, Mr. Trick? Really?”

Even Mr. Trick looked uneasy. “Yeah, Flip will be fine. But thank you; it was pretty good, wasn’t it?”

He stood and started carrying the dirty plates to the counter and I got up to give him a hand. While we cleaned up, Scootaloo spotted my camera case next to my seat where I’d left it.

“Oh, Will! Did you get those pictures developed? The ones of me and Rainbow Dash?!”

“Pictures?” Flip asked.

“Scootaloo and Rainbow invited me to their last flight practice and I took a couple of shots. And yes,” I said, turning to Scootaloo, “I got them in there. I haven’t gotten to look through them yet, though.”

“Let’s go to my room! We can look at them there and I can show you some others of me and Rainbow Dash together!”

I felt like I shouldn’t go to her room. I mean, she was a lot younger than me, and while nothing was going to happen, it still seemed like a bad idea. Coming over to her house and meeting her dad might already look bad enough to someone who didn't know Scootaloo and I were just friends. Luckily, I had an excuse handy.

“What about the dishes? We should probably help out.”

“Nah, I got them,” Flip said. “You kids go have fun. I’ve got everything under control down here.”

I was a bit miffed about being called a kid, but the small smile on his face said it was probably in good fun. I was still wary about being alone with Scootaloo, but it looked like I had no choice. Besides, nothing inappropriate was going to happen. It was just two friends hanging out. And if her dad didn’t have a problem with it, then I guessed it was okay.

“Well, alright. If you’re sure…” I said.

“Sweet!” Scootaloo chirped, snatching up the strap of my camera case in her mouth. “C’mon!”

She turned and led me out of the kitchen and back into the living room. There was a hallway to our immediate right that I’d missed before on our quick journey through to the backyard that she turned down. We passed one door on our left and stopped at the second, directly across the hall from a third. She threw the door open and trotted inside. As I made to follow her through, a voice called out from the kitchen.

“You two make sure to leave that door open, you hear me?”

Scootaloo spluttered, dropping my camera case on the bed before rushing back into the hall.

“D-Dad! Shut up!” she shouted, stamping a hoof. She was blushing wildly as she stormed back inside to the sound of her dad’s faint laughter.

“I’m so sorry about him. I don’t know why he has to be so lame sometimes!”

I laughed awkwardly, trying to push down those feelings that I was doing something wrong while still finding Scootaloo’s misery pretty funny.

“Heh. I’m pretty sure it’s in the parent job description to be embarrassing,” I said.

“Yeah, I hear that,” she said, shaking her head. “He’s always doing stuff like that. Or calling me his ‘little featherbutt’ when Rainbow Dash or the girls are around. Or trying to talk all ‘mondo tubular’ like they did way back in his day in the Stone Age.”

“Come on, I’m sure it’s not so bad. Besides, ‘little featherbutt’ is an adorable name.”

She clapped both of her forehooves over her eyes and groaned. “Why did I tell you that?”

I plopped down on the floor next to her, leaning my back against her bed as I tapped a fist against her shoulder. “You must love being teased, I guess, ‘cuz I’m never letting you forget this one.”

“Of course you aren’t. Rainbow Dash isn’t either. I must be a glutton for punishment or something,” she said before sighing. “Alright, have we humiliated me enough for one night? Can we get to the pictures now?”

“Aww, no fun. But fine, I’ll spare you this time,” I said. I reached behind me to grab my camera case off the bed while she settled onto her haunches next to me.

For the first time since coming in, I got a chance to actually take in her bedroom. It was… a lot like a train had run through it. A stack of books sat next to a cluttered nightstand, all Daring Do from what I could see. A couple skateboards in various states of disrepair sat in a corner along with a few spare parts and tools scattered about.

Every square inch of the walls were plastered with all kinds of things. Wonderbolt posters; pictures of herself, Rainbow Dash and her two friends, Sweetie Belle and Applebloom; posters of what I assumed were rock bands; even a life-sized image of a yellow pegasus mare with a mane that looked like living fire on the wall above her bed. She wore a Wonderbolt uniform but had the hood down and her goggles around her neck, baring a cocky grin.

A wing nudged my side, pulling me out of my thoughts. I took the envelope of photos out and handed it to Scootaloo. While she dumped the pictures out before us, I tossed the case aside.

In Equestria, photos are printed on much thicker stock than on Earth. It makes sense with ponies having to use their hooves or mouth to hold them; they need to be more durable. Scootaloo began sifting through them, occasionally dragging one out and commenting on it. She was generally pretty happy with all of them, agreeing that she and Rainbow looked pretty cool together. All except for one, that is, in which I’d somehow managed to catch only their butts in frame while they were on the ground stretching. She laughed and punched my shoulder for that one.

I honestly have no idea how it possibly could have happened.

She tossed the picture aside and smirked. “You’re definitely a colt, alright.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” I asked with mock indignation.

She shrugged her wings, looking aside as she looked for the words. When she spoke, her words came out low and slow. “When Rainbow first told me about you, she said that even though you looked really different, you were a lot like a pony. Like, in the way you acted and stuff. And I kinda saw that when we were watching Daring Do at your house, but… I guess it’s nice to get a reminder that you aren’t really so different, you know? Like, that’s something any colt in my class would do if they had the chance. If any of that makes any sense.”

“So, you’re happy that I took the chance to do something really immature?” I asked, grinning at her. She was not as amused by my joke as I was, so I waved off her glare. “No, I think I get what you mean.” I sighed and leaned back to get more comfortable. “I remember when I first got here, I was really worried about fitting in. Everything was so different from what I was used to; I was the only human in the entire world… I thought I was never going to fit in. But thanks to ponies like Pr– I mean, Twilight and Rainbow, it got easier. After I got used to the physical differences, I found that being around them felt just like being around any human.”

“That must’ve been pretty rough,” she said. She leaned against my side and after a moment’s hesitation wrapped her wing around my back. “I woulda been terrified if I was all alone in some weird place like that. I don’t think I would have kept it together as well as you have.”

“Well, I didn’t always have it together. I had more than a few long nights in the first couple of weeks. It took a little while to sink in. It got easier over time, though.”

“But you still miss home, don’t you?” she asked. There was the faintest hint of something like accusation in her tone and a sudden pang of guilt left me unable to meet her gaze. Her wing gave me a squeeze. “I noticed you didn’t answer when Rainbow Dash asked about your sister last week at lunch.”

“I haven’t given up,” I said. “I promise I haven’t. It’s just… hard. It hurts to think about her. About any of my family.”

“But sometimes the things we need to do most aren’t the easiest,” she said. “Do you really want to keep living pretending that they don’t exist?”

Something about the way she said it got under my skin. Like she was implying that I hadn’t even tried. Like I was just taking the coward’s way out when it was so easy to do the right thing, whatever that was. “Why do you even care, anyway?” I snapped.

She flinched at my outburst, but to her credit she didn’t move from my side or take her wing off my back. “Because I know what it’s like to not talk about something that’s really bothering you. Keeping things bottled up like that isn’t good for you, and I know you aren’t talking about it with Rainbow Dash. She didn’t even know you had a sister. You don’t have to talk about it with me, but you should with somepony. You’ll feel better after; I know it.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to her. If I had to be honest with myself, I knew deep down that she was right. Keeping it all to myself… wasn’t getting me anywhere. If I was going to be stuck in Equestria forever, never to see my family again, did I really want to never be able to think about them, either? Being able to share my memories of them with Rainbow and Scootaloo did sound nice, but…

It just wasn't that simple.

And so I sat in silence, unsure of what I wanted and no words coming to mind to break the sudden awkwardness between us. After a while, Scootaloo sighed.

“Did Rainbow ever tell you that I used to have a lot of trouble flying?”

I was glad for the change in topic and nodded my head. “She told me once you were a bit of a late bloomer, but not much more than that.”

She gave a sad laugh. “’Late bloomer’ is putting it nicely. I could barely even flutter off the ground until she started teaching me when I was twelve. Most foals are flying solo by the time they’re nine. So I was more than a little late. But even then I was always a really weak flier, even though my wings were pretty strong from riding on my scooter. Nopony knows why. Maybe my pegasus magic is just bad or something.”

It was my turn to return her gesture and I laid an arm across her withers. “It’s okay. I’ve gotten a lot better since then thanks to all the help Rainbow Dash’s given me and… sure, I’ll never be a Wonderbolt, but I can at least get around. I could fly myself to Canterlot or Cloudsdale if I ever needed to so I’ve got more than I’ll ever really need.

“But back then? I got pretty discouraged really often. I just felt like I was a failure, you know? Like, I didn’t have the strength of an earth pony, I couldn’t use magic like a unicorn, and the only thing I did have: my wings? They were practically useless. There were a lot of times it got pretty hard… I felt like I was nothing.”

“Did you ever tell somepony? About how you felt?” I asked, already kind of knowing the answer.

She shook her head. “Not at first. I was too ashamed, I guess… I didn’t want anypony to know how much trouble I was having, let alone how much it bothered me.

“I remember one night a few weeks before my twelfth birthday. Rainbow Dash and I had been working all day on take-offs. You see, at the time, I could only hover if she helped me get in the air. And after weeks of practice, we’d gotten nowhere. So she decided to take an entire day just for the two of us to work on everything: wing positions, running tips, strength-building exercises; we did it all.

“But as the day went on, I started getting the feeling that Rainbow Dash was getting impatient with me. Frustrated at how I wasn’t improving. Feeling like she was wasting her time with a hopeless case like me…”

Her voice faltered at the end, and she stopped to sniff and rub a hoof roughly across her eyes. “By the time Rainbow Dash called it quits for the day, I hadn’t improved at all. I’d never been so embarrassed. Not even the time Diamond Tiara lied and told our class that I had a crush on Rumble,” she said, trying and failing to give a chuckle.

I ran my fingers through her short coat as I considered what she’d told me because something didn’t seem right. But after she had opened up so much to me, I was afraid of ruining it by doubting her, so I tried to think of the most diplomatic way to voice my thoughts.

“I… haven’t known Rainbow for very long, but that doesn’t exactly sound like her. She may not be the most patient pony ever, but I can’t see her never wanting to see you again just because you were having some trouble.”

Scootaloo managed a much more genuine laugh at that, even looking up at me with a small smile. “That’s exactly what Dad said after I got home. I’d tried to lock myself in my room, but of course he was all ‘scared’ and ‘concerned’ about me. Who does he think he is, my dad?” she said, laughing again and more loudly this time. “After I told him what happened, he basically ordered me to go talk to Rainbow Dash and tell her how I felt. Told me that it was just a misunderstanding and that there’s no way she would ever think that about me and stuff. I wanted to believe him, but… I was still pretty scared.”

“That you were right? You couldn’t really have believed she’d be like that to you of all ponies, did you?” I asked.

“I was eleven! I had no self-confidence and I couldn’t understand for the life of me why a pony as cool as Rainbow Dash would ever want to hang out with me, let alone actually care about me. But it wasn’t just that I was scared that I might be right. I was also pretty scared that I was wrong.”

She read my unasked question and sighed. “Hearing Dad talk about Rainbow Dash made me realize I was being stupid. She's way too cool for that, but I’d thought the worst of her. She may not have known what I was thinking, but that didn’t change that I had. She deserved better.”

“I’m assuming she forgave you, though. You did talk to her, right?” I asked.

“Yeah, of course she did. We had a big, long talk the next day. About how she thought it was completely understandable that I was feeling discouraged, and how she didn’t hate me or think I was a disappointment or anything. In fact, she said she was proud of how hard I worked despite the fact it wasn’t easy. She said that my not giving up was what made her want to stick around all day to teach me. If some little filly was willing to put in whatever effort was needed, then she certainly could, too.”

She paused, taking another breath and exhaling slowly, like she was letting out all the stress and anguish she had gone through back then. “She forgave me for not trusting her, too. Even that she didn’t blame me, since she knew she could be pretty impatient at times. She’s always been cool like that; forgiving others even when they hurt her. Now that I think about it, it was the first time we’d hung out just for the two of us. Just to spend time together, you know? We started our Friday sister nights after that.”

“Sounds like everything worked out pretty well, then,” I said. She nodded.

“Yeah, it really did. It got better after that. It still took a lot of work to get to where I should have been with my flying, but having Rainbow Dash and Dad understanding at least made me feel a lot better. She really went out of her way to make sure I wasn’t being too hard on myself when things weren’t working out,” she said. She paused to look at the pile of skateboard parts and smiled fondly. “Dad couldn’t help much with my flying, but he started teaching me more about skating. Making and fixing boards, tricks; you name it.”

“You learned all that stuff from him?” I asked, amazed. The last thing I think of when I looked at her dad was skateboarder, but I guessed it would explain his cutie mark.

“Not all of it, but most. I made up a few things myself, too. But yeah, he used to ride a lot back before I was born. He was a professional; went to all kinds of tournaments and stuff. He was pretty well known, too, but he had to give it up to take care of me. He still owns a skateboard production company: Flip’s Boards and Tricks. Nopony makes better boards than my dad! Though he mostly just does the new designs nowadays. He has other ponies to handle most of the actual business stuff.”

Damn. I guess you shouldn’t judge a book by their cover. I hated to admit it, but Flip actually sounded like he was cool once upon a time.

“Anyway,” Scootaloo said, hesitating a moment before continuing. “My point was–“

“That I’ll feel better if I talk about it?” I asked.

She nodded, smiling hopefully. I could tell she wanted so badly to help. For just a moment, I felt… like I did when I was with Rainbow. I was with someone who actually cared about me. Not in the ‘I feel responsible for you and have to look out for you’ way, but in the ‘you’re my friend and you matter to me’ way.

I knew it wasn’t going to be a good idea, but I spoke before I could have the chance to change my mind.

“A-alright. I’ll tell you about her.”