Scootaloo Throws a Snowball at Rainbow Dash's Car
Football's an awesome sport. When I first joined the team in tenth grade, I felt nothing else I did even compared to the action I experienced twice a week. Whispering new stategies to the others every play, going out for passes and fooling everyone, leaping out at and tackling the opposing player. It's all or nothing. The best part is when you throw yourself at someone's legs. If even a tiny part of you holds back in fear or hesitation, that's it, you end up with nothing in your arms and a hard fall. The kid gets away, possibly kicking you in the face to boot. But if you concentrate and are resilient, if you tackle him wholeheartedly and as strong and fast as you can, if you push yourself to the limits and give it your very all, you could stop the ball and win the game. Your team's score depends solely on the tenacity and bravery you show while playing. I, of course, displayed all of these traits, so I was welcomed onto the team.
It's hard to play football in the winter though, so we had to come up with something just as exhilarating. Our totally rad center, Rumble, (who isn't half-bad to look at either) came up with the brilliant idea of having snowball fights to brighten up the dark, desolate days that make up winter. This held for a while, but I guess we eventually got tired of coming home soaked to the bone and susceptible to colds. I'm not really sure when this began, but we started throwing snowballs at cars instead of people, which was a lot more fun because they moved much faster and were more challenging to hit. Best of all, we weren't the ones at the brunt end of the attack.
It was actually a pretty cool idea and really helped me nail down my aim (not that it wasn't already stellar). The only problem was that even though it was just ice and snow we were throwing, it still qualified as vandalism, and that made us vandals. I didn't think much of it at the time though, and actually thought being a little bad from time to time was kind of fun. I know a tiny part of me felt just as guilty as I'd felt during the newspaper incident, but I pushed it away, 'cause I sure as heck didn't want to be the uptight party pooper who told everyone off for the pettiest reasons.
Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom thought it was stupid. They told me that I was frequently missing club meetings for "some dumb game." I tried to get them to see my side of it, to see that it wasn't just a game, it was practice. They wouldn't listen though, and when attempted to get them to try it, they kept saying that they'd be in huge trouble if anyone found out. So with my messed up teenage brain, I ignored them and continued to pelt cars with snow, just like everyone else.
It was on one of these days that I sat atop a small, shrubby knoll with Rumble, shaping up perfect little snowballs ready to be thrown. It was early January and the snow gently fell over Canterlot, leaving the city wrapped in a chilly, white blanket. Traffic wasn't all that good; barely any cars passed by us. There wasn't a whole lot to do.
The two of us sat together, crafting snowballs that would probably never be used, idly chatting, when the sound of tires on snow slowly crescendoed. A sleek, blue Toyota made its way down the street. Rumble and I quickly got into position and fired our ammo. My snowball hit the very center of the windshield, causing it to resemble an abstract painting.
For the first time ever, the car pulled over. I leapt behind the bush once again to stifle giggles with Rumble, while listening to the driver opening their door. "Nice shot, Scoot," he whispered, holding his hand up for a high five.
"Thanks," I replied, raising my own arm to slap his gloved palm. We chuckled again and then it was quiet. The two of us silently stared and smiled at each other for several moments, admiring the other's shiny, light-lavender eyes.
"Squirt?" a raspy, all-too-familiar voice called. "That you?"
I froze. "That isn't—"
"Yup," Rumble replied tentatively, gesturing to look behind me.
I whipped around to find a very pissed off Rainbow Dash heading straight towards us. She had her arms crossed and wore a harsh scowl as she steadily stomped through the snow. "Ooh," I murmured, "She does not look too happy."
Rumble snorted. "Ya think?"
"Oh, believe me, I know. Ugh, I can't believe that was her car we hit!"
"Hah, what kind of bad luck is that?"
"The really, really bad kind." I turned back to Rumble.
"How did you not know that was her car? Didn't you know what it looked like? You're practically her little sister!"
"Geez, Rumble, I didn't even know she had a car!" We both looked behind me to find that Rainbow Dash was considerably closer to us now. "Must've gotten it for Christmas or something."
"Scoot," she barked, "You and your friend had better get your sorry little butts here pronto!" The two of us continued to watch her stubbornly march towards us. Apparently, she had all day.
"Think we should make a run for it?" Rumble asked.
I paused for a moment and stared at the approaching athlete. "Yeah." We took off behind the brush, down the hill, and onto the ice-coated street.
I heard the rainbow-haired girl yell, "Oh, it is so on!" A smile made its way onto my face, and I continued to run silently beside Rumble. Our footsteps plopped lightly into the fresh snow and I could feel my heart beating faster and faster with every step I took.
Wordlessly, Rumble and I split up.
I turned to look behind me, catching sight of our pursuer. I rolled my eyes; of course she would chase after me. She plodded behind me at an easy rate, knowing full well that she would catch up fairly quickly. I swerved my attention back in front of me in time to avoid crashing into a street lamp and growled. Picking up my pace, I could almost smell Dash's glower as she realized she would have to actually work for this. I wasn't about to make it that easy for her though.
I dove through a grove of trees in the nearby Canterlot Park and leaped over Fluttershy's bunny, Angel. She squeaked as I shouted an apoplogy. I meandered around several benches and patches of flowers, and zigzagged into the playground. I hastily climbed up to the top of a slide and stuck my tongue out at Rainbow Dash, who simply glared at me from down below. As she began to make her way up, I slid down and ran off to the swings.
She followed me there, staying completely silent, and continued to follow me as I did a figure eight around the swings and sprinted back to the slide. I passed it and took a sharp turn towards the field, where I narrowly avoided colliding with a bunch of kids. The same couldn't be said for a snowman Pumpkin Cake was building. My right side smashed into it, but I didn't slow down for a moment, only yelling a brief apology over my shoulder to compensate for my actions.
The sound of a child's wails came from behind me. Tough, I thought, pounding down a path that led out of the park.
"You're such ... a jerk, ... kid!" Rainbow yelled to me between breaths.
"I really am, ... aren't I?" I hollered back, laughing and gasping for air.
The two of us ran and ran, block after block. Into the school, through the student parking lot, past Cheerilee, across the blacktop, and off of the campus. We ran across the streets, down the sidewalks, past a vast array of houses. Every so often, I would glance behind my shoulder only to find Rainbow hot on my heels. We circled around Sugarcube Corner several times, always running, always frantically improvising, always keeping our eye on the prize. Just like in a football game.
Each sliding, enticing step got heavier the farther we ran. I gritted my teeth as I tried to run faster, but my aching legs refused to comply. They burned far too much to continue. I forced myself to keep running, to at least reach Carousel Boutique, but could feel myself slowing down. I weakly pumped my arms, but it was futile; I was done.
Nearly two seconds later, I felt a strong hand grab my shoulder, turn me around, and latch onto my navy blue coat, right above my chest. It pulled me up until I was on my toes and staring nearly eye to eye with a cyan-tinted girl. The two of us stood there a moment, coughing and choking and panting. The cold, brisk air didn't feel so cold and brisk anymore.
"Uh . . . Hi, ... Rainbow!" I said weakly, still catching my breath. I gave her a nervous smile, which was returned with an angry growl. I could see Dash's sneakers displaying flecks of snow and ice all over them, covering up the rainbow lightning bolts that could normally be seen on them. I could see her boot-cut jeans soaked up to her shins and her disheveled rainbow hair.. I could feel her hot breath and I could hear her heavy sigh. Her grip on my coat tightened.
"Scootaloo," she puffed, "You ... are so ... stupid!" She pointed an accusing finger at me with her free hand. My face fell. "I don't ever ... ever want to see ... you pulling something like that again! Do you know how dangerous it is if a driver can't see through the windshield?!" I sighed and rolled my eyes as she continued to rant. The words passed through one ear and out the other though, as I chose to instead wonder why such an amazing chase had to end like this. What a let down . . .
After several minutes, Dash finally stopped yelling and let go of me. I pouted at the ground, refusing to look at her. At least, until she said, "In all honesty though, that was some pretty sweet aiming you did there. And that chase was pretty fun. Almost as fun as when I get wings and can fly."
My gaze shot up at her, shocked, as she gave me a smug grin.
"R-Really?" I gasped, unsure if she had said what I thought she had. Guess you're still cool, Rainbow Dash. She nodded, but her smile quickly vanished and she grabbed my jacket once more, pulling our faces close again.
"But if I ever catch you throwing even the tiniest little snowflake at a car again, especially my brand new Prius, they will never, ever find your body." Her rose eyes furiously burned into mine. "Understood?" I nodded quickly and gave a small smile.
"Yes, m'am."
"Good." Rainbow Dash let go of my jacket and began to muss my hair up, but I smacked her hand away. She laughed and slung her arm around my shoulder as we walked back to her car.
Author's Note
I hate football.
