Opposites Attract

Button was sitting in class pondering what he was going to say to Sweetie Belle this afternoon during recess. He had been crushing on her for the two months that he’s lived here and decided he wasn’t going to just sit there and do nothing. He was always shy and quiet, and at times, afraid of his peers. Everywhere he went, there were always foals who found it funny to pick on him.

Two minutes to recess and he was already sweating bullets, clenching his jaw, and tapping his hoof sporadically on the floor. He was a nervous wreck. The ten single syllable words burnt into his skull played over and over like a broken record: “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

Cheerilee had roused the students from their independent reading time: a half hour of doodling knights, zombies, jedis, and almost anything imaginable whilst trying to look busy for Button, and actual dreaded work for the other foals. He was the epitome of underachiever as he was, in fact, quite bright for a colt his age. Cheerilee knew this as he would often stay after class to talk about anything from the evolutionary history of crocodilians to future medical advancements. She knew that one day he’d do great things and see the world around him. If only the other foals knew.

“Children, as you all know, there’s a school dance next Saddleday, but you need this permission slip signed by a parent or guardian.” She stood up and leaned against the door with a stack of orange notecards that most likely had a description of the dance, appropriate dress code, and a little spot for a signature. “These are due next Maneday, so get these signed by then.”

All of the foals who were anxious to get outside had already packed up their things and were headed towards the door where Cheerilee was waiting. Those who didn't think ahead were saving pages, finishing paragraphs, and putting things away. The action of the single file line reminded Button of bullets in a clip: Cheerilee gives a foal a slip, firing them out to play; the hot gases of excitement pushing back the slide and another foal was right there in the chamber.

Button was the last to stand up being that his desk was covered with drawings of desolate wastelands combed for supplies by survivors, or a standoff between a Jedi and a Sith lord, conjured up by his own imagination. He said nothing as he placed his saddlebags upon his back and headed for the door.  Miss Cheerilee handed him a slip and asked, “So you plan on going to the dance, Button?”

Button wanted more than ever to say with confidence “yes” ,but he settled for a much more timid “Probably not.”

“Oh . . .  but there’s always time to change your mind.” She shot him a smile which he returned with a casual nod.

When Button finally got outside, he made a beeline for one of the picnic tables to get spiffed up and go over what he was going to say a few times. Upon the halfway mark of the swing set, Button was nailed in the back of the head with a water bottle. He turned to the direction of the throw and saw almost the entire class standing behind him. Among them, a unicorn by the name of Sweetie Belle. It didn't take long for him to figure out who threw it: Rumble. Rumble was the quarterback for the hoofball team and a star runner on the track team. He was fantasized about by fillies, envied by the colts, and hated by Button.

This wasn't the first time Rumble had done something like this. On his third day of school, Rumble spit in Button’s milk and waited for him to finish before telling him. That earned him the title of “Spit Guzzler” Two weeks after that, Rumble snatched Button’s JoyBoy and lead him to the field behind the schoolyard where Featherweight and Shady Daze were waiting with buckets full of golf balls and small rocks. After that, Button knew not to fall for any of his tricks.

The crowd was pointing and laughing while Button stood and watched. Rumble called out “Maybe that wouldn't hurt so bad if you wore your retard helmet today!” The mass of foals laughed even harder at his obviously planned comment. “Is widdle baby gonna cwy?” All of his classmates were trying to get a better look at his face as they began to surround him. Button knew that this would be a big fiasco, so he was mentally preparing himself for the barrage of insults when somepony spoke up.

“LEAVE HIM ALONE! SHOW’S OVER!” It was Babs Seed, the school badass who took shit from nopony. The foals stood silent for a moment before somepony just couldn't keep their mouth shut.

“Look! Babs is protecting her sissy coltfriend!” The amalgamated mass of foals laughed even harder after yet another dumb comment excreted from lips of Rumble.

Babs knew what it was like to be bullied . . . and to be one. After the incident with Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon two summers prior, Babs swore to herself that she'd stop all acts of bullying that she saw even at the cost of her own well being. She barely knew Button, but she knew him well enough to know that he didn't deserve what he was getting. She had only spoken to him once before, only saying "S'cuse me"

The crowd continued to shake with laughter. Babs turned to Button and said, “C’mon, these shitheads won’t let up.” He was still frozen in embarrassment, forcing Babs to hold his hoof and lead him away as the other foals continued to laugh. Albeit the action added fuel to the fire, they were soon behind the bushes at the edge of the schoolyard. They sat down to rest and eat lunch. “They really topped themselves this time. I mean, they do dumb shit like this all the time, but not to this level.” Button silently nodded in agreement. Babs pulled out a pack of Marelboros and offered one to Button which he respectfully declined. She grabbed the filter in her lips and lit the end with her signature Zebro lighter. She took a long first drag and blew the smoke into his face causing him to wince.

He got comfy on the ground and reconsidered. He sat back up and quietly said, “On second thought, gimme a cig.” He held out his hoof to Babs who was glad to oblige. “Thanks” He said, holding out his muzzle for a light. He took a long drag off his cigarette and pulled it down to his lungs; a real pro. He exhaled a plume of smoke through his nose much like Vincent Prance from a '50's horror flick.

“No problem.” She sat back and took another drag off her cigarette. She scooted in closer to him and rolled to her side, pivoting her elbow up to support her head much like a model on the cover of a magazine. “I wouldn't expect a pony like you to smoke" She said with another long drag.

“There's a lot of things ponies don't know about me.” He gave her a cheeky grin and rolled over to face her, muzzles only inches apart.

Babs smiled back at him "Like what?" She was dying to know what this rather cute colt who was, more or less, indebted to her was  about to say.

"Well for starters, I can play bass guitar"

"Sexy"

Button giggled at the statement before continuing. "Chicks dig my mad bass skills" He nonchalantly tapped the ash off his cigarette, trying not to laugh at his own feigned arrogance.

PPPFFFFFFFTTTTT!! Babs couldn't help but laugh at his clever statement. "Damn Button, you're funny as fuck!" At that moment, something inside Babs made a realization: she was beginning to crush on Button. Was it because he was cute with his bacon mane and that well kept coat of his, or how he was plagued by adorable little idiosyncrasies. Maybe those soft, kissable lips of his. She didn't know, but the mystery of this eccentric colt excited her.

"Thanks, brah" He did his best to sound like an e-vaping douche who thinks he's so cool; said action causing Babs' sides to hurt with laughter. Button too made a realization: he was crushing on Babs. Was it her thick Manehattan accent, or her take-no-shit attitude that caught his eye. Maybe it was the fact she had stood up for him even when it meant that she'd get shit from the rest of the class too. It might of been her jiggly ass that squished out from beneath her when she sat down. Who knew?