The Fruit Falls

“So, Scootaloo, I see you’re flying like, super good,” Rumble said as he took a sip from the straw in his cherry soda with an unnecessary amount of whipped cream and an oddly large maraschino cherry perfectly placed on top.

        Scootaloo followed the cherry as it moved from the top of the drink to the table, then lined with his eyes.  Her gaze lingered in his eyes for a little too long before he swallowed and looked up.

        Scootaloo inhaled with a squeak and looked down to her plain muffin.

        “So, Scootaloo, I like your hat.  Did your mom make it?” Rumble asked as he placed his drink on the table and grasped his cupcake.

        Scootaloo mumbled in a high pitched tone as she looked up to see him and blushed as she grabbed her plain muffin and took a bite.

        “Uhm, so, is your muffin good?  I didn’t think plain would be your flavor…  I thought carrots and raspberries, to be honest.”

        Scootaloo gasped and began to cough muffin debris onto the table and floor.  Apple Bloom reached over and patted her on the back, hard, sending Scootaloo draped over the table as she felt her airway clear.

        She heard Rumble giggling to himself.  She slunk back into her seat and looked at Rumble again finally smirking, then smiling, then giggling herself at the bits of muffin stuck to Gallop.

        Apple Bloom was the first to laugh as Gallop started licking the muffin he could reach from his body. “Hey,” he said, “this’ a pretty plain joke, but where’s the icing?”

        The table erupted with laughter as Scootaloo finally felt her heart beating more normally.

        “So, yeah, my Granny Smith made me the hat.  It’s super nice and warm,” Scootaloo said as she wiped her mouth on her fetlock.

        “Oh, that’s cool.  My granny keeps sending me pillows made with her old feathers… kinda creepy.”

        “What the hay?  That’s so weird…  Why would she do that?”

        “I dunno, somethin’ about tradition and saving stuff, or something,” Rumble shrugged, still grinning as he placed his hooves on the table.  “Do you like feathers?  I mean, in your bed… I mean pillows!” He stammered starting to blush.

        “Y-yeah, mostly mine, though,” she said with a sigh as she looked at him, “but someday…”

        “Someday, what?”

        She gasped and grabbed her slushie, slurping it loudly, gulping several times.  She placed it down and felt her heart racing. “Uh, no real reason, ya know.  Uhm, I mean, someday maybe I’d find the right coltfriend to show my bed… my room!  I…  didn’t…  Aaaugh!”

        Scootaloo screamed at him, making him lean back and almost fall backwards as she she grasped her head and slammed it to the table.

        Several other ponies looked to see what the ruckus was.  Apple Bloom looked on, aghast.

        “Scootaloo!? Are ya alright?  What’s wrong?!”

        “B-b-b,” she stopped to cough and exhale loudly, “brain freeze.”

        Within several seconds the room had erupted into laughter at the pained, highly embarrassed, filly who was suffering from the oldest pain of all; the pain of having a crush laugh at her.

        Mrs. Cake trotted over quickly with a warm cup of water she delivered to the struggling filly who drank two fast gulps, exhaling a puff of chilly air.

        “Is that better dearie?”

        “Y-yeah, th-thanks… it’s going away now.  Sorry for the fracas.”

        “Uhm, it’s no problem, dear,” Mrs. Cake said turning away.

        “Are you feeling better?”

        “Carrot and raspberry is my favorite muffin.”

        “...Wow!  I got, like, mind powers, did ya hear that, Gallop?”

        Gallop had finished cleaning his mane with a napkin as he looked intently at Apple Bloom. “Yeah, cool.  So, Apple Bloom…”

        “Yeah,” Rumble huffed, “he’s in his own world again.  So, that was a lucky guess, huh?”

        “Y-yeah, not too bad, for a stallion.”

        Rumble grinned wide.  “Thanks, no pony’s called me a stallion before.  Wanna know how I guessed the flavors?”

        “Uh, sure,” Scootaloo replied taking a smaller bite of her muffin and swallowing quickly.

        “Your eyes and wings.”

        Scootaloo gulped and felt her whole body heating up as her wings began to open widely.  She began to pant.  Her vision narrowed a bit.  Finally, she felt a wettening on her cushioned stool.

        “Huhh, I, I gotta go,” she said breathily as she practically fell out of her seat and galloped to the door, opened it, and left with a quiet yelp as she jumped into a snowpile just outside the door.