The next morning, Hoofbeats decided to wear pants to school. Her parents would have allowed her to go without them, but it would probably be better to wait until things were settled than to cause a ruckus. She adjusted her saddlebag, imagining a world in which she could have it embellished with her cutie mark like some of the other students in her class.

Every single student was staring at her when she entered the classroom. Her feelings were torn between wanting to slink away in shame and wanting to drop her pants for the world to see.

As she took her seat, the boy next to her leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Let me see it.”

She feigned ignorance, “See what?”

“You know,” he continued in a long, drawn out voice, “the diiiiick.”

“I’m not showing you,” she said.

The colt was persistent, poking and whispering throughout the lecture.

“You see that between your legs?” she retorted, “It looks like that, only bigger.”

That shut him up for the rest of the class.

At lunch, curious ponies crowded around. Everyone wanted to see the new cutie mark. The teacher looked on disapprovingly. Hoofbeats made eye contact with her and remembered yesterday’s conversation, while also noting how itchy these pants were. A sly smile crept across her face.

“Alright, everypony,” she announced, “I can’t show you at school, but I promise you’ll see it at my cutceñera!”

The room erupted in a loud cheer. She turned to the teacher, who raised an eyebrow. “You’re invited, too, if it’s not an ‘issue’.”

The Parent-Teacher Conference went pretty much exactly as expected. Hoofbeats wriggled in her seat and kicked her hooves while her elders engaged in their shouting match. Her parents put up a good fight, but in the end it was decided that she would be clothed for the remainder of the year. It was a disappointing loss for the entire family.

Her parents had hoped to collectively stew in their defeat on the walk home, but Hoofbeats kicked off conversation anyway.

“I invited a bunch of ponies to my cutceñera,” she casually mentioned.

Her father was surprised. “Do you really want to do that? Aren’t you a little old for that kind of party?”

“Oh Dad, we all know it’s not going to be that kind of party. Besides, it’s traditional.”

Her parents nodded in agreement and they discussed party plans as they continued their walk.

Hoofbeats had assumed that she would just read or draw when she got home, but instead she saw two wrapped gifts on the dining room table.

“Who are these for?” she asked?

“Silly pony,” her mother said, “they’re for you! Surprise!”

“But,” her father chimed in, “don’t open them until you look in the back yard.”

The pony eagerly galloped to the back yard, where she saw four neat rows of freshly planted little trees.

Hoofbeats was confused. “What are they?” she asked.

Her father answered, “They’re rubber tree plants. I spent all morning planting them just for you. Go ahead and open your presents.”

She tore the paper from the gifts. Inside, she found a book on how to process rubber, and a mastication machine, which crushes and grinds the dried latex collected from the plants into a fine paste so it can be molded. Most other ponies her age would have giggled at the word “mastication”, but Hoofbeats was more sensible than that.

With a grin, she hugged her parents tightly and whispered, “Thank you so much.”

Author's Note

This chapter came out a little short and kind of dull. I was going to combine it with the next chapter, but nah.