Sour ‘n Sweet ‘n Pretty

by Nico-Stone Rupan

Rating: teen
Tags: Sour Sweet, Romance, Second Person, Comedy, Self Insert, Equestria Girls
Length: 2399

You’re a shy guy attending Crystal Prep who’s had a deep crush on Sour Sweet for years. One morning, you finally gather the courage to compliment on how pretty she is. There’s only one problem. She doesn’t agree.

You’re a shy guy attending Crystal Prep who’s had a deep crush on Sour Sweet for years. One morning, you finally gather the courage to compliment on how pretty she is. There’s only one problem. She doesn’t agree.

Published 2015-12-14 10:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2015-12-14 10:50:01 UTC

Sour 'n Sweet 'n Pretty

Author's Note

Inspired by this meme: https://derpicdn.net/img/2015/9/27/989559/medium.jpg

When Sour Sweet’s dialogue is presented in italics she’s sweet, in bold she’s sour, and in plain type she’s a normal human being ( A miracle! ).

Sour 'n Sweet 'n Pretty

“Oh, you think I’m pretty? You’re an idiot.”

You just stand there, slack jawed at her response. Saddened, even. It isn’t because she called you an idiot, though. She’s called you that so many times that you’ve come accustomed to it. Heck, every insult she’s ever hurled at you you’ve come to consider endearing. Sometimes you have to wonder if that makes you the definition of a masochist.

It hasn’t been easy for you having such a deep crush on a schizophrenic bully such as Sour Sweet for these so many years. For the most part, you could be described as a “shy guy”. You’re even worse than your reclusive ex-classmate Twilight Sparkle. At least she was able to initiate conversations.

In fact, Sour Sweet is the only student at Crystal Prep Academy which you can ever gather enough courage to talk to… which is honestly a little nuts when you stop to think about it. Out of everyone, Sour Sweet is the one who inspires you to come out of your shell? What can you say? You must be a masochist. That’s the only explanation for it.

Okay, no. There is a more reasonable explanation for your heart’s yearning for the two-faced chick. It has to do with confidence. As in, she has it and you do not. You’ve always hoped that if you could enter into a relationship with Sour Sweet then maybe she could teach you to be more assertive. Perhaps you could even teach her to be nicer. Opposites attract, yin and yang, and all that jazz.

You’ve lately decided to try to be a little more direct with your feelings to her. It’s all thanks, of course, to the events of the Friendship Games. Ever since that day, everyone around Crystal Prep has felt free to start opening up to one another. You love it! Principal Cinch hates it, but you love it!

Unfortunately, you’ve just found yourself in a situation which isn’t so much rainbows and lasers for you…

****************

It started when you arrived at Crystal Prep and walked down the hall toward your locker. You then spotted the heart-skipping sight which you looked forward to every morning: Sour Sweet at her locker. You’ve always thanked the heavens above to be able to have your locker in such a close proximity, just three down from hers.

You quickly hyped yourself up to speak to her. You chose to say the most sincere compliment which comes to your mind every time you lay eyes on her.

“H-hey, Sour Sweet. Uh, you look really pr-pretty today, heh.”

Not only did you begin to mentally curse yourself for the stuttering, but utterly panic at your choice of words. You felt like you could already hear the trademark Sweet/Sour quip coming from a mile away: “Really? I’m pretty today? Are you saying I’m UGLY every OTHER day, buster?!”

You immediately prepared yourself to go into apology/explanation mode, but that didn’t ready you for the words which hit you next…

“Oh, you think I’m pretty? You’re an idiot.”

****************

So here you are now: in utter disbelief at the implication that you’re detecting from her statement.

“I’m an idiot for thinking that you’re pretty? Sour Sweet… do you not think that you’re pretty?”

“Here’s a tip for you, Romeo: if you want a girl to like you, don’t resort to any of that smooth talking crap and lie through your stinkin’ teeth to her.”

Sour Sweet slams her locker and turns to walk away, when you suddenly find yourself shooting your hand out to tightly grip her arm.

“HEY!” she shouts as you spin her around to face you.

“Sour Sweet, I wasn’t lying to you! You’re very pretty! What makes you think that it’s not the truth to say that you are? Has someone told you that you’re ugly?! Who are they?! They don’t know what the hell they’re talking about!”

Sour Sweet grabs your hand and rips it off her arm with her free one. She slowly backs away from you with an expression of what looks to be a mix of fury and bewilderment. Both of those emotions you find yourself in complete agreement with. What just came over you?

“Uh, Sour Sweet, I-I’m sorry if I scared you…”

The bell then rings for first period. Sour Sweet glares at you for another agonizing moment before she finally turns to head to her class.

****************

For the next three class periods, you can’t get your mind off what happened or why Sour Sweet would think that she isn’t pretty. You just have to know what’s going on with her. Of course, you have the sinking feeling that that’s easier said than done. You’re glad it’s about to be fourth period, though. That’s the one out of the whole school day which you share with Sour Sweet, who sits just two seats ahead of you.

When you enter the classroom, you smile brightly as you see Sour Sweet already at her desk. You give her a little wave… to which she promptly responds by growling, crossing her arms, and averting her gaze straight down towards her open textbook.

She doesn’t even want to look at me, you mentally lament.

You pass her and take your seat. It’s not long into the incredible dull lecture from the teacher that you get an idea. If she won’t look at you, maybe she’ll at least read something from you.

You then compose the message, “To the prettiest in the room – So sorry about this morning. Talk after class?” out on a piece of scrap paper.

You pass it up to Trenderhoof, being the one who sits right in-between the two of you. He reads it and then glances back with a “What’s this about?” look. You cringe and meekly point ahead. Trenderhoof mouths, “Ah” and passes it along to Sour Sweet.

You lean over to the side to look toward her with a sense of hope. That hope, of course, is quickly dashed when Sour Sweet, without looking back, holds out the note to where you can see it, forcefully crumples it up, allows it to drop to the floor, and then finally reaches her foot over to stomp on it… repeatedly.

You slump in your desk. Even Trenderhoof is compelled to glance back again with an “Ouch, tough break” look.

****************

You try to keep your optimism up as lunch rolls around. You receive your gourmet portions ( only the best for Crystal Prep, right? ) and go directly to Sour Sweet’s table, which is shared by her group of friends. Perhaps she will be more receptive to you with them around.

As long as Sour Sweet is there, you ( kinda ) feel comfortable to address them collectively and let out, “H-hey, guys.”

All across the table you are hailed with “Hello, dearie” from Sunny Flare, “Sup?” from Indigo Zap, “Greetings” from Sugarcoat, and, of course, a hearty “Duuuude!” from Lemon Zest. Sour Sweet just keeps eating.

“Sooo, uh, may I join you?”

“No,” Sour Sweet sharply answers without looking up from her tray.

The others freeze, except for their eyes which all dart back and forth between the two of you. They can already tell something’s up.

“Oh, alright,” you concede and walk off.

As you reach another table, you overhear a volley of questions from the girls being cut off by a “Everyone mind their own beeswax!” from Sour Sweet.

****************

The bell signaling the end of school sounds off… but you can’t let this day end without talking to Sour Sweet! You run straight to your locker, but she’s not at hers. You rush along the hallways in an effort to spy any glimpse of her. No such luck. You finally run outside to the front of the campus. There she is! She’s walking down the sidewalk on her way home.

“Sour Sweet! Sour! Please wait up!” you call as you run after her like a madman.

By what you can only think of as some kind of miracle, Sour Sweet slows down her pace. She still doesn’t look back, though.

“Sour, I really am sorry about this morning, but I need to know what you meant,” you manage to say, despite your windedness.

“My apologies if I wasn’t clear enough for you,” Sour Sweet says sorrowfully before adding with a nasty smirk, “YOU. ARE. AN. IDOIT! Now was that comprehensible for you this time, hm?”

“No, Sour Sweet!”

Sour Sweet groans, rolls her eyes, and begins to pick back her pace away from you. You immediately speed up to match.

“Sour, why are you calling me an idiot for saying that you’re pretty?”

“Look, whatever your endgame is here – help on your homework, some popularity points, a notch on your belt – go after Sunny Flare or Fleur de Lis. THEY’RE the pretty ones who just LOVE hearing so from everybody at school!”

Your heart sinks as you believe you’re detecting the source of her frustration. Does she feel inferior to other girls at Crystal Prep? Is this the key to understanding Sour Sweet? Could it be that her particular attitude is just a mask to cover up the insecurities that she has about herself and not schizophrenia? Okay, you know that she really has schizophrenia. You saw her take her medication one time. Just one time… but still!

If you’re right about this, you decide then that Sour Sweet needs to know that you empathize and care for her. You try to seize her hand, but she immediately jerks it back.

“Touch me again and you’re getting slapped, either by ME or a RESTRAINING ORDER or BOTH!”

She’s right, of course. First it was the arm grab, just then her hand. You do seem to be getting forceful with her today. Add in that outburst earlier and you really are giving off a terrible impression. You haven’t had much experience being assertive, but that still doesn’t mean that you can’t tell when you’re going too far. This isn’t any appropriate way to treat somebody… let alone somebody with a mental condition…

“Sour Sweet, I’m sorry. I just want you to understand how I feel.”

“Oh, I understand perfectly. I understand when I’m told a LIE about being pretty.”

“IT’S NOT A LIE!”

Sour Sweet steps back defensively, her arm shooting up and hand straightening out firmly at the ready to smack the living snot out of your face if you dare come closer.

Oh crap, you did it again! You hate how you just yelled at her. However, you still feel like you can’t let this go. Not yet, at least. She needs to know about your feelings and more importantly about what she needs to realize about herself, despite what her schizophrenia makes her think. Even if she thinks that you’re a psycho...

You let out a deep breath.

“Sour Sweet…” you begin as gently and sincerely as you can muster, “… you are pretty. You may not see it yourself, but you are to me. As far as I’m concerned, you are way prettier than Sunny Flare, Fleur de Lis or any other girl in all of Crystal Prep Academy from your adorable freckles to your beautiful cranberry hair, whether it’s in that ponytail or those cute buns you fashioned for the Friendship Games. I would even love to see it all let down one day just to be able to witness how incredible you would look then.

“And you are not just pretty. You are much, much more. I think you are amazing. You are one of the top twelve students at Crystal Prep, your archery skills are awe-inspiring, and you don’t take crap from anyone. I wish that I had the kind of drive that you have.

“I haven’t meant to come off as some smooth player or crazy stalker or any other impression that you may have gotten, Sour Sweet. I just wanted to tell you what’s in my heart. I’ll leave you alone from now on.”

You turn around to sulk away. Suddenly, you feel a hand grab yours. You turn back to see Sour Sweet looking off bashfully with a deep shade of red across her face. It’s the kind of sight which you had never expected from her.

There’s a long silence, but you almost can’t care less. Sour Sweet’s fingers and yours are intertwined in a warm embrace. You can stay like this forever.

The silence finally breaks when you hear a softly spoken, “I like Italian.”

You blink at Sour Sweet a couple times. “Wh-what?”

Her eyes then shoot directly into yours. “The restaurant on the corner of 5th Street. It’s my favorite. Be there Friday night at seven.”

Her fingers detach from yours. She takes a few steps away before she shoots her head back and spits out, “And you BETTER love it when my hair’s all let down!”

With that, she leaves.

You stand there for the longest time before your brain begins to comprehend what just happened. A date? A goofy grin grows across your face. A date! You got a date with Sour Sweet!

As you start to fist pump wildly into the air, you can’t help but to imagine how the other guys at Crystal Prep would think about you going out with Sour Sweet. “She’s too psycho to date,” you’ve always heard. Well, as your behavior over the past day has likely demonstrated, you’re also crazy. Crazy for Sour Sweet. You smile. Perhaps the fact that you’re both "psychos" is precisely the reason why you two are perfect for each other.

On that note, you then stop to ponder if your emotional snaps today may actually be an indicator that you’re somewhat a mood swinger yourself. You shrug. Perhaps you could ask Sour Sweet to let you try some of her medication one day. Just in case.

After all, considering that you can only remember seeing her take it just one time since you’ve known her, you have the sneaking suspicion that her pill bottle has plenty to spare…

THE END