Her Sentence as a Pony: Book One

Shortly after washing her hands to rid the contact of the false Sunset, Shade runs into Wallflower—quite literally—just outside the restroom. Shade catches Wallflower before she falls making the verdant teen perform an unintentional dip (she also nails the leg lift).

“Do you dance?” Shade questions while returning Wallflower to a vertical position.

Wallflower straightens her sweater and tucks some of her green hair behind her ear before answering, “No. Not really.”

“Hmm.” Shade hums as she scans the teen for falsehoods. Sensing the girl’s honesty, Shade asks, “Are you heading to the gym as well?”

“Yes. So your last period is gym, too? What are the odds?”

Shade computes quick calculations. “There was a two-point-zero-four percent chance of us having the same period, minimum. The percentage increases depending on the variables: you being in an athletic club, me being in an athletic club, you being in marching band, and me being in marching band to a maximum of twenty-seven-point-one-four percent chance.”

Wallflower blinks at Shade. “You’re joking?” She sees Shade shake her head. “You did that all in your head?”

“Would you believe me if I did the calculations in someone else’s head?”

“I just wish I was smart enough to do that.”

“I am sure you know more about plants than myself, yes? Is a fish stupid because it fails the test of climbing a tree?”

Hazelnut brown eyes stare into the yellow eyes to their left. “I guess not.” Wallflower smiles. “We all have things we are good at and bad at, right? Guess we shouldn’t be comparing ourselves to everyone.”

Shade sagely nods. She follows Wallflower the rest of the way to the gym and female locker room.

Once again, Shade finds herself the center of attention as her scars catch the eyes of everyone in the locker room.

“Whoa! What happened to you?” A raspy voice exclaims behind her.

Shade turns around to see a cyan girl with rainbow hair pointing a cyan finger at Shade’s now expose chest. The girl flushes a bright red as her cerise eyes grow wide staring at the small snow mounds with pale cherry peaks in front of her. Shade looks down at where the girl is pointing.

Shade cocks her head to the left. “How did that get there?” She shrugs her shoulders and returns to her open locker to put on the gym shirt. A smile hides behind her mask as Shade looks at the cyan teen hanging her mouth open and still pointing. “I guess it shall forever remain a mystery?” She slips on her socks, allowing the cyan teen a full view of her backside as she bends down to slide into the gym shoes.

Something about the girl draws Shade to her. She can not put a finger on what exactly. She mentally punches herself as she walks out of the locker room trying to clear the hormones from her brain. Reminding herself of their vast age difference. Is her body that desperate for attention?

No.

No. She heaves an inward sigh as she lines up for role call. Her body craves physical attention because she has kept everyone physically and emotionally distant.

That look the girl had, that was the same look her last lover wore when he had saw her naked for the first time. Sparks flash in her eyes as metal rings in her ears. Tears threaten to douse the blossoming flames of anger deep within her heart. A gunshot drops her to her knees as the memory of her love slumps to the ground in front of her. The world turns into a dark, cold void as she stares with wide eyes at the body in her lap. She had failed him and their son. Everyone she loves inevitably gets taken from her. How much of her heart does she have left?

No.

She will not allow another die for her selfishness—her weakness. She will not allow for her heart to break again. No.

No.

That kind of thinking is what had led her down the wrong path in the first place. What does Grey always say? She stops thinking. She had not thought about her progenitor for some time.

“Shade!”

Shade opens her eyes and sees hazelnut eyes full of concern peering at her. As her other senses return she hears the murmur of others around her. She takes a deep breath through her nose and sniffles. Moisture and humidity build up behind her mask and she feels the warm tears streak down her cheeks.

“Shade.”

She returns her focus to the green teen kneeling next to her. She offers a lame chuckle. “What was that?”

“That’s kinda what we want to know.” The rainbow-haired girl speaks up from the other side of Shade. “You okay?” Her raspy voice and wide cerise eyes are full with concern.

Shade breathes out a heavy sigh. She stands up and dusts herself off. “A mystery of the ages to be sure, yes?” She turns to the teacher and eyes the starting pistol in her right hand. The teacher hides the pistol in her pocket. “May I be excused?”

“Sure. Take all the time you need. Do you want a pass to your counselor?”

“Maybe next time?” Shade shrugs and walks towards the locker room.

Shade hears the locker room door open and close. Footsteps hesitantly approach her on the bench. She stares at the white cotton towel on her face.

“How are you feeling?” She recognizes the voice as Wallflower.

“Do you know the feeling between completely broken and an utter wreck?”

Silence hangs in the room. Shade feels a body sit next to her on her right.

“Want to talk about it?”

Shade nods her head.

Ten minutes pass and neither of the two have said a word. Shade turns to the left and picks up the white mask resting beside her.

“What’s the story behind the mask?”

Shade brings the mask to her face and quickly removes the towel to replace it with the mask. She sighs a breath of relief. She stands to her feet and holds her gaze on Wallflower.

“Are you patient enough to learn the answers or will you go on with you life?”

Wallflower stands up and smiles. “If...when you feel comfortable enough to talk I’ll be around. Just don’t call too late. I sleep like a log.”

Shade points to where her mouth is and bring her finger to her cheek. “Smile,” her gloves say and she further signs, “Thank you. I am trying to get out of my comfort zone and learning how to trust again.”

“I’m a gardener, remember? I’m all about patience.”

“Speaking of gardens,“ Shade begins to say when the locker room door opens.

A rainbow mess of hair pops around the wall with cerise eyes cautiously peering from behind the gray stone. The cyan teen, Rainbow Dash (Shade’s subconscious reminds her since it had paid attention during roll call) slides from around the wall and gives a chuckle. “You feeling better, Shade?”

Shade nods her head and walks toward the teen.

“Great! We’re about to shoot some hoops. You game?”

Tall, furry bipedal creatures running for their lives as hot lead rips through the slow unfortunate ones plays behind Shade’s eyes. Hooples had grown rampant on the frontier world Nemis V and the Galactic Coalition had ordered an immediate cull. She blinks. “Please clarify?”

“Uh... basketball?” Rainbow Dash’s face twists into one of confusion and suspicion as if saying, How can you not know what basketball is? Have you been living under a rock?

“Will you allow me to observe first?” Shade asks the three of them walk out the locker room.

“Sure! Then you’ll see how awesome I am!”

Ah. There it is. The thing Shade finds alluring about the teen: confidence. Rainbow Dash’s cerise eyes burst with self-esteem and her smile beams as intense as a star. Shade nods and gives her a thumbs up before Rainbow Dash jogs away.

Wallflower groans with slight annoyance.

“Do not like sports?” Shade asks as the two sit down on the sideline.

“That and,” Wallflower‘s hazelnut eyes flick over to the court watching the rainbow haired girl weave between opponents, “don’t you find her annoying and arrogant?”

“Should I?” Shade looks and has her head tilting to the left.

“Give it some time. She is practically the Captain of every sports team and doesn’t let anyone forget that. And thinks she is the best thing since sliced bread because she can play the electric guitar.”

Shade watches the students playing basketball, taking in all the details of the game and players.

“Do you have something against people that play the electric guitar?”

“No.” Wallflower glowers at Rainbow Dash, “Just her.”

“What happened between you two?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Shade nods. Wallflower’s tone and arms across her chest tell Shade that line of questioning ends. Shade watches as Rainbow Dash jumps up to the goal, hook her arm over her head, and the orange ball swish into the net. Rainbow Dash’s team cheers and the girl pumps her fist in victory. She jogs over to Shade; her smile falters as she quickly takes her eyes away from the left side of Shade.

“Ready?” Rainbow Dash extends a hand to Shade.

Her panting and flush skin triggers a fantasy in the back of Shade’s mind which she squashes almost immediately. Shade accepts the hand. “Only one way to know, yes?”

Rainbow Dash flashes a small grin.

In truth, basketball plays similarly to a sport native of Shade’s homeworld. “Handball“ (closest translation) does not allow the bouncing of the ball, only for passing to teammates, and unlike “contactball”, making direct aggressive contact to the player is a penalty. The basketball court is smaller and the goal is larger than in “handball” and the ball also has less mass, variables she quickly inputs in her mind as she takes the court.

“Um, Shade, why are you going to that team?” Rainbow Dash asks.

Shade walks over to a light blue skinned, half dark blue and half pale blue haired teen. The girl smiles wide at Shade. “Minuette landed on her right foot incorrectly after trying to block Rainbow Dash and may have a mild sprain, right?”

The students all turn to Minuette who titters. “Yeah, my ankle kinda hurts but I didn’t want to worry everyone.”

“Go get some ice on that,” the teacher says, “and speak up next time.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Minuette salutes and limps to the locker room. Wallflower helps her along.

Shade cracks her knuckles and pops her neck. “Shall we begin?”