Scooting in Fashion

There’s nothing more important in this world than family and loyalty to your friends. The taste of victory does feel sweet, but only then when you have the ponies to share it with.

My usual day would begin with doing morning exercises and walking down to the kitchen to make some breakfast. On a rare occasion, I would eat a cupcake or a few, but most of the time a bowl of oatmeal and orange juice were all my morning intake. And though sometimes it was hard to keep myself in shape, I tried to do it as best I could.

After breakfast, I would leave to my mother a note that read: food in the fridge. Then I would pack up my saddlebags and move to school.

On a day off, I hanged out with the Crusaders, hiking around or playing board games when there was nopony to help to obtain their Cutie marks. Sometimes I would have the luck to spend the better part of a day with Rainbow Dash. But over time, my sessions with her became more and more infrequent. As everypony had expected, she had been doing very well at The Wonderbolt Academy. She’d started to get invitations to attend the closed royal performances. And though I was really glad for her success, a part of me that I didn’t like hated the fact she’d been spending most of her time with those pompous ponies.

Trying to find my place, and more importantly, to earn some money to support the family budget, I ended up as a postpony at the post office – the most appropriate job for a pegasus I was capable of at that moment. Unfortunately for me, Mayor Mare wouldn’t let me work a full-time job as full grown ponies do. It’s considered that it can have a bad impact on a foal’s school performance. But I say that’s ridiculous. Who even cares about those useless lessons? Rainbow Dash doesn’t need history or math to do all the awesome tricks she’s famous for.

Because of that, I did some unofficial work for local ponies in the evenings. One of those ponies was an old mare, Mrs. Buttercup. She had problems with walking, so I went out to buy her products and helped her to clean the rooms. She wasn’t rich by any means and my salary was as small as it could be. But I didn’t really care about it. I loved to spend an occasional evening with her, listening to her stories and drinking tea with honey pancakes. If you ask me, I could swear she bakes the most delicious pancakes in all Equestria. Every bite you take is like a sweet dessert, melting in your mouth as soon as you place it on your tongue.

I would graze on the pancakes and put the rest of them into my saddlebags. Back home, I would set the table and watch my mother eat her dinner. We wouldn’t speak much but I always knew that she loved me and appreciated my help from the heart.

Then I would make my way into my room where I would pull the small metallic box out from under my bed. Inside of it, there were all my savings I’d earned in the past year. I would put a few more bits in and calculate my future expenses. Part of the money was for groceries and for the upkeep of the house. But more importantly, it was money for one thing I’d been dreaming of for over a year since I’d met Babs Seed.

Babs had told me that there was a street scooter racing in Manehattan. Later, she’d even sent me the brochure with all the information I needed inside of it. Since that day, I’d known what I wanted to do with my life.

But Manehattan is an expensive city. More than that, I needed a special sports scooter to participate in the race. And though I almost saved up enough money to begin my career as a street racer, I couldn’t spend everything at once and leave my family without means of support.

But in spite of all difficulties, I still believed that I would succeed. Deep down, I even thought that one day my father might notice me after I’d won some big tournament. I imagined him coming up to the podium and congratulating me under the squall of applause. I imagined him speaking to me and being finally proud of his abandoned daughter.

Many months would pass and I would live my routine life, daydreaming about my parents uniting and my beautiful future as a racer. It was until one day that my dreams were shattered and my whole life changed.

The bell rang and the last boring lesson in Cheerilee’s class had finally come to an end. Running out from the schoolhouse, I was glad to spend time with the Cutie Mark Crusaders after a long day.

But first, I decided to go home to drop off my saddlebags and get a snack. And though it was still drizzling out, nothing seemed to cloud my bright mood as I hurried down the street on my scooter.

I was getting up the steps of my home when strange ponies at the doorway crossed my way. My eyes went wide as I saw the two of them hauling the cupboard out of my house. Not knowing how to react, I stopped halfway the stairs, a bewildered expression on my face.

“Get out the way, kid,” a burly stallion with a large notepad yelled.

“What are you doing?” I replied, not moving from where I stood. “They are my things. I will call a royal guard!”

The stallion seemed to tense up a little, but then immediately brought back his harsh demeanor. “Calm down, kid,” he said. “It’s all legal. We are confiscating property for your family debt.”

“What debt?” I asked stupidly. The whole scene didn’t seem real to me. “You must be wrong.”

The stallion sighed, drawing out a document and showing it to me. “Your mother gambled away her house last night.” He shrugged and took a cigarette from his pocket. He lit it up and let out a puff of smoke. “You have time to find a new home until the end of the year.” The stallion then turned his back to me and began to give instructions as to where my cupboard should be carried out.

“It can’t be. It just can’t be,” I mumbled, squeezing through the stallions and then galloping into my room. I threw myself onto the floor and yanked the metallic box out from under my bed. I lifted the box up and immediately flung it against the wall with full force. The container made a dull ringing sound before falling onto the wood planks.

No coin did slip out from the box. It just lay on the floor, still and empty.

When I walked into my mother’s room, she was sitting in the middle of her bed, hunched and staring uselessly at the piece of paper.

I could smell the acrid odor of ethanol permeating the whole room. It made me sick to the pit of my stomach and I struggled with myself not to puke my guts out. It seemed like my mother had locked herself here since the morning, drinking. I doubted she’d eaten anything all day.

“Do you have anything to say?” I asked, not hiding my disgust.

“I’m sorry, Scoots,” my mother said without any emotion in her voice.

“You are sorry?” I felt anger rise up inside me. “You’re not sorry about anything! All you care about is drinking. How could you take my money I’ve been saving for a year? And now you’re in debt to some shark. We might get thrown out because of you!”

My mother raised her sore eyes from the piece of paper and looked at me. “I have built this house. I have raised you. Don’t you dare blame me!” she yelled, stirred awake from her daze. “If not for you and your father, I would have lived another life!”

I stood silently at the doorway, not knowing what to say, tears welling in my eyes.

“I didn’t mean that,” my mother said eventually, holding her head with both hooves as if in a great pain. “It has nothing to do with you. This is all your scumbag of a father. He is the pony who ruined our lives.”

“Don’t say that about him! It would’ve been better if my father had been left here instead of you. He would’ve never stooped to this!”

My mother made a circular motion with her hooves around her temples like she always does to try to soothe herself. I could see a sharp pang of pain crossing her face whether because of a hangover or because of contemplating my words.

“Maybe it’s for the best,” she said hesitantly. “After everything I’ve done, you’d be better off with a foster family where you can live a normal life like all other foals.”

“But I don’t want a foster family. I don’t want a normal life. I want my family, my life with my mother smiling when I’m training at the park and my father teaching me new tricks...” Tears ran down my cheeks as I spoke.

“Scootaloo...” my mother whispered.

Without any further word, I turned around and went out of the room, kicking the door shut behind me. My mind was racing with chaotic thoughts as if it was a train full of ponies speeding toward a sheer cliff. Everything screamed and wailed inside of my head.

I quickened my pace and headed to the exit, grabbing my scooter along the way. Once I was downstairs, my temper flared up at the display. There were those ponies hustling around and hauling the things out from the house. It was the first time I wanted somepony dead. My face creased with contempt just by glancing at their repulsive smirks and hearing their loud laugh. Did they revel in ponies’ misfortune? At that moment I was sure they did.

Having walked outside, the first thing I did was breathe in a deep gulp of fresh air. The oxygen entered my brain and my temper began to cool down at a great rate. I drew in a few more breaths, then jumped on my scooter.

In a minute, I was in Ponyville’s park, racing in circles and trying to perform the most elaborate tricks I never attempted before. By doing so, it was hard to not lose my balance, which in turn caused me to fall off the scooter a few times during my most eager attempts to finish the trick properly. I ignored fresh bruises flourishing over my body like flowers in spring and just hopped back on my scooter to continue the practice.

All my attention was focused on how to perform the trick: at what speed must I move? When is the perfect moment to get my scooter up from the ground? At which rate must I flap my wings to line up with the scooter while we both glide in midair?

By the time the sun began to set, my muscles were aching, signalizing me that it was time to take a break. I trudged my way to an old oak, placed the scooter against the tree’s trunk and wearily threw myself onto the bench that was specifically located here to catch the shadow of the oak’s foliage.

I sat there, contemplating how to improve my balance techniques. I’d made noticeable progress in that regard during the last month but there was still room to improve my hoof stance and wing amplitude. Yet the only thought of being able to perform such a complex trick in near future made my heart pound in my chest.

After resting under the tree for a few more minutes, I headed toward The Cutie Mark Crusaders’ clubhouse, sluggishly striking my hindleg on the ground as I rode the scooter with the last strength that I had.

“Where have ya been?” an angry voice asked as I began opening the door of the clubhouse. I stepped in only to see Apple Bloom sitting in the middle of the room with her hooves folded across her chest. She made a frowny face when she saw me enter. “We agreed to get together right after school,” she said, throwing a harsh look at me.

“Decided to take a ride before coming here,” I said, stretching a thin smile.

Suddenly, a sharp gasp came out from the other side of the room. Sweetie Belle jumped to her hooves from the table he’d been sitting at and ran toward me.

“You have blood on your hip,” Sweetie said, a worried tone in her voice. She glanced over my shabby mane and tail thoroughly as if wondering how is it even possible for a pony to get herself in such a bad condition.

“It’s nothing,” I said, stretching to my wound to rub the blood out.

“It’s not nothing,” Sweetie countered. “It can get infected. What were you thinking?”

Not waiting for my answer, Sweetie ran off to the nearby cabinet and after a half minute came back with a bottle of clean water and a vial of iodine in her hoof. She carefully splashed some water on my wound, then soaked a piece of cotton in the antiseptic substance.

“I swear,” Sweetie said, “I used to think I was going to get a nurse’s Cutie Mark after we first met.”

I let out a chuckle that immediately turned into a sharp ouch as soon as the iodine cotton touched my wound.

Finishing with disinfection, Sweetie fussed about with my hip for a few more minutes, putting the finishing touches to it. She ended up staring at the bandage as if contemplating what else she could do for me.

“Nurse Sweetie Belle,” I said with a hoarse voice, imitating a sick pony, “My hip hurts so bad. When can I get it kissed to ease the pain?”

Sweetie momentarily turned away from my flank, her face a shade of red. “It’s not funny,” she said, gathering her medical possessions and carrying them away back to the cabinet.

“So, what do we do?” I asked, still scrunching my face. Despite the joking, my pain was quite real.

“Well,” Apple Bloom said dramatically, “Ya missed the most interesting part anyway.” She paused, rambling about silently to catch my attention.

“So, what's this about?” I finally asked.

Apple Bloom drew a smirk on her face as she continued. “Rumble came by the clubhouse when ya were out. Wanted our help with his blank flank.”

I let out a gasp. “No way. Why did he choose such a bad moment?” I felt a slight blush creep under my cheeks, so I had to gather myself before continuing. “I mean he’d had so many chances to come here!”

Apple Bloom burst out laughing.

“He didn’t come here, right?” I said impassively.

“Nah. He just visited my sister ta buy some apple juice.” Apple Bloom sighed. “But next time ya will think twice before missing our convention.”

“It’s not that I wanna help him so much!” I said, more emotionally than I intended.

“Of course, of course.” Apple Bloom smiled a sharp smile.

“Stop it, girls,” Sweetie chimed in from the table. I noticed a large amount of papers scattered around her. “It’s your right to bicker with each other instead of preparing for tomorrow’s test but I don’t want to get a bad grade because of this.”

“We have a test tomorrow?” I asked, puzzled.

“Kind of,” Apple Bloom said, “Have you had your head in the clouds all day again?”

“I wish I could,” I said, then trotted over to join Sweetie at the table. Apple Bloom just shrugged and followed after me.

The three of us sat together, surrounded by various books and text notes Sweetie had prepared earlier. As it turned out, there was going to be a math test tomorrow, the worst thing that can happen to a schoolfoal.

“Apple Bloom, do you understand how to solve these equations? It doesn’t make sense for me,” I said, annoyance settling in my voice.

“Not really. What about ya, Sweetie?”

Sweetie Belle looked over the math symbols and after a few seconds made a serious nod. “Should subtract this, then divide the result by the value in that field and you got the right answer,” she explained, showing each step with her hoof at the same time.

“Wow. You’re really smart,” Apple Bloom said with admiration, her eyes tracing Sweetie’s hoof over the paper.

“Nothing special. Rarity taught me this during one of my home studies with her.” Sweetie Belle stretched out one hoof dramatically while placing the other on her forehead. “A true lady cares not only about her appearance but also how sharp her wit is,” Sweetie said, imitating her sister.

“If only everything in life was a math equation that could be solved...” I said absentmindedly.

“Ah? What do ya mean?” Apple Bloom asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Never mind,” I said.

The next day, the foals in the schoolhouse were bustling about worriedly after the test’s results had been announced. Only two students from the whole class got a perfect score – Twist and Sweetie Belle. Miss Cheerilee even made a little speech that was meant to inspire us to study harder, taking Sweetie’s recent achievements as an example.

As for the less diligent students, Apple Bloom managed to get a B grade. I barely passed through a C threshold. It didn’t bother me at all. I’d spent the whole day with my head thinking unpleasant thoughts as to where I could get enough money to pay off my mother’s debt. Working at the post office, it would take years to merely pay a half of it. By that time, my mother and I would be left without a roof over our heads. But what was most scary was the fact that Ponyville’s authorities would have an official reason to throw me away in the Orphanage in Canterlot.

With those thoughts, I spent the rest of the week trying to figure out what to do next. I tried for different vacancies but everypony just laughed at me before showing me the door. In the end, my spirit sank, my mind like in a thick fog. Still, there was the last hope I didn’t dare to resort to until then.

It was another day after school. Our trio was walking down the school park, tired and exhausted. Trying to lighten the mood, Apple Bloom was telling a story about how she accidentally caught Diamond Tiara making eyes at Featherweight while the colt just pulled out his camera and made a shot.

Sweetie Belle let out a little chuckle, presumably imagining Diamond’s face at that moment. I, on the other hoof, was deeply immersed in my emergency plan to be able to pay any attention to anything else.

After a while, our roads parted and we made a deal to get together at the clubhouse later this afternoon. I pretended to make my way home, watching Apple Bloom get out of sight. I waited half a minute and walked off towards the road to Carousel Boutique. Casually, I caught up with Sweetie Belle, falling into step beside her as if we were going to the same place.

“Scootaloo? What’s the matter?” Sweetie asked, looking in my eyes.

No matter how I tried, I couldn’t fight off the anxiety that was overwhelming me. All the words I’d prepared earlier just flew out of my head like sand through a sieve, only leaving thick grains of uncertainty. I was about to say goodbye and turn away when Sweetie stepped forward, getting face-to-face with me, a concerned expression on her face.

Her sun pearl-necklace almost blinded me as she stood here before me. It swayed up a little, then settled back on her neck. I stared at it with my eyes fixed. Such luxury was definitely beyond any of my dreams. But, apparently, it was nothing to Miss Rarity, since she could easily pay her little sister such an expensive jewelry just for posing for a crowd in her fancy dresses.

“I want to be a model,” I blurted out almost involuntary.

“You do?” Sweetie asked with confusion. It was written on her face that it was the last thing she expected to hear.

It was late to turn aside, so I continued. “That’s why I came to talk with you. You’re the only pony I know who can understand me.”

“Oh.” Sweetie let out a short sigh, her expression something between an amusement and an I will not fall for your and Apple Bloom’s prank again. “I thought you hated fashion,” she said.

“You know what that’s like. You pretend you hate something just because you’re afraid of being embarrassed.” I let out a nervous giggle.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Sweetie decided to reassure me. “It’s perfectly normal for a pony to have a passion for dresses.” Sweetie pondered for a while before adding, “Despite what Rainbow Dash might say. But if you want to keep it private, I won’t tell anypony. It’s good that you shared it with me.”

I had never felt so disgusting in my entire life. Lying to my best friend when she was being sincere. But I wasn’t in the position to choose.

“I’ve been dreaming of dedicating my life to fashion and dresses as long as I can remember,” I said. “And you mentioned your sister was so busy lately that she was complaining about a need of an extra pair of hooves...” I trailed off pointedly.

Sweetie kept silent, contemplating something for long seconds. “I don’t think you fully understand...”

“Sweetie, please. I need this job. Please, talk to your sister.” I rubbed my eye with a hoof to wipe off a tear. It was that little that came from me sincerely during our conversation.

Sweetie’s head sank to the ground. If she’d had any thoughts that it might have been a prank, now they were gone. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll talk to her,” she said.

We walked the rest of the way to Carousel Boutique in silence. Previously I’d thought I would not feel any worse but I’d been wrong. I’d done what I’d persistently avoided. I’d let my emotions out. I’d almost burst out weeping in front of Sweetie Belle like a beaten kitten. I felt a big bitter lump form in my throat, preventing me from breathing freely.

At Carousel Boutique, Sweetie told me to wait outside while she was talking to her sister. A brief shiver crawled over my fur as I saw her disappear behind the door of the luxurious building. For a second, I imagined Rarity’s expression of disdain toward my proposal of being her protege. How could a pony of such upper class accept an urchin like me? What was I thinking? Half an hour passed and I gave up all hope when suddenly Sweetie Belle came out.

“I’ve arranged everything.” She made a gesture with her hoof toward the entrance, inviting me in.

I sighed with relief. The black clouds over my head parted and I saw a narrow passage running up to my future. The rest was up to me and my ability to prove myself as a pony worth Miss Rarity’s attention.

“Thank you, Sweetie.”