The Syndrome Playlist

I leave physics alone. Rainbow Dash was still snoozing pretty hard when class ended, so I didn’t wake her. Know I hate it when people interrupt naptime.

Class actually wasn’t half bad. Dr. Whooves was really super enthusiastic. It kinda rubbed off on me by the end of the period. Probably won’t be enough to get me to study, but I could definitely do most of the homework. Good grades without too much thought behind it. Maybe.

God, I am not looking forward to this semester. Like, at all.

I decide to look for my locker. It can’t hurt to have a place to put my books. Heavy backpacks lead to severe scoliosis later on in life. At least that’s what my grandpa tells me. I’m going to take his word as gold because he is later on in life, back surgeries be damned.

I’m weaving through the hallway. My locker is on the second floor, number 843. Gotta find the stairs and ascend the tower. Meanwhile, I people watch. That sounds kinda creepy, but it’s a totally normal human thing.

Like I pass for a normal human.

Well, neither does anyone else here, apparently.

Getting lost in staring at other people, I clash heads with someone. Books go flying and I fall to the floor. For a moment, I just stare at the ceiling, spread-eagled on the tile. I’m just great at making friends, aren’t I? Send one girl off to prepare some sort of “new kid” ritual, sneeze on another girl’s boobs, things actually went decently well with Rainbow Dash, and now I have caused a ruckus before third period.

I’ve probably been staring at the fluorescent lights for a while when someone sticks their head over mine. Has she been talking to me the whole time?

“Hey, you alright down there?”

I blink a few times to get the spots out of my eyes. Looking directly at light is not a good idea, kids. Standing above me is a blonde girl wearing a cowboy hat. Huh. That and what I assume was a Southern drawl in her voice points to Canterlot’s resident farm girl. At least she has normal colored hair.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Did you know this school has a beautiful ceiling?”

She glances up before shaking her head and chuckling. “I suppose it does. You fine after that tumble? I’m sorry I didn’t see you there.”

“It’s all good. Didn’t see you either.”

I now realize she is wearing a skirt and I’m lying right beneath her. Yeah, no. I like ladies, but I consider myself a gentleman. Or at least, not a complete asshole. I quickly jump to my feet, popping my back in the process. “Were those my books or yours?” I ask.

“I reckon they were yours.” She motions down to a stack of large crate with an apple painted on the side. “I was only carryin’ these,” she continues.

“That’s an odd place to carry your books,” I say. “How many classes can you take in this place?”

She outright laughs at that. “Nah, I’m haulin’ these to the cafeteria.”

“And that would be… where?”

She points behind me. “Back there a few and to the right. Why? You new here?”

“About as new as they get.”

“Well, let me welcome you to Canterlot High! I’m Applejack.”

The temptation to make a joke about cereal is pretty high, but I’m just gonna lay off on making fun of people’s names. Especially considering this girl could probably straight up break me. I mean she’s hauling what has to be 250 pounds without breaking a sweat. “I’m Alex. So, what’s the delivery to the cafeteria?”

“Granny Smith needs these here ingredients for lunch today.”

“Granny Smith being…?”

“Well, shucks, she’s just about the best cook in Canterlot. And I’m not just saying that ‘cause she’s my granny. You’ll see once it gets to be lunch.”

As if on cue, my stomach growls. We both look down at it and she starts chuckling. Without saying a word, she cracks the top off one of the crates and pulls an apple from it. Tossing it to me, she picks up the crates. “It was a pleasure makin’ your acquaintance, Alex, but I’ve got to get goin’ here. Granny’s probably fixin’ for these ingredients right about now. I’m sure I’ll be seein’ you at Pinkie Pie’s party.”

I wave as she walks down the hall before I realize something.

“Hey, Applejack!”

She stops and looks over her shoulder. “Where’re the stairs?” I ask.

Applejack laughs before saying, “You’re just plumb green, aren’t ya? End of the hall behind ya to the left.”

“Sweet, thanks.”

Turning around, I see a sign that points to the stairs. At least, I assume so. It’s a sign with a graphic of stairs and an arrow pointing to a door. It can’t get much more clear than that, right?

As I’m walking and eating probably the most delicious apple I’ve ever had, I can’t help but wonder. Are all the girls in this school really really attractive? Like, so far everyone I’ve run into has been mega hot. I’m not complaining, far from it, but there’s not even that super awkward girl with the glasses, weird bangs, and hair tied up in a bun. Catching a couple of glances from other kids as I head to the stairs, they all look out of my league.

Or am I just that desperate for human contact?

Did Applejack say party?