Sunset Shimmer climbed the final staircase of Canterlot Castle’s Royal Wing toward Celestia’s room. She had gone over all her notes in her head—what to say, what to do, when to smile, when to laugh. Something about the walk kept her nerves at bay, but the long hallway leading to the door itself never failed to stir up the jitters.

She always talked big about being Princess Celestia’s star pupil, but the truth was, the very idea of being near Celestia downright terrified her. It was a good kind of terrified though—the exciting kind of terrified, the it’s-really-important-and-she-wanted-to-learn-everything-she-could-and-make-Celestia-proud kind of terrified.

If only it wasn’t so… terrifying.

Stone Wall, Celestia’s personal guard, stood tall and proud beside the double doors to Celestia’s room. Something about his stalwart posture and forward gaze always comforted Sunset. It was almost like he was her personal guard, too.

He smiled and nodded her way before returning to his thousand-yard stare at the wall opposite him.

Sunset smiled back. Action and reaction. He was a Royal Guard, not Celestia. She could make nice with him without thinking, just like anypony else.

What was it like being a Royal Guard? All that standing around. She certainly couldn’t handle that. She’d be bored to death.

Nah, she preferred being the one guarded rather than the one doing the guarding. What if she became important enough one day to have her own Royal Guard escort? That would be so cool!

“You going in?” he said, strong and bassy like how she pictured a boulder would speak.

Everything about his actions went against protocol, Sunset knew, but they sort of had a thing between them like that—an unspoken agreement that they could joke about silly things and do stuff they weren’t supposed to if the other didn’t tattle. It didn’t help stymie the blush that shot to her cheeks, though.

“Oh uh, yeah. Just, um, you know. Eh heh…”

She swallowed her grin and knocked on Celestia’s door. Immediately, the nervous jitters returned, and a weak smile danced onto her face as if strung up by an inexperienced marionettist.

“Come in,” Celestia called.

A heavenly windchime-like tinkling met Sunset’s ears as a magical golden glow seeped out from the crack between the doors, washing left and right over them like water filling a basin. The magic trickled down over the doors’ sweeping silver handles and turned them, giving the impression of wings taking flight, and the doors swung inward in welcome.

The first thing that always caught Sunset’s attention was the chandelier—the way it sparkled in the sunlight streaming in from the open balcony to spray rainbows across the ceiling. The plastered ceiling was molded into concentric rings resembling ivy that wound and wended outward to look down from every corner of the room. The vines themselves and choice outlines of its leaves were inlaid with silver to sparkle in the light and catch the eye just so.

And catch Sunset’s eye it did, every time she entered. She had the habit of picking a new vine to journey along with each teatime session, half out of curiosity as to where it would lead, half to tamp down the jitters and keep herself from bolting.

Today’s particular vine led her toward the back left corner, where her eyes made the logical leap to the cornices, etched in a way so as to continue the ivy motif, and down the corner column to the chair rail. She followed it leftward, dancing among the fine china and silverware situated like set pieces along the side table that dominated the left wall, on the hunt to pick out some little detail she hadn’t yet noticed about Celestia’s chambers. There were little hearts carved into the wood under the rim of the table, whatever that part was called.

But no matter the path Sunset's eyes took, each and every one of them eventually drew her toward the center of the room, where Princess Celestia sat at her tea table, cleared of everything but a scroll she mused over. The calm smile on her face when her eyes met Sunset’s could have stilled an army.

“Good afternoon, Sunset.” Celestia had taken off her peytral and tiara, an act she did out of familiarity and to foster a sense of casualness to their meetings. Honestly, it only made Sunset more nervous. Not that she’d ever say.

“Good afternoon, Princess Celestia. Did your meeting with the Director of Weather Coordination go well?” From her saddlebags, she unloaded her books in neat stacks, organized by subject, on the waiting tea table.

Celestia chuckled in that perfect way only she could. “It did. Mrs. April Showers can be a bit disorganized at times, but she is without equal when it comes to reconciling weather conflicts.”

“That’s great to hear.” Sunset plopped down on the pillow opposite Celestia, and her nervous smile went giddy. “I can’t wait to show you everything I’ve learned this week.”

Celestia hmmed, her visible eye sweeping across the stacks of books before she lowered her head. She magicked Sunset’s books aside and set her smile on Sunset.

“You know more than anypony that I want to hear all about how you’re doing in class, Sunset. But before that, I would like to hear how you are doing.”

And there went Sunset’s giddiness, scampering off with its tail between its legs. She shifted her weight from one forehoof to the other.

“W-what do you mean?”

“I mean how are you doing?” She drew her tea set from the table beside the balcony and set it between them. “Outside of class.”

Both hooves on the floor. Sunset’s heart racketed in her chest like one of those ball-and-string paddles. She hadn’t prepared for this sort of question.

“Oh, um, great!”

“Wonderful. And how is your friend Coppertone? You two keeping out of trouble, I hope?” She poured a cup of tea and offered it to Sunset.

Ah, pony feathers. Not the tea. Anything but the tea. That loathsome, vile, bitter excuse of a beverage better reserved for watering the plants when Celestia wasn’t looking. If Sunset had her way, they’d dump it all in the nearest volcano and wash their hooves of it.

That said, she accepted it graciously and without question.

“Of course,” she said. “Trouble couldn’t find us if it tried.”

It was a lie, of course. The polite sort of lie, though—the kind ponies told each other out of formality. The kind she was taught to say as a little filly, so as to never impose.

Celestia chuckled. She knew it was a lie, too.

“Oh, Sunset. You don’t have to be like that with me. Tell me, what sort of mischief did you two get into this week?” She poured her own cup and lifted it to her lips, but held it there expectantly, eyes on Sunset.

Sunset's mouth suddenly felt as if full of cotton. Was Celestia… gossiping?

Was she allowed to do that? Wait, no. What kind of stupid thought was that? Of course she was. She was Princess Celestia. Like, it wasn’t wrong of her, but she had never brought up this sort of small talk before.

Sunset rubbed the back of her head. “Um, I really don’t know.”

Did Mrs. Doily Do’s Home Ec class count?

“Oh, come now, Sunset. Surely there’s at least one interesting thing that’s happened to you this week that isn’t schoolwork.”

Well… there was Doppler, now that she thought about it. Those robin’s-egg-blue eyes oh my gosh.

Celestia let out a full-bodied laugh. “Now that’s the face of a pony I know is hiding something.”

Sunset blushed even harder. Curse her bright coat and how it couldn’t hide a blush to save her life. Well, she found out. Might as well get it over with.

“Well… I met this stallion.”

“Ah, yes,” Celestia said, placing her cup on its saucer. “I was wondering when you would meet a certain somepony.”

“It’s not like that,” Sunset said quickly. “When I say I met him, it was more I was shoved in his face and left for dead.”

“Coppertone, I presume?”

“Y-yeah.”

“And are you upset she put you in a situation you weren’t comfortable with?” If Celestia was anything, she was both accurate and to the point when it benefited everypony, something Sunset always admired about her.

“Well, it’s not like I’m upset. I just… wish she’d sometimes give me a little space, or…” She was about to say something along the lines of “not talk sexually about you,” but that might have raised an eyebrow or two. Celestia might have grown a third eyebrow just to raise that one, too.

Celestia idly flipped through the first few pages of Sunset’s The Nature of the Arcane. A smile played on her face, as if reliving a memory.

“Or?” she asked.

“Or, just, you know…” Sunset rubbed her foreleg and looked away, not sure how to finish that thought.

“Don’t hold how she acts against her too much, Sunset. Ponies like that, those who are comfortable enough to be their true self in front of you and want to help you be the best you can be, those are the friends you should cherish the most. And from what little you’ve told me about her, she sounds like quite the pony.” A sip of tea. “You’re lucky to have her as a friend. But do keep in mind, if what she does or says truly bothers you, be sure to bring it up. It's important that you establish boundaries.”

Boundaries. Now there was something Sunset didn't think Copper had at all, much less in spades. Not that Sunset felt Copper wouldn't respect them if she asked, but more that Copper's lack of them would make it difficult to not stumble over them—or plow right through them, more accurately—this morning's lunch line conversation a prime example. Sometimes, it felt like Copper was too carefree to be bogged down by things like setting boundaries. It's what made all of Copper's, um… shenanigans, as she'd call them, so prevalent.

But Copper was a good friend at heart, and it showed in every smile, every word of encouragement, and yes, every dick joke that came out of her mouth. Or in her m—

No, no. Dang it, brain. No Copperisms, especially in front of Celestia. Sunset swore that mare could weasel in a crass joke without even being present. Case in point.

Sunset blinked and gave Celestia a glance, hoping she hadn't noticed that little bit of mental gymnastics. Thankfully, she seemed preoccupied with the array of books Sunset had brought. Or maybe Celestia just wanted her to think that.

Where were they? Right, boundaries. Boundaries and good friends and being comfortable and truest selves around each other.

If that wasn't its own mystery and a half… It still boggled Sunset's mind that Copper even gave her the time of day, much less actively hung out with her.

That mare could crack a joke with the best and the worst of them, but it wasn’t like Sunset didn’t have her own ingloriously long list of issues. Somehow, Copper saw past all that, though.

Nopony else bothered putting up with her. That, or they only did so to try and earn some sort of favor with Celestia or the teachers, and Sunset wasn’t about to be taken advantage of like that.

“So what about this stallion?” Celestia said after a moment’s silence. “Does he have a name?”

“Um, Doppler. He’s on the lacrosse team.” She looked up at Celestia, then at her books. “Do we really have to talk about this?”

Celestia shook her head. “If you’re not comfortable talking about it, I won’t press the issue. But there is nothing to be ashamed of in liking another pony. Romantic relationships are natural, and you should take the time to explore them when you are ready.”

Sunset flattened her ears back. “I don’t think I ever want to be ready.”

“No?” Celestia had idly regarded something out her window, but swiveled an eye back at those words.

“There’s too much for me to learn still. I want to keep learning magic. Besides, I already have a friend, because you practically made me make a friend.”

“I encouraged you to make a friend, Sunset. I didn’t force you to make one.”

Sunset raised an eyebrow at her. “You strongly suggested, then. And with you, that’s practically an order.”

Celestia chuckled. She dusted off the corner of the table with her wingtip, not that any amount of dust would have the audacity to defile this immaculate place. “There’s nothing wrong with having a friend. And in my experience, it’s better to have more than just one. You’ll find that different ponies have unique interests and beliefs, and we can all learn much from each other’s perspectives.”

“Making friends is too much of a hassle.”

“Hmm… if you were to try, I’m sure you would find it worth the hassle.”

Sunset shrugged. “Not likely. I’d really rather just focus on school.”

“All work and no play makes Sunset Shimmer a dull pony.” She swirled the tea bag around in her cup.

“I’m not dull.” Sunset flicked an ear, hoping Celestia didn’t mind her tone of voice. She might have said that a little too flatly.

Celestia laughed. She set aside her tea and looked Sunset in the eye. “I should think not. You’re one of the brightest minds I’ve ever taught, Sunset. But book knowledge isn’t the only thing worth learning in Equestria.”

“Yeah, yeah, friendship is magic and all that.” Sunset put her hooves on the table and brought her eyes level with Celestia. “I like working. I have fun working. And learning.”

She threw her hooves in the air, then returned them to the cup of tea before her. It was then she remembered the tea was there at all, and she took a courtesy sip, trying not to make a face.

“Honestly,” Sunset continued. “I’m perfectly happy without any more friends. Or, uh…” She blushed, her ears falling askance. “Partners.”

“Sunset.” Celestia’s was a gentle voice, gentler than usual. It harbored no ill will or directive, but nonetheless drew Sunset’s ears forward. “Making friends and falling in love don’t ever have to get in the way of your ambitions. Just like studying to become the best you can be, friends and family—those you are born to and those you choose for yourself—are there to complement you and what’s important to you.”

“You don’t need friends to be better at magic.” A heat rose to Sunset’s cheeks. She knew her words went against Celestia’s, went against everything she was taught as a filly about manners. But she was also taught to stand up for herself, even in the face of authority if she believed herself truly right. Even Celestia had pushed her toward that.

“Is Coppertone truly your friend?”

Sunset was taken aback. “What? Of course! She’s my best friend. She’s my… my only friend. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

“And you two go over your notes for class, don’t you?”

“Well, yeah, we’re in the same class together. But I haven’t personally needed her help.” Sunset puffed out her chest. “I’m the only student to have an A in Arcanonaturamancology in ten years. Like, a real A.”

Celestia closed her eyes and dipped her nose ever so slightly. Her smile never wavered, but the sight sent a wave of dread down Sunset’s shoulders. This was Celestia’s thinking face, the one she wore whenever they were at odds.

“I thought we’re supposed to go over my schoolwork in these meetings.” Sunset took another sip of tea to smooth over her blatant change in subject. “Not my social life.”

Celestia opened her eyes and fixed them on Sunset. What went on inside her head? What crazy labyrinth wound through that skull of hers?

“Sunset, I have a new assignment for you.”

Sunset cocked an ear aside. “What? But we haven’t even gone over my schoolwork yet.”

“I’m afraid this assignment doesn’t require any of that.”

No like, seriously, what? What did she mean by that?

Sunset’s thoughts must have shown on her face, because Celestia chuckled and lit her horn, watching as all of Sunset’s books slipped back into her saddlebags.

“I want you to ask this Doppler out.”

“Oh, okay. I mean I gue—YOU WANT ME TO WHAT?” She almost knocked her tea cup off the table, for how hard she slammed her hooves down.

Celestia, for all her social graces—and clear insanity—didn’t so much as flinch at the outburst. That tiny smile of hers crept onto her face and nothing more.

“I would like for you… oh!” Celestia put a hoof to her chest and laughed. “Oh, heavens, Sunset. Excuse me. I would like for you to talk to him. Make a friend.”

“But…” Sunset didn’t know what to say. Making a friend was certainly far less eyebrow raising than asking him out on a date holy crap why did she think that’s what Celestia meant was she crazy? But still, she splayed her hooves on the table and looked pleadingly into Celestia’s eyes. “I-I have so much work to keep up with. Not to mention I have to stay on top of my volunteer work with the soup kitchen and help the band, and clean the Home Ec classroom, and—”

“What’s wrong with the Home Ec classroom?”

Sunset blanched. “Uh, nothing! Just, um, part of the curriculum.”

A tiny grin poked up the corner of Celestia’s lips.

“What?”

Celestia bowed her head and chuckled. “Sunset,” again with the soft yet commanding voice, “you are hereby excused from all classes and their respective homework forthwith until you have completed this assignment.”

Sunset leaned over the table. “But—”

“Your assignment begins now.”

“But, but…”

Celestia looked at a clock on her mantelpiece, which read five-thirty.

“If I recall correctly, there is a lacrosse scrimmage tonight at six. If you hurry, you can get a head start on your assignment.” She winked. “Take Coppertone with you.”

“But but but…!”

Celestia neatly buckled Sunset’s saddlebags closed, tossed them over Sunset’s back, and cinched them into place. She then lifted Sunset toward the door and waved.

“Have fun!”

Before Sunset knew what had happened, she stood staring at the bas relief of a rising sun on Celestia’s door. She turned her slack jaw toward Stone Wall.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “You look like you just flunked a test.”

• • •

“And you don’t have to go to class until you do this?” Copper asked.

She practically skipped beside Sunset on their way to the lacrosse field. It had taken some convincing to get her away from the hoofball game and all those “tongue-lolling” stallions, but the use of “Tall, Tan, and Handsome” and “make a friend” in the same sentence had quite the effect on her.

“What were her words again?” she asked.

Sunset stared into the distance beyond the lacrosse field, her ears fallen slack. “‘You are hereby excused from all classes and their respective homework forthwith,’” she droned, “‘until you have completed this assignment.’”

It still felt like a dream. And by dream, she meant nightmare. No school? No learning? How was she supposed to become a better student without learning? She was going to fall so far behind in her courses! This was literally the worst thing ever.

“This is literally the best thing ever!” Copper laughed. “Do you have any idea how many ponies would give their hind leg for that sort of assignment? Just go fuckin’ hang out and shit?”

“But I really don’t want to do this.”

Copper raised an eyebrow at her. “Are you telling me you don’t wanna be his friend, Mrs. Just Gonna Stop Talking Now? Princess Celestia might not have told you to ask him out ask him out, but this is totally your golden ticket to. And even if you really don’t, there’s worse things than being told to talk to somepony. You’re literally doing it right now with me. Besides, you can always just say you did it and it was whatever if you really don’t wanna go any further with it.”

She could. But that would be disingenuous. Well, more than that. It would be a flat-out lie, and she couldn’t lie to Celestia. Like, not a real lie, anyway.

“But the best part,” Copper continued, bumping shoulders with Sunset. “She really wanted me to be the third wheel for this little friendship soirée? She asked by name? Hah! This day keeps getting better and better.”

Third wheel… Already implying it was a date. Was Copper really this insistent on matchmaking her? Was this what normal ponies did?

“Please don’t do anything embarrassing,” Sunset said.

“Sunset, I’m not going to do anything that embarrasses me. I can promise you that. But I can’t help what embarrasses you.” She turned a big grin toward Sunset, the kind that meant all sorts of unruly ideas tumbled through that head of hers. “You know, she’s probably gonna grade you on how well you ask him to join our little friend group. You think it’s all just pretense to try and get you laid?” she added with just enough honey in her voice.

Sunset rolled her eyes. “I said I’m not interested in that.”

“Uh huh.” Copper stared at her for a moment, then shrugged. “Hey, more stallion for me, then. And if you’re good, I might even let you sit in the chair.”

Sunset screwed up her face in thought. “What does that even mean?”

Copper laughed. “I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

She bumped shoulders with Sunset and held her weight there, a comfort that Sunset couldn’t help but press back into and cherish its warmth.

This. This right here. No weird assignments to make a new friend, no sidelining the things that Sunset actually wanted in life. Just this simple, quiet being with her best friend, Copper. That’s all the friendship she needed.

Their little “cuddle huddle,” as Copper called it, rounded the track for the lacrosse field, and Coppertone snagged an abandoned scarf off the track’s chain-link fence: a baby-blue-and-white-striped thing with “CSGU” emblazoned in gold down either end. It even had knotted tassels and it was just so adorable.

Copper threw it around herself in a classic pull-through style, and the smile she carelessly tossed Sunset’s way brought a jealous flush to her cheeks. It didn’t quite go with Coppertone’s tan coat and deep-green eyes, but that pony could make papier-mâché look like the hottest new fashion.

“If they forgot it, they didn’t deserve it,” was her defense, and, well, Sunset couldn’t really argue.

The stands were packed with fellow students sporting pennants and scarves and other paraphernalia “claiming their allegiance” to the Canterlot Cavaliers, as the phrase went. The school pride swelling around Sunset got a knot forming in her stomach. She felt exposed without any CSGU stuff on. Oh, why hadn’t she seen that scarf first?

Across the way, the Hoofington Horseshoes’ crowd sported their trademark black and gold. They raised banners that read crude, unimaginative phrases like “Canterlot Cava-bads” and “It’s baby blue for a reason.” The general mumble she could make out sounded more like jeering at her crowd than cheering for their own team.

Her crowd returned the favor in the form of their own banners and chants. They stamped their hooves whenever their team had the ball, and Sunset awkwardly stamped along with them, never sure when to stop or start on her own.

Copper, however, was lost in the fervor. “Soil’s the only thing you’re good at plowing!” and “You chase that ball like you chase your sisters!” were among her many colorful phrases that brought Sunset’s head low and her eyes darting around, hoping nopony heard.

The more Sunset opened her ears, though, the more she realized everypony was saying things like that, and the more she realized she was the weird one here. Ponies really got into their sports, it seemed.

As for the lacrosse game itself, Sunset couldn’t really make out the ups and downs. She knew the basics, having played soccer in her filly years, but any strategies beyond “chase the ball like a swarm of bees” were beyond her. The only thing she could really tell was that their team wasn’t doing too well.

She didn’t have to see the 1-7 on the scoreboard to know that.

The Hoofington Horseshoes were all pretty scary looking. Bigger, faster, stronger than the more academic Canterlot Cavaliers.

She recognized Page Turner by his white coat and shaggy grey mane, and she could pick out a few others by face. Doppler, though. Oh gosh.

He, like the other Cavaliers, looked ragged and weary. Sweat matted his mane and coat, and that thousand-yard stare must have settled in well before they arrived.

But still… he made it look good.

There was an effortlessness to his movement, some sort of deep inspiration or something that kept him going despite the hopelessness of it all. There was a split second when one of the Canterlot stallions had the ball that he glanced into the crowd. Their eyes met, and Sunset swore he smiled at her.

Page Turner scored a bone-rattling tackle on one of the Horseshoes, and the crowd went wild. The referee blew his whistle, calling a foul, and the crowd’s excitement turned to immediate boos and bloodlust.

Sunset flattened her ears back and leaned in toward Coppertone. “Why’s everypony being so mean?”

“It’s a rivalry game,” Copper shouted over the chaos. “There’s no reason behind it. We hate their guts just because.” She turned back to the game and put a hoof to her lips. “Yeah, let’s go! Show ’em how to really play with balls, Willow Wisp!

“It’s funny ’cause he’s gay,” she whispered to Sunset.

Sunset shied away from her. She had never heard Copper say anything remotely inappropriate like that. Well, she had, but like, not the mean-spirited sort of inappropriate.

All of this was a little too much for her. She decided to quietly watch and enjoy the game on her own terms.

For what it was worth, she did have fun. At times, she found herself cheering her heart out along with the crowd—on big saves, goals, and steals—and part of her relished watching Doppler run up and down the field.

He still looked ragged, but there was a light in his eyes that wasn’t there before, and he turned it her way with little peeks and glances whenever he had the chance. It got a smile out of her.

The referee blew the final whistle to call the match, and Sunset wilted at the final score of 6-10. That was a heck of a comeback attempt, though, and to think three of those were Doppler practically by himself. His smile seemed to say he felt good about it, too.

The Horseshoes crowd rumbled out of the stands, hooping and hollering along with their team, banners raised high.

“Yeah, go back to that shithole where you came from!” Copper shouted over the Canterlot crowd’s disappointed murmur.

“Copper,” Sunset said, ears flattened back. “The game’s over.”

Copper flipped her mane out of her eyes. “I know. I’m just callin’ it like I see it.”

“Yeah, but being a jerk isn’t like you.”

Copper raised an eyebrow at her. “You’ve never been to Hoofington, have you? Honestly, ‘shithole’ does that place too much justice.” She redid the knot of her scarf and threw the tails over her shoulder. “Either way, blind loyalty to my school is blind loyalty to my school.”

Sunset blinked. That sounded like a conversation and a half’s worth of unpacking, but she let it slide.

“I mean, okay. I get that, I guess, but it just doesn’t make sense.”

“Yeah it does. What if I called A-chem stupid?” Copper’s “gotcha” grin was contagious, and it spread to Sunset.

“Then I’d call you stupid.”

“Exactly.” She flank bumped Sunset, and they shared a laugh. “Now come on. Let’s go find your new totally-just-a-friend.”

Oh yeah. That. There was that stupid blush again that really needed to go away. She was hoping Copper had forgotten about that.

“I know that face,” Copper said. “There’s no way I’m letting you off the hook, no matter how hard you strain your wishing muscles.”

Heh. They really must have been best friends if Copper could read her like that.

“Come on,” Copper said. She pushed Sunset by the flank toward the near corner of the field. “They’ll walk by this way and we can get his attention.”

Sunset all but ground her hooves into the grass in defiance. Oh dear. Copper was really going to make her go through with this, wasn’t she?

The lacrosse team had corralled in front of their goal, going over whatever it was teams went over after a game. There was a lot of solemn nodding of heads. A quick team chant, and they hobbled toward the path leading back to main campus, where Sunset and Copper stood waiting.

Doppler caught sight of them and made an effort to find himself toward the tail end of the pack. He had his stick slung over his shoulder and his helmet dangling from its net like a bindle. A proud but weary smile graced his face, and his mane was matted over his eyes. He looked about two seconds from collapsing on top of her. Secretly though, that wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world.

“Hey,” he said. “You showed up, huh?”

“Uh, heh.” Sunset swung her hoof in a can-do manner. “Yep. That’s what I do. Show up.”

Great, already looking like an idiot.

“Well, it’s better than not showing up.” He nodded at Copper. “And you’re Just Gonna Stop Talking Now’s friend from the cafeteria.”

Copper stuck out a hoof for shaking. “Third Wheel. Pleasure to meet you.”

He raised an eyebrow and took her hoof hesitantly. “‘Third Wheel’?”

“Don’t mind her,” Sunset said, pushing Copper aside. “She’s Coppertone, my best friend.”

“Yep!” Copper pushed back. “And just like any best friend, I’m here to say all sorts of embarrassing things about her at the worst possible moments.”

“Copper,” Sunset hissed.

“Coppertone sounds a little more like an actual name.” His eyes flicked between the two. “So why ‘Third Wheel’?”

“She’s not Third Wheel,” Sunset insisted.

Copper gave him that trademark up-to-no-good Coppertone smirk and then had the audacity to round it on her. Not even five seconds into their conversation and she was already hellbent on being unbearable. She gave an innocent shrug as the most godforsaken preamble to whatever shenanigans she had lined up.

“I don’t know. Why Third Wheel? Why not Third Wheel, Sunset?”

If looks could kill, Sunset would have happily served a lifetime sentence in the Canterlot dungeons. Part of her wished they could, just so Copper would stop being so embarrassing for once.

“What she means is,” Sunset said. “I… wanted to ask if you, uh… wanted to hang out with us? I guess?”

Please say no. Please say no. This was so embarrassing. Please say—

“What, like, right now?” He gave his lacrosse stick a glance. “Uh, that’s kind of out of nowhere, but sure, I guess. Just lemme, like, go shower and stuff. I’ll meet you in the cafeteria in half an hour?”

Wait, did he actually say yes? “Um, okay?” Sunset said.

He smiled and oh my gosh. “Alright. I’ll see you there,” he said and turned to catch up with the rest of the team.

“You see?” Copper said beside her. “When you don’t act all brain-dead for two seconds, you can have literally anypony you want.”

“Oh, can it, would you? You and your matchmaker brain.” But, like, really? That actually happened? Was that really how making friends worked?

Copper put her hoof on Sunset's shoulder. “Sunset, you might say you don’t want to do this and that you don't want this to be an actual date, but the look on your face every time you see him and all this waffling back and forth you’ve been doing… There’s attraction there, and as much as I am and will poke fun, because your reactions are priceless, that’s not something to be embarrassed about. Really. That excitement and goodness is something you should be embracing.”

“I…”

“Sunset,” Copper said. She gave Sunset a smile—simple and true, the one that always instilled an unexplainable confidence in Sunset. "Really."

Sunset laid her ears back. Maybe Copper was right, but it didn't stop all this from feeling embarrassing.

“Now that said…” Copper said, twisting that smile into a grin primed and ready to poke the fun she just espoused. “You still haven’t told him your name.”

Oh, ponyfeathers.

Copper laughed. “That look on your face. It’s the best.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I’m sure you’re going to enjoy today.”

“Oh, I most definitely will.”

With nothing in particular to do, they headed for the cafeteria to chit chat while he got ready. Claiming she wasn’t hungry enough for dinner, Copper scored herself an ice-cream cone—a double scoop of macadamia nut and neapolitan. Because she was super weird like that.

She kept giving Sunset bedroom eyes at their two-pony table in the back corner, a supposed pre-date workout she claimed Sunset needed to practice. She was so weird sometimes. If Sunset ever started giving somepony lovey-dovey eyes like that, she prayed Celestia would come from on high and smite her.

What was the point of all this, anyway? As much as she believed Copper, she still really didn’t want to do this. Yeah, he was cute and had a pretty smile and wavy mane and all that, and part of her couldn’t help wanting to be around him and just stare into those gorgeous robin’s-egg-blue eyes.

Sure, she wanted to settle down with a stallion and have foals and all that other mushy stuff mares always dreamed of doing. But that was later—way later—after she had finished her education and established a career for herself. Doing it now would only get in the way.

None of it would help her be a better student. Her grades wouldn’t improve because of some stallion. Not that they could really get any better anyway, she had to admit with some pride. There was a reason she was Celestia’s personal student, after all.

But really, if anything, this would only detract from her perfect grades and her track toward valedictorian and all the scholastic endeavors she had planned after CSGU. Why in Equestria did Celestia want her to do this so badly?

Thirty minutes after the game, almost on the dot, Doppler strolled into the cafeteria. He waved at them from the check-in counter and made a beeline for them once the check-in mare let him through.

“Hey,” he said, stepping up to their table. He had his mane slicked back as best as a partly drying mane could be, and his coat was nappy where he had toweled off, particularly on his chest, shoulders, and the bridge of his muzzle.

Most ponies would have taken the time to smooth that out so they didn’t look ridiculous. But as ridiculous as Doppler looked, he seemed all the better for it, like he couldn’t care less and probably enjoyed the oddity of it, or at least the reactions it got from other ponies.

Oh, who was she kidding? She didn’t want to wait until she was older. This guy was too perfect.

“Sunset Shimmer,” she said.

He seemed momentarily confused, before that easy smile of his returned. He snagged a chair from a nearby table, sat down, and raised an eyebrow at her, as if waiting for an explanation.

Sunset blushed. She swore today held the record for most blushes she’d ever had in a 24-hour period, and it wasn’t even over yet.

“I, uh… That’s my name. Heh. Sunset Shimmer. I, I forgot to tell you that the last two times.”

Doppler folded back his ears, and a frown tumbled onto his face. “Oh, so your name isn’t Just Gonna Stop Talking Now?”

“I… no, sorry,” she said in what hopefully came across as sarcastic. She threw on a grin for good measure. Just act cool, the way Copper always did.

It seemed to work for how he perked one ear up and crooked the other. “Well darn. I really liked that name. Had a sort of mystery about it.”

Sunset laughed and traced little circles on the table. Don’t be brain-dead for two seconds.

“You could say that. But isn’t a sunset just as mysterious?”

“Mmm, in its own way, I guess. But I wouldn’t call it so much a mystery.”

“What would you call it then?”

“Romantic, more like.” He casually looked out the window without waiting for a reaction.

Sunset leaned back, wide-eyed. She already felt the heat rushing to her cheeks.

Did… he think this was a date? Was it? Did Sunset miss a memo somewhere or stumble over some social nuance that made it totally and unquestionably obvious?

Copper snorted and took another lick of her ice cream. “Fuckin’ hell, that’s corny.”

“Hey, there’s plenty more where that came from,” he said, smiling. “Don’t you worry.”

“I’ll be sure to pick up a barf bag on our way out.”

“Copper!” Sunset said. She was about to tell her off before Doppler laughed.

“Well then you might wanna get two,” he said.

“Oh boy. If you’re gonna start hanging out with us, I won’t have to watch my weight then, will I?” She waggled her ice-cream cone at him the way one would a rolled-up newspaper at a disobedient foal.

“Wow, and I thought I was inappropriate,” he said.

“Well, nopony ever said you weren’t.” Copper gave him those bedroom eyes she had tried getting Sunset to practice.

Sunset looked between them, and her ears fell back. For a supposed third wheel, Copper wasn’t acting very third wheel-y.

“Copper?” Sunset said.

“Yeah?”

“Can we talk?” She pulled Copper aside and whispered, “Can you lay off with the flirting some? This is supposed to be a friend thing for me, not another tally mark on your lipstick case.”

Copper quirked an eyebrow at that and underlined it with a respectful smirk. “Wow, that’s some fire coming from you.”

“Well, yeah…” She looked away. She didn’t like getting snippy with Copper. It just… it felt weird and wrong in its own ways. But still: “Celestia gave me an assignment, and even though I don’t really want to, I need to at least try, right?”

“Don’t want to? Uh-huh. Yeah, sure.” She elbowed Sunset in the shoulder. “You keep telling yourself that.”

“Copper, I’m serious. How am I supposed to do my best if you keep being—” Sunset gestured vaguely at Copper “—this?”

Copper’s grin widened a hair. “Being my stupid, piece-of-shit self? What else am I good for? Or is there really something more going on here that you still don’t want to admit?”

“That’s not what it is.”

“Yes, it totally is!” she said, a little louder than a whisper should be. “Sunset, listen to yours—”

“Shh!” Sunset looked nervously over her shoulder at Doppler, who busied himself with the table’s salt shaker, tilting it at an angle and rolling it along its hexagonal shape so that the glass made that funny warbly sound on the laminate. Oh, he could even make silly things look good.

“You’re nervous I’m going to hit it off with him better than you are,” Copper continued in a proper whisper.

Sunset flattened back her ears and looked aside. She… Well, yes. She couldn’t stop lying to herself about it—or at least waffling about it, to use Copper’s words. She did like him. Him and that wavy mane and rugged frame and those eyes oh my gosh.

And yet here she was, too scared to admit it to herself enough to act on it. Copper’s shenanigans only complicated the matter. Frankly, the thought terrified her: the one time a stallion didn’t seem like a complete weirdo and he ended up liking Copper more, all because she couldn’t get her own stupid brain to make up its mind about something supposedly so simple.

“Sunset…” Copper rubbed a hoof up and down Sunset’s foreleg. It was warm and right and everything Sunset wanted in that contact right now. The smile on Copper’s face said more than her touch, and again like so many times before it instilled in Sunset that fledgling confidence to smile back. “No shenanigans, no bullshit: Is this a date now? Do you want it to be a date?”

Sunset took a deep breath in, then out. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

“Okay.” Copper made good on her smile and gently squeezed Sunset’s shoulder. “Then I’ll lay off. Really.”

Sunset hugged her tight. “Thanks.”

Copper let the hug last a good beat before pulling away. “But you need to tell him that, because as much as he's totally already on that page, you need to make it clear you both are. And if you screw this up, I’m totally going for it.”

She cuffed Sunset on the shoulder and winked.

Oh, that mare could find a way to ruin any sentimental moment. She turned around before saying something Copper would twist sarcastically back on her.

Doppler set the salt shaker aside. He wore a smile that danced between the two of them.

“You two done with your little powwow?”

“We are,” Copper said. She winked at him and shoved Sunset in his face.

Sunset tensed up, nose to nose with him and those eyes oh my gosh. She laughed, her breath having suddenly left her, and her legs doing their best impression of cooked spaghetti.

“We’ve really gotta stop starting our conversations like this,” he said. He casually rolled his eyes. “Not that I mind, but, you know.”

Sunset brushed her mane over her ear. “Yeah. So uh…”

She tried looking him in the eyes, but a nervous case of butterflies in her stomach had her looking at anything but him. It was hard to think with those eyes looking at her.

“Hold on. Before you finish that thought, why don’t we get some food?” He got out of his chair and jerked his head toward the cafeteria proper.

“Uh, yeah.” Sunset laughed. “That sounds like a great idea.” She watched him head down the little ramp toward the food lines. Oh, she could watch him walk all day.

“You’re doing it again,” Copper whispered. She had sidled up beside her at some point. “Stop worrying and just have fun. You’ll stop acting brain-dead if you just relax.”

“But what if I—”

Copper put a hoof up to Sunset’s lips and gave her a smile. “Stop trying so hard. Just be you. The you that you are when you’re around me.”

“I’m trying not to try so hard. Can’t you tell?”

Copper leaned in, letting that little smile twist into a sardonic grin. “Then try a little harder,” she said, and followed Doppler.

Sunset stuck her tongue out at the back of Copper’s head. Just try not to try so hard, huh? Easy for her to say, with looks like that. Sunset took a deep breath.

“Okay, Sunset,” she whispered. “You can do this. Just be yourself.” She followed them down.

There wasn’t much variety for dinner that night. The entrée line that normally fulfilled everypony’s hopes and dreams was covered in the Plastic Wrap of Shame, and a skinny pegasus lunchmare scrubbed away at whatever it was they scrubbed away at behind the line.

Pizza and hay fries it was, then.

“So,” Doppler said when they got back to their table. “What exactly brought this whole thing up, anyway?” He took a bite of his mushroom-and-olive pizza and talked while chewing.

Kinda gross. Sunset could forgive him, though, as long as he kept looking at her oh my gosh.

“What thing?” she said.

“You asking me to hang out.” He swallowed his bite of pizza and put his hooves on the table. “Actually, you know what, I’m just gonna come out and ask it. Is this an actual hang-out thing or like a date sort of thing?”

Sunset stared at him, then at Copper. Copper stared back with a reserved but expectant “come on!” in the way she raised her brow and jerked her head toward Doppler.

Sunset swallowed. It suddenly felt twenty degrees warmer.

“A, uh… a date,” she said.

It was a terrifying but liberating phrase, as if the weight of the world had been lifted off her shoulders.

That little smile on his face hesitated for a moment before widening. “Alright then,” he said and took another bite of pizza.

Sunset put her hooves on the table, huddled close to her chest. “‘Alright then’ what?”

“Alright then,” he said. He swallowed his pizza and licked tomato sauce off his hoof. “We’re on a date sort of thing.”

“Oh.” She blushed. Thirty degrees warmer now. “Alright then.”

“Don’t get too excited now,” he said. He wiped his mouth with a napkin before starting his second slice.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Copper said. “She will.”

“Copper,” Sunset said.

“Just ask her about the chair.”

“Copper!”

• • •

The rest of dinner went pretty well. “Well,” as in, Doppler hadn’t yet run off screaming into the night. The three of them left the cafeteria at around eight and wandered campus with no particular destination in mind.

Sunset had gotten an ice-cream cone on the way out. Vanilla, because she was a normal pony, unlike Copper.

“Well yeah,” Doppler said on Sunset’s left. “Everypony knows about you, as in, that you exist and all. Just, you know, you kinda keep to yourself. So no, I haven’t heard much about you other than you’re Princess Celestia’s personal student.”

They rounded the meditation garden that sprawled out in front of the science building. The flowers were in bloom, and everything smelled like happiness. Or, at least that’s how Sunset learned to describe it. She was never much for flowers or all that girly stuff—daffodils being the only exception.

“Well, CSGU isn’t that big of a university,” Copper said on Sunset’s other side. “Everypony still knows everypony else to some degree. You can’t expect me to believe that.”

“Well then what do you believe?” Doppler shot back.

Copper got that mischievous grin about her. “I believe you’re the second-best stallion on the lacrosse team.”

“Oh ho, them’s fightin’ words ’round here.” He craned his neck in front of Sunset to stare sidelong at Copper.

“Are they now?” Copper said.

“I thought he did better than Page Turner,” Sunset said between licks of her ice cream. This week had been unseasonably warm, and the heat made quick work of the “ice” part. She had to keep up if she didn’t want to share it with the ants.

“Yeah, see?” Doppler said. “Somepony was actually watching the game.” He threw his hoof around Sunset and she all but squeaked in surprise.

Copper giggled. “Yeah, because I was doing my part insulting the other team’s crowd. Everypony saw you guys weren’t doing your part in shutting them up.”

“They’re all just a bunch of idiots from Hoofington. They insult themselves just by breathing.”

Sunset took a moment from her ice cream. Sheesh, was everypony so up about this rivalry thing? Why couldn’t they all just get along?

“Must be even more insulting losing to them, then,” Copper said. She turned away so she could do her over-the-shoulder “gotcha!” smile and played with the tassels of her scarf for effect.

“Is she always like this?” he asked Sunset.

“Always,” Sunset said flatly. “You give her an inch and she’ll take a mile.”

She froze. Oops. No, please don’t.

Please do, said the grin plastered across Copper’s face. “Insert dick joke here,” she said before pursing her lips and looking away innocently.

Sunset rolled her eyes. Typical Copper. Couldn’t go five minutes without saying something inappropriate. Implying a dirty joke was a step removed from making one, at least.

Doppler snickered. “‘Insert…’”

Well, she couldn’t help him cracking a joke about it. Sunset put a hoof to her mouth to stifle a laugh. She accidentally snorted, and there went any hope for composure.

All three of them belted out a round of laughter. Sunset held onto Copper for balance. When she regained control of herself, she wiped away a tear.

Copper wore what seemed like a frown trying its best not to be a smile. “You would have totally yelled at me if I said that.”

“Yeah, I would have.”

“Oh, so you’re giving your new coltfriend special privilege, huh?”

“Yeah, I—” Sunset’s voice caught in her throat. Her face went redder than a cherry, and she almost dropped her ice-cream cone.

Doppler laughed behind her.

“She didn’t deny it!” Coppertone said. She tail-flicked Sunset on the flank.

“Ow! Would you stop that?” She practically tackled Copper when bumping shoulders to get into girl-talk range. “You’re embarrassing me,” she whisper-hissed.

“Relax.” Copper pushed back. She whispered in Sunset’s ear. “I know what I’m doing.”

Sunset grumbled to herself. “Yeah, being annoying.”

She threw her scowl Doppler’s way, and it disappeared the moment she saw that smiling face of his. He seemed to be enjoying himself, staring at the sky as it washed orange with the sunset.

Copper pushed back against Sunset. She jerked her head his way and waggled her eyebrows.

“What?” Sunset asked.

Copper rolled her eyes. “Do I have to do it a third time today?” she whisper-hissed. “Talk to him. I’ve been carrying this conversation for you since we started eating.”

Before Sunset had a chance to argue, Copper shoved her at Doppler. She stumbled to a halt almost nose to nose with him for the too-many-th time today, and hand in hand with that all-too-embarrassing situation, her words made themselves scarce. She looked back to Copper for a lifeline, but stopped short.

Copper was gone. It was just her, Doppler, and the sudden return of the butterflies in her stomach, doing loop-de-loops and corkscrews and all sorts of maneuvers that got her stomach queasy and her legs noodly.

Doppler seemed just as confused. “Well, she was off in a hurry.”

“W-where’d she go?” Did she teleport? Just left her high and dry?

“Teleported. I assumed you knew where.” He smiled. “I take it that’s a no?”

“I…” Oh, she was so going to get an earful later.

“Heh. Well, anyway,” Doppler said. He took an idle swat at a tree branch encroaching over the sidewalk. “So what’s this chair that I’m supposed to ask you about?”

A nervous heat rose to her cheeks. “Honestly… I have no idea.”

Doppler watched her for a moment, then chuckled. “So it’s just one of Copper’s jokes, then. You really need to loosen up. You’re so uptight.”

“I am not uptight! I’m just… cautious. I’ve been hurt before.”

“Fair enough.” He gave her that casual smile of his that sent a flutter through her heart and looked back out at the field. “So then what are we doing, Cautious?”

Her cheeks burned at the silly nickname, and she couldn’t tamp down the stupid smile that came with it. Was he always so Coppertone-y, too?

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you asked me out on a not-date-turned-actual-date, so I assume you had something in mind for us to do.”

Sunset folded back her ears. “Oh… Right. Uh…”

“You have no idea what you wanna do, do you?” Again, he threw that casual smile her way and those blue eyes oh my gosh.

She started playing with her mane.

“Wow,” he said. “And here I thought Miss Cautious had everything planned out to the littlest detail.”

“Why would you think that?” She squared up with him. Even at her tallest, she barely came up to his chin.

“Because if there is one thing that I know about you, it’s how many notes you take. You’re the only pony in school who has an entire saddlebag’s worth of stuff for just that arcano-whatever class you take.”

She stared at him, at a loss.

“Tuesday, Thursday, 9:30,” he said. “Room 110 with Professor Wizened Reed.” He jerked his head at an imaginary schoolroom behind him. “I’ve got Incantations with Professor Vociferous across the hall, same time.”

“Oh. I’ve, uh, never noticed you there, I guess.”

Well, that was sort of a lie. She had seen him, as in, when walking to and from class she had walked past and probably said hi once or twice. But she had never actually looked at him, looked into those gorgeous eyes of his and had the courage to say anything relevant or, uh… coherent.

He shrugged. “Eh, it happens. Like I said, you’re the princess’s personal student. Not like ponies aren’t going to notice you when you’re around. That coat of yours is hard to miss, too.”

Sunset wasn’t sure how to respond to that. On one hoof, he was right. Being Celestia’s student would make her a sort-of celebrity, but on the other, she didn’t really feel herself in any sort of limelight for it. She was just another pony in the hallway.

“Plus,” he continued. “That outgoing, type-A personality of yours definitely helps.”

“I don’t have a type-A personality.”

A grin that reminded Sunset of Copper worked its way onto his face. “You have no idea what sarcasm is outside of a dictionary, do you?”

Sunset frowned. “Actually, as a matter of fact I do. And now you’re being a smartass.”

“Oh,” he said, impressed. “You can actually tell the difference. I’m surprised. Not many ponies can.”

Despite this unwelcome change in conversation, Sunset smiled. “Comes with having one as your best friend.”

“I guess it does, doesn’t it? Well, yeah, that was smartass I was speaking. I’m trilingual, by the way.” He buffed a hoof on his chest to complement this little charade of his.

Sunset raised an eyebrow and drew her head back slightly. “In what three languages, exactly?”

“Smartass, sarcasm, and Ponish. In that order.”

Sunset snorted and raised a hoof to hold in a bout of laughter. She walked into that one.

“That has to be the dumbest thing I’ve heard all week,” she said.

Doppler shrugged. “Well, if you figure out what you want to do, I’m sure I can beat that record a few times tonight.”

Sunset blushed, looking away. That was a bet she didn’t mind taking. Just, what to do?

“Tell you what…” He turned his head toward the distant track field. “There’s a trail just past the hoofball fields. Goes through the woods. We run it all the time. Really pretty this time of day. Wanna go for a little nature voyage?”

Aww, was he trying to play to her feminine nature? Long walks on the beach and talking about her feelings and all that? Still not really her thing, but for him she could make an exception.

“Okay,” she said.

They headed out past the track field and its chain-link fence where Copper found that scarf. A cardinal chirped from a nearby tree, and a light wind sent that rushing sound through the treetops. There were a few ponies making use of the track.

She still didn’t know what to say. With Copper gone, it left a hole in the conversation she didn’t know how to fill. Copper really had been carrying the conversation, hadn’t she?

Oh, the silence was stretching out and getting awkward. She needed to do something or this was all going to fall to pieces and it would be all her fault.

Come on. She could do this. She was Sunset Shimmer, personal student of Princess Celestia herself. She could handle a daa-ha-haate oh my gosh.

They were actually dating right now. Like, for real! She coughed to try and shoo away any stupid grin she might have been wearing. Just think of something, anything!

“So, um…” she said. “Doppler…”

“Yeah?”

Sunset laughed. “No, I mean doppler, as in the phenomenon. The distortion of sound due to the compression or elongation of sound waves generated by a moving object. How, um… how does one get a name and cutie mark in that?”

They headed off the sidewalk and onto a dirt path less “constructed” and more “beaten into submission” by the many sports teams at the university. It cut through the tree line and onto the trail proper. The cinder ash crunched beneath their hooves as they walked.

Doppler laughed. “Well, it may come as a surprise for an uppity Canterlotian such as yourself, but out there”—he gestured into the distant sky—“there are places where the weather isn’t controlled by pegasi.”

Sunset rolled her eyes but smiled. “So you’re not from Canterlot?”

“Nope. Ferrington, out west. Moved here when I was a colt ’cause my dad couldn’t get enough work there as a cobbler.”

“Your dad’s a cobbler?” Sunset stepped around a little pothole in the path.

“Yeah, horseshoes, boots, all that stuff. You wouldn’t think it, but there’s more boots that need fixing in an upscale place like Canterlot than there are in a down-to-Equestria place like Ferrington.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah. So anyway, there are some places in Equestria where pegasi don’t control the weather. In those backwater, dark-aged places, there are ponies that monitor it instead.”

“Monitor? You mean, just… let the weather happen?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh.”

“Weird, right?”

Sunset shrugged. “Not really. I mean, it makes sense for places where there just aren’t enough pegasi.”

“I was being facetious. It’s a thing that I do.” He elbowed her in the shoulder.

“I… Oh.”

“Heh. So what about you?”

“M-me?” She shied away at the idea. She didn’t like talking about herself. “What do you mean?”

Doppler caught a falling leaf with his magic and twirled it by the stem. “Well, you can’t have been Princess Celestia’s prized pupil your entire life. Where did you grow up? What kind of pony were you before you became Princess Celestia’s student? What was your favorite toy on your kindergarten playground?”

Sunset laughed. “What kind of question is that last one?”

“One that makes you laugh.” He tossed the leaf aside.

Sunset pursed her lips. He got her there.

“Well, umm… I grew up here in Canterlot. I was regular, old Sunset Shimmer just like I’ve always been. Aaaand my favorite playground toy was a red kickball that our teacher never reinflated for us after a colt named Howitzer sat on it.” She giggled at the memory.

“Oh, you were a kickballer back in the day, huh?”

She shot him a grin. “Best one in the schoolyard.”

His mouth took on an appraising slant, and his eyes roved over her in a way that were he any other stallion would have earned him a proper slap across the face.

He nodded. “I can see it.”

There was a toad on the path. It looked up at Sunset with its wide, beady eyes, croaked, and hopped into the grass.

“So if you’re named after the doppler effect,” Sunset said. “And you came here to CSGU. What exactly are you studying?”

“Meteorology.” He kicked a stray rock into the grass, which startled a chipmunk out of hiding. They watched it scurry across the path and into the nearby underbrush. “Which, surprisingly enough, has nothing to do with meteors.”

Sunset giggled. “Right?”

“I know! How do you think I felt after getting here and finding that out?” He grinned her way, then took a prideful stride ahead.

Sunset shook her head and trotted to catch up. He really was like a freaking stallion version of Copper. They walked in silence for a while, and Sunset took the opportunity to enjoy their little nature walk.

Sparrows and blue jays chirped overhead. Chipmunks scurried through the grass and forest floor while squirrels chased each other around and dug holes for nuts. There were a few mosquitoes out, but otherwise she loved every second of it. Hesitantly, she sidled closer to Doppler.

The butterflies in her stomach did their thing, and she slowly found the courage to look at his hooves while they walked.

A minute passed before he laughed quietly to himself.

“What?” Sunset asked. She took a step back from him, afraid it might have had to do with invading his personal space.

“Nothin’… Just haven’t done this in a while.”

“Done what in a while?” She flicked her ears forward, then back. She had a feeling she knew the answer.

“You know, just… go on a walk with a cute mare.”

Sunset snorted and rolled her eyes.

“Hey, just because it’s a corny fuckin’ thing to say don’t make it any less true.”

Sunset tched and looked away. Yeah right. Sunset turned when she noticed Doppler had stopped walking.

Doppler wore a disbelieving smile. “Okay. I mean, I’ll skip the stupid ‘have you looked in a mirror?’ joke, because it’s obvious you haven’t for how wacky your mane is today. But really, ponies don’t tell you you’re pretty very often, do they?”

Sunset blushed and looked at the ground. There was a trail of ants across the path she had almost stepped on, and she moved her hoof to avoid them. “No. They don’t. I mean, Copper does, but that’s just her being her.”

A moment passed, before Doppler snorted and shook his head. “That’s… not her ‘being her.’ You should start listening to her more.”

“I do listen to her. I can’t not when she says it all the time.”

“Then you should start believing her.” Those gorgeous eyes of his were focused on her, and they carried with them an honesty she couldn’t deny. True or not, he wholeheartedly believed it.

Sunset brushed back her mane to make it hopefully look a little more kempt.

Doppler caught her hoof before she could brush it all the way back. “Don’t. I kinda like it like that.”

The touch sent her heart aflutter. She had been nose to nose with him three times that day, thanks to Copper, but here in the forest washed red with the sunset, his hoof on hers, just the two of them, she almost forgot to breathe.

His mango-scented shampoo mingled with the smell of dirt and leaves, and she breathed it deep, her eyes never leaving his.

Part of her thought back to Copper and her spunky personality. What would she do at a moment like this? And the moment the thought crossed her mind, so did the answer. Sunset’s cheeks went hot as fire. The butterflies were back in her stomach, and they brought all their friends.

Copper would go in for a kiss.

Was it too soon, though? What would he think of her?

He tilted his head and brought it ever so slightly closer to hers.

Oh, Celestia, he was going for it. What should she do? Should she let him? Meet him in the middle? Oh no, oh no, oh no. What if she chose wrong?

No, this was too soon. Sunset broke away, laughing weakly. She took a deep breath. The butterflies didn’t seem very happy with her, but they could shove it.

“I, uh… can we head back?” she said breathlessly. “It’s getting kinda dark.”

Doppler was unreadable for a split second. He flattened back his ears before flicking them forward and giving her an easy smile.

“Yeah, sure.”

They headed back across the dirt path, past the chain-link fence, and back to campus proper. They entered the honors dorms, and Sunset led him through the winding halls to the Whinnister Wing, where the top of the top honors roomed.

“Damn,” he said, taking in the high glass ceilings and crystal décor. “You two have the nice dorms.”

“Perks of being top in my class.”

“You mean perks of being the princess’s star student.”

Sunset rolled her eyes. Whatever ponies wanted to think was the case. Those two reasons went pretty side by side anyway.

They came to her door, and she undid the lock. She was halfway inside before she realized she hadn’t even said goodbye.

She cringed and spun about with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I… force of habit.”

He chuckled. “You’re good. I do stupid stuff like that all the time.”

They shared a moment of silence, one Sunset wished desperately to fill with something. Maybe… maybe that kiss would have been appropriate. Maybe now?

“Well, I had fun.” He took an idle peek into her living room where the lights were off, which meant Copper was probably sleeping.

“So did I.”

He smiled. “It was fun watching you get all embarrassed. You have the most adorable blush.”

Sunset giggled. “Shut up…”

She went to brush her mane back from her face but stopped herself, remembering their little moment in the woods.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked.

That got her heart racing. She smiled, if only to keep herself from squealing at the thought.

“Yeah,” she said. “I’d like that.”

“Alright.” He stepped back.

Sunset didn’t know what was going through her head. Part of her was already exhausted out of her mind, but something stirred in her chest, some desperate fear that told her no: if she didn’t do it now, he might be walking away for good, no matter what he just said.

Before he could take another step, she darted forward and kissed him. Her heart beat a racket in her chest at the leap of faith, and a sudden fear ran through her that he might not have wanted this so suddenly.

But his lips pressed back against hers, and all worry fell away to the bliss of the moment. When they separated, they pressed their foreheads together in a fit of giggles.

“Your Coppertone is showing,” he said.

Sunset couldn’t stop giggling. “So it is…”

“Lunch at 11?” he said.

“It’s a date.”

He snorted. “Now who’s breaking the record for dumbest thing you’ve ever heard.”

“I don’t know… maybe we’ll find out tomorrow.”

That got a real laugh out of him. “I think we just found our winner, actually.”

She pushed him in the chest, and oh gosh was he toned under that thick coat. Sweet Celestia, what was going on with her? She really was acting like Copper right now.

She cleared her throat and put a hoof on the door. “Goodnight.”

“You too.” He stepped back to let her shut it.

She didn’t, though. She kept leaning farther out to watch him walk, until he turned the corner. She lingered there a moment longer, dreamily imagining what tomorrow would be like. An urge to let out a delighted squeal made it to her lips, but she held it in for Copper’s sake. She shut the door and practically skipped on her tippy hooves back into her dorm.

“You were gone awhile,” came Copper’s voice from the couch. She peered overtop the back, a bleary smile on her face. She must have passed out waiting for her to come back. “You fuck him already?”

The jab didn’t even register on Sunset’s offended meter. She was so high up on cloud nine, she actually had the gusto to smirk.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” she said.

Coppertone’s mouth fell open. “Aww, look at you. My little Sunnybuns all grown up and giving my smartassery right back at me.”

“‘Sunnybuns’?” Sunset snorted. She climbed over the back of the couch and onto Copper. It was an awkward position—head hanging off the cushion, hind legs dangling over the couch back—but just being off her hooves felt like a dream come true after all that walking. She heaved a contented sigh.

“Oof.” Coppertone squirmed underneath her. “Yep, you’re definitely all grown up.”

Sunset giggled. “I’m tired.”

“You’re heavy.” Copper used her magic to grab Sunset by the hind legs and fwomp her down into a more comfortable position beside her. She snuggled in and wrapped a hoof around Sunset’s back while using the other to stroke Sunset’s mane.

Sunset felt her eyes flutter shut involuntarily. She had always liked having her mane played with as a filly. There was something comforting about it.

Copper’s breath smelled of milk and cookies. She’d been binge-eating again. To think she was always worried about her weight and then went and did things like that.

“You sure you didn’t fuck him?” Copper said. “Your mane says otherwise.”

“It’s been like that all day,” Sunset said, a high, defensive pitch to her voice.

“So you’ve staged an alibi from the get-go. You’re not fooling me in the slightest.” She ruffled Sunset’s mane.

Sunset snorted and shook her head. A deep sigh, and she buried herself in Copper’s mane and its coconut shampoo scent. So soft. She could cuddle with it forever.

“You’re the worst, Copper,” she whispered.

A moment of silence, and Copper giggled. She rested her muzzle on Sunset’s cheek. “I learn from the best.”

They shared a laugh, and Sunset drifted off to the gentle stroke of Copper’s hoof through her mane.

Author's Note

Onward and Upward!

This story has undergone changes. Some comments may no longer make sense or be relevant.