Gormless

Chapters

Out of the Loop
Bullseye Acquired
Of Mice and Unicorns
Red Vs. Blue
The Beach Boys Were Right

Out of the Loop

It wasn't so clear to me then, but I was always one of the class misfits. Not an outcast, really, but closer to someone who didn't go out of his way to make any friends. I was one of those who didn't fit into any particular mold. Happily, there were others I knew in that same category.

Oak Branch was one such person. He had the visual trappings of a nerd---below average weight, slightly pronounced front teeth, et cetera---but little of the mental makeup, at least not to me. We didn't get along well when we first met, but time and an argument over whether Star Trek's technology was better than that of Star Wars or not changed that. I only wish I was kidding about that last one.

(He also had a rather distinct advantage over a fourth of the people in the school, but I'll bring that up at a later time. It's not important right now anyhow.)

It had been almost a week since classes had started, and we'd gotten used to our schedules by then. Sadly, the lemon-skinned and magenta-haired nuisance I'd been dreading did turn up in school the second day, having been out sick during the first one. I'd really hoped that he'd moved away somewhere, but no such chance. He gave me the occasional glare or amused smirk when we passed in the hallway, and I tried my best to ignore him. About the only saving grace was that 2nd-hour gym was the only class he had with me.

And of course, there were plenty of other oddities to talk about. "...so I get to school, open up my locker, and someone jumps out of it," Oak was telling me at lunch. "She was babbling about wanting to know when my birthday was so that she'd know exactly when to throw the party for it."

One of the other people at our table, a guy of Vietnamese descent with a sarcastic streak a mile wide, looked as confused as all get out. "How'd she even get into your locker in the first place? Did she steal your combination or something?"

"I think I know who you're talking about, Rice," said a fourth, a slightly well-rounded guy who was more knowledgeable about stuff than myself. His name was 'Melodic Farms', but he was quick to tell us that he had nothing to do with the farmland outside of town. "She's known for always doing crazy stuff like that."

"Crazy enough to get into the classroom through the ceiling?" Rice asked, shrugging at our confused expressions. "Yeah, that's a thing. She said that she misplaced a balloon packet past the tiles. Seriously, what?"

Oak swallowed the mouthful of hamburger he was eating. "It bugs me. She's a sophomore now, which means she would have been in 7th grade when we were starting middle school. Did we just not see her there, or what?"

"Maybe she wasn't always so crazy?" asked Lieutenant Tenant, a nice-looking kid with neatly combed black hair. His speech and mannerisms seemed a bit awkward, for reasons it took me years to figure out.

The table was silent as everyone focused on their lunches. In the meantime, someone had a high-pitched sneezing fit in the background. "...Yeah, not likely," we finally agreed.

"I have a question of my own," I brought up now that whatever lunatic they were talking about was no longer a topic. "What's the difference between the Fall Formal and Homecoming? I'm kinda confused."

Oak opened his mouth to speak, but someone else beat him to it. "I can answer that."

As one, everyone at the table turned to see who had spoken. We hadn't been at CHS long, and already we knew who he was: Flash Sentry, one of the most well-known and most often seen faces among the upperclassmen. I wasn't acquainted with him, but I had a vague remembrance of seeing him in the halls quite a lot back in middle school. "The Fall Formal is just this massive in-school party held after classes, with no involvement outside the students and school staff. Towards the end of it, the girl voted for by the majority of students is crowned as the Formal's princess, with no grade limitations."

"What about Homecoming?" asked the final member of our group. He was more a friend of Oak's than of mine and also spoke the least, but I got the impression that he was a lot smarter than he seemed to be. He'd never given a family name, just telling me to call him 'Solvent' when we first met.

"That's more a series of public events than a single private one," Flash explained, looking around the cafeteria as if trying to find someone. "Aside from a weekend dance, there's also a parade and a football game held earlier in the day... your classmates are probably working on the floats already. The person crowned as Homecoming Queen is selected from the senior class." He gave us a wave. "Sorry to cut and run, but I need to catch up to Sunset Shimmer before she leaves me behind."

Most of us waved him off, with Rice being the one to thank him. "No problem, man. Nice meeting you."

I frowned as Flash jogged out of earshot. "Sunset Shimmer, huh?" I said to myself.

"What's up with you, Puma?"

"I don't like her," I told Rice plainly. "There's something about her that rubs me the wrong way."

"What's wrong with her?" Farms asked. "She seems nice enough if you ignore what that Snails guy told us. I'm thinking about voting for her for the Formal."

"I don't know," I said, trying and failing to think of a good reason. "I just don't know. I listen to her speak in class. She hasn't bullied me or anything like Dallas Austin has been doing. But I still can't help but think something's wrong."

Oak gave the rest of the table a quick look. "Want to talk about it, or shall we just get into 'the game'?"

Most of us gave affirmatives in favor of said game, myself among them: I never did like thinking about stuff that made me upset. From then up until the back-to-class bell rang, our time was spent acting out roles in a galaxy where reality had no hold on us, letting us forget the drudgeries of life even if it was for only a few minutes.

With a smile, Sunset concluded that word had gotten around quickly about who she was. She liked that.

In the time since class started, the entire freshman class had become wary of her. Aside from Snips and Snails spreading rumors, a handful of her prior victims had stepped forward to warn off anyone who got wrong ideas, unknowingly doing their work for them. It was going to make winning this year's Fall Formal a bit tricky, but it was nothing she couldn't pull off. She'd managed it twice already, after all.

Respected, and to a certain extent even feared. As long as she played nice in front of the Principal and Vice-Principal, she was untouchable. Yeah, I'm definitely going to miss this routine when I'm gone.

Fifth-hour programming class had come and gone. The teacher, Mrs. Trades---more commonly referred to as "Mrs. Jack of all Trades"---tried her best for sure, but with today's material more or less figured out Sunset had found her thoughts wandering. Her eyes lit upon Puma Claw as the teacher called on him to answer a question. Well, it would be more accurate to say that almost the entire freshman class was wary of me.

Sunset had gotten pretty good at reading people, and for the most part Puma read like an open book. Somewhat slow on the uptake, with a bit of a temper lurking beneath the surface: she'd overheard his responses to several kids who were making fun of him. Unless prodded by the teacher, many of his responses to others (that she knew of) came in the form of short, clipped sentences. On the whole he was a dim bulb, with a few flickering flashes of illumination that were just as quickly extinguished.

On the other hand, he clearly knows of my reputation by now... but for some reason, it doesn't look like he cares. Whenever I say something to draw attention to myself, he either shrugs or looks like he has his head in the clouds. Which leads me to wonder: should I put the fear of me into him, or just wait and see how things play out?

The first one is a bit on the risky side. He looks like he's one bad day away from just hauling off and decking someone, suspension or not. I could take him if he got mad enough to do that, but there's still the matter of getting away with it without any eyewitnesses, leaving him with just his word against mine. The second one is a mixed bag: if he already knows about me and just isn't inclined to do anything about it, that would seem to indicate that he already respects what I can do and isn't inclined to give me any grief over it... but I'd be left without the satisfaction of knowing that he's aware of who's in charge.

...

Eh, I'll go with the second option. A single ambiguous student of that type doesn't feel like it would be worth the time and effort.

Now, Fluttershy on the other hand...

"Hey, queen bee," someone behind her said. "You going to buy something, or not?"

It was at that moment that Sunset was thankful that she was standing in front of the vending machine the entire time, or else anyone around her would've been wondered why she was grinning for no good reason.

Free periods. They were something that the middle school lacked, and I was thankful for them.

Technically, the students were to be at school for roughly seven hours. However, only six classes per student were scheduled: the remaining time was set aside for the students to do things like finish homework, socialize somewhere on campus as long as they didn't disturb any classes in session, hang out or read at the library, do any work associated with their clubs or setting up school events... things of that nature.

My own free period was scheduled for sixth hour, and as I got used to it I knew where I wanted to spend it. I sure wasn't going to spend it on homework as long as there were people waiting to disturb my peace. Neither did I intend to spend it with anyone: aside from the fact that none of my friendlier classmates shared the same free period, I wasn't a people person by any stretch of the imagination. Thus, my destination every day was the gymnasium.

The gym was empty by that hour. CHS's freshmen were the only ones who were required to take classes there during the day, and the entire 9th grade had already passed through by the time lunch rolled around. With the exception of a few upperclassmen whose time coincided with mine (and who were generally more inclined to mind their own business), I usually had the gym to myself.

I always spent the time shooting baskets. Basketball was the sport I preferred, but I was never truly great at it. Shooting 3-pointers and being able to steal the ball is all well and good, but that by itself doesn't mean the player is talented. Still, it was something to do, and it was nice to be able to play it in light of our family's own backboard being devoid of a rim to shoot through.

One day not long before the Fall Formal, I'd just stopped at the free-throw line to shoot when I heard something I'd recognize anywhere: the squeaky call of a kitten. My shot clanged off the rim, and the ball bounced off somewhere to the left.

I didn't care. I'd heard a kitten somewhere, and I was going to find it. Assuming it wasn't inclined to rip my hands apart with its tiny little dagger claws, I was going to pet it, too.

I was able to locate it after a bit of searching, and in hindsight I should've expected what it was up to. Hidden near the bleachers at the back of the gym was Fluttershy, trying her best to make herself invisible. Not helping her out was the little orange kitten in her hands---probably not more than two months old---mewing repeatedly and trying to paw her face as if trying to console her about something.

It was easy to understand why one could make that assumption. Fluttershy had been quieter than usual during programming class, her voice a near whisper both times the teacher had called on her. If her downcast face and weary appearance when I saw her in the gym were any indication, she seemed to have undergone a lot of stress recently.

I didn't know how to handle any of that stuff, though. I didn't know why she seemed sad, only that she was. And in any event, my attention was drawn more towards the kitten; even as distressed as she was, there was no way Fluttershy could have missed that. Hesitantly, she held the kitten out towards me and allowed me to skritch it behind the ears, something that the little critter enjoyed.

By the time I was able to force myself away from the kitten and go back to my practicing a few minutes later, I was smiling broadly. For that matter so was Fluttershy, albeit nowhere close to the same extent: she'd been concerned that I was going to tell one of the teachers or whoever that she'd been smuggling animals into school, but I didn't feel like it was worth the effort. Besides, people who liked cats couldn't be bad, right?

...

It wasn't until two days later that I would understand just how much Fluttershy needed something to go right for her, and why she appreciated my casual acceptance of her odd habits.

The day that things began to change for me had passed by like any other: went to classes, dealt with the incessant mockery of my peers, had a gaming session during lunch, basketball during free period, the usual stuff. Following my final class, I stopped at my locker just long enough to lighten my duffel bag's load for the walk home. Since Dallas Austin was most likely waiting at the front door to hassle me, I'd opted to head for one of the other exits. Last thing I needed was him trying to taunt me into punching him.

"...Why do you even bother?"

I'd just reached my chosen exit when I heard Sunset's voice in an adjoining hallway. It wasn't my business what she did with her time, so I was inclined to keep on going.

At least until I heard the whine of a small dog. I stopped with my hand a few inches from the door, listening carefully.

"Look, Fluttershee," Sunset was saying harshly, purposefully bungling the other girl's name. "You've been told this time and time again. You're not supposed to bring in every stray animal you see off the streets."

"But---"

"Seriously, I shouldn't have to spell this out for you. No one wants to spend time with you, I get that, but is this strange obsession of yours really so bad that you have to violate school policies just for companionship? I bet he hasn't even had all of his shots!"

"But she's---"

Sunset raised an index finger, cutting her off. "Not another word. I don't want to hear it, and I can't think of a single person who does. When you leave, take the dog with you and don't come back with him tomorrow. That okay with you, wallflower? Huh?"

With that, the sun set on a darkened mood as the flame-haired teenager stormed off down the hall. Fluttershy stared at Sunset as she left, looked down at the dachshund in her arms, sighed and murmured something apologetically to it before slowly walking towards me. Her eyes were part-way closed and shimmering as she passed me, exiting out the door I was about to take.

So were the dachshund's, but I was sure that was coincidence.

I forced out the breath I was holding and tried to keep myself from yelling in anger. Eventually I was able to force my fury back down into my gut, at the price of a slight feeling of nausea. "I am seriously starting to dislike the queen bee," I growled.

"Me, too," said a student who had stopped next to me while the confrontation was taking place. "Wallflower's my name, not Fluttershy's."

My double-take at her presence would have been funny if the situation hadn't been so serious.

Author's Note

Differences

My own high school didn't have free periods, per se. It was always the first three classes, the fourth class stretched out to an hour and a half to account for multiple lunch periods, and then the remaining two classes. That started to change a little bit before I graduated, but not to any extreme effect.

Other

Wallflower Blush's cameos are just that: cameos. Aside from a running gag, she won't have any real importance to the story.

As an aside, I mean no disrespect to anyone from Texas. I just figured that "Dallas Austin" sounded like a cool name.

As for Puma's lunchmates, here's a short list of what their Cutie Marks would have been if they had been ponies; the Marks should be somewhere on their person. Keep in mind I have no idea how to interpret any of these, so as the story continues feel free to use your imagination.

Oak Branch -- The eponymous branch without any leaves, bending in an unseen gust of wind.

Rice Omelette -- A ki blast shaped to resemble a bowl of rice pudding.

Melodic Farms -- A glass of chocolate milk next to a triangular cheese block.

Solvent -- A bottle of aerosol with a question mark on it.

Lieutenant Tenant -- A smiley face on a golden star.

Bullseye Acquired

It's two days before the Fall Formal, and I have some observations to make regarding the trends at CHS. First off, it's my belief that---if one of our family friends was right---the dress code has gotten remarkably lax.

See, here's the thing. When said family friend was attending CHS in the late 1990s, there was this little test that the principal at the time would have kids do: he would have them level their shoulders and let their arms and hands hang down, and if their skirts or shorts (depending on gender) ended above their fingertips, they would be sent home to change. And before you ask, they couldn't cheat by raising their shoulders either.

I'm pretty sure that at least 10% of the students that I saw wandering the halls would've failed that test, Sunset Shimmer among them. Either that or people's arms are getting shorter, I'm not sure which. I mean, it's like when they get mad and place their hands on their hips when talking to someone, bending their elbows, then they straighten their arms and they're inexplicably the same length either way. That has to be one serious optical illusion they're pulling off there.

...Hold on a second, I forgot what I was talking about. ...Oh, right. Trends. Sorry.

Secondly, I have to wonder: since when did knee-high boots become the latest fashion? They're everywhere. I realize that a lot of people don't agree with me on this, but I just don't see the appeal. Give me a good set of sneakers any day.

Third and last, we have Flash Sentry. As you already know, he's an item with Sunset (a discounted item, mind you, but still an item). He's easily one of the most popular guys in the school, if not the most popular, but I found out at the same time there's a lot of kids who wish that his parents found work out of the state and moved away, solely because they believe he's responsible for standing in the way of their own romantic opinions.

I don't understand the fuss any more than I can understand algebra. Flash's never interacted with me, but that also means he's never made fun of me. I don't know him or what his personality is really like, and that means that I'm not qualified to judge him; the problem with speculations is that they tend to be wrong more often than not, and if there's anything I hate more than insults, it's needing to admit that I've made a mistake.

What's any of this got to do with trends? Well, it's always been a trend to jump to conclusions without getting all the facts first, right?

There is something that I don't need speculations to confirm, however: the fact that Flash's dating a jerk. How do I know that Sunset's a jerk?

I heard her insulting Fluttershy numerous times. High, loud, and repeatedly.

Just the thought of it was making me sick to my stomach. One of the few people in my classes that actually seemed honest-to-goodness nice, and cared about cats (among other animals, of course) more than I did, getting yelled at because someone her age felt she ought to know her place? Why wasn't the school staff doing anything about this? Wasn't this part of their job description?

If I ever cared that Sunset was the queen bee, that was well and truly gone. I needed to find some way to get back at her without my parents or the school's administration finding out. Or for that matter, any of those directly involved.

And that meant doing some off-campus brainstorming.

...

Seriously, Sunset. "Fluttershee"? Sounds like something a computer would say.

While my parents were busy playing Scrabble that evening, I got into contact with Oak via a chat service to see if he'd gleaned anything from the short time they'd been in CHS. Once I asked him what I needed, he responded with what I thought was a fairly amusing question.

...

CidHW7: Puma, are you drunk?

CritterCat: Oak, work with me here. Have you heard anything about how well Sunset Shimmer and Flash Sentry get along since classes started?

There was a pause at this point. I wasn't sure whether it was because Oak was trying to sift through his memories, or if he was wondering if my mind had wandered and just hadn't returned.

CidHW7: No, I haven't. Why?

CritterCat: Do you know of a girl at school named "Fluttershy"?

CidHW7: She's in one of my classes. Don't know her, though, but she seems nice.

CritterCat: I think Sunset's been traumatizing her.

CidHW7: ...Puma, do you even know what that word means?

I was irritated at this. Just because I wasn't as bright as everyone else didn't mean I was a tried-and-true moron. My dad made sure I knew how to read before I ever started elementary school; learning the alphabet in kindergarten was just a formality. I may not have understood larger words at first, but the ability to get the gist of what they meant over time via context allowed me to read stuff above my grade level.

So, yeah: I knew full well what the word meant. Though for the sake of not derailing the conversation, I didn't mention any of this to Oak.

CritterCat: More of a gut feeling than anything else.

CidHW7: Figures.

CritterCat: Oak, I've been mocked and teased most of my life.

CritterCat: I know what it's like to have a bad time, and she's been having it worse than me.

It was at this point that Oak tried to talk me out of doing something stupid. I was operating on pure heart instead of brainpower, though, and I refused to have any of it.

CidHW7: Maybe so, but is it any of your business what Sunset does?

CritterCat: Nope.

CidHW7: You realize this could get you in serious trouble.

CritterCat: 'Will', not 'could'.

CidHW7: And given what we know about her, she's never going to give you a moment's peace again.

CritterCat: Doubtlessly.

CidHW7: ...Curse your morality, Puma.

CritterCat: >^_^<

CidHW7: Alright, fine. I'll see what I can find out without alerting her.

And it was with those words that my year-long downward spiral began.

It wouldn't be until lunch the day of the Fall Formal that Oak was able to get back to me with his findings. In the meantime, life at the school continued on as normal.

While on my way into the school that morning, I overheard several loud voices---and then two of my classmates ran into the atrium at full speed. Dallas Austin was carrying a bag of something in his hand, laughing and keeping them out of reach of his pursuer: the odd-eyed blonde of many names, most commonly known as Derpy Hooves. The latter was trying her best to get the bag back, sure, but her best efforts kept falling a foot short.

Several students I wasn't familiar with yet saw their arrival and made to chase after Dallas, forcing him to change course... directly towards me. He saw me at the last moment and tried to go evasive, but I was able to reach out and rip the bag from his hands before he could get away.

"Hey, give that back!" Dallas protested, turning towards me. "That's mi---OOF!"

That was all he was able to say before the students who'd decided to chase him managed to dogpile him. I was never inclined to believe him, considering that Derpy was positively ecstatic when I handed the bag over to her (that, and there was a variety pack of muffins from Sugarcube Corner inside). I liked to think that I trusted someone who'd yet to bother me over a nuisance who'd been bullying me since the 6th grade.

Vice-Principal Luna turned up shortly thereafter to straighten out the situation. Dallas tried again to protest and say that we had taken his snacks, but a look directed at me and Derpy was all she needed to know that Dallas was lying through his teeth. Once things were resolved she commended the other students for helping catch him (and subsequently telling them not to disturb the rest of the school in the same breath), gave her thanks to me for my own small role, then carted Dallas off to her office.

Sheesh. Where was she when Fluttershy was being antagonized? She didn't mess around with Dallas at all.

...

"Excuse me, Puma Claw?"

...Huh. Must have zoned out there. "Yeah, Derpy?"

"Thanks for helping get my snacks back."

I shrugged uncomfortably. "You're welcome."

She smiled and held one out to me. "Muffin?"

"Cool. Thank you."

...

I never gave that event a lot of thought after that. For that matter, I didn't think there was anything wrong with Derpy, either. I wasn't about to complain any regarding her eyesight, as my dad had similar vision problems. She seemed to do all right, occasional fits of klutziness notwithstanding. She got a few odd looks from some who didn't know her, but on the whole I couldn't see anyone having any serious problems interacting with her.

And the one person who did have a problem got hip-checked halfway across the room. And no, that was not an exaggeration. I doubt Derpy was even aware of what she did. Why hasn't she tried out for the girls' varsity basketball team?

That turned out to be the only positive thing that happened to me that day. When Oak and I next met up during 4th-hour English, he talked to me in low tones in order to relay what he was able to find:

"Nothing."

I frowned, disheartened. "Really?"

"Sorry, Puma, but afraid so. There's no way for me to find out about their relationship in detail except to ask one of them directly. I tried asking that skinny flunky of hers about what things were like, but he just said it was none of his business. Or mine. So I just dropped the subject."

I glared at my desk, visibly disappointed. Oak continued speaking. "You ever thought about going to the Principal with any of this?"

"And have Sunset find out about what I was trying to do? No, thanks," I told him. "I'll just have to figure something else out."

"Like what?"

I shrugged. "I dunno."

Oak smiled. "Well, whatever. Can't say we didn't try, right?"

"I suppose..."

I stopped at the restroom on my way to lunch to take care of business and wash my hands. I was irritated as all get out, not just at Oak's failure but also at my inability to give Fluttershy a much-needed break. "I try to do something nice for people, I really do," I grumbled to no one except the figments of my imagination, finishing up at one of the sinks. "Fluttershy's a cool person. No one who likes cats could be anything else. Why does that pyro-haired jerk and a half have to be a ginormous queen bee about it all?"

There was no reply. That was okay, since I didn't really expect there to be one. Good thing, since when I put emphasis on 'bee' I was referring to something that my parents had told me to never say in polite company, and I didn't want anyone to chew me out over it. "Calm down, Puma Claw. Calm down," I hissed to my reflection in the mirror. "Don't lose your temper. Come on. You're better than this. It's just another day in the life."

I hurried out of the restroom and hustled off to lunch. The bologna-and-cheese sandwich in my bag wasn't going to wait any longer, and it was my experience that eating was a perfectly good solution to anger anyway.

...Look, I already know I'm overweight. Telling me that I get angry too much isn't helping things.

Flash Sentry was waiting for Sunset when she got out of her Visual Basic class. "Hey, Sunset," he greeted her. "Got a minute?"

Sunset looked at Flash, unsure as to what was happening. "Ye-e-eah," she said hesitantly, drawing out her speech a little at how mad he seemed to be. Those friendly words of his don't go well with that expression. "What do you need?"

"Nothing much," Flash replied, his words jovial even't if his face and tone weren't. "Just that I heard a little cat say something interesting today."

Sunset chuckled. "A 'little cat', huh? Seriously? ...Okay, Flash, I'll bite. What did it tell you?"

"He didn't tell me anything," Flash said. "I don't think he even knew I was there. As for what he said, he suggested you've been regressing."

...I don't like the direction this is heading. "Regressing, how?"

"I think you already know." The last bit of friendliness left Flash's demeanor, and his next two words hit Sunset as bluntly as a dodgeball. "We're finished."

...WHAT?! "Flash, what are you talking about?" Sunset protested. "I haven't even done anything! Would you let me expla---"

"What that little cat said," Flash interrupted her sharply, "was that you were harassing that Fluttershy girl. I don't know the circumstances surrounding you, and I admit I haven't been very observant, but I'm not dumb. I gave you the benefit of a doubt in spite of all the rumors because I believed you had some good qualities, but now that I've had those rumors confirmed, I've figured out that it's just been me blinding myself. So as of now, this band has broken up."

Open fury warred with the small part of Sunset that still believed Flash was worth being around. She tried to salvage this situation and reassure him that she was still on the level, but before she could get a working sentence out of her mouth she was overridden again. "If you're wanting me to forgive you for this, forget it. I gave you a second chance when we first started hanging out. Now I find out that you're bullying your classmates behind my back again? No. Absolutely not. We are done, Sunset Shimmer. Do you hear me? Done!"

With that Flash turned and left, leaving a small group of students staring in surprise and Sunset herself in slack-jawed disbelief. The source of her complaints was long gone towards the gym for his free period, completely unaware of what his frustrated exclamations earlier that day had led to.

What... just happened? Did that just...?

During her final class for the day, Sunset was still trying to come to grips with the fact that her stepladder towards school-wide influence had been taken away from her. Most of her time had been spent staring sternly at nothing, trying to convince herself that what she'd just experienced was some sort of bad dream. The one time the teacher called on her, she'd only answered due to being completely on autopilot.

Her eyes narrowed as she reached a series of conclusions. I don't need Flash Sentry's help anymore. As far as my influence among my peers is concerned, I'm already at the top of the heap... though now it's become a matter of staying there. My position is tenuous, so I'll have to work hard and make sure that I can't be dislodged before it comes time to make my move.

Of all the times for him to stop being so nice...

Anyway, I ought to start by making sure that 'little cat' gets a piece of my mind. Thanks to the data I've collected since the school year began, I know that there's only two people in this school whose names are related to cats in any way. One of them's a senior on the cheerleading squad, but Flash distinctly said that the 'little cat' was male. And last I checked, the cheerleaders didn't have any guys among them. (And that was a mental image I really didn't need. Thanks, me.)

Which leaves only one person.

The final bell rang, dismissing the school at large. As everyone left, talking excitedly about the evening's upcoming event, Sunset's eyes lit upon one of her classmates. The subject of her attention was still in her seat, happily chewing a blueberry muffin until a passing classmate nudged her to attention. Smiling sheepishly, she grabbed her things and got up to leave, almost knocking over her chair in the process.

Sunset shook her head and forced herself to ignore her. It was an unwritten rule among her classmates that under no circumstances was anyone to antagonize Derpy Hooves in any way, shape or form, and Sunset had nearly found this out the hard way. At some point after she'd asserted herself as CHS's "queen", a series of mishaps in the cafeteria had ended with Derpy falling inside a trash recepticle. Since Sunset was nearest to her at the time---even though she had nothing to do with it---she was immediately besieged by an onslaught of angry glares by those at the tables nearest to her. It didn't take a genius to figure out that everyone was willing to put their reputations on the line if it meant the clumsy girl was left alone.

She didn't understand why at first, but over time it became clearer: even for someone as fixated on her agenda as Sunset was, Derpy was just plain likeable without really trying to be. How she managed that without having her own circle of friends (or at least, none that Sunset was aware of), the exiled Equestrian never knew.

The school's resident disc jockey, Vinyl Scratch (or DJ-P0N3 when on the clock), was also given a wide berth. She spoke very little and very rarely, even when questioned in class by the teachers, so not much was known about her as a person. What was known was that Vinyl was the person you talked to if you needed quality tunes for any reason, and since she was almost always available to run the sound booth at school-sponsored events, she had joined Derpy on a very short "Do Not Bother" list.

...It wasn't because Vinyl had loaded Sunset's first phone with some awesome ringtones, and those who assumed so very quickly had the rug pulled out from under them. Violently, if need be.

Unlike either of them, though, Puma Claw was under no such protection. With just a few half-witted sentences, he'd managed to drive a wedge between Sunset and Flash Sentry. Sure, she had only been using Flash as a means of increasing her control over the school, but she never did like falling out of any situation she had a vested interest in. It was time for her to run damage control.

An ex-unicorn who had been taught by Princess Celestia herself, estranged though they were, versus a fat fool of a human with no sense of the world around him?

No contest.

...

Hold that thought. Fall Formal first, then no contest. Of the day's annoyances, these...

Author's Note

Differences

I never paid any particular attention to the clothing styles that were popular when I was in school. I was always much more focused on just getting through each day. On the flip side and unbeknownst to him, Puma has fewer reasons to keep his head down: while I had to deal with kids across all four grades, he just has those within his own year to put up with. His older sibling was correct at the beginning of the story when she said that the school environment was having a positive effect on those who had been there long enough, Sunset Shimmer's single-minded quest for power notwithstanding.

Other

Spot the reference to Star Wars' Legends continuity and get yourself a cookie.

Of Mice and Unicorns

It was the sort of news that was a dime a dozen everywhere one looked: divorces, separations, and/or breakups. But at CHS, where it concerned both the school's most popular guy and the most aggravating alpha witch the facility ever had, it hit the student body like a hockey stick to the gut.

Which of course meant that I didn't find out about it until lunch the day after the Fall Formal.

"Come on, Puma," Rice Omelette complained in-between bites. "How did you not hear about it before now? Seriously, man."

I shrugged, still winding down from the shock. It was expected that I would be surprised about it: since Oak wasn't able to get the information I wanted on their friendship status, I wasn't able to act on it. So why did Flash take the initiative and cut ties with Sunset anyway?

"I'm assuming that having Sunset and Flash break up was your end goal in all of this, right?" Oak asked, to which I nodded. "Well, congratulations: you have her attention now. She was trying to ask me about you during the Formal."

"Wait, that's why she stopped me after and asked me about him?" Melodic Farms asked, realizing something a bit too late. "Because she guessed that Puma was responsible?"

"She went to talk to me, too," Rice confirmed. "I just thought she was desperate. I mean, she had just broken up with Flash, so..."

Oak had the decency to facepalm. "Rice, what girl in their right mind would try to hook up with Puma of all people? Just look at him. His mind wanders half the time, he's the heaviest guy in the freshman class and maybe the school, he's not exactly pretty to look at..." He stopped himself short, giving me an apologetic look. "Um, sorry."

"Don't be," I said as I grinned, or at least tried to. For some reason, one side of my mouth never wants to fully smile when the other side does, making it look unfinished. Add another reason to the pile as to why I don't do it much.

"But now I'm wondering. Puma, you pack light lunches while I go for the bigger ones, and somehow you're almost twice my size. How does that even work?..."

For the time being at least, we turned our attention to lighter topics and shut out the rest of the world. Shame I couldn't say the same for the queen bee: I didn't know this, obviously, but it wouldn't be long before she hit the ground running.

The following week...

To outward appearances, Sunset Shimmer was merely using one of the library's computers for an assignment during her free period. The website she was on, which gave a general overview of the events that led up to the Amareican Revolution, was meant to encourage that assumption. In reality, she wasn't really seeing any of it; mentally, she was reviewing information on her latest project: Puma Claw.

Which, she admitted silently, could be considered a minor battle in itself depending on how this plays out.

Some of what she had gathered had been obtained from Snips and Snails, who'd made a few discreet inquiries to classmates who had apparently known Puma for most of his school life. Sunset herself had approached his group's apparent leader, Oak Branch, for details during the Fall Formal, but had been flat-out rejected. She'd wisely backed off at the time instead of making a scene, opting to consult Rice Omelette and Melodic Farms afterward. Neither of the two possessed Oak's sharp mind, and she'd played nice long enough to get the info she needed.

She'd stayed away from Solvent and Tenant, though. The former was almost as quiet as Vinyl Scratch, kept to himself and seemed to be aware of more than he let on, while the latter was almost uncannily similar to an easygoing, friendly, and possibly mentally challenged colt she'd known prior to being discovered by Princess Celestia. She'd deal with both eventually if they caused her problems, but for now she had bigger fish to fry.

Much bigger.

Let's see, now. From what they said, Puma has a rather unhealthy obession with cats... not a surprise, given his name. His grades run the full gamut, ranging from As in English and computer classes clear down to Cs and Ds in science and math. Is below average at all sports except basketball, at which he does reasonably well; it is noted that he rejected an offer to try out for a team, citing low grades and interference with his personal schedule. Struggles to get to school on time in the mornings, which I can kind of identify with. Has regular RPG sessions with the people he sits with at lunch. Sunset shook her head. Nerd.

Anyway... he has four older siblings, all of whom are alumni of this school and the last of which graduated just this past calendar year... right before I started here, come to think of it. Puma is a social misfit, and interactions with those outside his circle of friends range from polite at best to antagonizing at worst. Hates spiders and insects, loud noises, and being randomly teased out of nowhere. Drinks soda pop like no one's business, primarily Haygo whenever the stores are able to stock it. Hates unnecessary work, but will usually bring himself to do it anyway just to avoid an argument. Is prudish as all get out.

Sunset tapped her chin in thought, scrolling down the webpage a little to keep up appearances. Now, how best to get Puma under my thumb with this information? None of what I have is truly "incriminating"... if anything, it's all casual trivia. But with situations like this, being able to read between the lines comes in handy... and I think there's a few different ideas I can try.

Plan A: I appeal to Puma's cat obsession by giving him links to galleries of kitten pictures. If he starts thinking that I enjoy looking at them as well, it will be easier to get on his good side and get his forgiveness for bothering Fluttershy. If it works out, then conceivably I could talk him into doing occasional work for me; he looks like he'd make a decent powerhouse to back up Snips and Snails. If that doesn't work out and he refuses to take the bait, spreading the rumor that he responded to a friendship offer by being mean would cause his already low reputation to take a serious hit.

Plan B: Offer to tutor Puma in math and science. If he accepts and his grades start to go up, he'll likely be more appreciative towards my efforts. Possibly he'd help me out later if I made a show of needing it, maybe even when the portal opens next year. If he accepts but there's no positive change in his grades, people may start to think that he only wants me instead of my knowledge. If he refuses entirely, word will go around that he doesn't care about his academic performance, giving him less credibility from his peers' perspectives. It's win-win.

Sunset jotted down a few notes on a piece of scrap paper. Plan C: Work the blackmail front. Get Snails to spy on Puma to ascertain his locker combination. If he does that RPG thing as often as they say, embarassing situations are likely to have cropped up at some point or another. Any information on that is likely to be stored in his locker when he's not at lunch, if what they heard about the content is true.

Plan D: Find out who hates Puma the most and why. Get on his or her good side and provide incentive to have their game stepped up, then feign ignorance if I'm ratted out. A convincing enough performance will hit morale and reputation for both parties, leaving me in the clear.

Plan E: Manipulate enough entry sheets to get Puma involved in the next "Mr. Canterlot" competition in November. If he's as much of a misfit as Fluttershy is, he'll go to pieces when the attention is on him. Simple and to the point.

Sunset nodded in satisfaction, took a few more notes, then closed the browser she was working with and vacated to a spare desk. Those will do for now. There's no shortage of possibilities, but if even one of these five works, I can focus on more important things.

Suppressing a yawn, she looked around. The librarian was tending to the front desk, but otherwise the library was mostly empty. Not having anything pressing that needed taken care of, Sunset decided that taking a nap was the best way to pass the rest of her free period, dozing off with her head and arms on her desk.

That fictional cat was right. Mornings do start too early in the day.

It took Sunset a bit of time to find a decent animal gallery online. It wasn't that there was any real shortage of them around, but for maximum impact she needed one that full-on oozed cuteness as opposed to just radiating it. It wasn't until she found a photo of a litter of silver tabby kittens sleeping alongside a confused Bull Mastiff outdoors on a blanket that she decided that she had what she was looking for.

She was grateful that no one she knew or recognized was nearby. It would be difficult to explain away the squeal she made in a way that didn't make her look like a bleeding heart or musophobic.

Now all that was needed to be done was wait for Puma to show up to programming class and make the offer to him. And that was what Sunset did: she leaned against a locker next to the door and waited, ignoring those that passed her and keeping her eyes open for a fourteen-wheeler with a crew cut.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

...

It was after a few minutes of humming passed that she came to the realization that something was wrong. What's taking him so long? I thought he was usually one of the first to get here!

Quickly losing patience, Sunset put on her 'nice face' and addressed a passing student. As she made her inquiry, she took a mental step back when she recognized him as Lieutenant Tenant. "Excuse me, but have you seen Puma Claw at all today?"

"Um, no," the freshman said, unsure of why she wanted to know. "I heard he had to leave early today."

The 'nice face' faltered. "How early is 'early'?"

"Right after second hour. Someone threw that huge bag of his into the showers during gym class, so... the gym teacher and the Principal sent him home to dry everything off. Hope that helps."

...

Outwardly, Sunset was smiling apologetically and dismissing Tenant, letting him go about his business. Inwardly, she was becoming increasingly angry. What the actual---

"Hello, Sunset," Snips' voice cut in. "Uh, why do you look so mad?"

"It's nothing," Sunset quickly said to save face, turning around and heading into class. "Don't worry about it."

Snips scratched the back of his head in confusion, then shrugged and went on his way. As soon as she figured his back was turned, Sunset angrily wadded up the website address and chucked it at the wastebasket before huffily storming to her seat, glaring at nothing.

...

Fluttershy entered the classroom with moments to spare before class began. Seeing the little scrap of paper near the wastebasket, she started to throw it away before curiosity drove her to give the writing on it a closer look.

As it turned out, the picture galleries that the website would lead her to after school were just what she needed to cheer up after a long day.

The next day...

Of course, Sunset would have been foolish if she didn't try again when Puma would be in class. What she didn't anticipate is how quickly her offer would be turned down: as soon as she produced another piece of paper with the same website shown, he took one look at what was written and ripped it to shreds.

With that done, he brushed a few fragments off his pant legs and shook his head at Sunset. "No, thank you."

"Come on, Puma. You don't even know what's on that website! How could you reject it that quickly?"

Puma frowned. "Easy. Like this: no, thank you. Am I supposed to believe that there isn't a virus or malware associated with that? I'd rather not risk my dad's computer, if you don't mind." In a quieter voice, he muttered: "Dad's already been on my case once about it as it is."

"There were galleries of cats on that page!" Sunset was quick to protest, beginning to lose her cool. "What harm could they possibly do?"

"I fail to see how dogs that abuse kittens could enjoy that sort of thing, queen bee," Puma drawled, opening up his favorite typing program to get some practice in before class began.

With a not inconsiderable amount of will, Sunset forced down her anger and turned away from him back towards her computer. "Suit yourself," she warned. "Just remember that I tried to be nice."

If the teacher hadn't walked in at that moment, Puma's muttered reply of "don't strain yourself" would have caused Sunset to be suspended from school via getting a fist stuck through her monitor.

...Well, that was a complete and total wash. Aside from me overestimating the degree to which Puma liked cats, I guess students aren't as quick to believe rumors as I used to think.

Or it isn't so much that they don't believe them as it is they aren't inclined to care. From the looks of things, this is a recurring thing with Puma: he's had trouble in the past discerning fact from fiction, and people seem to have this thing with leading him along by the nose only to trick him in some way. Sometimes he's aware of it, other times he's not, but either way they seem to prefer mockery and teasing over direct antagonism.

And to top it off, I'd thought those muscles of his were pythons at first glance. Turns out they're more like over-satiated garter snakes. Way to go, me: you've put off getting your eyes checked for the last time!

On that note, how much do they charge for eye doctor appointments around here? Maybe I should consider getting contacts...

...

...Nah.

Next Monday...

With someone as focused on life and agendas as Sunset, there was no room for error: there were more things she had to deal with than just Puma Claw. It was most of another week before she was able to carry out the next plan on her list, meeting up with him after school just after he'd finished transferring unneeded books from his duffel bag to his locker.

It hadn't been easy for her, admittedly. Sunset had a long memory when it came to failures and slights, and thinking about her first plan crashing and burning was liable to push her temper to the edge. It took considerable force of will to stay polite long enough to get the job done.

"...In light of what happened last week I normally wouldn't do this," Sunset explained. "But the school counselor seems to think I have a future in teaching, so he asked me to try something to see if I have any sort of aptitude for it."

Which was an outright lie: she hadn't seen the counselor since her first year here. Her target didn't need to know that, though.

Puma eyed Sunset cautiously. It was clear that he hadn't forgotten what happened the last time they talked to each other. "What is it?"

Sunset adopted her most disarming smile, trying to look as well-meaning as possible. "I was wondering, Puma: how would you like to---"

"Yeah, hold that pose," Sunset agreed... then did a double-take, eyes widening. Wait, I didn't say that---!

And that was all she had time for before she was faced with a picture-taking force of nature. A 9th-grade math book was shoved into her hand as Photo Finish, who was looking on from down the hall and decided that Sunset was looking remarkably photogenic in the midst of the latter's faux concern, decided to commemorate the occasion as only she knew how. Feeling just this side of overwhelmed (and knowing from past experience that when Photo Finish decided to blitz someone, there was no stopping her), Sunset played along in the hopes that it would make her go away that much quicker.

"YES, look nice as possible!" Flash.

"NO, look fierce like tigress!" Flash.

"ONE SIDE, ze setting sun!" Flash.

"OTHER SIDE, you're no morning person!" Flash.

"Ze future of this generation is in your hands!" Flash.

"When ze lights go down on ze school and ze sun shines, will you be there?!" Flash. Flash.

"You will! You won't! Yes! Journey! Yes! Journey!"

Flash.

Flash.

Flash.

Flash.

"ENOUGH! I go."

Sunset blinked repeatedly in a vain effort to get the spots out of her eyes as Photo Finish zipped off, taking the math book with her. Stars above, I hate it when she does that. She shook her head and re-adopted her previous smile. "Sorry about that. Anyway, Puma, how'd you like to..."

No sign of CHS's resident potato-shaped freshman. A brief look around confirmed that the hall was empty. "...hold still long enough for me to nail your shoes to the floor?" Sunset finished through gritted teeth, realizing that the photographer's overeagerness had scared him off. How in BLAZES did he manage to take off without me noticing? I'm sorry, but people his size do not move about that quietly!

Useless Trivia: When I was still in elementary school, my oldest sister already had her own apartment. The floor in it creaked whenever I walked on it, and I was afraid that it would break beneath me and send me falling (though granted, my fears were unfounded). So, I got into the habit of putting down as little of my weight as possible whenever I walked around.

As a side effect, I became able to move around more quietly than you'd expect of someone of my size. On multiple occasions I've managed to startle others---up to and including my parents---much to my befuddlement, as I didn't feel I was being particularly stealthy. Eventually I was able to figure out that being cautious as to how I walked had become second nature to me, to the point where I'd stopped thinking about it.

That incident with the crazy photographer made me put that little skill to good use for the first time. I was genuinely spooked by how enthusiastic she was with her work, but more than that I wanted nothing to do with whatever it was Sunset was offering. Skedaddling while I still could was just common sense, and I was already at my usual exit by the time I heard the photographer's distant voice say that she was done.

Sunset had something planned. I just couldn't figure out what.

Photo Finish looked over the pictures she'd taken of Sunset and the hapless underclassman she was talking to. Like anyone who'd been attending CHS long enough, she knew about the kinds of games Sunset liked to play. Judging from the poor sap's unsure expression, she could only surmise that the victim-to-be didn't. Must you be zuch a killjoy, Shimmer? Let him keep his innozence a little longer, yah?

She singled out two of the photographs for her instructor to consider for inclusion in the school yearbook, set them aside... and proceeded to rip up the rest, tossing the mangled remains in her kitchen wastebasket. Unlike Sunset, Photo Finish had seen the freshman making his escape. If she could get away without telling anyone she'd seen his plight and had decided to help him the best way she could, wondrous.

If people feel that I, Photo Finish, am a flake, far be it from me to ruin their expectations. Za magicks have not failed me yet!

The following Thursday...

Prior to starting high school, I'd never been to any school functions or the like. It's not like there weren't any: the middle school I went to occasionally had parties and such in the cafeteria after classes ended, and there were events like spelling bees, talent shows, and Halloween costume exhibitions as well. No, being at those sorts of events didn't appeal to me.

Irritably, pep rallies held during class hours were mandatory, so I had no choice but to attend my first one in October. I was thankful that I wasn't obligated to attend the secondary one held after school, which was significantly more in-depth.

There were mildly entertaining skits by the students, one of whom had curly pink hair and was previously speculated by my friends to be a touch insane. There were speeches by several teachers and the sibling principals, talking about important events, student performances, things of that nature. One upperclassman who was rather keen on school loyalty--couldn't see her too well from where I was sitting, but I was sure she had seven-colored hair--led us all in a systematic cheer: freshmen first, then sophomores, juniors, seniors, then all of us at once.

I cheered with the rest, but my heart wasn't really in it. And thanks to the sheer volume, neither were my vocal cords: I was left unable to speak without coughing for the next half hour. I promised myself afterwards that even if I had to go to these rallies, I was never going to actively partake in them again.

For some reason, I didn't see any flaming hair where all the 10th-graders were seated. I didn't like it, but I wasn't going to speculate why.

During lunchtime, I was called to the Vice Principal's office. While there, I learned of a minor incident that had taken place earlier that morning...

Sunset checked up and down both hallways, making sure no one was present: virtually everyone was at the pep rally, but it didn't hurt to be careful. In the distance, she could hear the student body roaring in approval as Rainbow Dash got them worked up over the upcoming Homecoming game. She smiled and nodded: the path was clear.

Walking up to Puma's locker without fear, she turned the dials in the order she'd been given by her eavesdropping cohorts. ...There. Let's see what we've got! She pulled the door open...

"CAT LOVES FOOD, YEH-YEAH YEAH YEAH---"

Yelping in surprise as lyrics were spontaneously belted at her, Sunset slammed the door shut. As if prompted, the song abruptly cut off. Her eyes flicked from side to side anxiously, and she breathed a quiet sigh when no one went to investigate the disturbance. What... what was that about? What was that?!

Across the city, outside Crystal Prep...

Sour Sweet smiled down at her smartphone, a gesture that didn't reach her heart. "You're a nice piece of uncooperative technology, yes you are," she cooed. "Now be a dear and stop misdialing my mom's phone number!"

"You and I both know that you're dialing fast enough to hit the wrong buttons; it's hardly the phone's fault. Now stop talking to that thing like it's your companion cube and try again," Sugarcoat chastised her, wondering not for the first time why she had been the one tasked with seeing her classmate off.

"You bet your motor mouth I will," Sour snarled, already setting to work.

Bracing herself, Sunset slowly turned the lock and opened the door again...

"CAT LOVES FOOD, YEH-YEAH YEAH YEAH! CAT LOVES FOOD, YEH-YEAAAHHH!..."

This time, instead of backing off at the blaring song, she quickly scanned the locker for any signs of what she was looking for. There wasn't much there, just a few textbooks from classes likely meant for later that day. There weren't any folders or binders kept in there, and the locker itself was devoid of any sort of decorations or identifying marks. And of course, there was the cellphone sitting on the shelf singing its non-existent head off.

Sunset shook her head. Well, that was a complete wash. I guess that huge bag he likes to carry around really isn't just for show. She gave the textbooks an appraising look. Still, I wonder---

"Hello. Please leave your message after the tone," a friendly pre-recorded voice spoke up, cutting off the obnoxious ringtone.

Sunset paused. Ignoring the possibility of Puma being too lazy to record a greeting of his own, there was the chance that she could glean a detail or two of what he was like outside of school if she listened in---

"Hello, Mom? This is Sour Sweet," an overly friendly, almost saccharine voice said over the phone, killing that hope instantly. "Sorry for bothering you. I was wondering something..." And then the voice shifted to a full-on screech that blasted at Sunset's ears even from several feet away. She was certain that the entire locker was vibrating. "I'm standing outside the school, and you said you'd pick me up to meet my psychiatrist this morning! Where the flying &@$¦%^╬ are you?!..."

Sunset wasted no additional time, closing the locker and hastily retreating as whoever that was on the phone launched into a tirade. No, she forcefully told herself. Whoever that is, I want no part of it!

...

It turned out to be for the best that Sunset wasn't more thorough in her search, unnerved as she was by the ringtone and Sour's message. Taped to one side of the locker and hidden from sight by the books were several illustrations, depicting events that had taken place in one of Puma and his friends' role-playing sessions. While it wasn't a given that they'd be of any use to Sunset, they would've still made Puma look fairly ridiculous when taken out of context.

...

A short while later, as students began to return to the halls after the rally ended, the locker-based duet of Yamcha and a harpy finally got someone's attention. Puma, already armed with the books he'd need for the rest of the morning, never turned up to investigate. The VP, on the other hand...

"...And you're positive you don't know who that caller was?" Luna asked as she looked over my cell phone's records.

"Yes," I said, feeling ill at ease in the Vice Principal's office. I liked dark rooms, don't get me wrong, but I still felt like I was in trouble for something I wasn't aware of.

"There's no one enrolled here by that name, so given the relative age and the local area code I can only imagine that it was someone from Crystal Prep," Luna mused aloud. One corner of her eye twitched. "...Someone more anxious to meet their therapist than is really healthy. She left ten messages on your phone chewing out her mother for not picking her up from school." She looked up at me. "I don't need to tell you to either keep your phone set on Silent or else leave it at home, do I?"

"Any e-excuse to prove to my parents t-that I didn't need that thing a-after all," I agreed, shivering as I accepted my "punishment" (such as it was).

"Good. Meantime, I'll get in contact with their faculty and get this straightened out," Luna said with a smile before she returned my phone and subsequently dismissed me.

...

After Puma left, Luna flicked the lights back on and dialed up Crystal Prep, softly humming to herself as she waited for Dean Cadence to answer. "Cat loves food, yeh-yeah yeah yeah..."

Later in October, at the local mall...

Sunset took a few moments to give the person who greeted her an appraisal: lemon-colored skin, short magenta-shaded spiky hair, slightly rounded face on an otherwise average figure, a T-shirt advertising a prominent pro wrestling league, and a wristband with a spiralling silver star on his right arm. So this is the kid who likes making Puma's life problematic, huh?

"- - -from that skinny snail kid you wanted to see me," Dallas Austin was saying. "Sunset Shimmer, right?"

Sunset nodded. "The one and only. Did Snails tell you why?"

"Just that it was about Puma." Dallas smirked. "You're not gonna tell me to stop, queen bee?"

That nickname's been going around an awful lot. It's not a bad thing, but it's still not my first choice. "No. If anything, I want you to ramp it up. Do not give him a moment's rest as long as the both of you are on school grounds. As long as it won't get you caught by the staff, then anything's fair game."

Dallas stared at Sunset with incomprehension for a few moments before his smirk returned. "Oh-ho, I get it now. He got you mad, didn't he? What, did he catch a cold and wouldn't stop snorting in class? ...'Cause that's how he got me mad. Wasn't sure if it was the same with you."

Juvenille and petty. I should've expected it. "More or less. Are you up for it?"

Dallas gave her a mock salute. "Always am, chief," he said before turning and walking away.

The little filly of yester-year would've been frightened by the smile that framed Sunset's face. As she was now, she was delighted with it. Now all that's left to do is to sit back and watch the fireworks.

...Hmm. Come to think of it, I'm running low on popcorn.

The next day...

"Hey Puma, my man! What's up!"

Oh please, not now, I grumbled mentally as I finished my business at my locker. Today had felt longer than usual, and I wanted nothing more than to get home and hide from the rest of the world. "Yeah? What is it, Dallas? I gotta get home."

"This won't take long," he promised. "I heard that you got this book about the Portland Trail Blazers. Can I look at it?"

"No," I said as I shut my locker and walked off down the hall.

As stubborn as he was, Dallas wasn't going to leave me alone just because I said a single word. He kept pace with me as I headed toward the lobby. "Aw, c'mon! Just a peek? I won't damage it, I swear!"

"I said 'no'," I stated a bit loudly. I yanked my bag away when Dallas tried reaching for the zipper. "Stop that."

"Dude, just let me see the book," Dallas said, visibly starting to get angry. Behind him, I could see some other students starting to gather around as the confrontation got their attention. "You don't need to be so greedy about it."

Do I seriously look like a kettle to you, muffin man? "You're just going to steal it or rip it up. Just go away."

"Yeah? How do you know I'm going to take it and keep it? Are you psychic or something?" Dallas asked, still trying to open the bag and get the book.

"Because that's what you're trying to do right now!" I tore the bag out of his grasp one more time, deciding that the only way I was going to get away from him was to make a break for it.

I didn't get too far, though: Dallas caught up to me before I managed four steps down the hall. Off to one side I noticed Sunset Shimmer leaning against a wall, idly chewing popcorn as she watched things play out. Really? That old cliche?

The struggle didn't last long, likely because we were both trying to avoid the attention of any teachers that hadn't left their classrooms yet. "Look," I said with a grimace. "You want this book so badly? Here. Just take it!" I took out the book in question and slammed it into Dallas's hands, disgusted. That's thirty dollars I'm never going to get back.

Dallas looked over the book's cover, suddenly looking unsure. "This is it? This is the one? I thought this was one of those five dollar deals from last year's book fair. You're not holding out on me, are ya?"

"That cost me a lot more than five dollars, trust me," I snarled. "I grew up watching the Trail Blazers. You expect me to be cheap about it?"

"...Huh." Dallas took a few moments to thumb through the book. "Cool." He made as if to put the book in his backpack...

...then immediately spun in the opposite direction and chucked the book at Sunset, much to both my surprise and hers.

Sunset's eyes widened to the fullest at Dallas's action. Dropping her popcorn, she slammed her hands together and caught the hardcover book between them. Her internal tea kettle started whistling when she realized that it had come barely half a foot from catching her in the throat. Why, of all the little... "Dallas. Freaking. Austin," she uttered, her voice threatening to catch fire. She let go of the book and let it fall to the floor. "You're going to pay for that, and I don't mean in cash."

To his credit, the bully was doing a good job of ignoring the situation he was in. "What, you didn't think what I did was funny?" he asked with a smirk.

"No person in their right mind would think that was funny," Sunset hissed as she started towards him. "You and I have a date in the Principal's office. C'mere!"

"^!(^ђ*# you, Shimmercakes!" Dallas shouted cheerfully as he took off running, quickly losing himself in a crowd of students with stunned-fish expressions.

Sunset contemplated pursuing him and laying down the law, but decided he would keep for later. Besides that, she had glimpsed Vice Principal Luna already heading in his direction at a brisk walk, likely intending to read Dallas the riot act for his behavior. After glaring down the hall with enough heat to figuratively burn through walls, Sunset relaxed her expression and walked away, shaking her head and pretending that everyone were dust mites beneath her boots. I don't know what's worse: that my intention to use him as an extra lackey backfired, or that he's acting the same way Lightning Dust did before she moved out of town. Wonder if he could end up being a threat to my position at some point...

...Eh, not likely. He may be this side of mean-spirited, but it doesn't seem like he always thinks things through. If he had, he'd likely be more satisfied with his antagonism of Puma instead of lumping me in along with him. I have to wonder if he even pays attention to the social norms around here, or if he thinks they don't matter so long as he gets to live his life the way he wants.

In any event...

A look to the left.

A look to the right.

...

"Well, if she's not going to have it..." I said to myself, picking up both my book and the bag of popcorn Sunset had dropped, helping myself to the latter's contents as I left for home. The afternoon was looking up already.

A few weeks later...

The "Mr. Canterlot" competition, hosted every November in CHS's gymnasium, was devoted entirely to the oddities of the male mind. It consisted of three rounds:

First, the competitors would be asked a series of questions about how they enjoyed their time at school, their hobbies, post-graduation plans, their ultimate goals in life, that sort of thing. On the whole it was relatively tame, and it allowed others a different kind of look at those they thought they knew.

The second round was basically a talent show, where the guys were allowed to show off something or other that they enjoyed doing or otherwise were very good at. Points were allotted for creativity.

The third and final round was pure eye candy. Much to the delight of any girls present, the guys would attempt to show off just how awesome they looked in swim trunks. Yes, that's really a thing.

Sunset was loathe to admit it, but the third round had always been her favorite. The downside of being a grownup in a teenager's body was that the desires of the mind and the hormones of the temple tended to clash, and the first time she'd set eyes on the competition the desires never stood a chance. Flash had been a nice guy even before then, but it was last year's contest that convinced her that he would be the one she'd latch on to if she wanted to be well-known.

'The mind is a plaything of the body,' she wryly quoted to herself as she sat in the gymnasium and waited for the show to begin.

I fixed my computer screen with a glare as I tried my hand once again at one of my brother's old games. "Look, you idiot," I growled irritably, "you're not supposed to wander into the glowing green poisonous crystals. The sandbags are there for a reason, you know!"

"Puma?" my Mom called from elsewhere in the house. "Who are you talking to?"

"Just complaining to myself, Mom!" I called back, waiting until I received confirmation from her before returning my attention to the game.

...Just in time as the villager once again decided to wander into a tiberium patch and buy a farm there, so to speak. "Your mission was a failure," the game told me.

"Oh, for crying out loud...!"

The next day...

Sunset slammed her locker shut and stormed off, not bothering to tell Snails 'thanks, good-bye' after receiving an answer to her inquiry. Of course. Of course! That plan was supposed to be simple and to the point! How was I supposed to know that Puma was best friends with the freshman class president? That would've given him enough pull to have Puma's name stricken from the entry list!

... Her face contorted a little and turned a bit green. Immediately she reversed course and made a detour for the nearest restroom. On second thought, maybe it's for the best that he didn't compete. There are some mental images that I can do without!

"...Ms. Redheart?"

"Ah, Sunset Shimmer. Something wrong? You don't sound too good."

"Throat hurts. Feeling kinda sick."

"I can help with that. What happened? Did you catch a cold?"

"No. Got a mental image of an obese guy in swim trunks. Felt like throwing up."

"...And so you did?"

"Yeah. Violently."

"..."

"Maybe it's best if you don't attend next year's Mr. Canterlot."

"I'm so down with that idea."

Sunset left Nurse Redheart's office a few minutes later, massaging her throat and hoping that the cough syrup she was given kicked in quickly.

So... none of my plans for Puma have worked out so far. There was always a possibility of that happening, but I didn't think it would actually come about. Underestimations of his cluelessness, random chance, and to a lesser extent a lack of knowledge have conspired to thwart me up until now. That last one is easily remedied, but still... how does one cheat against a guy who doesn't even know the rules?

Her self-imposed dilemma bothered her all the way back to her home, and continued to do so even as she tried to study for her next test. Sunset was bothered by her failures so far; they were little things, sure, but as far back as she could remember she'd always been like that. Anything that she saw as a failure when she was young, even if it was something as minute as using her fledgling telekinesis to try watering a plant and having some of it spill off to the side, grated at her temper until it could be dealt with.

The easiest thing to do would be to just forget about Puma and move on, focusing her efforts elsewhere. He was just one person, and a fool at that. Connection to the class president aside he was hardly influential, nor did he seem to care. But therein lay the problem with striving for perfection: as someone who was destined for greatness, Sunset could hardly let things go just like that...

...

She sighed, looking down at her bed and her scattered notes she'd taken of her textbook's latest chapter. Sadly, my history homework isn't just going to finish itself. Mr. Jefferson, you may have done a lot of good for this country, but Tartarus if writing an essay about your Declaration of Independence isn't a pain in the tail.

Setting aside her vendetta until a day when she wasn't swamped in homework, Sunset picked up her notes and got back to work. She may not have planned to stay on this side of the mirror for more than another ten months or so, but she liked to think she still had some pride as an academic.

...

Cat loves food, yeh-yeah yeah yeah...

...

Facepalm. Blast it.

Author's Note

Lengthy chapter, lengthy notes.

Differences

Puma had already decided during his freshman year that he didn't want anything to do with the school rallies from that point on. It took another year and a half or so for me to decide the same thing. All I can figure is that Rainbow Dash was simply that good at getting others to cheer for the sake of school spirit. The thing is, Puma's voice isn't the greatest: if he raises his voice to speak up too often, it puts undue stress on his vocal cords and makes him start coughing, making cheering too much of a hassle.

I had that problem, plus little to no desire to sit among everyone. Never did like crowds, and I never did like trying to speak over them. You'd be surprised at just how noisy it could get at Tiger Stadium, even when Detroit was doing poorly enough to warrant low attendance figures.

I don't like cellphones, smartphones and such, either. To me they're just one more thing I'd have to carry around everyday, and it's not like I'm much of a social person. Also, if I had anything like that in high school, people would've inevitably tried to steal it from me or damage it in some fashion: the above incident involving the gym showers and Puma's schoolbag has basis in reality. In contrast, Puma doesn't have much of a choice.

A simpler one is that I grew up in Michigan, and ended up becoming a fan of several major Detroit-based sports teams. I'm kind of inclined to believe that CHS is located somewhere in the USA along the Pacific coast (or close equivalent), given the presence of snow-capped mountains in the background and a beach within driving distance, so it makes sense to me that Puma would be a fan of the teams in that area instead.

Other

For the curious, Puma was playing the first Command & Conquer game while Plan E was in progress. One of the missions in the game involved protecting a scientist and a group of villagers, keeping them from dying either to enemy attack or to the tiberium scattered around. And yes, the mission was as irritating as the scene indicated. Thankfully, if you knew what you were doing and what missions you selected, it was optional.

I don't know if other high schools have had anything like the "Mr. Canterlot" competition. I knew the school I attended did, but my knowledge of how it went was (and still is) lacking, including when exactly it took place. All I know is that during my freshman year, there was a rumor circulating that people were trying to enter me in said competition without my say-so. The freshman class president told me that if I wanted he could try to deal with that problem himself. I don't know whether his efforts paid off or if the rumor was a hoax, but either way I never heard another thing about it.

Lastly, when I started this story I'd intended for it to take place in 2012. However, the episode of Dragon Ball Z Abridged that featured Puma's ringtone was released in 2013. If I wanted him to have that ringtone, I would need to set it in that time span instead. No points for guessing what my decision was.

Red Vs. Blue

Eaten breakfast: check.

Duffel bag with necessary supplies: check.

Fully dressed and ready to leave: check.

...

Bottle of soda pop from the refrigerator: check.

I told my parents good-bye and stepped out the front door towards my destiny.

...

Hi, guys. My name's Puma Claw, and I had just left to start my first day at Canterlot High School.

Life at CHS was something that I'd previously only read about in my older brothers' Yearbooks. I used to flip through them and look at pictures of people that I would never meet, of teachers that my siblings used to talk about (and sometimes make fun of). I'd look at the "Senior Will and Testament" that was printed, describing what students would leave behind to the underclassmen (whether for real or in jest, I never knew). I wondered at times what things were like, what spawned the comments of those who left their autographs at the back of the book. I distinctly remember one such comment that suggested that their Government teacher let them play "Risk" in class on occasion.

As I walked the mile and a quarter that rested between my house and the school, I found myself dreading it. According to one of my older sisters, the last one of our family to have graduated from there before me, she'd found the environment very welcoming. The Principal and Vice-Principal did their best to help the students where possible, and the upperclassmen had supposedly mellowed out a little from their junior high years. Nonetheless, my time in school from kindergarten through the 8th grade had been anything but welcoming, so I didn't believe that things would be any different.

Surprisingly, things went pretty well my first day for the most part (discounting a minor incident where I misread my schedule and ended up in gym when I should have been in Algebra, but that's neither here nor there). For whatever reason, I didn't see the nuisance that had plagued me during my time in junior high; you'd think a kid with lemon yellow skin and magenta hair would have been easy to spot. In any case, I wasn't about to argue.

Though I didn't know it at the time, I was about to gain another nuisance in my life.

You've got plenty of computer languages floating around. Java, Python, C++, Cobol, RPG, just to name a few (and to you gamers out there, that last one isn't what you're thinking of). Thing is, learning computer programming is like learning music: before you start playing Beethoven's 'Fur Elise', you've first got to learn which note gets played where. And for learning which piece of code goes where, there's no better starting point than Visual Basic. Early on I was interested in programming, so when I found out that CHS offered a class for it I decided it was a good place to begin.

My 5th hour programming class was a mix of students from all four grade levels, but for the time being I'm only going to focus on two of said students. One of them was sitting in a far corner of the classroom near a window when I got to class, staring at a computer screen dejectedly and looking as if she'd been crying recently. She cringed when I took the seat next to hers, but over time she relaxed when it became apparent that I was more interested in trying out the typing program that someone in the previous class had left open than in talking to her. Were I anyone else, her attitude would have struck me as off.

(I would find out later during roll call that her name was Fluttershy, and that her reason for taking a programming course was purely magnanimous: she volunteered her time at an animal shelter, and the computers used there occasionally had issues with their programs and data. It was her hope that someday she could understand computers well enough to help operations there run more smoothly, hence her desire to take several related courses. In her opinion, every minute saved through efficiency could be spent helping animals find decent homes or otherwise caring for them.)

The other person---who, in my opinion, was dressed rather tastelessly---looked like she intended to sit in the back row as well. She stopped when she saw me, scowled and shook her head, then took a seat at the computer in the row in front of us. I just shrugged and continued typing; she hadn't said or done anything yet, so I didn't react to her presence. At least, not yet.

There was a flash of green out the corner of my eye, but I chalked it up to an artificial plant and continued typing.

Sunset Shimmer started the day in a foul mood.

It was bad enough that she was never much of a morning person. She wasn't the type to wake up bright and cheery, as if life itself shone down on her with a wondrous radiance. No, she would much rather tell mornings to take a long walk off a short pier and leave her alone. Belatedly, she remembered an old comic she'd seen once about an obese housecat who threatened his sunrise-watching owner with violence just for waking him up before dawn.

It quickly got much worse, though, when her brain forced her eyes out of Sleep Mode and she saw the calendar pinned to a wall, with a very specific date circled in red. She didn't think she'd ever gotten ready and arrived to her classes so quickly even as a young filly, but a soft growling reminded her that it came at the cost of breakfast.

Thank small mercies for half-days. As soon as classes are over, I'm going home and getting some food, not that ridiculous stuff stashed in the vending machine. The idea of a croissant egg-sausage-cheese sandwich never sounded so good, microwaved or not.

She barely remembered to direct a smile at Flash Sentry as he walked past her in the hallway on the way to his own classes, then she resumed glaring at everyone and everything. A few freshmen she passed in the hallway recoiled and backed away when they saw her, clearly not wanting to mess with her. And if that's not enough, whenever I walk past the statue, I'm reminded that Celestia chose another student behind my back. I don't know whether she took her in when she began thinking she wasn't getting anywhere with me or not, and I don't care; just the thought of it burns me.

Steaming like an unattended crockpot, Sunset marched into the computer room. Sneering a little when she saw Fluttershy in the corner, she decided to take her temper out on her and made a beeline for the back row... only to find that someone beat her there.

The student sitting there in her intended seat, his fingers flying across the keyboard, was obviously a freshman. He had gray skin a shade darker than Derpy Hooves', short brown hair in a crew cut, with a blue shirt and jeans, and he looked like he'd been hitting the snacks harder than Babe Ruth ever hit baseballs. A set of stylized, criss-crossing yellow claw marks---his cutie mark, had he been born a pony---were sewn into both shoulders of his shirt. His gaze flicked up to her as she frowned in displeasure and took a different seat, then he shrugged and continued minding his own business.

Another time, then. Fluttershy will keep for now... bell's about to ring.

She had just enough time before the bell rang to wonder when this particular classroom had gained an artificial plant.

...

It wasn't the first time that Wallflower Blush had accidentally slipped beneath everyone's notice, and it wouldn't be the last.

I've never been a good judge of people. Probably never will, either.

I heard the name "Sunset Shimmer" for the first time when the teacher was handling the roll-call. Most of the names would probably sound strange wherever you're from, but for me it was just another one out of sixteen, maybe seventeen students. Besides, what's in a name? A miserable little pile of secrets?

...Okay, that one was bad. Sorry.

Anyway, as the teacher gave her introductory speech and talked a little about herself, I kept giving curious looks over to Fluttershy. She was seated at an angle where that flame-haired girl was in her line of sight, so as she was paying attention to the teacher she kept cringing whenever her eyes drifted in Sunset's direction. I didn't understand what the deal was, but as I didn't want to interrupt the class solely to bring it up with her, I just kept quiet.

Closer to the end of class, when most of the students were either chatting, playing Solitaire or the like, the teacher approached me with a friendly smile. "Excuse me, Puma Claw?" she asked. "Do you have an older sister named 'Cougar Claw'?"

I heard one of my classmates snicker at this, but I didn't get why. "Yes," I confirmed. "How come?"

"Could you tell her that Jacqueline Trades says hello?" the teacher requested. "We were classmates here at CHS back in the day."

Huh. That's neat. "Sure," I agreed with a nod and a thin smile, returning my attention to my typing.

...

That laughter I heard while I was talking to the teacher continued to bug me, though. Just after the bell rang and I'd gathered my things together, I turned to ask a person who didn't look like she'd be inclined to tease me about it---which happened to be the girl most bothered by Sunset's presence. "Excuse me, but do you know why that kid was laughing when he heard my sister's name?" I asked her.

/-/-/-/-/-/

As Sunset went to her next class, she kept up a conversation with one of her lackeys. She didn't know why Snips had any sort of interest in computing, and she wasn't sure that she wanted to know. "I'm not getting the joke," she was saying. "Whoever his sister is, the name's not that funny."

/-/-/-/-/-/

Fluttershy recoiled and shrunk in on herself a little when Puma spoke to her, but straightened when she realized the source of his confusion. "Um... you don't happen to like cats, do you?"

/-/-/-/-/-/

"You seriously don't know what a 'cougar' is?" Snips laughed, catching himself when Sunset directed a frown at him. "...What is your opinion of cats, anyway?"

/-/-/-/-/-/

"I think they're cool. Why?"

/-/-/-/-/-/

"About the same as any other animal, Snips. Why?"

/-/-/-/-/-/

"...I realize this sounds strange, but a 'cougar'..."

/-/-/-/-/-/

"Then you won't be too offended. A 'cougar'..."

/-/-/-/-/-/

"...is an older woman who wants to have sex with a younger man."

/-/-/-/-/-/

"..."

According to what I was told later, my face was somewhere in the vicinity of "stricken". I opened my mouth a few times and tried to give some sort of reply, but my brain wasn't cooperating.

Fluttershy closed her eyes for a moment and sighed. "Sorry if it's a shock," she murmured as she turned and left.

I allotted my brain one more chance to boot up, then gave up and shook my head. "This is going to be an interesting year," I growled to myself as I followed Fluttershy's lead.

/-/-/-/-/-/

"...You're making that up," Sunset deadpanned.

"I'm telling you, that's the real definition!" Snips protested. "Look it up!"

Sunset shivered as she tried---and failed---to keep certain mental images out of her head. If someone created and patented brain bleach, I'd buy stock in the company. "Ridiculous topics aside, you and Snails just keep doing what you've been doing," she uttered in a quieter tone. "Keep a discreet eye on things and let me know if anyone gets too uppity."

"No problem!" Snips reassured her before breaking away towards his next class, whatever it was.

Sunset looked ahead, smiling softly. Those who saw her kept their eyes on their own business to keep from drawing her attention. Much as I'm looking forward to leaving this place for good next year, I think part of me's going to miss this routine. "This is going to be an interesting year," she said to herself, her voice somewhere between a hiss and a whisper.

/-/-/-/-/-/

"Let the good times roll."

Author's Note

This story is a personal experiment. How would I, not as a teenager with the mind of an adult but as a teenager with the mind of a teenager handle life at Canterlot High? This would mean taking a complete look at myself and thinking back to how I handled events as an adolescent, with all the flaws, stupidity and simple-mindedness that entailed. For better or worse I saw life differently from most of my peers, and it wasn't until after I'd grown up that I finally understood why.

To put it another way: this isn't your standard self-insertion, and I hope with everything I have that the protagonist doesn't get misconstrued as a Mary Sue (or close equivalent). This isn't the story of a guy who becomes best friends with one of the main characters thanks to wish fulfillment, or possesses a unique ability of some kind that gets him in everyone's good books, or punches out a would-be villain and scribbles "I was beaten by a bunch of kids" on the back of his neck. No. It's the story of an idiotic fat kid who enters life at CHS at the worst possible time: when Sunset Shimmer's reign over the school is at its peak.

So, yeah: if my character seems rather dense and lacking in knowledge, it's for a good reason: this is how I used to be, and to some extent still am. Enjoy, everyone. >^_^<

Differences

My own reaction to finding out what 'cougar' meant was much different from that of Puma's. When I first discovered it some years ago, I was heavily---albeit inwardly---offended, and for good reason: the high school I went to used a cougar (as in the cat) as its mascot, and I had difficulty reconciling the different meanings of the word. In Puma's case, I didn't think it was likely that any of the schools he went to used a cat of any kind for a mascot, never mind Canterlot High; in addition he's about eleven or so years younger than I had been, meaning he's less mature, world-wise and cynical. Thus his reaction would've been more stunned than truly upset or mad.

The Beach Boys Were Right

I'd first found out about Crystal Prep High and their rivalry with CHS at the Homecoming pep rally. The rainbow-haired inspirer, who apparently was part of a chunk of the school's sports teams, had made it a point to drill into everyone's heads just how important it was that they snap some kind of losing streak against CPH that stretched more than a decade. To her credit she did a good job of getting everyone going, and at the (American) football game that weekend, the team was primed to win.

Not that it mattered. I found out later via the school newspaper, the CHS Express, that by the time the game was over, CPH had doubled Canterlot's score easily and left said motivator steaming in the stands.

Autumn wore on, and my life went on. Following the altercation between Dallas Austin and Sunset Shimmer--after which the former experienced detention for several days afterward--I experienced little in the way of trouble aside from the usual. That "usual" had something tacked on to it, though: Sunset had taken a page out of Dallas's book and started ribbing me and taunting me at every opportunity, likely just trying to amuse herself until she could come up with something better. I tried my best to ignore her, but that just made it more difficult.

I read Highlights for Children for years as a kid, and their general advice for dealing with that brand of idiot is to ignore them. They want a reaction out of you, and if they don't get it, they're likely to leave you alone on account of brick walls not being good conversationalists. For some reason, however, my lack of response to Sunset's actions just made her angrier and inclined to get on my case even more, trying to seek out new ways of making me mad. At least Dallas took actual breaks in-between bullying.

There weren't many ways I could deal with it, beyond occasionally speaking to someone on the staff about it. The best I could really do otherwise was to try to find alternate routes to my classes where possible, or try to slip away whenever I saw her approach. So really, I tended to be more of a cardboard wall instead.

It didn't help that each time I talked to the staff, later Sunset would walk past me, slowly turn to face me, and flash a smile that would do Jetstream Sam proud.

The weeks passed one after another, the Thanksgiving break transitioned into December, and Christmas decorations began reproducing at a rapid rate throughout the city. Seriously. If you leave some tinsel and a pack of Christmas lights together in the same room overnight, then you'll have a window-display Santa Claus, a tree, fake presents and snow when you return in the morning. I am not kidding.

Early in December towards the end of yet another day, Principal Celestia made a school-wide announcement:

~"Attention, please. Attention. This is an open invitation to all students. As most of you may know, the girls' varsity basketball team is set to open their season against Crystal Prep this Friday at 7:00pm. In an effort to increase support, we're giving everyone who attends the game the opportunity to receive extra credit and apply it to a class of their choice. What you will need to do after the final buzzer sounds is write a single-spaced report, preferably a full page in length, about your experience at the game and how it applies to your chosen class, then submit your report to your instructor next Monday. To reiterate..."~

Normally I wasn't one for school sports or essays, but grade-wise I wasn't doing too great... at least, not on the math front. In addition to the constant difficulty I was having getting to my first class on time, algebra wasn't sinking into my brain as well as it should have been. If my performance didn't improve, I was looking at a possible 'F' on my next report card. With that in mind, I talked to my parents later and got their permission to attend the game on Friday.

Connecting a basketball game to mathematics couldn't be that hard.

Sunset put her pencil down and gave her assignments one last look-over. Satisfied, she put them away and fell backwards across her bed, not having much else to do for the moment.

Like Puma she wasn't one for school sports, having much bigger things in mind. The prospect of getting more extra credit was an enticing one, though. The more she had, the longer her scholastic record would remain spotless. Her inner academic and perfectionist squealed with joy at the thought of it.

And it isn't like I have anything important to do. Everything's falling into place at CHS. For the most part, the students are associating with whom I want them to be with, and no one's trifling with me in stupid ways like Dallas Austin did. Never mind the end of the year--by the end of the semester, the situation should be just about perfect.

She frowned, her thoughts souring. Aside from Puma Claw, but that's to be expected. If I'm to have any success with him, I'll probably need to alienate his friends from lunch first. That's an idea for another time, though.

Now, then... how does one go about applying basketball to art class...?

On the day of the game, the weather took a turn for the worse. The temperature had dropped steadily over the course of the week, and finally late on Friday afternoon, the overhead clouds decided to drop snow on us in waves.

My parents asked me if I wanted to be driven to the game that night. Like a stubborn git, I told them 'no'. It wasn't the first time I'd walked to school in the snow and ice, and in the dark, no less. I believed I could handle it without issue.

Didn't change the fact that I had to bundle up like no one's business. A heavy winter coat that I didn't especially like, gloves, hat, scarf, boots...even a massive set of tinted goggles to protect my eyes. I looked in the mirror before I left, and I couldn't even recognize myself.

Normally it takes me about half an hour to walk a mile and a quarter, but that's if I wasn't experiencing delays. The snow and wind tacked on an extra fifteen minutes to that total (no thanks to me slipping and almost falling at least half a dozen times), so I was bitter cold by the time I got to the school, even with the extra layers. I didn't feel like getting out of them yet, so I kept them on even as the game drew closer to its starting time.

There was quite a crowd on hand. Fellow CHS students who wanted the extra credit, a decent number of locals--a few of whom I recognized--who were into high school basketball, even a fair number of students and fans associated with Crystal Prep. The bleachers were filling up fast, and it didn't look like I'd be able to see the game if I sat on the floor, so I selected a section at random and hurried to take an unclaimed spot in the top row.

Now that I was really seeing the gym from a good vantage point for the first time, it looked like they were even bringing in extra chairs from the cafeteria and placing them wherever there was space. Certainly aren't messing around, are they?

"Eeeesh... cold outside, isn't it? Can't say I blame you for staying prepared."

Abruptly, I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the lingering effects of the weather. I glanced up in time to see Sunset Shimmer, who had taken her own precautions in dealing with the snowstorm, taking a seat next to me. A few more spectators followed suit on either side of us, closing us in.

Double crud and a half...

Whoever he is, I think it's safe to say he hates being cold, and I don't blame him. Canterlot at its worst was never this bad.

Sunset stuffed her hat and gloves into a coat pocket and looked at the heavily-dressed person sitting next to her, wondering why he wasn't saying anything before shrugging and turning her attention elsewhere. No skin off my teeth if he's not talkative. All the better for me. Means I can focus on this instead. She took out a notepad and jotted a few things down, looking up at the gym's scoreboard. Four minutes until game time...

Vvrrrm... vvrrrm...

I was incredibly thankful not only for the fact that Sunset didn't seem to recognize me, but for the fact that I'd followed Vice Principal Luna's "suggestion" and set my phone on 'vibrate'. I took it out and answered it. "Mm-hmm?" I mumbled past my scarf.

"Hello?" I heard my Mom asking. "Did you get there alright?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Good. That's alright. We'll see you after the game. Call us if you need a ride home, alright?"

"Mm-hmm. Hm-hm."

"Bye-bye."

I hung up, switched off the phone and put it away. Whoever decided that mumbling ought to be its own language is an absolute genius.

Sunset kept one eye on the stranger next to her, unsure what that last exchange was about. Well, that wasn't suspicious at all. What in the world was that?

It reminded her of why she didn't like this set of circumstances. Knowledge was power, but at the same time it was worthless if you weren't able to hear it. Taking the chatty natures of everyone in the crowd around her into account, it made singling out individual conversations next to impossible.

I'd better watch him, she thought as both teams moved into position for the start of the game. If he even thinks about trying anything funny, then I'd better be ready to nail him before he tries.

A whistle blew, and the game began with CHS taking possession on the jump ball.

Rainbow Dash drew first blood for the Wondercolts, scoring on the team's first possession. That would be the only basket they'd get for the next few minutes, and Crystal Prep gained an early lead that they'd be hard-pressed to surrender.

Sunset watched silently, her chin at rest on her hand. She made no sound whatsoever, giving no indication that she was for either side. Inside, her mind was burning as she inwardly composed her essay for submission. Every now and then she took a few notes, not wanting to forget some minor detail or another.

The entire time, she kept one eye on the stranger sitting next to her. Whoever he was--assuming it was a he--didn't cheer either, which made things look a bit more suspicious in her mind. She was half-tempted to pull the person's goggles up over his eyes to see who she was, but she stopped herself. I can think of a few scenarios where that would go horribly wrong, Sunset mused, grimacing. She shivered as a follow-up thought struck her, her hands tightening. If worst comes to worst, then I refuse to die far from home to a magic-less psychopath. I swear, this world's all sorts of wrong if those kinds of occurrences are getting more and more frequent.

And if this is the kind of person who'd happily torch his surroundings while whistling oldies music, that would just be adding insult to injury.

The game continued on while she was lost in thought, paying her ambitions and fears no mind.

I'm really starting to hate playing against these guys. No matter how hard we try, it never feels like it's good enough!

Rainbow Dash wasn't having a good first quarter. She'd managed to score first, but the Shadowbolts got the hang of her play style relatively quickly and forced her to take shots she wasn't comfortable with. At least the rest of the team is doing their best to keep it from becoming a blowout, she grumbled silently, taking solace in that fact.

Seeing an opportunity, she snaked her hand in and smacked the ball away from her opponent in mid-dribble. Snatching it, she charged down the court and deftly positioned herself at courtside just outside the 3-point line, jumping to shoot.

She almost didn't see the same Shadowbolt she'd stolen the ball from take a running leap in her direction, swatting the ball with all her strength into the stands. Rainbow looked back as she landed to see where it had went...

...and immediately slammed both hands over her mouth to stifle the laughter that threatened to escape.

Looking back at what happened, I think the reason I hadn't acted was because I was feeling the slightest bit vindictive towards Sunset for her general behavior up to that point. I could've reached out and intercepted the ball, tried to warn her, something. Instead I scooted as far off to the side as I could on the pretense of getting out of the way, watching as the basketball ricocheted upwards off her forehead with a fairly satisfying WOING noise and flinching at the referee's whistle. It was only after the ball bounced off the wall behind us that I bothered to grab it, chucking it one-handed back over to the court.

As a split second observation, that rainbow-haired girl was trying her absolute hardest not to laugh. I guessed that she wasn't on good terms with Sunset either and didn't give it another thought.

The Shadowbolt who made the rejection--I never got her name, I just remember she had lime green hair--caught the ball and handed it to the referee. "Um... sorry about that?" she called up to us over the crowd's grumbling, making it sound more like a question than a genuine apology.

I gave a thumbs-up, hoping the gesture got the message across. She grinned and returned it, evidently understanding what I meant, then turned away to focus on the game.

On the other hand, Sunset was anything but okay. She had a hand on her forehead, and despite the gym's lighting, most of her face was in shadow. She was muttering a collection of curses and profanities against sports and the world in general, and those closest to us were trying to edge away as far as they could without falling off the bleachers. Never mind glaring daggers; when she let her hand fall down her face and her eyes came into view, she was glaring honest-to-goodness swords at the culprit. Part of me wondered whether she was going to try to leave and go after her, but happily she was able to force her anger under control after a little while.

"So. Friend of yours?" one of the Shadowbolts snarked at Rainbow when she got close enough, nodding in the general direction of Sunset.

"Oh, don't even get me started," Rainbow retorted with a smirk, finally buckling down as the game continued. You know, they'd probably be alright if they weren't so smug all the time.

I take back what I was thinking. Sunset gave the heavy-set person a quick look that was half irritation, half bemusement. He's not a potential psychopath. He's just a jerk.

Focus, Sunset. If you don't focus, you won't get that extra credit. Stop worrying about yourself for a moment and keep your eyes on the game.

...Ugh. Maybe I should've taken some aspirin or something with me.

The game edged on into the second quarter. I wasn't anywhere near cold anymore, but all the same I kept everything where it was. Sunset still hadn't recognized me yet, and I aimed to keep it that way for as long as I could.

I was a little bit surprised by the differences in how the game was handled on the high school level compared to NBA games. For one, they were much shorter: each quarter was only eight minutes in length. Looking back it makes sense, considering the energy and overall physical condition of people at that age. Still seemed a bit odd to me, though.

For another, I didn't see any sign of a shot clock. I looked up information on it later, and it turns out that there's only a handful of states in the country that require the use of one at the high school level, and ours wasn't one of them.

But they're not trying to deliberately stall in order to get a good shot, I told myself as a defensive foul was called against the Wondercolts. They're still treating the game as if there was an active clock. Though, how does this--

"Kick their tails, Shadowbolts!" the person seated in front of me abruptly yelled, startling me out of my contemplations. "Go for it!"

Several CHS students who were seated nearby turned to glare at him, but he ignored them all. Out the corner of my eye I noticed Sunset grumbling inaudibly at the disturbance.

Deciding on a little fun at his expense, I raised a hand to the back of the guy's head and held up two fingers in an approximation of bunny ears. One of the students who'd heard the guy yell chuckled a little before turning back towards the game; I jerked my hand back as the cat-caller looked around in confusion.

"Real mature, sir," Sunset murmured, snorting softly.

I traced 'oh, hush' in the air with my finger. She rolled her eyes, but didn't comment.

As I continued taking mental notes on the game and how they could apply to math, the Wondercolts struggled on the court. Despite their best efforts, they were losing 31-19 as the second quarter neared its end. Crystal Prep's offense was average at best, at least that I could tell, but their defense was top notch. At the very least it was enough to keep anyone not named Rainbow Dash from scoring more than five points in the half.

Yeah, I finally ascertained her name during the quarter, but that's not important right now.

I tended to be drawn to underdogs in sports, and the Wondercolts looked to be it in this situation. Any other fan would've cheered or shouted words of encouragement, but sadly I wasn't any other fan. I was Puma Claw, a wild cat that couldn't roar or yowl without putting his voice at risk. Any encouragement was right out the window.

Any vocal encouragement, that is.

Sunset almost jolted when she felt something nudge her arm. Fighting back the irritation caused by a growing headache and her overall disinterest with the game in general, she glanced to her left and saw that the heavy-set stranger was trying to get her attention. "What do you want?" she asked harshly.

The stranger gestured at her pen and notepad, pointed at himself, then traced a question mark in the air. "Whatever," she groused as she begrudgingly handed them both over. "Not like I was using them for anything important anyway."

Nodding in thanks, the man turned to the first blank page he could find and wrote 'CHS' in large, bold lettering, shading it to make it more visible...

As the buzzer sounded and the second quarter ended, the home squad was feeling dismal. The Shadowbolts were probably going to end up winning again, and it was hard for the Wondercolts to feel motivated in any way. Rainbow Dash, who was usually responsible for keeping her team in the game, was finding it difficult to do so given her sub-par play up to that point (well, sub-par by her standards, anyway). Everyone local was subdued, with only the visitors being in high spirits.

A series of soft, repeated thumps reached the edge of Rainbow's hearing before her team could leave for the locker room. ...Okay, that's getting annoying. Where's that sound coming from? she asked herself as she looked around, stopping short of the door.

"Hey, Dash," one of her teammates called for her. "What are you waiting for? Coach Strongheart wants to talk to us."

"Hold up a sec," Rainbow said sharply, one hand in a 'quiet' gesture. "Anyone else hear that?"

Thump. Thump. Thump.

"Up there!" one of the cheerleaders called out, pointing at the stands.

Rainbow followed her finger and saw that she was singling out one of those in attendance. Huh, she said to herself. That's the guy who let Sunset Shimmer get hit.

Disregarding that memory before it could get her laughing, Rainbow took in the source of the sound. The person was holding up a notepad, the page on it emblazoned with the school's letters. He was rhythmically striking each letter in succession with two of his fingers; it wasn't particularly loud, but in the general silence of the gym it still reached her clearly.

It took a few moments for Rainbow to understand what he was doing. He's cheering, she told herself. Weird way of doing it, but he's cheering.

Those nearest to him were noticing what he was doing. Aside from Sunset, who was looking on with a pained expression, the locals were starting to clap in time with the 'cheer'. Those farther away that couldn't tell what was happening were instead beginning to kick up a "CHS" chant that was growing in volume and force. This in turn was picked up by the cheerleader squad, who had regained the desire to do what they'd signed up for.

And as soon as the first notes of a disembodied song reached her ears, Rainbow knew what she had to do.

I slowed down and stopped as the chanting and clapping had gotten as loud as they were likely going to get. Everyone else could take it from here; my arms were getting tired, and--

...

...Am I hearing a guitar somewhere? I looked around curiously, but I didn't see any signs of a band or stereo. It didn't sound like it was coming from the PA speakers, either: it was clear as day, high-quality with no static or interference whatsoever.

Which meant only one thing.

This wasn't the first time I'd noticed a song springing up from out of nowhere. When I served an in-school suspension for tardiness back in sixth grade, I got to sing one myself about how nice it was to spend a day away from people who liked to cause me trouble (and I found it jarring that when singing, I sounded like someone else entirely). This was, however, the first time I'd noticed an entire crowd--or in this case, a chunk of one--joining in, and I wasn't sure what to make of it.

Even Sunset was joining in, though it was easy to tell that her heart wasn't really in it. She looked like she was having difficulty taking any of this seriously. Still, she didn't pay attention to me as I gave the notepad and pen back to her, feeling just this side of bemused.

Twelve points down
A crowd of frowns
What will cheer us up the most?
Shooters rake
In three-point makes
A fast break from coast to coast!

Teach them manners as their hosts!

CHS is on the express
We're stampeding across the court!
It doesn't matter what you try
We tell the truth, we cannot lie
Best notify your next of kin
It's the Wondercolts for the win!

Not to be outdone, the Crystal Prep faction--visiting fans, team and all--joined in the song with a comeback. It was a whirlwind of imagery and energy, blue and gold clashing with purple and violet. It's easy to think the whole thing was rehearsed, but that's just looking from an outsider's perspective. This was entirely on the spot, and the performances from both sides were positively seamless.

Hometown cheers
Attack our ears
What will take them down the most?
Major dents
In their defense
Reduce any hope to toast!

Teach them what it means to boast!

It's one big step for Crystal Prep
we're quicker than the speed of light!
As you stay grounded, up we fly
There is no limit but the sky!
Wake up and open up your eyes
The Shadowbolts will claim the prize!

Following some impressive guitar riffs with just a hint of techno, the dual factions alternated chants of 'CHS' and 'Crystal Prep' until the calls faded beneath the clapping that had started up again. A moment later, that faded beneath a drum beat which slowly shifted into silence...

And discounting certain people--namely myself and Sunset, the latter of whom was looking increasingly upset--the entire crowd roared their support for their teams.

"Hey, Dash?" the teammate that had called for her earlier spoke up. Rainbow could tell without turning that she was smiling. "Coach Strongheart says 'Never mind. Rest up and go get 'em, girls.'"

"That's all the motivation I need," Rainbow replied as she grabbed some water and sat down near the bleachers. One didn't need an imagination to see that a newfound fire was burning in her eyes: the 'stay-out-of-my-way-I'm-coming-through' type of determination seen in athletes just before they take the rest of the game by storm.

Get ready, Crystal Prep. We're not out of this yet!

The song had more of an effect than I expected on everyone. Both sides might have taken part, but new life had been breathed into the hometown Wondercolts. Over the course of the third quarter, they reduced the deficit from twelve to eight, to five, to three, and to one by the time the buzzer sounded. It was becoming a real fight for Crystal Prep to keep their lead, with CHS making them work for every shot they took and leaving no one open for long.

The team had become tons more aggressive on both sides of the court, taking CPH off guard. Rainbow Dash was leading the charge, as was expected, but that didn't mean the rest of the team wasn't contributing; several of them were leaping for rebounds and blocked shots often enough that I thought they were trying to fly.

By the time the third quarter ended, the score was 38-37 in the Shadowbolts' favor. Things were looking up.

When the horn sounded to end the quarter, Sunset finally gave up trying to think about how to get the extra credit and considered it lost.

Nothing had been going right for her so far this evening. In the time following her encounter with a rogue basketball, her headache was getting steadily worse. She wanted nothing more than to find some painkillers and get it dealt with, or at the very least get some ice on it, but between being hemmed in and the sheer volume of the song earlier, things were deteriorating quickly. She tried to focus on the game, but in the end she had a grade-A distraction that wouldn't stop running interference.

Sunset's nose wrinkled as something hit her nostrils, and she glared at nothing. The 'jerk' next to her had made no sign of getting out of his coat and hat up to this point, the heated gymnasium notwithstanding. Of course, that meant that he would eventually start sweating, which in turn meant the scent she was catching was fairly obvious.

Maybe it was the headache messing with her mind, but she was beginning to get the impression that the person knew who she was and wasn't eager to make himself known for that reason. That would mean that he was someone she already knew, which in turn meant that snatching his hat and goggles to see who he was didn't have the repercussions she'd initially feared.

As the 4th quarter began, Sunset let herself be convinced of that belief and nudged the person's arm. "Excuse me, but you're sure you're not feeling miserable bundled up like that? It's something like 72 degrees in here."

"Mrrrrmm, mrhm," the person grumbled, sounding irritable.

"I'm serious," Sunset insisted. "There shouldn't be any reason for you to have that heavy coat on when its this warm in here. What harm is there in taking it off for what, eight minutes?"

"Rrmhm mr rmr hmrmrhm." The stranger gestured first at himself, then at her.

Sunset had no clue what he was saying, as the scarf was muffling his speech, and she was quickly running out of patience. "What are you talking abo--- hey!"

The person snatched her notepad and pen away from her before she could react and scribbled two words on it before showing them to her. "'You first'? What..." Sunset muttered, belatedly remembering that she'd never removed her own coat. Sure, it was lighter than some of the others she'd seen in the crowd, and she didn't have as far to go walking to school as others she could name, but still. "Look, this isn't about me. I'm fine. I'm more concerned about you right now."

The stranger shook his head firmly, over-exaggerating it a little, then wrote some more. 'I'm trying to watch a game here, female dog, and you aren't helping.'

Female dog?... ...Oh. Right. That. "Do you have any idea just how uncalled for that was?" Sunset asked, eyes narrowing.

The person said nothing, handing her things back to her and pointedly turning his head back towards the court. Huffing in irritation, Sunset pocketed both items and followed his lead, glaring at him out the corners of her eyes. This isn't over. First thing after the game, you and I are going to have words, and not the 'spelling bee' kind.

Watching the game had been fun, but now I was starting to get more nervous than ever. It probably wouldn't be long before she figured out who had been next to her the entire time, and whatever it was she would do at that point filled me with dread.

I couldn't just get up and leave, though. Those around us were still hemming us in, and while I could still get up and leave, I couldn't really do so without making a scene.

"Hey, watch it!"

Sunset would immediately take notice and would follow after me, and it didn't take a mathematician to figure out how long I'd be able to keep away from her.

"Watch your step there, seriously!"

I'd gladly take an escape route if it were offered me, but the chances of one spontaneously appearing out of thin air were next to no---

"Hey, Shimmercakes! Scoot over, will ya? I'd like to talk to you!"

My eyes widened enough that for a split second they could be seen around my goggles, and the both of us whipped our heads to the right. Dallas Austin was making his way down the row towards us, much to the irritation of those seated there and along the section perimeter.

No, no, no! Why now of all times? Why now?

Sunset's relationship with Dallas was hardly nice, even discounting his friendly-yet-aggressive attitude. She'd never forgiven him for throwing that book at her without provocation, and she was certain that if it weren't for the constant presence of eyewitnesses, they would've ended up trading punches. Granted she was always tempted to do so anyway, but she still had her reputation to think about.

"---look, I've been doing a lot of thinking," Dallas was saying, temporarily getting her attention. He squeezed himself into the seat between her and the person on her right, making her shift uncomfortably for a second at his proximity. "Maybe I've been going about this the wrong way, but I---"

A shuffling noise and a muffled 'thud' yanked her attention away, and she turned towards where her game-long companion had been seated...

...just in time to see the top of his hat drop over the edge of the bleachers. "Oh, no you're not!" she snarled, her headache and general disgust finally pushing her patience past its limit. Bolting to her feet and ignoring the protests of those she had to squeeze past, Sunset jumped down to where she saw him vanish to. She didn't see him, but that didn't stop her; there was only one place where she figured he wanted to go, so she made her way past those on the floor towards the exit.

Flummoxed, Dallas could do nothing but blink at Sunset's abrupt exit. "...Huh," he finally said. "If she didn't want to accept my apology, she could've just said so." He shrugged and smiled. "Oh, well. Free seats!"

Settling into the open space, he leaned back to watch the rest of the game. There were only a few minutes left, and with Crystal Prep finally getting their feet back under them after the Wondercolts' surge, victory could go either way.

A few seconds after I saw Sunset jump down and maneuver towards where I came in, I picked my way underneath the bleachers towards one of the gym's other exits. I hated having to hit the floor from that height, but I didn't see myself having any other choice: I was not going to linger around there any more than I needed to. Sitting next to Sunset for the entire game was bad enough, and there wasn't enough 'nope' in the world to express my desire to make myself scarce as soon as Dallas got himself involved. I might not have had any choice during school hours, but any chance to escape his notice outside of them was fair play.

Plus, I had to get out of my heavy winter gear. I let myself get stuck with it because I didn't want Sunset knowing who I was, but now that she'd probably figured things out, I needed to cool off for a bit. As soon as I was safely in an adjoining hallway and out of sight from the crowd at large, I took the opportunity to do just that.

Seriously, people: a winter wrap-up more than an hour long. I was at my limit, temperature-wise.

Quickly I went over my options before shaking my head. There was no choice: I had to call home and arrange for a pickup. The game wasn't over yet, but I didn't want to go back in there and risk being spotted by Sunset or Dallas. I believed I had everything I needed to write my essay, and if I wanted to know what the final score was, I could always ask one of my lunchmates or check the next edition of the Express. Maybe even the city paper, the more I thought about it.

I jumped when a fairly loud 'bang' startled me, and I turned to see what had caused it. Some girl I didn't know had apparently just gotten done trying (unsuccessfully) to punch one of the lockers. "Too noisy," I muttered to myself.

The girl turned to glare at me, but the tears at the corners of her eyes negated some of their force. "Someone stole my coat and phone," she protested. "I have every right to be noisy." She pointed in the general direction of the exit and the weather I knew was beyond it. "I have to walk home in that, and I can't even call home for a lift! Why they got rid of the payphones here is beyond me!"

I was a bit taken back, and my first impulse was to utter something along the lines of "Wow, tough break" and walk away, which I obeyed. My second impulse, which I also obeyed, was to retrieve my phone and toss my winter gear over my shoulder. "May as well take these, then. It's cold as Michigan out there."

I didn't see the girl's expression, but she sounded both appreciative and confused. "...Um... thanks?"

"You're welcome," I mumbled, already trying to go over in my mind just what I was going to say to my Mom and hoping she wouldn't be too upset at me.

The game was spontaneously winding down and heating up, but Sunset didn't care. The cheering crowd and even her headache were delegated to positions of minimal importance. What she did care about was trying to find that stranger and getting that particular mystery dealt with.

The problem was that whoever it was had pulled a complete vanishing act. There was neither hide, hair, nor hat of him anywhere; there was no evidence of the door she'd been heading for ever being opened. After scouting the floor and the seats, she even circled the gym and checked under the bleachers themselves, but ended her search with nothing to show for it beyond a discarded coat that was nowhere close to the stranger's in size.

Okay, this is beyond crazy. People of that size are not this stealthy...

...

...! Sunset's mind flashed back several months to when she'd thought similarly about a certain soda pop-guzzling student, and all the puzzle pieces finally combined. "I'm not the only one who's going to need an aspirin tonight," she snarled to herself, turning towards the door she was standing in front of and starting to open it...

...only for the door to open of its own volition, disgorging the very person she was trying to find. Sunset had just enough time to hiss softly in surprise before they collided, knocking them both to the ground with stifled cries.

"Hello, Mom?" I said into my phone as I stood near the exit. "The game's just about over, and I'm going to need picked up."

"Alright, I'll be there shortly."

I winced at what I was about to say. "Also, I'm going to need some new winter gear. Everything except for boots."

Mom's disbelief was audible. "...Why? What happened to what we gave you?"

Alright, I've had it with tonight. Enough is enough! Lashing out and catching him by surprise, Sunset yanked the hat away and pulled the goggles up onto his forehead...

...But the eyes that looked back at her weren't Puma's. Instead, an unfamiliar green-skinned face stared back at her, midway between fearful and surprised. Sunset's eyes shot open. What the...?!

The girl's fear gave way to confusion, and she lowered her scarf so she could speak clearly. "What?"

Sunset didn't answer. Dropping the hat, she jumped to her feet and took a few steps off to the side to let the girl pass. Mad as she was, her current gripe was with Puma, not her. Okay, I know that was him sitting next to me the whole time. He wouldn't have just given up his gear in light of that snowstorm out there. Where in blazes did he go?

"...IIIII might have given it to someone who needed it a lot more than I did. Her coat was stolen, she looked like she was cold, and, well..."

It took a few moments before Mom could bring herself to answer. "We'll talk more about that later. I'm on my way."

Across the gym, an exasperated "Oh, come on!" rang out, followed closely by the final buzzer and the cheers of the visiting Crystal Prep faction. Sunset turned right before she could leave and saw that the basketball had somehow gotten stuck between the rim and the backboard, leaving Rainbow Dash a frustrated mess. The rest of CHS's team and most of the crowd was reduced to sulking, another potential victory against CPH snatched away from them. The Shadowbolts themselves were either celebrating or breathing relieved sighs.

Huh. Didn't even think that trick was possible.

Visitors - 51
Home - 50

Mentally logging that little factoid away, Sunset hustled off into the halls to catch up to Puma...

...only to become aware of a much more urgent need. A heartfelt "Son of a witch" escaped her as she made a beeline for the restroom instead, silently regretting the mug of hot chocolate she'd had prior to leaving for the game.

...

And so it was that a few minutes later, Sunset charged into the foyer towards the exit... just in time to look outside and see a coatless Puma evade both her and the snowstorm by jumping inside a red minivan. She slowed to a stop in the middle of the room, hands tightening as she recalled everything that transpired that evening.

Elsewhere in town, a tea kettle whistled.

Back at their respective locker rooms as they prepared to head back to their individual homes (or dorms, case depending), athletes from both schools froze up momentarily in a way that had nothing to do with the weather. Echoing back to them was the scream of an angry girl who, without context, seemed to be cursing out a cat.

A CPH student who was just about to leave the gymnasium flinched as he heard the distant tirade. He turned to someone who appeared to be part of the hometown crowd and addressed her, asking: "Just so I'm clear, this school isn't haunted, right?"

Applejack sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose, recognizing who was screaming but not why. "Depends on yer point of view," she answered as she walked away.

Later that night, as she recuperated and gradually got her thinking processes back in order, Sunset silently vowed that she would never attend another sports event as long as she lived on this side of the mirror.

...Well, maybe not unless it involves motorcycles.

Ultimately, it turned out we didn't need to go to the store for some new gear after all. The next day when my Dad went outside to shovel the driveway, he discovered everything piled on a chair out front. There was a note clipped to my coat that read: "Thank you for letting me borrow this. I found my coat shoved beneath the bleachers before I left yesterday, so it turns out I didn't need them after all. I'm sorry for any trouble I caused you. -- W. B."

(It wouldn't be until much later that I discovered that whoever that student was, her parents were acquainted with mine, hence how she knew where to bring the coat. Small world.)

And in case anyone's wondering, here's a copy of my essay. I know it's not the greatest, but my teacher liked it enough to give me the extra credit for it:

...

Puma Claw
12-06-2013
Room #201
1st Hour - Algebra

From one end of the court to the other, basketball is saturated in mathematics. It's more than just throwing the ball at the backboard and hoping the shot goes through. It combines athleticism with quick thinking: will the shot count, or will it bounce off the rim into the hands of the opposing team? If someone on the other team has the ball and she's driving towards the basket, which way will she go, and will the defender be able to take the appropriate actions needed in order to steal the ball? Can you process information fast enough to make a difference in gameplay?

In-between starting a crowd song and taunting the Shadowbolts and their fans behind their backs, I got to thinking about this. During the third quarter, CHS's team captain attempted a 3-point shot. Almost as soon as it left her hands, she called for one of her teammates, who got herself into position in time to get the rebound. The shot in question looked as if it was going to go in, but ultimately rolled out. If she was just chucking the ball with a hope and a prayer, the captain shouldn't have been able to figure out that it would miss so quickly. Doing so requires a decent understanding of mathematics, or at least being able to put your brain to work on the fly.

This demonstrates that athletes--at least those on the high school level--aren't supposed to be dunces. The fact that a 3.0 GPA is required for CHS students to try out for sports at all, combined with all the hours of practice that they put in, means that they get to put their math skills to the test in mid-game--and they probably don't even realize it. It takes more than just physical skills to block a shot hard enough to send a ball ricocheting off a queen bee's forehead; it also takes an excellent understanding of just where the ball will go and how it will reach that point.

As an aside, I don't envy the Shadowbolt who did that, but better her than me.

Author's Note

Differences

I never attended school games at all. I was always more interested in pro sports (as in the Detroit Tigers, Pistons and Red Wings) than anything college level or below, and I preferred computer games and solitude any day of the week. And to the best of my knowledge, my school never offered extra credit in that fashion, either.

Also, I think my school may have charged for admission, but it's been 17 years since I graduated, so I don't clearly recall.

A more minor one: back when I was in middle and high school, my family owned a Plymouth Voyager. Since it was no longer being produced after 2000, I changed it to a Dodge Grand Caravan for the purposes of the story.

Other

On the topic of 'mumbling ought to be its own language', I thought about throwing in a scene depicting Dilbert's Pointy Haired Boss before deciding that no one was likely to get the joke.

For those curious, the Shadowbolt who rejected the ball off Sunset's face is supposed to be Lemon Zest.

The crowd song isn't based on anything in particular, and any resemblance to music already in existence is entirely coincidental; I wasn't looking to write a rehash of ACADECA. If you can imagine something that's upbeat, peppy, and screams "We're gonna win and you know it", you're well on your way to figuring out what the song's supposed to sound like.

Given who her counterpart is, I have a mental image in my mind for Coach Strongheart: Native American descent, mid-20s, smaller than most of the team she coaches, an all-around nice lady, and just plain never learned how to quit. :D

Personally, I'm inclined to believe that the CHS gymnasium's depiction in official materials is a bit off (if only because I recall my old high school's gym being arranged differently). For some reason, the screenshots of the gym at the FiM Wiki didn't show backboards in the places where they would make the most sense, even considering that they would normally be up near the ceiling during non-athletic activities. In the places they were located in, it didn't really look like a full-size court as a result. (You also have to consider that as of this writing I have not seen the first two movies in their entirety, and that I haven't seen Friendship Games since 2015, so my perspective might be a bit skewed.)