The thing is, sometimes in life there are things you have to do that are hard. Like, way hard. Harder than they should be. Harder than bucking storm clouds someone overfilled with lightning seeds. Harder than pulling off a sonic rainboom in front of a cloud of ponies who don’t believe you can do it. Harder than … other hard things. That are hard to do. Yeah.
Shut up.
So picture the scene, right? The totally most awesome – awesomest? Is it awesomest or most awesome? Twilight would probably know. Wait, I’m getting off track! Stop that. Stay on topic! Picture the scene: the awesomest, most awesome flier in all Equestria, speeding through the skyways on the most taxing mission of her whole freaking life. And I don’t mean taxing like as in taxes, on account of all weather ponies have access to a civil accountant to help us with crap like that; I mean taxing as in tough, difficult, demanding and other words like that! She speeds over the hilltops, over the housetops and over the treetops, eagle-eyes scanning the ground for her target.
Suddenly, with effortless grace, she tilts into a perfect barrel roll and zooms down to the ground. Her target looks up, eyes all huge with awe and wonder and admiration and being impressed at just how awesome the pegasus is. As she executes a perfect landing on a branch, the target falls to her knees and begs her to take her right there in the middle of the orchard, begging for just one taste of her awesome lips!
Well … maybe that last part didn’t happen. At least, not like that. She fell to her knees all right, but it was mostly because she was afraid of getting squished by a falling tree branch. See, that perfect landing? Wasn’t so perfect. It was only half perfect. Or … maybe a little less than half.
Okay, okay, I crashed. Is that what you wanted to hear? Sweet Celestia, you try to set a mood for a story and ponies just can’t let you have a little poetic licence…
So yeah, if you hadn’t already figured it out, the awesomest flier in Equestria is me. And after that landing, I had awesomely got my head stuck in the hole in the side of a really un-awesome tree. It wasn’t exactly the impression I was going for when I set out that evening after work. I was aiming for romantic adventurer who could make mares weak at the knees. Instead I was coming off more like some idiot beginner who couldn’t even fly in a straight line.
I could hear Applejack asking me if I was okay, and I yelled back that I was, I was just tired from working hard all day and had lost my bearings. I think she bought it, but I was so embarrassed I was ready to explode. Next thing I know the base of my tail hurts like Tartarus, there’s this loud popping noise, and I’m on the ground in some weird yoga position. Applejack’s laughter was clear even with my tail in her mouth. I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to kiss her or buck her into next week.
And there’s the freaking root of the problem.
I glared up at her and asked what was so funny. In that freakishly honest way of hers, she told me that I was, of course. Then she spit out my tail and went right back to bucking apples like me flying headfirst into trees in her orchard wasn’t any big thing. Which, I guess, is kind of true, but she still could have asked if I was okay first! I yelled after her that she clearly didn’t care about me if she was just going to leave me on the ground like that. She stopped and gave me this weird look, like those times I’ve said something ‘inappropriate’ and don’t really get it until Twilight or Fluttershy or somepony pulls me to one side and explains it. I thought maybe Applejack was going to do that now, but she shook her head and carried on with what she’d been doing before I got there.
I reconsidered my plan of attack. Clearly, bringing her to her knees with passion over my awesomeness was a no-go, but I’d be damned if I went home this time like I did every other time I tried to tell her how I feel. I got to my feet, shot up into the air and flew at the stupid apple tree she was bucking so hard that all the apples fell off. I figured she’d be happy. I figured I’d proven how useful even a pegasus like me could be on a farm of earth ponies. I may even have said something about it as I touched down.
Remember when I said some things are way harder than they should be?
She yelled at me. Actually yelled at me! I, of course, yelled right the hell back at her. I was helping! She was bucking apples and I’d bucked them for her! She started yakking on about hard work and tradition and not taking the easy route and I kind of tuned out halfway through because her mouth looked so pretty and her eyes sparkle when she’s angry. When she stomped her hoof I startled so much I nearly fell off my feet on the freaking ground! She told me that if I wanted to help, I could help her best by just ‘going the hell away’.
Well how’s that for gratitude? To spite her, I grabbed the biggest, juiciest apple from the basket next to her and took a big bite of it. Her face just about burst into flames. I flew away while she was still yelling about me stealing Apple Family produce and being a no-good thief who deserved to have my wings ripped off and stuffed up my jaxie.
Hmm … I wonder what a jaxie is?
The apple was big and red and delicious, but when I landed on a cloud and took another bite, it tasted bitter and horrible. I tried, I really did. I’d skipped lunch - totally not because I was nervous because I’m too cool for nerves – so I should have been hungry, but that apple tasted just awful past the first bite. I threw it as hard as I could, getting a perfect shot into the Sweet Apple Acres compost heap.
See? I can do everything right when Applejack isn’t around. Something about her just … well, it brings out the klutz in me.
I settled down for a good grump. Ponies think all I do is nap on clouds, but that’s where I do my best thinking. I reckon it’s something to do with the air up there. It lets me think clearer.
I can’t put a hoof on when my feelings for AJ changed. She’s ornery as a mad bull and annoying as a lightning bolt to the butt, but teasing her was so much fun when I first moved to Ponyville. I didn’t have that much to do with Sweet Apple acres outside of buying cider and supervising Fluttershy’s trips out there to make sure she got paid for sorting out animal problems. Damn filly would do everything as an unpaid favour and starve herself to a homeless, bankrupt death if I hadn’t been there. Too nice for her own good, that’s her problem. To be honest, Fluttershy was the only pony I even counted as a friend until Twilight moved to town. Then suddenly I had five best pony friends, one dragon friend, and regular tea with the freaking princess. I mean, how cool is that? And it turns out, non-pegasi could be pretty cool too. Even Rarity and her frippy-dippy dresses and make-up weren’t a total washout.
And then there was Applejack. It was so much fun competing with her over stuff. She may not have wings, but she has the heart of a Wonderbolt. She always gave me a run for my money - pun intended. That Running of the Leaves was the most fun I’d ever had in my life! It reminded me how much I love a good competition, and relit that fire inside me to not only want to be a Wonderbolt, but to pull my hoof out of my ass and actually do something about it. Applejack wouldn’t just sit on her ass and talk about stuff. She’d put on her hat, scrape her hooves on the ground and run full pelt at a problem until it has the good sense to get the hell out of her way.
Maybe that was when things changed. Or maybe it came later. All I know is that one day I’d picked an awesome tree for a nap after a really hard shift at work, but spent a whole hour watching her get all sweaty from bucking trees instead. When I caught myself staring at her flank and licking my lips, I knew I was in deep trouble – too deep to get out.
To tell you the truth … I didn’t really want to get out, either.
But the thing is, AJ? Not into mares. Not into stallions much either, from what I’ve seen. She’s, like, the least romantic pony on the freaking planet. Just look at what happened with Trenderhoof! So how do you tell a mare like her that you … well, like her?
Well … in my case … you don’t.
Or at least, you don’t until her old-friend-who-got-real-famous-then-figured-out-her-manager-was-a-douchebag comes to town and you catch her staring at that sweaty flank the same way you do. Coloratura is fun and spunky and talented and beautiful and she and AJ get on like a house on fire. Basically, she’s my worst nightmare come to life. And she’s coming for a visit next week.
Nineteen. That’s how many times I’ve tried to tell AJ how I feel about her. But not matter how many times I try, it never goes right! Never ever! Not even a little! Either I mess up, or something out of my control goes wrong, or we get interrupted by one of her family, or she’s just plain not listening! Not to mention the time Pinkie Pie appeared out of freaking nowhere and blasted us with party cannon streamers so she could invite us to a Welcome Back Rara party. My ears didn’t stop ringing all day after that one.
I was so hoping today would be the day. I psyched myself up for it all through my six-hour cloud-clearing shift and two hours of follow-up paperwork. But instead, here I am, lying on a cloud, going over how it went wrong. Again. Wishing things would go my way for once. Again. Thinking maybe the fastest, easiest thing to do would be just to fly at her, lips-first, at Mach Three and let her work the rest out after we’re done playing tonsil hockey. Again.
Hey, ow! What the? How did my apple get back up here?
Wait, this isn’t my apple. It has no bites in it. So where did this …?
Big Mac? Wow, he sure has some throwing hoof. What the heck does he want? I peer over the cloud and eventually obey his gesturing to come back down to earth. Big Mac and I don’t talk. Well, he barely talks anyhow, but even when he does say his few words, they’re never to me.
He surprises me now by letting loose a whole bunch of them. I stare, jaw practically hitting the floor, as he blurts out (as much as a pony who talks at the speed of sludge can ‘blurt’ anything) how he knows what I’ve been up to and before I say anything, I need to hear a few things. Of course, I can’t help interrupting him to ask what the hell he thinks I’ve been up to. No point in dropping myself in cow poop if I don’t need to, y’know? He gives me a look so similar to his sister’s that it’s spooky and tells me he’s not an idiot, no matter what everypony thinks. For a second I get this weird knot in my stomach, which I think might be guilt or gas – I’m not sure which. The feeling fades as he talks, and I don’t fart, which means it was probably guilt.
You see, apparently AJ knew what I was up to from the start. She’s one smart cookie, that earth pony. She may not have finished school, but there’s nopony in Ponyville sharper than she is, and she knew I liked her from the very first time I stood on her porch and asked her if she’d like to see a movie together (something that turned into me, her, plus all our friends being teleported to Manehattan by Twilight because getting a princess to visit your cinema on opening night really hikes up ticket sales so we all got freebies from the manager).
Even more shocking? When Big Mac told me she felt the same way.
So why didn’t she say anything? Why didn’t she put me out of my misery and let me know I didn’t have to keep making a fool of myself?
Remember when I said she never finished school? Well, there was a reason for that. It’s the same reason Granny Smith comes to (and falls asleep in) PTA meetings and why Apple Bloom always brings her siblings her report card instead of her mom and dad. Big Mac tells me how Applejack grew up sudden and grew up fast. In the space of a few months, she hardened herself from the fun-loving filly who went to camp and played guitar for fun to the workaholic farmer the rest of us have always known her as. Applejack knows hard work and she knows loss better than anypony – and it worried Big Mac a lot back when they were growing up and one bad harvest could have finished the farm for good. He tells me how it still worries him now; how that quarrel over her trying to buck every tree in Sweet apple Acres without help while he was injured was this big symptom of her whole mind-set. It’s how she views the world. She’s always been too afraid to ask for help, too afraid to make connections with anyone she isn’t blood-related to. Blood means she has this allegiance she can’t get away from, but before Twilight came to town AJ refused to get close to anypony because getting close means caring, and caring means that if you lose that pony, the loss will hurt all the more.
I stare at Big Mac. This is more than I’ve ever heard him say before. Like, ever. When he’s finally done, he stares hard at me, like I’m supposed to say something. I mutter about why he’s telling me all this now. If anything, his stare gets worse. Can a stare be loud? Because his stare feels deafening.
Apparently AJ making friends was all his dreams come true. He watched his little sister become something like the pony she used to be, opening up to ponies who weren’t family, risking her neck for them, putting herself out there in the world again. The first time she asked for him to cover for her so she could go off with us on an adventure, he damn near drop-kicked her out the door with a pair of full saddlebags. She’s come so far in the last year that he actually chokes up as he speaks. Seriously! There are tears in his eyes and everything! I don’t know where to look as he sniffs and wipes his nose.
And me? Where do I fit into this story of his?
It seems he thinks I could be the thing that makes Applejack truly happy.
At least, if she’ll let herself be.
See, Applejack’s opened up to friendship and caring, but love? That kind of emotion isn’t quite there yet. And Big Mac thinks I’m just the pony to get her there because she likes me back, even if she can’t admit it even to herself. Plus I’m too stubborn to quit and, in his words, ‘clearly adore her’.
Adore? Steady on there, big guy. I think she’s hot. And sexy. And awesome. And cool. And pretty. And I admire her a whole bunch. And kind of wish I could be more like her. And she’s fun to hang out with. And if I could kiss her just once and find out what her lips taste like, I could die happy. And …
Okay, so maybe I do adore her. But just a little. A very little!
And as I watch him walk away, I look up into the sky. Sunset won’t be for another few hours yet. I smile to myself, open my wings and overtake him back to the orchard.
I’ve still got time for Attempt Number Twenty.
