In the tiny town of Ponyville, a loud morning takes place in the schoolhouse. Or for one school-teacher, louder than usual. Volume itself is relative especially when dealing with a single room full of the most energetic foals on this side of Equestria. Foals who want nothing more than to run around someplace or be anywhere that isn’t… school. This much Cheerilee considers as she scans the class of foals before her.
“Please turn to page 228 in your textbooks. Today, we’re learning about climates.”
From the moment she makes that announcement, it triggers the very same reaction as normally: Smiles from the few foals who care, a wake-up call for the ones asleep, groans from the rest, and no reaction from that one strange colt sitting in the corner. Most of the foals simply call him the ‘sketchy kid’, a choice of a nickname Cheerilee truly isn’t fond of. Simply put, she finds it a behavior she refuses to tolerate… even though it is such an accurate assessment of a foal she herself hardly knows. Needless to say, it’s no secret her class has its share of ‘interesting’ students.
“Now, does any pony know anything about climates?” Cheerilee asked.
Only a single pony raises their hoof, the one at the very last row behind the class. A silent sigh escapes Cheerilee’s lips knowing it is the very same pony who always raises their hoof. Part of her knows she should try to call on one of the other students, given the ‘No Foal Left Behind’ act and all. But she also knows it wouldn’t do any good, as it does not imply it makes these foals care.
“Yes, Alula?” Cheerilee acknowledged.
“We live on the northern end of a Humid Subtropic Zone,” Alula answered. “We get 121 inches of rain on average, and the average temperature in Ponyville is 17 degrees, or 62 if you prefer to use the Griffon scale.”
Cheerilee raises a single eyebrow; clearly, she did not know half of that.
“Well… yes, that’s true. But I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Does any pony have anything else to contribute?”
But no words came, only blank stares from every student across the room.
“Did ‘any’ pony do the reading I assigned?”
“You didn’t assign anything last class,” A voice replied from the back row. “Our homework was to ask our parents about Equestrian history.”
“That’s odd… I thought I assigned a one-thousand-word essay on ‘why’ Ponyville has no snow on Hearts and Hooves Day.”
Cheerilee turns back toward the back of the class, to identify the source of the voice. To her surprise, of all the students in class, it’s Snails of all ponies.
“So… Snails… I assume you asked your parents about Equestrian history?”
“Uh… maybe?”
A round of stifled laughter echoes throughout the classroom.
“Maybe? You either did or you didn’t.”
Now should Cheerilee say she didn’t enjoy this sort of thing, even just a tad, that is a lie on top of a lie. Cheerilee finds that in her position, where she backs one of her students into a corner even just once in a while, is the best way to ensure ‘every’ pony did their work. And so long as no feelings are ever hurt, it’s all harmless. Snails, meanwhile, desperately turns side-to-side trying to find some means of a logical excuse. Cheerilee will give Snails a bit of credit; what he lacks in intelligence, he makes up for it through sheer persistence.
In his final act of desperation, Snails turns toward the desk to his left—more specifically the pony sitting in it—and spots his loophole.
“You know… I bet Apple Bloom has something to say to the class. Granny Smith’s really old and all, so I’m sure she was around for most of the stuff you’re teaching us.”
“Hey! Granny ain’t that old!” Apple Bloom objected, glaring at Snails. “Why should I go up there? Least I actually did my work.”
“Well if you did, why not share it with the rest of us?”
Apple Bloom whirls her head around, her exasperation plain as the muzzle upon her face.
“Cheerilee, I didn’t do nothin’ wrong!” Apple Bloom spoke up. “Snails ain’t even—”
“I know you didn’t Apple Bloom,” Cheerilee interrupted, calmly. “But some pony’s got to present; besides, I can’t think of any pony better than you.”
For a brief moment, Cheerilee can almost see the smoke rising from the filly’s ears… or perhaps it’s the extra herbs in her tea giving her hallucinations. Either way, Apple Bloom stomps toward the front of the class in a huff. Along the way, she gives Snails a good kick in the leg… but Cheerilee says nothing in that regard. Before long, there Apple Bloom stands, the red-haired Earth filly in front of the entire classroom. And should fate be in Cheerilee’s favor, Apple Bloom’s presentation should go on without further incident.
“My granny has not been around for some of Equestria’s biggest moments in history,” Apple Bloom began. “The Intertribal wars, the Equestrian migration, or anythin’ like that. But… she did grow up during that one time with the griffons… Miss Cheerilee, what was that called again?”
A sigh escapes Cheerilee’s lips. If one of her brightest students in class did not know the name of that event, any chance of getting her license renewed by next fall is slipping away inch by inch.
“The Cold War, Apple Bloom.”
“Oh right… anyway, granny told me growin’ up during that time was tough. The constant fear of war… supplies runnin’ low due to lack of tradin’. I think that’s called an ‘In-Bag-O’ or somethin’ like that…”
Though there’s more to Apple Bloom’s presentation, Cheerilee completely tuned it all out. Honestly, it’s not even the most memorable presentation in all of Cheerilee’s years of teaching. Not that she didn’t care for her students, but Apple Bloom… that little filly has a particular talent of running her mouth.
“Maybe she’d have more success finding her cutie mark as a politician or a philosopher,” Cheerilee thought, grinning.
“And that’s what I learned about Equestrian history,” Apple Bloom concluded. “What do you think, Cheerilee?”
At the mention of her name, Cheerilee finds herself thrust from her daydreaming fantasy. In a matter of seconds, she finds herself back in the world of the living… conscious. As a reminder, she did not hear half of what Apple Bloom said, but fortunately she has her usual response.
“Good job Apple Bloom,” Cheerilee smiled. “Very informative presentation. You may sit back down now.”
A wave of relief washes over Apple Bloom’s face as she makes her way back to her desk. Any pony paying attention to her may compare her to that of grown mare just released from jail. All the fuss over such a simple classroom assignment of all things. But, as Cheerilee reminds herself, Apple Bloom is a good student, if not an enthusiastic one. In life, some ponies simply must take what they can get.
As Cheerilee moves along with the lesson plan, the Earth pony can’t help but notice the unusual amount of activity between Apple Bloom and Snails. Cheerilee can always tell when two ponies play innocent when most ponies look away. But being the ever observant schoolteacher, it’s not hard for Cheerilee to notice the kicks and shoves in her peripheral. And this series of motions goes on for well over an hour, just as the bell rings for one, the start of lunch, and two, recess.
“Lunch and recess!” Cheerilee declared.
<>
As the foals romp and play about along the playground, breathing in the scent of the fields surrounding the school, Cheerilee kicks back on her chair with a sigh. Her head turns toward the window where the flagpole positioned at the front of the building is caught within her gaze. Cheerilee recalls that flagpole very well.
Back when she first started as a schoolteacher, she’d use the recess time grading papers and cleaning all the messes the foals made. Even now, it’s merely cleaning up a mess representing a full day. Yet nowadays, Cheerilee finds there’s nothing much to worry about. Over the course of time, teaching hasn’t been about presentation or how things are organized, it is about giving the youth of tomorrow all the skills necessary to lead productive lives… or close enough.
Of course, it doesn’t hurt Cheerilee to receive a hefty paycheck every two weeks. But no pony needs to hear about that part.
Still, as Cheerilee looks across the schoolyard, it’s the same scenario almost every day. A few foals running, some just sitting with the heads looking at the clouds, and at least one or two were jump-roping together with their friends. The same ponies playing the same games… every… single… day. Yet it’s interesting just how consistent their social interaction is, let alone Cheerilee can just tell if any of the foals are having problems. Especially the kind of issues they’d never tell her about… least not in public.
And just as everything appears normal, her attention turns toward the Cutie Mark Crusaders. Naturally, they always wander off looking for some crazy means of getting their cutie mark. Except today, Apple Bloom is not among the group. There’s Scootaloo the Pegasus and Sweetie Belle the Unicorn but subtract Apple Bloom and the most notable trio in class is just… a duet act. And for some strange reason, Snips sits alone by some maple trees and seemingly unbothered by the fact his one best friend in class is absent.
Not that it bothers Cheerilee to some degree, but that does not mean she’s not curious. As she turns her head, for another sweep across the yard, her eyes do not catch many details. That is until she notices the rustle of bushes along the west side of the field. Every few seconds, the leaves shake and by no means is there a trick of the light. Cheerilee ponders over whether to investigate the matter at hand, the schoolteacher decides otherwise.
“If they don’t come in after recess, then I’ll look.”
Cheerilee settles back into her chair, smiling contently. For the next half hour or so, her gaze shifts between the students and the dirt below her hooves. Both of which offer some majorly similar entertainment value. It’s not until recess comes to an end that the real show begins.
Emerging from the bushes, Apple Bloom and Snails reveal themselves, confirming Cheerilee’s suspicions the moment they step out of the shrubs. As the pair walks toward the schoolhouse, Cheerilee can see the awkward smiles all the way from her perch. Of course, the two are the last to enter the building and clearly they are bedraggled.
After getting situated, the class calming themselves, Cheerilee’s lesson continues. And as often as it happens, she allows herself to go into a form of autopilot. Thanks to the experience through the saddlebags in her eyes, all she needs to do is follow the lesson plan. Every chance she gets, she shifts her gaze toward the two lovebirds sitting in the back.
“What prompted this sudden change from kicking each other’s hooves?” Cheerilee thought to herself. “Now these two are holding hooves with each other… there’s just no way to know anything these days.”
Much time passes, as Cheerilee entertains the class with a few casual questions. Never as much as she’d like, but more than enough to help the students lose track of time. By the time it all ends, as her eyes gaze up toward that clock, only five minutes of an entire day remains.
“Alright, class, seems I’ve run out of things to do with you,” Cheerilee shrugged. “And don’t forget, I still want those essays turned in by the end of the week… and NOT using the same sentence a thousand times over!”
Whether or not the students did hear Cheerilee, most of them already packed their things a while ago and left the classroom, compared to the other students in a not-so-much hurry to scramble out. By the end of those five minutes, the entire classroom leaving the schoolteacher the solitude to just kick back and relax… until she hears the commotion at the front steps.
Sighing, Cheerilee slides away from her desk and approaches the door. On any given day, Cheerilee is expected to break up the next fight that involves either a stolen lunchbox or a slight invasion of personal space. But as she gazes through the glass on the door before her eyes are Apple Bloom and Snails. The two fillies entangle themselves in a battle of kicked dust and ear-splitting tantrums. As the fillies remain embroiled in their childish ways, Cheerilee turns her head toward the clock.
“Three hours,” She remarked. “Now that’s a school record.”
Her chuckling fills the now empty room—she just can’t help herself. It’s just so funny how mindless romance, even from a foal’s perspective, can be. The sun rises over a blossoming romance and next thing any pony knows is that two lovebirds suddenly set upon each other with fiery hate… only to rise from the ashes to great make-up… dramatic sure, but a great one. Cheerilee recalls being just like every other young filly at that age, but the need for constant affirmation of her desirability made her grow up quickly. And now she stand sold enough to know who she is as a mare and what needs to be done.
And speaking of which, Cheerilee sits back at her desk, content in her emotional maturity. She just sits there for a while, neither thinking about nor doing anything special in particular. A half hour or so passes when Cheerilee turns her head toward the close. The hands position themselves to indicate 3:45… or so. It is in that particular moment that Cheerilee realizes the significance of the time… and her eyes widen in utter shock.
“I ALMOST FORGOT MY DATE!!!” She shouted.
Hurriedly, Cheerilee packs up any of her belongings into her own personal saddlebag. She makes a bult out the door, letting it slam behind her… only to come back and lock the doors because… policy. Then she runs down the path straight into Ponyville, hoping to Celestia that the sun won’t set with her in bed… alone. Such is the life of Cheerilee the schoolteacher.
