I loved snow. Ever since I was a filly.
I would spend my days off school starting snowball fights or building snow-ponies. Back then, I didn’t have a care in the world. But things change. Life happens. For one, I don’t get off school for snow anymore. But more importantly, I’m not the same pony I used to be.
Heck, I’m not even a pony anymore.
My name is Sunset Shimmer, and I . . . Well, I really need to finish decorating my Christmas tree.
I shut the blinds with a disappointed sigh. According to the clock on the wall, I’d been staring out at the snow for nearly half an hour now. Truthfully, I probably could have spent the rest of that hour staring and still not have grown bored.
But, with my view of the outside blocked, I slipped free from winter’s enchanting spell and turned my attention back to the beat-up cardboard box taking up a large chunk of my living room space. I was reaching for my first ornament – a glass pony that I’d found out shopping – when the doorbell rang.
I wasn’t expecting visitors today. Was I?
As I made my way to the front door, I racked my brain, building a list of anyone who might visit me out of the blue. I got my answer soon enough as I peered out the window at a young, purple-haired girl standing on my porch. She definitely hadn’t been on that list.
“Twilight?” I asked as I cracked the door open.
“Merry Chrysalis, Sunset,” she said, offering me the gift-wrapped box in her hands.
“First, it’s Christmas, Twilight,” I said, chuckling as I shook my head. “Second, what in Celestia’s name are you doing here?”
“We’re here for the party.” Her smile faded just a bit. “We’re not too late, are we?”
“Nope.” I scratched the back of my neck. “Quite the opposite, in fact. You’re very early.”
“Oh. Good.”
“Like . . .” I sighed. “Like, a whole day early, Twilight.”
“Oh.”
I struggled to stifle a laugh as her face sped through a whole gauntlet of emotions before finally settling on pink-cheeked embarrassment.
“It must have been something with the portal,” she argued with herself. “Maybe it messes with time in a manner I hadn’t been expecting. So we left on the right day, but arrived the day before.”
“Or maybe you read the invitation wrong.” My gaze flickered over. I hadn’t noticed her at first. Another girl. She stood an inch or two taller than Twilight and kept her face hidden behind a mint-green scarf.
“That’s also possible,” Twilight admitted, clutching her present tight to her chest.
“Don’t worry about it.” I stepped aside and motioned for them to enter. “Come on in. Make yourselves at home.” Twilight rushed past me. Her guest was far less energetic, hesitantly taking small steps up to the door. “You alright?” I asked.
“I’m fine.” She tugged the hood of her coat, trying her best to hide.
“Maybe. But you look like you’re struggling. Here.” I reached out my hand.
She stared at my hand, then me, then back to my hand, then down to her own. She lifted it slowly from her side, reaching to take mine. She seemed to wince and recoil constantly, as though she was fighting valiantly against her own instincts.
I didn’t have time for this. I could already feel the air in my house growing colder. So I closed the distance between us, stepped forward and grabbed. She tried to jump back, but she couldn’t find traction on the icy concrete. But before she hit the floor, I grabbed her hand and yanked her inside.
“Hey, what are you–”
“I take it you’re the pony Twilight was telling me about?” I asked, shutting the door behind us. When she stumbled forward a few steps, I noticed her awkward gait. It was a stance I was all too familiar with.
“You . . . you know . . . about . . . that?” The girl said breathlessly.
“Twilight didn’t tell you, huh?” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “I used to be a pony, too. Just like you.”
“Oh.” With only a single syllable, she seemed to warm up a little. “I’m being rude, aren’t I?” She pulled down her hood and unwrapped her scarf, revealing a pink-tinted face and amethyst eyes. “My name is Starlight Glimmer.”
“I take it this is your first time here?” I asked, motioning to her legs.
She glanced down. “Yeah. I guess that’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?”
“Your knees are bowed inward. That makes walking difficult. You have to shift your weight, too. Here, like this.” Without thinking, I stepped forward and straightened her back with a light touch. She flinched as I touched her, but followed my lead without question.
“This better?” she asked. This time, she looked more steady than she sounded.
I nodded. “I know it feels a bit . . . odd. But you’ll get used to it.”
“Thanks.” Starlight glanced away from me. And for the briefest moment, I thought I saw a blush on her cheeks. Before I had any time to consider that fact, though, I heard Twilight in the other room.
“You two alright? Did you get lost?” I glanced around my tiny apartment, confused by how genuine her question sounded.
“Yeah. We’ll be there in a second.” I returned my attention to Starlight. “Go ahead and take your shoes, coat, and scarf off. You can place them over there.” I pointed to a shelf and coat rack beside the door.
Wordlessly, she did as I asked, setting her things right beside Twilight’s. Once that was done, I led her into the living room. I moved slowly, trying my best to keep a discreet eye on her in case she started to stumble again. To her credit, she kept herself upright.
I led her through the front hallway into the living room. Twilight was sitting on the floor, already examining the pile of Christmas ornaments. Her present sat on the mantelpiece.
“Were you planning on putting all of these up yourself?” Twilight asked without looking up.
“Nah.” I shook my head. “I just pick some of the ones that I like the most. The rest go back into storage.”
“I see.” She tapped her chin as she pulled out another ornament.
“Sorry the place isn’t all fancied up yet. Like I said, you did get here a little early.”
“Yeah,” Twilight sighed. “Sorry about that. We should probably head back to the portal soon. We can come back tomorrow.”
“I mean, you could go all the way back to Canterlot High,” I shrugged. “Or you could spend the night here?” Twilight stared at me, awestruck for the moment. She snapped out of it just as quickly.
“Are you sure? We don’t want to be a burden.”
I waved her off. “Sure. I’ve got a guest bedroom you can use. Besides, I could use some help decorating this tree.”
Twilight sat, silently considering the offer. She glanced toward Starlight, who was currently lying on my couch in one the strangest configurations I’d ever seen. She had her arms and legs tucked under her. She almost looked like she was trying to curl up in a ball. It took me a second to realize just what I was looking at.
Starlight was trying to sit like a pony.
“I’m not doing this right either, am I?” she asked, tilting her head towards me. I didn’t realize I’d been staring at her.
“I mean . . . if you’re comfortable?”
“Starlight, are you alright if we stay here tonight?”
“Like, overnight?” Starlight asked.
“Like, overnight.” Twilight confirmed.
“I guess that’s fine.” She sighed. The look on her face didn’t really look ‘fine’ to me. “Because I am not making that trek here and back again.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” Twilight said, rolling her eyes. She turned her attention back to me. “Well, I guess we can stay, then.”
“Awesome.” I felt my lips curl into a smile, mirroring Twilight’s. “Here. Before we start hanging these things, how about we decide which ones are the best?” She nodded, patting the ground beside her, motioning for me to sit. So I did.
We took turns picking an ornament from the box to be subject to our scrutiny. Most were simple, cheap, single-colored glass balls that I found in a box at a discount store. A few were a step up from that, depicting iconic Christmas characters. One of these prompted an interesting question from Twilight.
“Why is this fat man here?” she asked, holding up a glass figurine of Santa Clause.
“That fat man is Santa Claus.” The blank look on her face told me that my answer meant nothing to her. “He’s one of the big figures for Christmas. He goes around on Christmas Eve and delivers presents down the chimneys of good boys and girls.” I closed my eyes, thinking back to the first time I’d heard the story myself. “He rides around the world on a sleigh, pulled by his team of magical flying reindeer.”
When I opened my eyes, I realized Twilight and Starlight were staring at me with wide, terrified eyes. “So,” Twilight began. “He rides a flying sleigh and breaks into people’s homes?”
“Not . . . exactly.” I chewed my tongue. “Okay, yeah, it’s a little weird,” I admitted, bobbing my head back and forth. “But he’s an integral part of Christmas.” I paused to clear my throat. “Also, I don’t think he’s real.”
Twilight pursed her lips. “That story does seem a bit far-fetched. I mean, just thinking about the time it would take to–”
“Twilight.” I frowned. “We’re magical talking ponies from another dimension. Should anything really be far-fetched for us?”
“She makes a decent point,” Starlight said. I watched her move with cautious slowness. That changed when she hit the carpet, dropping to all fours. She crawled over to our ornament pile faster than she could have walked over. “Mind if I take a look?”
I brushed a red lock of hair behind my ear and nodded. “Go ahead.”
Starlight sat between Twilight and I, examining each ornament with almost a child-like enthusiasm as they were added to the heap. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I shouldn’t be surprised by that. This was Twilight’s student after all. The two of them probably read more than the whole of Equestria combined.
“Who is this?” Starlight held up a small gnome-like figure dressed in green.
“That’s an elf. He helps Santa make toys at his workshop.”
“Oh.” She exchanged it for another, this one a red-and-white-striped pole, surrounded by stubby black and white animals. “And this one?”
I held out my hand toward her, palm up. Starlight stared at my hand for a few seconds before slowly taking it. I could see her cheeks redden as she pulled away suddenly. I had to cover my mouth to keep my snickering quiet.
Twilight leaned back and whispered in Starlight’s ear, loud enough for me to hear. “I think she wanted you to hand her the ornament.” In response, Starlight’s blush turned from cute pink to scarlet red.
“Oh. I-I knew that.” She studied a speck of dirt on the floor as she offered me the ornament in question.
“This is a scene of the North Pole. That’s where Santa’s workshop is. It’s where he makes all the toys that he delivers on Christmas Eve.” I bit the corner of my lip. “At least, that’s what all the movies say. I’ve never actually been there to check for myself.”
“And those?” Twilight pointed to the animals around the pole. “Are those elves too?”
“No, those are penguins.” I patted one of them on their tiny, round heads. “They’re not Christmas related, they just like the cold. They live in the area around the workshop.”
“What about this one?” Starlight plucked another bauble from the growing pile.
I turned to see what she’d taken. I recognized it almost immediately. It was a photo of me and the rest of the girls, bound tightly in a candy cane themed frame. Even with a limited view of the picture, I remembered when it was taken. We were all crammed into a mall photo booth. Rainbow and Pinkie were in the center, both making odd faces at the camera. I sat beside them, trying to restrain my laughter. On the other side was Rarity, looking almost ashamed of the company she kept. And Fluttershy, as she was wont to do in front of the camera, was trying to hide behind us. She wasn’t able to, though, thanks to Applejack holding her in place. Just the thought of those happy memories warmed me more than any fireplace or hot cocoa could ever hope.
“They’re the human versions of our friends back in Equestria,” Twilight explained.
I snapped out of my trance and turned to see the two of them inspecting the picture together. “We took that picture last year. Pinkie made sure to get us all one of those to hang on our trees.”
“You girls look so happy,” Starlight muttered with a bittersweet smile. “Do you mind if I start hanging these?”
“You sure?” I arched my brow.
“If you don’t mind. I’ve never actually gotten to hang an ornament on the tree,” Starlight said. She waited until I nodded before standing, her legs popping as she rose. I hunched down, giving Starlight room to step over me to get to the tree.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Starlight as she sized up the tree. “So where do I hang it?”
“Wherever you think it looks best,” I said.
“What if I do it wrong?”
“Relax, Starlight. Decorating is supposed to be fun. You don’t have to worry about being so careful.” I chuckled.
“Right. Relax. I can do that. I’m laid back. I’m easy going. I can do this.” With each word she muttered to herself, I felt my smile widening. Beside me, I saw Twilight roll her eyes. I slid over to her and leaned close.
“Roll your eyes all you want, but who do you think she learned that from?” I asked.
Twilight contemplated the question for a bit before frowning. “What exactly are you implying?” She put her hands on her hips. “For your information, I’ve become extremely easy going recently.”
“Right.” I nodded hard enough to put a crick in my neck. “I’m sure you’re as easygoing as they come, Twilight.”
“Hey, I’m serious.” Twilight made that face. That face she always made when I called her out. An odd mix between complete disgust and an adorable pout. She never failed to impress. “Right, Starlight?” She crossed her arms and raised her chin, waiting for her student to agree. “Starlight?” She opened her eyes. “Starlight!”
I heard a startled yelp behind me. Truthfully, Twilight had even caught me off guard with the sudden volume. I heard Starlight gasp and the crack of glass.
“Oh, crap,” Starlight whined. I turned around to see her standing on the bricks of my fireplace. She must have been trying to reach the higher branches. She, on the other hand, was busy staring down at the ornament she had dropped. I could see the glint of broken glass on the carpet. “I didn’t mean to. I-It slipped and . . . and it hit the b-brick.”
Careful to avoid the wicked looking glass shards, I retrieved the frame and examined it. One of the decorative candy canes had broken off. The glass holding the picture in place was shattered. With a sigh, I set it aside.
“Starlight, take my hand,” I offered. I walked her across the fireplace and out of the range of the glass before helping her down.
“I’m so sorry.” The look on Starlight’s face nearly broke my heart. She seemed completely ashamed. “I didn’t . . .”
“Twilight, can you go fetch me my vacuum? It’s in the laundry room.” I heard Twilight’s footsteps recede behind me. “What about you, Star? You okay? No cuts?”
“I . . . I'm fine.” She refused to look me in the eye.
“Don’t beat yourself up over this. It’s a cheap, two-dollar frame she bought at the store. I can get a new one.” My hand twitched in indecision. That look on her face could break even the most frozen heart. And mine had thawed pretty well over the last few years. I tightened my resolve.
“I knew I shouldn’t have come here.”
“Stop that.” I put a hand on her cheek and lifted her gaze upward. “It’s fine. We’ll get the mess cleaned up. This sort of thing happens all the time.” The moment I released my grip, she clammed back up and crawled to the sofa.
“Here’s the vacuum,” Twilight announced, walking in.
“I’m kind of surprised you knew what a vacuum was, Princess.” I said, adding a whole lot of snark to my voice. Twilight stared at me seriously, but it didn’t take long for her facade to crack into a shy grin. Christmas was a time to be happy. And a little thing like this couldn’t change that.
“We have vacuums in Equestria, Sunset.” Twilight puffed out her chest. “I should know, because every week I tell Spike not to vacuum so loudly.” She said it with a straight face, without a hint of self-awareness. We held the silence as long as we could, but it ended with us both breaking into a fit of giggling.
My laughter faded, though, when I realized that Starlight wasn’t laughing. She was balled up on the couch, trying her best not to touch anything.
“Well, come on, Twilight.” I started to unwind the cord. “Let’s get this cleaned up.”
The rest of the day hadn’t gone much better. Once we finished the tree, we moved on to the rest of the house. Hanging wreaths on doors, setting up poinsettias in the vases, burning the first batch of cookies, putting out a small fire, and eventually making a second batch of cookies. And through it all, I relished Twilight’s company. But I couldn’t ignore Starlight. Wherever we went, she followed, just to stay silent and try her best to stay out of the way.
By the time we went to bed, Starlight still hadn’t said another word. I set her and Twilight up in my guest room along with an entire closet-full of sheets, blankets, and pillows. I even offered them some of my spare pajama pants to sleep in.
Which led me to this point. Lying on my back, staring up at my ceiling fan. Honestly, it’s how I spent more nights than I cared to admit. I tossed and turned constantly, pulling my blanket up to my neck or kicking to the foot of my bed. Yet, all I could think of was Starlight. As her host, my job was to make sure she enjoyed herself. And I failed. Miserably. That wasn’t the main reason I couldn’t sleep, but it certainly didn’t help.
Shifting onto my side, I reached over and switched off the fan on my bedside table. As the blades dragged to a stop, I couldn’t help but feel smothered by the silence. I struggled to breathe. Every time I tried to close my eyes, I–
I sound drew me from my downward spiral. A creak, just outside my door. A noise that, due to the years I spent living here, I knew instinctively. Someone was on the steps outside my bedroom, either going down to the living room or back up. Most likely, it was Twilight, out for a late-night drink or a well-lit place to read.
Quietly as I could, I pulled my sheets down and hopped down over the side of my bed. The springs under the mattress groaned in protest, further hindering my journey. I made sure to keep on my toes – literally, in this case – to stop my bare footsteps from thudding on the hardwood floor.
I snuck my way to the door, turned the handle as far as it would go, and pushed the door open with a gentle hand. My head was the first part of me out the door. I leaned just far enough to catch a glimpse of the stairs. I waited, scanning for anyone or anything that might be waiting for me. I may have theorized the noise was Twilight’s doing, but that didn’t mean I wanted to blunder face-first into a burglar in my pajamas.
As soon as I was sure there wasn’t an ambush waiting for me in my hallway, I stepped out. I made sure to close the door behind me, keeping the handle pulled tight to keep the lock from clicking too loud.
Down the stairs I went, careful to avoid the second step from the top, which I knew for a fact to be the creaky culprit. I hit the living room and crouched behind my sofa. Even as I peeked over for a look around, I couldn’t help but wonder just what it was I was doing down here? I was acting like a thief in my own house. And it certainly didn’t help that I was humming my own spy-esque theme song in my head all the while.
In the kitchen, I heard the back door close. Okay. Definitely not Twilight. Suddenly, my sneaking didn’t seem so childish. I moved from cover to cover until I could finally get a peek of the deck outside my door. I’m not sure what I expected to see out there. A burglar? A monster? An early visit from Santa? Whatever my expectations were, they didn’t involve Starlight. She stood on my deck, leaning against the snowy rail. She still wore my pajamas, complete with the fuzzy slippers I’d lent her just a few hours prior. Just looking at her made me feel cold.
But more than that, it made me feel hollow. It made me sick to my stomach.
Abandoning all pretense of stealth, I made my way to the front hall, selecting both my coat and hers from their hooks. I also stopped long enough to slide my own shoes on. And, with the winter gear in hand, I went back into the kitchen, took a deep breath and pulled the handle on the sliding door.
“Starlight?”
This time, her startled cry was less dramatic. She spun around, nearly slipping on ice that covered the wooden surface.
“Sunset? What are you doing up? Did I wake you?” She wore an expression of shame, like I’d caught her red-handed. Problem is, I didn’t know what I caught her in the middle of.
“Nah. I wasn’t sleeping.” I leaned on the rail next to her and offered her coat.
She took the gift happily and, after a brief struggle, managed to get her arms in the sleeves. “Thanks. I was getting a little cold.”
“I wonder why?” I said flatly, swiping a handful of snow down into the yard below. “So, would you like to tell me why you’re standing on my deck in subzero temperatures at . . .” I scrunched my nose. “About three in the morning, I’d guess.”
She answered in the form of a downward gaze.
“You . . . wanna talk about it?” I offered, trying my best to sound nonchalant.
“Not really.”
“If you say so.”
“Seriously, I’m fine,” Starlight repeated, a little more impatiently this time.
I shrugged. “I see that. See, I’ve spent most of my life ‘being fine’. So, trust me, I know exactly how fine you’re feeling.”
Starlight bit her tongue.
“Look, I won’t force you to talk to me if you don’t want to. I won’t even make you come back inside and warm up.” For a moment, she seemed just the slightest bit relieved. “So, I’ll just go wake Twilight and she’ll make you.”
Starlight gave a frustrated huff. “That isn’t necessary.” The hard lines of her face faded, but her body stayed tense. “I did something really bad, Sunset.”
“Is this about that stupid ornament?” I growled. “I told you not to worry about that.”
“I was so busy staring at the picture. So busy, in fact, that apparently I hadn’t heard Twilight. And then I dropped and broke it. The end.” She sighed. “I really am sorry.”
I folded my arms over my chest. “This . . . isn’t about that . . . is it?”
Starlight shook her head. Her eyes were watering, and something told me that had nothing to do with the cold. But I knew from experience that I couldn’t force it. I just had to wait it out. She’d tell me when she was ready. Instead, I tried a different approach.
“Why were you so interested in that picture?”
“I don’t know. You all looked so happy.” Starlight shrugged. “I was wondering what it will be like when I meet them tomorrow. And . . .” The first tear fell. “And I was wondering if they’ll hate me as much as Twilight’s friends do.”
Another trembling hand. She stood so close. And those same sad eyes. I couldn’t stop myself. I reached out, taking her shoulder and pulling her tight.
“They don’t hate you, Starlight.”
“They do. I know they do. I can see in the way they talk to me. They’re always . . . They’re always judging me.”
“For what?”
“I . . .” Starlight paused, staring up at her namesake in the sky above. “I’m not a good pony, Sunset. I ruined a lot of ponies' lives all because I was jealous. I forced them to follow me, kept them in line with my magic, and kept all of them from realizing their potential. For Celestia’s sake, Sunset, I stole their cutie marks. All because I lost a stupid friend.”
I kept quiet, waiting to see if her rant would continue. When I realized she was done, I chimed in. “You were a villain?” I tried to make the question as sympathetic as I could.
“Yeah. And brainwashing a town to act as my own, personal, equalitarian army was only the half of it. I nearly destroyed Equestria.”
“So, one of the tougher villains?” I corrected.
Starlight didn’t seem to hear me. “And as much as she and the others claim to be my friend, they’ll always have that knowledge in the back of their minds. Heck, I think Twilight only keeps me around because she’s worried I’ll try something else.” Starlight put her back to the rail and slid down until she was sitting in the snow. “I’m not her student, Sunset. I’m just a pet she keeps on a tight leash.”
“I see.” That was all I said.
“Yeah. So, now you know the truth. I’m a horrible pony and will spend the rest of my life regretting it. Congratulations. You’ve solved the mystery.” She tucked her legs up against her chest and linked her arms around them. “Can you please just leave me alone now? I really don’t want to talk about it any more.”
I stayed quiet for a while, running through our conversation in my head. I watched the world from my balcony. Dozens of houses strung up with Christmas lights. A night sky lit up by the light reflecting from the snow. I could even see the roof of Canterlot High in the distance. I felt that familiar sinking feeling in my chest. The same one I always felt when I looked at my school.
“You came through the portal at Canterlot High, right?” I asked.
“Why? Are you going to take me back to the portal and send me home?”
“Sort of. Come on. We’re heading to school.” I stepped back from the edge and offered her my hand. She glared at it like it was a snake, waiting to sink its fangs into her. “I don’t bite. I promise.”
She took my hand with a brokenhearted sigh. “What are we doing?”
“Like I said, we’re going to school. We can take my car.”
Starlight made no attempts to hide her displeasure with my actions, but I refused to leave her to her own devices. Instead, I dragged her out the front door and stuffed her into the passenger seat of my car.
“This is moronic,” she whined.
“Shush. I need to show you something.”
Once I connected her seatbelt for her, I threw the car into reverse and backed out of my driveway. The ride passed in silence. Starlight, I assumed, had no intention of talking, while I didn’t have the slightest clue how I was going to say what I wanted to say. I ran through a couple different speeches in my head, but I still hadn’t picked one by the time I pulled into the Canterlot High parking lot.
“What are we doing here, Sunset?” Starlight asked, fumbling to disconnect her seatbelt.
“There’s something you need to see,” I said. I killed the engine and tucked my keys back into my pocket. Once I was out, I rounded the car to Starlight’s door and pulled it open.
“Hey, what are you–?” I ducked my head in. I could feel the warmth from her coat as I reached across her chest and searched sightlessly for her seat buckle. With a click, the belt released, setting her free.
“Uhh . . . Sunset . . . the seat belt is off. You can let me go now,” Starlight said, trying to hide the redness on her cheeks. With a start, I realized I was still in her personal space. I stammered a meandering apology as I backed away.
“What are we here to see? Is it the portal home?” Starlight asked, motioning to the statue that sat out in front of the school. “Because, even though I joked about it, the princesses probably would lock me up if I came home without her.”
“Follow me.” It was a short walk from my car to the front steps. I sat down in the snow, trying to ignore the cold seeping through my pajamas. Starlight remained standing, despite my efforts to get her to sit next to me.
“Is this supposed to make me feel better? Because it’s not working.”
“You’re scared, Starlight. You made a lot of mistakes in your life. And now that you’ve seen the error of your ways, you’ll spend the rest of your life being haunted by it.” The world disappeared in a blur. The snow shimmered away. And suddenly, I was sitting in front of the school, watching the scene play out before me as it had so many times before.
“What are you–”
I cut her off before she could finish. “You’re screwed up. You know that. After everything you’ve done, how could you possibly believe anyone would want to be with you. You’re right. Twilight keeps you on a tight leash to make sure you don’t screw up again.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
I could still see the smoking crater. And the arrogant young idiot Twilight was currently helping out of it. “It feels like nothing in your life will ever wash away the stain of everything you’ve done wrong.”
“I . . . yeah.” Starlight finally relented, plopping down onto the snowy step beside me.
“And now Twilight’s got you running around trying to make amends with everyone you hurt. And no matter what they say or how they treat you, you always wonder in the back of your mind if they’re thinking about the thing you’ve done. If they’re judging you.”
“You . . .” Starlight opened and closed her mouth a few times.
“I came to show you that.” I pointed at the wall behind us.
Starlight turned to follow. “The wall?”
“Yep. Take a closer look. Do you notice anything?”
“It’s made out of brick?”
“Do you see the line? Where the brick color changes?”
Which made me want to laugh. I wound up crying instead. “It’s funny how you can’t see it, isn’t it?”
“Sunset, are . . . are you crying?”
“I walk past it every day, Starlight. I see that line. The mark. But I’m the only one who sees it anymore.” Truthfully, I didn’t need to see it. Just being in the place brought back enough memories. “They had to rebuild the entire front of the school. You can see the seam where the old brick wall meets the new brick wall.”
“That . . . that’s what was supposed to cheer me up?” Starlight raised an eyebrow. “I think all it did was upset you.”
I wiped my teary eye on my jacket sleeve. “You’re missing my point, Starlight. Or maybe it’s just that my sleep-deprived brain is having trouble keeping my thoughts straight.” I swallowed hard. “I used to be you. That seam in the wall is where I demolished the front of the school.”
“You . . . what?” The look of surprise on Starlight’s face made me burst out laughing.
“Twilight really didn’t tell you?” She shook her head. “The first time she met me was when I broke into her castle and stole her crown. I brought it back here and made her chase after me.” I shook my head. “It turned into this whole fiasco where the crown ended up as a prom crown, I think.”
“You stole Twilight’s crown?”
“Twice.”
“And you’re still alive.”
“Despite her best efforts.” I smiled, letting her know that it was a joke. “With Twilight’s crown, I had my magic again, but it . . . it turned me into a monster. I took control of the minds of every student at the school and was going to tear open a portal to Equestria and conquer it with my army of students.” I played up the ending, like I was telling a ghost story around a campfire.
“What happened after that?” Starlight asked. I could see the thoughtful gaze in her eye.
“The usual. A rainbow explosion knocked some sense into me.” I shrugged. “But when I was at my lowest, Twilight offered me a hand. She pulled me up out of the dirt. And I’ve been struggling to walk the right path since then.”
“Struggling?” She shifted a little closer to me. “Honestly, you make being good look easy.”
“It really wasn’t.” This time, I inched a little closer to her. I could feel my fingers gently brush over hers. “I spent a long time trying to fix my mistakes. I didn’t have any friends and everyone at the school hated me. I couldn’t blame them.”
“But things changed,” Starlight said, the dawning realization visible on her face.
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you.” I dropped the pretense. I wound my fingers through hers and took her hand in mine. “The next bit of your life is going to suck. Completely. Everyone you meet, you’ll feel like they’re judging you. And it hurts. Like hell. You won’t see the light at the end of the tunnel.”
Starlight sniffled. Tears were welling in her eyes again.
“But listen to me, Starlight.” We turned to face one another. “I promise you that light is there. You will get through it. You just have to stay strong and keep trying. Believe me. I used to come here at night, sit here, and feel the exact same way that you do.”
“It won’t be easy, will it?”
“Nothing worth doing ever is,” I said back. “But, you do have one advantage over me.”
“What’s that?” She glanced at me sideways.
“You’re not alone.” I pulled on her arm, tugging her in for a tight hug. “I’ve been where you are. I’ve felt the same pain you have. You have to trust me and hold on just a little longer. Can you do that?”
“I . . . I’ll try.” Starlight whimpered.
“Good. Then we should probably get back before Twilight wonders where everyone went.” I went to stand, but Starlight’s weight in my hand wouldn’t let me. “You okay?”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like this,” she said. “Would . . . it be alright if you just . . . h-held me a little longer?”
“Sure thing, Star.”
We sat on those stairs for a long time without saying another word. I just held on tight while Starlight buried her head against my chest. We even started to rock a little, back and forth to the rhythm of the first song that popped into my head. That damned spy theme from back at my house. I cursed myself silently for that.
“Alright. I think I’m ready,” Starlight finally decided.
“Good. If we sit here any longer, I think my butt is going to freeze on these stairs.” I stood. This time, Starlight stood with me so that she didn’t have to let go of my hand. It was a beautiful sight until she hit the patch of ice beneath us. Her already awkward method of walking worked even less effectively on ice.
I tried desperately to save her. In doing so, I became just another casualty, though. Together, the two of us crashed back down onto concrete. Luckily, the snow broke most of the impact. Unfortunately, that meant I now had cold water running down the back of my shirt. The two of us lay there beside one another, staring up at the starry sky.
“Sunset?” Starlight asked.
“Yeah?”
“Do . . . Do you think I could get . . . an i-invite to your parties more often?”
“I thought you didn’t want to be around my friends?” I asked with a sly smile.
“I still don’t.” She chuckled. “But I think I could put up with them . . . as long as it meant I could spend a little more time with you.”
“I really like having you around, Starlight. You can visit as often as you like. Or as often as Twilight would like, I should say. Speaking of which . . .”
“Sunset?”
“Starlight?”
“I just remembered something I wanted to ask you earlier. You had an ornament that looked just like that little plant on your tree. Is that another of your Chris-Mass traditions?”
“Christmas,” I corrected. “And as to your question . . .” I looked to where she was pointing. Hanging over the doors to the school were small bundles of green leaves. “Yes. That is another Christmas tradition.”
“How does a plant help Santa?”
“It doesn’t. The plant is another tradition. Here, let me show you.” I rolled over until I was close enough to reach Starlight. There, somewhat underneath the mistletoe, I brushed my lips softly against hers.
“I think I might actually like this one,” Starlight snickered. Her lips met mine halfway.
Yeah, I thought, I think I really like this tradition, too.
