Making It Work

by Perfectly Insane

Rating: teen
Tags: Fluttershy (EqG), Romance, Drama, Original Character, Pinkie Pie (EqG), Equestria Girls, Sex, Profanity, Human
Length: 18727

For most people, seven is seen as the lucky number. For me, it's Eight.

My name is Eight.

Yes, like the number. No, I didn't choose it. I can't even say why my name is Eight. Every time I've asked my dad, he just says he'll tell me when I'm 'eighteen' and starts laughing. So I don't ask anymore.

Usually, I just do my own thing. I have surface friends, try to get through high school, the works. I wouldn't say I have a boring life, just nothing particularly exciting happens.

At least, until both of the only girls I regularly talk to ended up confessing to me when I thought they couldn't possibly be interested. Instead of choosing one or the other, I decided to propose the idea of dating both of them at the same time.

I am way in over my head.

*Edited with the appreciated assistance of Arkadios!*

Published 2022-02-19 19:20:01 UTC
Last updated 2023-09-20 17:38:31 UTC

Chapter Two: Fine Dining.

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Chapter Three: You (Don't) Have a Choice.

Author's Note

Yahallo! This chapter...exist, I guess? I don't have any confidence in it or feel it conveyed exactly what I wanted it to, or as well as I wanted to, but it's done. Please tell me if you spot any issues such as grammar or story, feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments, and enjoy!

Chapter Three: You (Don't) Have a Choice.

I stared at my phone for what felt like an uncomfortably long time, but what was likely only a minute or so. Every neuron in my brain had been expecting Fluttershy to say no, even if I had hoped she’d say yes. Now that she had said yes, what was I supposed to say?

Pinkie never gave her answer… What if she said no?

Eight? Fluttershy said, calling me back to reality.

I leaned forward, responding a lot faster than I probably should have. Are you sure?

Anxiety made its return as I watched her chat bubble pop up and down. I think so, came her reply. At the very least, I’m willing to try it. If it’s ok with you and Pinkie, that is. We’d have to talk about it, of course.

Yeah, of course. Do you want to call sometime, or just wait until Friday?

What exactly did she want to talk about? Thinking about it, I didn’t recall Fluttershy and I ever talking about relationships at all. I couldn’t even say what she wanted out of one. Marriage? As beautiful as she’d have looked in a wedding dress, it might not even have been something she’d be interested in. Kids, on the other hand, were something she’d almost certainly have wanted.

But would I? While I’d dated, none of the relationships had had any long term thought put into it. I'd just never thought I’d be in one that had the potential to last. Pinkie and I hadn’t talked about it either. What if she doesn’t want kids but Fluttershy does?

I really have to learn to ask more questions about stuff before going through with them.

I’d rather wait until Friday, if you don’t mind. Actually, speaking of Pinkie.

She kept typing for a while, like she was trying to think of how to phrase something. Maybe Pinkie had a point about texting being really impersonal; it’s hard to tell the tone of what someone’s saying, and there’s no body language to go off of.

Can I ask a favor? You’re absolutely free to say no: I wouldn’t want to take up too much of your time.

I’m not exactly a busy guy, Shy. I’d be happy to help you.

Well…

Instead of staring at the phone screen and waiting for her text, I stood up and opened the window. It wasn’t nighttime quite yet, still an hour or so before then. It was the enjoyable time between day and night, where the sun was setting and the moon was just barely visible in the sky.

To this day, I found it just as breathtaking as when I first saw it. My favorite time of day without a doubt.

After the party yesterday, Pinkie hasn’t talked to any of us. She hasn’t responded to any texts or anything, and I’m really worried it has something to do with what we talked about. Do you think you could check on her? She’s never done this before.

That does sound off. Why me though? I don’t even know her address or if she’d be cool with me just showing up like that.

I don’t believe she’d have a problem with it. The others don’t think anything is wrong. She did mention at the party that she might be busy tomorrow, but something about her smile last night just… bothered me. Maybe I’m just worrying myself sick over nothing, but I can’t help but think something is wrong.

Pinkie always made time for her friends, or would at least text back to not worry them. Hearing her not respond at all was worrying. However, maybe her friends knew her better than I did. While I like her, the only things I know about her are from the various topics we’ve talked about. Her friends have spent more time with her; I’m sure there’s plenty of stuff to learn.

Although, hearing Fluttershy worried about something made it hard to say no. She’d probably struggle to fall asleep thinking about it. It’s not like I have much else to do, anyway.

I can probably swing by depending on how far it is. Can you shoot me the address?

_____________________

Pinkie’s house was much larger than I thought it’d be, and also closer. About a ten-minute walk, which could have been faster if I didn’t drag my feet a little. It was two stories and well maintained; her dad must have been the type who mowed as soon as he had the excuse to.

With a deep breath and a quick once over, I knocked on the door…which opened pretty much instantly, to my surprise. It was a woman I’d never seen before, wearing a spiked sleeveless leather jacket over a white t-shirt, along with ripped jeans and boots that looked uncomfortably big. She had a couple of piercings, and I could make out the edges of a tattoo peeking out from under her shirt sleeve.

Even her yellow eyes and short, grey hair were completely different from Pinkie's. I wondered for a moment if Fluttershy had sent me the wrong address or something.

“You’re not Fla—” She bit her lip, glancing away as she crossed her arms. “Uh… The usual pizza guy." Her eyes narrowed. "Who the fuck are you?”

“Uh,” I glanced over her shoulder. For a moment, I thought I spotted someone peeking around the corner, then darting as soon as I saw them. Though that may have been my imagination. “I’m Eight. Does Pinkie live here?”

“Eight? What, do you have seven siblings named One to Seven? Weird-ass thing to look into your baby’s eyes and name them,” she remarked, leaning against the doorway. “Yeah, she lives here. Are you another one of her friends or something? She’s not gonna sleep with you, y’know. She’s not that kind of party girl.”

“What? No, I don’t want to—” I stopped myself, knowing that I’d just be giving into her provocation. “Fluttershy’s worried about her and asked me to make sure she’s ok; that’s all. Can I see her if she’s here?”

She visibly recoiled, narrowing her eyes and almost grimacing as she tapped her finger against her elbow. “Oh, she’s here. Just hasn’t left her room all day. I’m not sure if she wants to see anyone, but hey, if you want to try, go ahead.”

As she stepped aside, I hesitantly walked in, only to be halted by her iron grip around my shoulder. Every inch of my body told me to get away as far as possible, even if I couldn’t. It felt like if I tried to get out of it, she’d rip out everything she had a handle on.

“If you hurt her,” she leaned in, whispering into my ear. “I’ll break you. Get me?”

“Yes ma’m.” I said in a pathetically high-pitched voice, my fragile masculinity shattered by the absolute terror she instilled.

“Good. She’s up the stairs and the first door on the right.”

She let go of me with notable reluctance before shutting the door and plopping onto the couch. I expected her to watch something on the TV. Instead, she just turned it on a blank screen with a light static noise and picked up a book off the coffee table.

I decided to not further question her.

While walking up the stairs, I couldn’t shake the feeling I was being watched by somebody. It was hard to ignore, as much as I wanted to. Probably just my paranoia at work, but I could have sworn I saw a girl with long hair hanging poking her head out just around the corner.

“Pinkie?” I said in a hushed tone as I knocked softly on the door, keeping my gaze on the corner. “You in here? I’m kind of a tad freaked out.”

“...Eight?”

If it hadn’t been so quiet in the house, I wouldn’t have heard her voice. It was so…empty, totally lacking of that near contagious pep. I almost didn’t even register it as hers.

“Yeah, Fluttershy was worried about you and wanted me to make sure you were ok.”

“Fluttershy?” I vaguely heard the sound of shuffling. “I guess I didn’t do a good job then, huh? Well, you can tell her I’m ok.”

“Are you though?” I pressed my ear against the door to try to hear her. Everything she said came out so meek and flat, making me more worried with each word.

“...I will be, eventually.”

“That’s—” I placed my hand on the doorknob, considering just opening it, or trying to if it’s not locked. I shook my head, deciding against it. That would be a total breach of her trust. If she wanted me to see her, she’d open the door herself. “—not exactly reassuring, Pinks. Please, at least let me see you.”

“I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“Pinkie, please. I want to help. I promise, however you look right now, I won’t judge.”

There was that same shuffling noise, but much closer this time. I was fairly certain she was standing just on the other side.

“You can’t really help judging; it’s something your brain does automatically as a result of evolution. It’s like trying to not think of something.” she explained. “But, I appreciate the sentiment.”

I was speechless for a moment. Then, a clicking noise came as she unlocked the door, followed by the sound of her dragging footsteps.

“You can come in.”

Her voice was distant again—she'd likely gone to the other side of the room. I found myself semi-nervous as I rested my hand on the door, mind racing at what could be on the other side. Pinkie didn’t seem the type to care about her appearance that much, so why would she bothered by me seeing her now?

I gulped as I turned the knob. The door made a grating, squeaking noise as it opened and closed behind me.

The inside of her room was nearly barren of any light. Even the shades on her window were closed. I could just make out the bright coloring of the walls, and some of the hearts and pictures strewn about. At least her bed was comfortable to sit on.

Pinkie herself blended into the darkness eerily well, sitting in a corner of the room and lacking her usual color. That pleasant pink had faded almost to gray; her usual curly hair had fallen flat, resembling a silky curtain instead of cotton candy. It covered her face so much that I could only see her eyes, which were dull, too, and devoid of their usual sparkle.

What unnerved me most was that she wasn’t even looking at me, but at a sandwich sitting right in front of her, staring at it like it was going to grow legs and run away at any moment.

“So,” I started, the tension in the room uncomfortably thick. “Do you wanna…tell me what happened?”

“What makes you think anything happened?”

“Well,” I was so used to seeing Pinkie’s expressions when we talked; not seeing it was jarring. Combined with her voice, I had to keep reminding myself that this was Pinkie. “This isn’t exactly in character for you. If there’s something you need to talk about, I’m here.”

She glanced at me for just a moment, then back to her sandwich. That response bothered me a lot more than just a ‘no’ would have.

“Is…it because of the Fluttershy stuff?”

“No,” she stated without an ounce of hesitation.

I rapped my fingers against her bed, trying to think of another straw to grasp it. “Did something happen at the party last night?”

Pinkie closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and tightening her arms around her knees. “No. The party was fine.”

Her voice cracked, just a bit. I didn’t know if that meant she was lying about the party, or she just didn’t want me to keep asking. Admittedly, I wasn’t sure if I should keep asking. The last thing I wanted to do right now was push her.

That being the case, what was I supposed to do? Just leave her to stew in whatever was bothering her? I couldn’t in good conscience do that, especially not when I told Fluttershy I’d make sure she was ok. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I left and she didn’t get better.

“Was it,” I fidgeted on her bed, sharply inhaling. “Something I said? I’m sorry if—”

“It wasn’t anything anyone did!” Pinkie shouted, getting to her feet. She peered at me; her face morphed into an agonizingly angry sneer. Her arms hung rigidly to her sides, hands clenched into fist that rocked.

“No one said or did anything to me. No one died, no one left. I didn’t fail a test or get a mean text or see something sad on TV. Nothing happened. In fact, I should be happy! Everything’s going well; I have friends and family who love me. All my parties are great. Nothing’s wrong! Nothing's…” her lips trembled as she let out a wry laugh. “Wrong. I…I just feel like this, for no reason. I hate it so much.”

“I…” My mind was blank. It was like everything had frozen except for us, and I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. No matter how much I wanted to.

Pinkie flinched, turning away from me and bringing her hands to her face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to blow up at you like that." Pinkie sat back down on the floor after letting out a muffled sob. “It’s frustrating, and I’m just tired. So tired.”

“I…I didn’t know.” I finally managed to stutter out. “I can leave if you want.”

She sat there in silence, awkwardly rubbing her shoulders with a downtrodden expression. “I don’t know what I want right now. I hate being around people when I’m like this, but…” She trailed off, leering at the sandwich, like it had somehow scorned her. “Maybe talking for once will help.”

“For once?” My eyes widened as I leaned forward. “You’ve never told anyone?”

“No, why bother?” she retorted with a sardonic scoff. “They can’t help me. Especially when I don’t know why it happens. They’ll want to try, then they’ll fail. They’ll feel bad, and I’ll feel worse. It’s enough of a burden for me to bear. It doesn’t need to be anyone’s problem but mine.”

“Pinkie…” My heart practically sank straight into my stomach. My throat felt tight as I tried to speak. “How long have you been dealing with this?”

“A few years. It’s only happened a couple times, but it usually lasts the entire day. Sometimes longer.”

“Have you considered seeing someone?”

I was just saying the first thing that came to mind; this was way out of my depth. Having conversations about various topics was one thing, but mental health wasn’t something I ever thought I could help with. As much as I wanted to help her, I didn’t know how.

It was a feeling of helplessness I’d never felt before, and I hated it.

“Of course, I’m not dumb,” she snapped at me, immediately regretting it as she cringed. “Sorry. I know you’re just trying to help,” she muttered as she returned to her fetal position. “I’ve considered it, but I don’t think it’d be worth it. Either I’ll get medication that won’t work or that I’ll become dependent on to function. Or, just maybe, I’ll unload everything and they’ll give me advice on what to do. Telling me that it ‘gets better’.”

Pinkie buried her head in her knees, leaving just a small slit to see through. “Which is bullshit. It doesn’t ‘get better’, you just learn to deal with it. I’m dealing with it like this; I’d rather not waste my time and someone else's when this works.”

“So, you just sit in your room all day staring at a sandwich when you get depressed? What about your plans for that day?”

Everything I was saying risked setting off a metaphorical landmine, and probably came off as insensitive as it sounded. Maybe I should have paid more attention to those melodramatic scenes in the late night soap operas. At least then I’d have a rough idea of what to say.

“I can usually tell when things are going to get bad a few days before. I kind of…” She bit her lip, briefly clearing her throat. “Like the day off, in a weird way. As for the sandwich,” Pinkie reached forward, placing her hand on the plate. She grabbed it like she was going to pull it towards her, but instead shook her head as she pushed it farther away. “I’m aware how this sounds coming from me, but I don’t actually like needing to eat. Food itself and enjoying all kinds of candy and pastries is great, yeah. Sometimes, though, I find it more trouble than it's worth. When I get like this, I don’t want to do anything. So,”

It took me a moment to realize what she was implying.

“You…don’t eat anything?” I asked, though I already knew the unsettling answer.

“Yeah, it…” she paused, biting her lip again. “It strangely gives me a sense of pride. My body keeps telling me to eat something, but I don’t want to. So I put what I need most in front of me, and I keep saying ‘no’. It helps me feel a bit of control. Just a tiny bit, but it’s enough.”

“That—” What was I even supposed to say to that? The longer I stayed there, the more I think I could only say things that would make her feel worse. “—can’t be good for you. I ju—”

“I know it’s not good for me, ok? It just…” she reached over to grab something; a small, green stuffed alligator with oversized eyes. She clutched it to her chest. “It helps. That’s all that matters right now; getting through it however I have to.”

“I…I don’t know what to say, Pinkie. I really don’t.”

“Maybe,” she pulled it closer to her chest, hands shaking as she clutched it. “There’s nothing you can say.”

“But…I want to help you. I—”

“You can’t!” she screamed, glaring at me with tears at the corner of her eyes. “Don’t you get it? Nothing you say can help! It’s like a rock tied to my chest that gets heavier with each heartbeat; sometimes, just breathing seems like too much. I’ve cried so much. I barely have the energy to speak, so all I can fucking do is think! Think about how my friends would feel if they found out, think how much of a burden I’d be! Or, hey, better yet, why not start thinking about stuff I can’t do anything about!”

She shot up, wearing a crooked smile on her face as she cried. I wanted to get up and hug her, say whatever I could to make her feel better, but she was right: there was nothing I could say to help. I could only sit on her bed and listen.

“All the people in poverty or who are suffering, or how many people who get mistreated every day because of stereotypes. All these movements come too late. I want to help so many people, but I can’t! Any attempt at change would take too long, or maybe even worthless. Sometimes, humanity’s so cruel, Eight. I know there are good people in the world. It’s just really hard to remember that sometimes. I…” her words caught in her throat, chin trembling like it was getting gradually harder for her to speak. “Hate the way I think sometimes. I like making people happy, making them smile and laugh. I try so hard to understand each person I meet, and it hurts. I-I just, can’t…”

She gradually ran her hands up the side of her head, gripping her hair like she was going to pull it out. A disconcerting guttural sound slipped past her lips; somewhere between a hollow laugh and a sorrowful weep.

It was agonizingly grating to hear.

“I don’t know if I like anything about me, Eight. Am I being sincere? Is everything just an act and this is just the result? Is this who I am? I don’t know.”

She stood just a few feet in front of me, standing in her heart pajamas and crying. Pinkie, who had always seemed the happiest person I knew, was miserable. Her smile was infectious, always waiting for me in the library to talk about whatever she felt like that day. It felt like we’d never run out of things to say.

Now I had, when words were what I needed most.

“I…I like you, Pinkie.” I whispered as I got to my feet. “It might not be what you want to say right now, but it’s all I’ve got. I like a lot of things about you; your smile, your sense of humor, especially the way you think. I’ve never talked to someone like you, really. Our conversations in the library were some of the things I looked forward to most; they felt pretty sincere to me.”

“...you’re just saying that.” she whimpered, looking at me with half closed eyes.

“Yeah, and I’m meaning it too.”

I took a few steps until I was inches away from her. She didn’t back away, only tensing up. I wanted to reach forward and touch her, but I didn’t want to risk doing anything that might make her worse.

“Even if you don’t like who you are, I do. So does Fluttershy, and so do all of your friends. It might be hard to remember that sometimes, but it’s true. And…” I rest my hand on her shoulder, making it obvious what I was trying to do so she could stop me at any time. “You’re right. Nothing I can say can help you; I can’t help you, no matter how much I want to. Despite that, I want to let you know I’m here for you. It’s not like I have a life. Though I doubt that’ll make you feel better at all.”

“It doesn’t, really. But,” she wiped her face, gently taking my hand and holding it in between hers. “Thank you. You could have just left at the door, yet you came in any way. I appreciate it, it means a lot to me. Even if it doesn’t seem like it right now. I’ll get better, I promise.”

“Then you’ll get bad again, right?”

Pinkie pursed her lips, clenching my hands to the point of being a little painful. “Yes. it always will. I’ll get better, then at some point, I’ll get bad again. Sometimes months apart, sometimes days. I don’t like it either, Eight. Maybe at some point I’ll try to get help. Right now, I just want to deal with it myself. Ok?”

I opened my mouth to retort, closing it just as quickly. “Ok. do you want me to leave?”

She closed her eyes, kissing my hand and then letting go of it. “Please. Having someone to listen to helped, but being around others like this is harder for me. I promise, if I think I can’t handle it, I’ll call you.”

Her smile was already beginning to falter; Pinkie couldn’t even keep eye contact with me. I wanted to stay, hold her, tell her whatever she wanted to hear. None of those things would help her, I couldn’t help her. If I stayed, I would just keep stumbling over my words and making it worse.

At this point, leaving was the only thing I could do to help.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” I remarked dejectedly, turning away from her and making my way to the door. Some part of me hoped she would grab me by the sleeve, tell me that she changed her mind and ask me to stay.

She didn’t.

Pinkie’s sister was still laying on the couch, reading a book I couldn’t make out the cover of. As soon as I opened the door, she grumbled something under her breathe.

“What?” I asked as I turned to her.

“I said:” she lowered her book, leering at me with an annoyed glare. “Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out, dickwad. Now get the fuck out of my house.”

For a second, I wanted to retort with something. Just as quickly realizing how bad of an idea that would have been. I left the house, taking a few steps away from it and setting my back against a tree; gradually sliding down it onto the floor as I pulled out my phone. Fluttershy had sent me a message or two.

Are you ok? I shouldn’t have asked you to go out so late.

My thumb hovered over the keyboard, mind blank at what I should say. The truth? No, then I’d have to explain what happened with Pinkie and that would just worry her more. I couldn’t leave her on read, either. I don’t like doing that to people in general, especially to Fluttershy.

I guess I had no choice but to lie.

Yeah, I’m fine.

Chapter 4: Sunny Side Up

Pinkie was not fine.

I was not fine.

It being Monday morning did not help.

I couldn’t stop thinking about Pinkie: how she looked, her voice, what she said, how desperately she wanted to be alone. I still couldn't believe the girl I saw last night and the one I'd always known were the same person.

And I just left her crying in her room because I couldn’t help.

Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t remember anything I was being taught. I tried to focus on everything they said, but after a few sentences I’d already forgotten what it was just a few minutes later. It was sheer luck that the teachers didn't call me for some questions or give us work that wasn’t just meant to keep us busy.

Maybe it would have been better if I'd stayed home.

Pinkie did. Well that, or she was just avoiding me entirely. Usually, I’d see her at least once in the hallway or at lunch; always in the library at the end of the day. Not this time. Other than Cheerliee, it was empty. I stood in the doorway for an uncomfortable amount of time, staring at the table we always talked at. Some part of me hoped she would simply appear, waving her arm and bringing up some ridiculous topic I’d never given thought to beforehand.

Of course, she didn't.

I dragged my feet as I approached the table, collapsing into the chair with a sigh as I set my backpack on the ground. I pulled out my phone, staring at my reflection in the black screen: my skin paler than before and my hair was an unkempt mess. While I wasn't a complete stickler about my appearance, I usually took better care of it than this.

My finger hovered over the power button as I hesitated to turn my phone on. After I woke up and hit my alarm, I shut it off and hadn't touched it since. There was no real reason for it aside from just not wanting to. What was I so afraid would happen? Pinkie would message me something? Fluttershy would ask if I was lying to her?

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath as I pressed the button and heard the chime of a single notification: Fluttershy thanking me for checking up on Pinkie. No other texts.

It was tempting to send Pinkie something, even just as simple as "you aight?". I’d be happy with getting left on read, as long as she was okay.

But would I just be annoying her? I already went to her house, and that didn’t make things any better. Not that texting her would do anything; I couldn’t take anything she might say at face value, knowing how she looked behind the screen.

All I could do was wait until I heard back from her.

“Oh, hey,” a familiar voice came from the doorway, though I couldn’t place where I recognized it from. “You’re Eight, right?”

I turned to find a mustard-and-ketchup-haired girl shooting me with a finger gun gesture, wearing an uncertain smile as she approached me.

“Uh, yeah?” I responded, placing my phone down face-first as I turned to her. “Pinkie’s not here if you’re looking for her.”

“I wouldn’t expect her to be, she’s sick. Did she not tell you?” she asked as she sat where Pinkie usually did, which felt wrong and bothered me more than I thought it would.

“No.”

“Huh.” she added, rapping her fingers against the table. “Well, I’m Sunset Shimmer; it’s nice to meet you. Pinkie’s told me a thing or two.”

“Sunset?” I’d heard that name somewhere before, just couldn’t quite place where. “As in Sunny? Pinkie mentioned that you’re dating someone named Wally now?”

“Oh, she told you?”Sunset asked, eyes briefly widening. “Yeah. We’d been talking for a while, just only recently made it official. I didn’t really wanna make a big deal out of it, but you know how Pinkie is.”

She got a message on her phone, which caused her to smile as she started sending something back. For a moment, I think she forgot where she was, giggling to herself before looking up and remembering I was here. Poorly trying to play it off as coughing as she put her phone back in one of the pockets of her jackets.

“So, why did your parents name you Eight?”

“You know, I don’t get that question as often as you might think.” I remarked. “In all honesty, I have no idea. I’ve asked my dad a couple of times, but he’s always just responded with ‘I’ll tell you when you’re Eight-teen’. Which is in a few months, so I’ll get back to you on that.”

“Pft, alright.” She fidgeted in the chair, gripping it by the sides as she struggled to comfortably position herself. “So, are you and Pinkie a thing?”

I tensed up at the abrupt question. “Uh, sorta? Why? Did she say something?”

“Nah, just had a hunch. I mean, you guys spend a lot of time alone together. She talks about you every now and again, and- wait, what do you mean ‘sorta’? How are you ‘sorta’ dating someone?”

“Hm.” I hummed, debating for a moment whether I should bring up Fluttershy or not. Just because she was reticently okay with being in a three way relationship didn’t mean she wanted others to know about it. “We talked about it, pretty recently actually. There was someone else who was interested though, so we talked about a—” The words caught in my throat for a moment; I glanced away as I pulled my chair closer to the table. “Polyamorous relationship. Didn’t really come to a consensus though.”

“Really? Cool.”

I stared at her for a second, expecting some sudden shift in expression or her voice. While I hadn’t said it to anyone before, I expected a raise of the eyebrow or something. No reaction at all was somehow more unnerving.

“You don’t think that’s weird?”

Her eyes narrowed like she didn’t understand the question, then widened as she placed her hands against the edge of the table. “Oh yeah, that’s not a normal thing here. Where I come from, group relationships are as normal as monogamous ones; more common, actually. It’s kind of seen the same way people have friends, being that you can like different people for different reasons. If you like Pinkie but also like someone else, and she’s ok with it, why not?”

She just perfectly articulated my reasoning for wanting to date both of them, and it sounded much more reasonable coming from someone else. I couldn’t help but let out a breath I’d been holding, feeling the tension eb out as I was able to more or less relax.

“Right?” I added. “I spent like an hour looking through forums and stuff, and it's not as talked about as I thought it’d be. I guess monogamous relationships have been so strictly normalized that most people are a lot more hesitant to go against it then most thing.”

“Well,” she drawled, sharply inhaling through her teeth. “That might be part of it, but also I think religion and culture are the biggest hurdles. Some religions are ok with it, but the biggest ones like Christianity reinforce it as a big no-no. Maybe after a few decades when all relationships are considered fine by the majority regardless of sexual orientation and gender identity, there will be a bigger push for relationships containing multiple partners.”

“Huh.” I replied. All the things she said made sense, though in a way that bothered me with how true it rang. “Sounds like you’ve looked a lot into this.”

“Oh, you know, only a healthy amount. A couple of studies, research articles, various internet threads,” she cringed, “4chan.”

The disgust in her voice was almost tangible, and unfortunately well understood. “So, you mentioned ‘that’s not normal here’. Where are you from that they’re ok?”

“Uhm,” she froze up, sucking in her lips and fidgeting her hands. “Brazil?”

“You’re from Brazil?” I asked as I raised my eyebrow. “I didn’t know poly relationships were ok there.”

“Well, yesn’t.” She said with a slight tilt to her head. “They’re illegal, but it’s not really enforced. You’d be surprised how many places are like that.”

“Probably not, actually. I had a teacher once who was obsessed with the history of laws and what was going on when they were passed; every day she’d start the period with some obscure legal thing, what led to it, and how it’s changed overtime; I still think about how in Alabama it's illegal for people to have ice cream because they used to do that to lure and steal horses.”

“I,” her eyes narrowed, bringing up her hand to say something, but then leaving her mouth open to drop it. “Huh. didn’t know that one.”

“Yeah.” I added. “So, are you in a poly relationship then?”

“Oh, Celestia no.” Sunset remarked, letting out a wry laugh. “I’m terrible with people normally; it’s a miracle I found even one person who liked me enough to date me. Even if I did, I don’t think Wallflower would be ok with it. She’s really self-conscious: If I brought in a third person, she’d immediately assume it’s because she’s not enough for me, and I,” her eyebrows drew together, biting her lips as her eyes slanted. “Can’t picture that going well for anyone.”

Fluttershy immediately came to mind; though she never expressed a fear of not being good enough, I’m sure it’s something that’s crossed her mind more than once. I couldn’t say if there was anything I could say that would convince her, if anything, she was too good for me.

If I couldn’t help Pinkie, then what could I even do for Fluttershy?

“Then,” I hung my head. “What can I do to make sure they don’t feel like that?”

It was a struggle to keep the desperation out of my voice. Still, I could tell she picked up on it. Sunset stared me in the eyes, peering like she was searching for something.

“Really? Not much. Emotions, especially insecurities, are super irrational. Rarely can you say one thing that will make it better; it just doesn’t work like that.” she brought her hand forward to touch mine, sharply sucking air through her teeth as she stopped right before swiftly pulling her hand back. “Constant and consistent positive reinforcement is the best thing you can do. Spend time with them, just them. Learn everything you can from their likes and dislikes; it’s not that different from what you’d do in a monogamous relationship. Show them you like them because they’re them, and that they’re special to you in a way no one else is.”

“What if-” I was interrupted by a text message. Thinking it was Pinkie, I immediately checked it, feeling a tiny blot of shame as I did. It wasn’t Pinkie: Instead, Fluttershy sent a short text, asking ‘Are you free to talk?’

“I have to call someone,” I quickly got out of my chair, pushing it back into the table. “I’m sorry, really, but this is important.”

“It’s fine! I totally get it.” Sunset exclaimed, pulling her phone out and sending a text before standing herself. “I’ve got a date in an hour. I was just gonna hang around until then, but I don’t think she’ll mind if I show up early. It was nice meeting you!”

She muttered something under her breath, shaking her head and adjusting her hair. I expected Fluttershy to answer as soon as I started calling since she texted me, but instead it rang for a few seconds. I paced a line in the center of the library, tapping my fingers against my thigh as various thoughts pushed their way into my mind like an annoying tune from an ad.

Fluttershy sounded almost desperate in that text, or I might be looking too into it. Did Pinkie talk to her about something? Pinkie already told the others she was sick, but hasn’t said anything to me since last night; maybe they talked about something else? W-

The ringing stopped with a click as she picked up the phone; I could just barely pick up her soft breathing. “E-eight? Sorry to bother you if you were busy with something.”

Her voice was extremely meek, even compared to usual; Whispering so quietly into the phone that I wouldn’t be able to hear it if I wasn’t in the center of the library and completely alone.

Well, not completely: Cheerliee was here.

“I wasn’t doing anything. What’d you need?”

“Uhm, well,” she made some painfully adorable humming noise, sharply inhaling and exhaling. “How are you doing? I haven’t seen you since yesterday.”

“I’m,” I fumbled with my backpack, tightening my grip on one of the straps. “Ok. Sucks Pinkie couldn’t come today, but it’s what it is.”

“Yeah, I’m glad she’s just sick. I thought she was upset about something.” Fluttershy let out a relief sigh, followed by the sound of rapid tapping. “How do you feel about camping?”

“Camping? Like the woods, tents, campfires, that kind of camping?”

“I didn’t know there was any other kind.”

“I’ve never gone.”

“Oh you should! You get to see the animals in their natural habitat; they’re so happy there. Away from trees, loud cars, and judgmental people.” she went from timid to excited in a moment. I couldn’t but smile at how innocent she was. “Would you,” there was a heavy pause. “Like to go with me? I have a spot, and enough supplies for two people.”

“I-wait,” my words caught in my throat; realization hitting me like a last-minute forgotten assignment. “Are you asking me on a date?”

All noise on her side of the phone completely ceased; I sat down where I was, resting my back against a bookshelf.

“Yes.” she squeaked

Oh.

Chapter 5: Woodland Whispers

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Chapter 6: A House of Obsidian

The drive to Pinkie’s house felt like when I was in elementary school, waiting on one of the seats outside of the principal’s office while they explained how I fucked up to my dad.

Fluttershy wasn’t just not saying anything—she was doing everything in her power to avoid looking at me, like I was some object of her shame. Of course, if I said anything, I had no doubt she would wave it off as her needing to focus on the road. But then she’d have to lie to me, and I’d know she was lying to me because she’s awful at it.

I recognized the signs, though: The way she had to keep wiping her hands on her pants and putting them back on the wheel, the frequent swallowing, the rapid blinking. She was as nervous and freaked out as I was.

I could only imagine what was going through her mind right now. She must have regretted letting me kiss her, or even going on this date in the first place. It played over and over in my head, each time making me regret it a little more.

That dream didn’t help.

I’d never had a nightmare like that, Freud be damned. No teeth coming loose, falling from a building, drowning, or any of that ‘unconscious guilt’ stuff. Not until that dream with Pinkie. Did I really feel that bad about it? That she’d think I was on a date with Fluttershy just to get laid?

Was I?

No! No way. I made it clear when we talked about the idea of a poly relationship that it wasn’t a sex thing, and that I was more than patient enough to wait for them to think about what they wanted.

So why did I go on a date with Fluttershy? Why did I kiss her?

If I couldn’t answer that myself, what the hell am I supposed to say to Pinkie?

“We’re here.”

The cranking of Fluttershy setting her van into park right outside of the Pies' house jolted me out of my panicked ruminations. I tried to avoid looking at Fluttershy as much as possible, focusing instead on the house in front of us.

It somehow managed to appear more intimidating in the daylight. I missed a floor, apparently, as it was actually three stories instead of two, and its gray seemed to sap the color from everything around it, stopped only by a high fence around the yard. I felt like the main character in one of those black and white horror movies, approaching the mansion where something terrible is going to go wrong. The only thing missing was a dramatically thunderous storm.

“Eight.”

Fluttershy’s trembling voice dragged my eyes to hers; squinted and shaking. Her fingers interlaced, picking at the skin around her nails. I placed my hand on hers, forcing her to stop.

“That’s a bad habit to have, trust me; I used to bite my nails a lot.”

“Sorry.”

Her apology struck me right in the chest. I couldn’t bring myself to pull my hand away, especially not after she clutched it in her own so tightly. We sat there awkwardly as I waited for her to say something, unable to trust myself to console her.

“I don’t blame you.” She started after a deep breath. “Even if Pinkie somehow knows, and she's Pinkie, so it's plausible, I think we should just be upfront with her. She’s incredibly perceptive, and—no offense—you’re pretty awful at lying. Pinkie will notice pretty much immediately.”

“Ouch.” I nervously chuckled, hoping to cover that little stab of guilt I felt. “You’re right, though. I’ve never been particularly good at it. I’m more worried about you.” I squeezed her hand, ignoring how sweaty her palms were. “Are you alright? You’re so red you look like you’re about to pass out?”

“I am?” Her voice cracked, immediately followed by lowering her rear view mirror and peering into reflection. Fluttershy’s eyes bulged once she saw herself, serving only the purpose of making her more red. “Oh, I am! I look like a ripe tomato.”

She didn’t say anything else, just sitting in the car seat and breathing with her eyes closed. The blush faded bit by bit, brightening to a marshmallow white and then her usual yellow self. Her small hands receded from mine with a blot of disappointment, resting on her chest as she fidgeted in her seat to face me.

“I think we should be completely honest with.”

“I agree.” I concurred with an entirely unnecessary nodding of my head. “Honesty is the foundation of a relationship, I think. If we start lying about stuff now, this won’t work.”

“My thoughts exactly. It’s just—” She bit her lip, breaking eye contact with me and glancing at the house. “I know Pinkie isn’t the most mentally stable right now. She might not take it as well as she otherwise would, and might…” Fluttershy rubbed her legs together. “Decide that this relationship can’t work anyway. Pinkie might see it as a betrayal.”

My heart sunk so deeply into my stomach it was almost digested.

I wanted to dismiss that thought. Tell myself that Pinkie wouldn’t take it that seriously, or dismiss the three way relationship we’ve been discussing.

If it hadn’t been for how she was when I last saw her, I might have managed that.

“Do you really think she would?” I hated the way my voice felt; brittle and a pain just to hold together enough to string a sentence. I didn’t feel very ‘manly’ at the moment.

“I don’t know.” Her curtain of hair dropped over half of her face, leaving very little of her adorablness to be seen. “That’s what I’m scared of. If she does, I want you to know that—” she choked on something, or maybe she just sobbed. “We can’t be together. It would break Pinkie’s heart, even if she gave us her blessing I know it’d eat at her. I’m sorry.”

The tears at the corner of her eyes were agonizingly genuine.

I couldn’t hug her, no matter how much I told myself to. I’d make things worse, I’d make things awkward; just like I did at the tent. It hurt, it hurt a lot. It skewered me particularly potently because of how much I agreed. I offered this idea in the first place so no one would be hurt; as well as that’s gone.

If that’s really how Pinkie reacts, then she has every right to. And I’d only have myself to blame.

“You don’t have to be sorry. I get it.” I fumbled with the handle for the door, getting as close to the edge of my seat as I could. “I’m the one who fucked up.”

“Eight, you didn—”

I opened the door, stepping out right as Fluttershy reached out to me. Had I known she was going to, I would have let her. Instead, I had to hear her whimper. Seconds later, getting out of the car on her side.

I’m such a dick for that.

My attention was swiped by a car pulling into the driveway, parking beside the van rather quickly with a large ‘Pescolt’s Pizza’ on top of it. The driver jumped out with his delivery and rushed for the porch steps, a flash of spiky blue hair about to rush into the house. He halted when he spotted us.

“Fluttershy?” he said in a panicked half-whisper. “Aren’t you supposed to be at school?”

“Uhm,” She glanced at me, to which I only shrugged my shoulders. I didn’t even know this guy. “Aren’t you, Flash?”

"I'm in for a fate worse than truancy detention for being this late!"
He clutched the pizza to his chest, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “See, thing about that…”

Like satan himself was appraching him, Flash got back into his car; Yanking it out of park and pulling back out of the driveway so fast I got second hand whiplash. Without a doubt breaking the speedlimit, he managed to turn a corner at that speed and zoomed off somewhere.

“What a weirdo,” I blurted out.

“I didn’t know Flash delivered pizza now.” Fluttershy muttered out loud, placing a finger on her chin. “During school hours, too? Maybe Sunset knows—”

“Finally. I’ve been waiting for—” Limestone jerked the door open with the patience of a bull who just spotted crimson. Staring at the spot where Flash’s car had just been, then to us as the faux-smile on her face faltered into a scowl. “Oh, it’s you again. And Butterface. I guess my sausage pizza is going to be even more late now. Fan-fucking-tastic.”

She kicked the ground, leaving the door open and backing away from it. I saw her sit back down on the couch, grabbing a book on the coffee table and leaving the TV on to play static noise. Fluttershy cautiously entered, easing herself into it like she expected a ghost to hop out at any moment.

If the mysterious figure lurking around the corner last time I was here is real, that might just be what it is. The spirit of the last person who tried to sleep with Pinkie.

Fluttershy leaned over to me, whispering so quietly only my attuned ears could make out what she was saying. “Does she just... listen to static and read books all day?”

In all honesty, I'd assumed she did that just to fuck with people who came over. If she just does it normally, that’s way worse. I made that shruggy, dunno-y noise, but felt myself freeze up when Limestone speared me with her eyes.

“Are you two just going to stand there eyefucking each other, or go see Pinkie? I assume that's why she stayed in today when she’s not sick and why you two are here in the first place.” She gestured at the stairs, where that shady figure was lurking. This time, I waved slightly to try and elicit a response, but she disappeared behind the stairs. Her footsteps were completely silent, which only added to the terrifying atmosphere.

“Yes ma’m. I’—”

“Don’t call me ma’m.”

“Sorry. Sorry.”

Fluttershy grabbed me by the forearm, dragging me along with a lot more strength than I thought she had. I stumbled a bit at first, getting my balance before I found myself becoming quite familiar with the pie family floor.

“That’s what Limestone’s like?” Fluttershy asked, more to herself than me. As soon as we reached the top of the stairs, she let go of me and started wringing her wrist. “I thought she’d be distant like Maud, not like that."

“You—” I peeked over my shoulder, double checking that Limestone hadn’t silently made her way up the stairs once we started talking about her. “You haven't met her before?”

“No, just Maud when we had a sleepover. Who, while a little odd, was really sweet when she tried.” A smirk creeped its way on Fluttershy’s face, overshadowed by a shiver that riveted her entire body. “Limestone,” She wrapped her arms around herself, squeezing until she stopped shaking. “Reminds me of a friend of mine when she wasn’t at her best. In the worst way.”

She used a nearby wall for support, shrinking into the blanket of her hair and curling into her clothes as much as she feasibly could. With all the green she was wearing, it kind of reminded me of a turtle.

“Limestone cares about Pinkie.” I patted her shoulder, tapping it twice in the ‘there, there’ fashion, but all it did was make her tense up more. “She just doesn't know any other way to show it.”

No noise broke the silence, other than Fluttershy’s hushed breathing. My eyes wandered over the rest of the hall, giving it a second look now that there wasn’t some mysterious girl around the corner that may or may not be a threat.

There were quite a few doors in the hallway; at least four others that I could see. Assuming one was the bathroom, the other three must have been the rooms they stayed. The parents likely shared one, so did that mean that the sisters were sharing a room? At least two of them had to be, if I can math.

“Fluttershy?” Pinkie’s muffled voice came from the other side of the door, until she opened it. Standing in the doorway with the same balloon pajamas I saw her in before. Though now seeming much brighter, along with Pinkie as a whole.

I didn’t realize how much I’d miss that poofy hairs of hers until seeing it again.

“Are you having a panic attack in my hallway?”

“N—uh, no.” Fluttershy’s breathe hitched in her throat, which she tried to play off as a cough. “I’m just… surprised by your sister.”

“Who? Limestone? Pft, why?” Pinkie approached Fluttershy, giving her a side hug as she guided her to her room. “She’s a big softie! Like a bear who hasn’t figured out how to hug without her claws. Limey’s just protective, I promise.”

I actually had to cover my eyes at how bright Pinkie’s room was. All the blinds were open as well as her windows, which let fresh air waft in and warm the room. There were also strips of LED lights that lined the walls and corners of her room, but they weren’t on at the moment.

“Are you sure? She acted like she really didn’t want us to be here.”

“Did she mention anything about her pizza being late?” Pinkie sat on her bed, patting the spot beside her and gesturing at Fluttershy.

“Yeah, she did.” Fluttershy obliged, relaxing almost immediately as sitting down. Easing up and just relaxing into the bed as her eyes widened. “Wow. This is really comfortable.”

“Right? It’s memory foam; does wonders for your back.” As if to display, Pinkie fell back-first onto her bed. Sinking into it and imprinting the shape of her upper body into the mattress, her hair splaying above her like a trail of paint as she let out a pure giggle.

At that moment, I concentrated more on Pinkie’s face than I think I ever have. How bright her face was, whether or not she was smiling. The slight rosiness to her cheeks, brought about by the perfect blueness of her eyes that contrasted amazingly with the pink that perforated every inch of her appearance.

Those dimples of hers were adorable. Always there when she smiled, and always there when she tried to but couldn’t quite manage. Not a blemish on her skin, not a fault in her face. Pinkie was incredibly pretty.

Why hadn’t I ever noticed that before?

“Anyways. Yeah, she’s probably just hangry then. She goes to the gym at least once a day, and she’s really into calorie hour, so she gets a little irritable if the pizza is late for whatever reason. I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

I wandered over to a purple beanbag, lacking in any other seat and not nearly bold enough to try squeezing on the bed with Pinkie and Fluttershy. Now that I think about it, I don’t believe I’ve ever actually sat in a beanbag chair.

With a bit of hesitance, I sank into it. Finding my body was quickly submerging into it as the beanbag swallowed my limbs, sparing my head from its consuming comfort.

I was inching towards closing my eyes, before I spotted something outside of Pinkie’s window. That Flash guy parked behind Fluttershy’s van again, rushing out of his car so quickly he left the door open; nearly dropping the pizza at least three times before making it to the actual house.

I made out Limestone opening the house door, and the tips of Flash’s spiky hair on the edges of the window. Then a muffled gasp as he was yanked in and the door shutting. Thumping as Limestone walked somewhere, and then nothing.

I’m not even sure if he brought in the pizza.

“So, P-Pinkie,” Fluttershy started stuttering again. I was starting to recognize that as a bad sign. “What did you call us here for?”

That beautiful beam of hers collapsed in on itself.

“Oh.” She left her lips in an ‘o’ shape, staring at the ceiling for seemingly no reason. That nigh-blank expression was so familiar; it came up every time I asked her something she didn’t immediately have the answer to.

Her eyes drifted to me, an emotion behind it I couldn’t discern. It was almost scary.

“Did you tell her anything about that night?”

I frowned, searching through the many empty folders of my brain until I realized what she was talking about.

“Vaguely.” I glimpsed at Fluttershy, who didn’t appear as confused as I would have thought. “Just how I fucked up, mostly.”

“You didn’t ‘fuck up’, goofus.” Despite how chuckle worthy ‘goofus’ was, the unchracteristic seriousness in her voice prevented me from making any noise but a muffled gulp. “I’m usually inconsolable like that; it’s why my sisters just leave me alone when I get like that. You tried, and you made me feel better. For a little while, at least.” She murmured the last part, her eyes half-lidded before snapping open again and pointing at me. “If I hear you saying you ‘fucked up’ one more time, I’m nat twentying your ass. I mean it!”

“Yes, ma’m.”

“That’s right.” Pinkie nodded her head. Turning on her bed and crossing her legs as she faced Fluttershy. “The other night when you asked Eight to check on me because you thought something was wrong…” Pinkie’s lips quivered as she trailed off, a single curl of her hair going limp and placing itself in the center of her face. “You were right. I asked Eight not to tell you because I didn’t want you to worry anymore. The truth is…”

Any trepidation or anxiety had completely dissipated from Fluttershy. She lifted her head, directing any half-attention she had to me entirely on Pinkie. Fluttershy mirrored some of Pinkie’s body language, crossing her legs and tensing up. Although, she didn’t hide behind her hair or anything. Leaning forward with that patient smile of hers.

“I get depressed. Sometimes there’s a reason, sometimes there’s not one; it’s really frustrating. I tell everyone I’m sick, and I take the day off from parties and school, but I’m a liar. I’m just,” Pinkie closed her eyes, placing both her hands on her chest and taking a drawn out breath. “Sad. Maybe I’m sad all the time and it gets too much, I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“No, no. Don’t apologize. It’s ok.” Fluttershy wrapped her arms around Pinkie, wrapping her in a well-needed hug. Pinkie didn’t say anything, accepting it with her entire body as she tightly returned the embrace. “I know it's hard. I’m so glad you trust me enough to tell me.”

“It’s not trust exactly. Well, it is, but, uhm.” The hug ended as Pinkie pulled back, their hair tangling together in a pink bundle that they quickly unfurled. “I want this relationship to work. That’ll never happen if we aren’t upfront with each other about everything; including mental health. I’ll tell you and Eight when it’s about to get bad. Just please don’t tell the others.”

She interlaced her fingers, clasping her hands together and placed it against her chest.

“They’ll just do the same thing my sisters tried to. I don’t want to deal with that again. I don’t—” Pinkie squeezed her eyes shut, digging deeper into her bed. “I can’t go through that again.”

Fluttershy hung her head, her jaw clenching as held on to whatever she was considering saying. She placed her hands on her knees, squeezing them until they were pale. We made eye contact, and for a second I’m certain we had the same thought.

We needed to tell Pinkie.

“Ok, I won’t. But, Pinkie,” Fluttershy’s elbows bent as she shrinked away from Pinkie, moving dangerously close to the edge. “T—there’s something I—we need to tell you, then.”

“Oh?” Pinkie tilted her head, pupils constricting as she glanced at me with a raised eyebrow. “What is it?”

“Eight and I, we, well.” She begged me with her eyes, making a droning noise before stopping herself. Fluttershy ran her hands up the sides of her face, rubbing her temples and muttering something under her breath before lightly slapping her cheeks. Seemingly revigorated. “I talked to Rarity, and she said the best thing I can do is ask Eight on a date and see if I like him romantically before deciding if I want to be in a three relationship with him and she also mentioned its the best way to get to know someone so I took him to my favorite camping spot and—”

“Wait, you told Rarity abou—”

“We kissed.”

Fluttershy finished with an out of breath voice, having said everything so fast I could barely make it out.

“T us.” Pinkie finished her sentence in slow motion, her lips pursed as she just sat there. I creaked forward in the beanbag chair, wringing my wrist and trying to ignore the mind-breaking numbness that stretched to my face. My heart using my chest as a trampoline as it bounced up into my throat.

I couldn’t read her. Well, not like I ever really could; it’s Pinkie. This time around, even though I really wanted to, I had no idea what was on her mind. Her eyes were unfocused, with no reaction at all. Pinkie’s head could be empty for all I know.

“Huh.”

“Huh?” fluttershy repeated with a voice crack.

“Yeah, ‘huh’. Like, I sorta expected you’d go to Rarity about advice on this stuff and she’d tell you that because it's pretty good advice. I just didn’t, hmmmm.” She wrapped her hands around her ankles, craning back and slightly lifting her legs. “Expect it so soon. I guess that’s my bad.”

“You’re,” Fluttershy tucked her hair behind her, now sharply inhaling through her nose. “Not upset that we went on a date behind your back?”

“Behind my back? What, did you think you needed my permission?” Her tone stood somewhere between rhetorical and serious. “That’s not the kind of relationship I want this to be, Fluttershy. You don’t need my say so everytime you and Eight want to go somewhere together and just vibe. Same thing if I wanna do something with him. Do you want me to check in with you everytime we talk to each other in the hallway?”

“Well,” She looked away, freezing under Pinkie’s words as she slouched. “No. I guess not.”

“Then there’s no problem.” Pinkie reached forward with her right hand, to which Fluttershy scrunched her face like she’d sucked on the worlds most sour lemon. Only for Pinkie to tap her on the nose. Fluttershy blinked rapidly, a flush coming onto her face. “The kiss is whatever. You guys have been friends for a while, right? Then you’re already comfortable with each other, and should progress faster than if you were strangers who just got into a relationship. I’m still a little surprised you’ve kissed already, but it’s not like I don’t get it. Seeing your friend suddenly in a romantic context can change a lot.”

I rest an elbow on my knee, supporting my head with the palm of my hand. I stared at the two on the bed, watching them communicate almost entirely through body language. When Pinkie and I would have our occasional debates in the library, I always left with an adjusted view on whatever we discussed that day.

Fortunately, that hasn’t really changed.

I didn’t see Fluttershy or Pinkie in a romantic light until they both confessed, as much as that sounds like a generic soap opera. I guess, in retrospect, the same features that I was noticing now were always there.

They just didn’t matter until now.

“I guess that makes sense.”

I stood up from the beanbag, making an awkward trek to the bed. Pinkie smiled at me as soon as started, scooting over the bed and patting the spot she was just sitting at. Placing herself in between Fluttershy and I, leaving us just sorta staring at each other.

Maybe I should have just stayed on the beanbag.

“A little. It sounds like something Rarity said once to me, actually. It’s just,” She closed her eyes, placing her hand on mine. I don’t think she did it intentionally, as the moment Pinkie noticed Fluttershy touch my hand Fluttershy gasped, yanking it back and holding it to her chest.

There was a flicker of confusion on Pinkie’s face, staring at Fluttershy’s hand and then dragging her leer to me. She didn’t seem hurt or even bothered by it. Just uncertain.

“I feel like I still should have talked to you about it. Especially when you weren’t feeling well. Not having to is fine; I just can’t shake this feeling that I should have. I’ll,” She gripped her right shoulder with her opposing arm, rapping her fingers against it to a silent tune. “Try to get over it.”

“Hmmm,” Pinkie hummed, puckering her lips are her eyebrows pressed together into a fine line. “Well, if you reallllyyy want to make it up to me, you can go on a date with me.”

“What.”

“What?”

“What? Bad idea?” She coined, placing a finger on her lips and sticking her tongue out. “Seriously, though, I think that’s a good idea. I was going to suggest it at some point, anyway.”

“Pinkie, I thought you weren’t into Fluttershy like that?”

“I’m not, honest!” Pinkie put up her hands. “Thing is, I’m not completely against it, either. I mean look at her—” She gestured to Fluttershy, who got more red in the fact at the attention. “She’s gorgeous! I would bathe in blood to be that beautiful. Plus, she’s the kindest person I’ve ever met; and we barely get to hang out that much by ourselves. So why not?”

I opened my mouth to fire some retort, realizing anything I said would drop me right into a verbal trap. If I denied anything Pinkie said, then that would include the compliments. If I agreed with Pinkie, and the idea of going on a date with Pinkie made Fluttershy uncomfortable, agreeing wouldn’t have helped.

Once again, I was stuck in a position where my brain—which is made of stupid—failed to come up with anything useful.

Why do I even try?

“Then, uhm, why does it need to be a date? C-can’t we just,” Fluttershy’s gaze bounced from place to place, her hands jerking as she fumbled with her clothes. “Hang out like we normally would?”

“Is that what you and Eight did? Just hang out?”

“Well, no.”

Pinkie flinched, biting the inside of her cheek as she placed a consoling hand on the end of Fluttershy’s knees.

“I’m sorry, that came out more mean than I meant. Of course we could just hang out; it’s only a date if you make it one after all. Maybe it was a bad suggestion.”

Pinkie rubbed the back of her neck as the storm of trepid silence crept up on us. I had this urge to duck under the blanket of the bed that wasn’t even mine. Instead, I reached into my pocket and tapped my phone, spotting the ‘low battery’ warning and the last sparks of electricity it had in it.

“Can I choose where?”

“Sure!” The enthusuasm was as forced as it was loud, dripping with the attempt to scare away the tension. “And the time. I’m good whenever. I’ve got enough sick days stacked up to take one off whenever I need to.”

Fluttershy cupped her hands around her mouth, steadily breathing into it. Each breathe ws a little more controlled, until she managed to say something that wasn’t a repetitive mess.

“Ok. Then, how about tomorrow at the movies after school?”

“The movies?” Pinkie paused, thinking for a moment. “I wouldn’t have guessed that’d be your pick for a first date.”

“Well, Rarity told me once tha—”

With the last scream of a dying battery, the alarm on my phone went off. I fumbled to get it out again fast enough to turn it off, only for it to die the second I reached the ‘silent’ icon. I stayed staring at the dead device in my hand, too riddled with guilt to look up.

“Uh,” I murmured, rubbing the back of my head. “Sorry. That was for first period. I usually nap after completing the first assignment there, but the bell doesn’t usually wake me up for some reason so I need something to or I’ll end up being late.”

“It’s only the end of first period?” Pinkie raised her arm, checking a watch on her wrist that wasn’t there. “Huh, felt like it’s been longer than that. We’re not that far away from school; we can still make it to second period if you guys want.”

“I do, actually. It’s either that or go home. And I—” Fluttershy tried to hide her shudder, standing off the bed with her back facing me and stretching. “Don’t really want to go home right now.”

Pinkie’s eyes were fixed on Fluttershy’s back, half-scowling as her pupils glanced to me. Then, before I knew it, she was smiling again.

“Sure. You came here in the van, right? We can carpool!” she cartwheeled off the bed, landing on her feet with ease and placing her hands firmly on her hips. “Plus, Maud’s got the car right now so I can’t get there otherwise. You got room is there a bunch of camping stuff in the back?”

“Nah, all the camping stuff is in Fluttershy’s backpack.” I got off the bed, finding the floor more uncomfortable than I did before now that I knew the softness of Pinkie’s bed. “You can take shotgun; it’s only fair since I got it all the way here.” I opened the door, gesturing with my free hand for them to go ahead. “Ladies first.”

“Oh, what a gentlemen.” Pinkie overexaggerated, gently tapping me on the face with her hand as she exited her bedroom. Flicking the lightswitch on her way out.

“Thanks, Eight.” Fluttershy whispered, standing in the doorway beside without saying anything for a few seconds. Shaking her head and muttering something so quiet even I couldn’t make it out.

“It’s no problem. My dad taught me manners if nothing else.”

As soon as the door was closed, the lack of any noise was unsettling. I peered into the corner to my right, half expecting that strange figure to be watching again. It wasn’t, of course. Despite that, I couldn’t figure out what was so offputing.

Once we got down to the living room, I realized it was the complete lack of static from the tv.

“Huh, that’s weird.” Pinkie walked up to the coffee table Limestone had her feet on earlier, picking up the remote and tossing it next to the half-opened book on the couch. “Limey’s already been the the gym today. She doesn’t usually leave unless it’s important. Father called her about something maybe?”

There was a shuffling noise from the room next door, like something being shifted around. For a second, I questioned if I’d actually heard it. Pinkie stopped her out-loud pondering raising an eyebrow as she made her way to the room it came from.

Fluttershy and I exchanged a look as we tentatively followed.

“Marble?”

The room was apparently a kitchen, and the noise was the sound of someone opening the pizza box. Inside was, what I could only presume, Pinkie’s sister; and the figure that’d been hiding in the corners of my attention. Thin as a rail, and hair like a stretched out, gray blanket hanging on mostly one side of her face. Wearing a matching sweater and baggy pants, she stood hunched over the box, wolfing down a slice of sausage pizza.

“Uh, this…”I could hardly make out what she was saying. If I wasn’t seeing her lips move with a slice of pizza in her hands, I would have genuinely thought it was the wind. “Limestone won’t—”

She made some weird noise with her throat, that I’m pretty sure was supposed to be her swallowing and then clearing her throat. Marble took a sip from a clear cup with green liquid in it on the counter, placing the slice back in the box beside the delivery bag it came from and her hands on her lap as she tried to hide herself behind an invisible wall.

“This happens a lot.”

Chapter One: Every Story Starts With A Choice.

Author's Note

Yahallo! This is, once again, another one of my passion projects. My brain wouldn't stop yelling at me to write at least one chapter of this, so I did. Whether this goes anywhere or if I decide to write more for it, I truly could not tell you. Please tell me if you spot any errors, feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments, and enjoy!

Chapter One: Every Story Starts With A Choice.

School is an obligation.

At first, that sounds obvious. Of course school is an obligation. Legally, parents have to take their children to school to get an education. Without graduating high school, it becomes very difficult to get a job and turn into a functioning member of society. Those who don’t graduate usually end up committing crimes just to get by.

Although, that’s an entirely different can of worms to get into, and I’d honestly rather not waste my two brain cells thinking about a topic I can realistically do nothing about.

But more what I'm talking about is the social aspect of high school. School is just as much about socializing as it is providing a proper education. Starting from elementary school, we’re encouraged to make friends with other people. Education isn’t nearly as much a priority then, and we’re expected to make our own little friend groups.

In middle school, the pressure to be more extroverted is still there, but so is the expectation to start caring about your education. It’s also when people start dating more and actually taking their relationships seriously. Most of the time, you’re seen as a weirdo if you aren’t dating someone. And if you reject a girl, and she cries or gets upset about it, you’re seen as a jerk. Depending on who your friends are, you might even be assumed gay.

Sure, I’ve dated a couple of times, but never because I particularly wanted to date. I didn’t dislike the girls, either—just didn’t romantically feel anything.

When I got to high school, I realized how superficial a lot of the people there were. The pressure to get educated was even stronger, and some took it really seriously. Then we’re told we should plan ahead and know what to do for our career, go to college, and that nothing we do in high school is going to pass in college. All the while, they say we’re going to miss our high school days, and that we should enjoy our youth while we can and not think too much about things.

Most friendships existed because they were convenient—you were in the same class, or had the same friends, or shared a lunch period. You likely didn’t even talk outside school. What you talked about was typically nothing with any depth—you were just talking to pass the time. If you were lucky, maybe you would go to the same college or place of work. Keeping in touch otherwise would probably be hard, and sometimes even make you wonder if there was anything to that friendship in the first place.

Education becomes an obligation.

Friendships become an obligation.

School is an obligation.

Of course, that didn't mean I wanted to be a loner, sitting in the back of the class with a scowl. Humans are social creatures, and I didn’t hate them like most people seemed to. I had a friend group I hung out with. I was just aware that our relationships weren't genuine—we hung out with each other because we felt obligated to.

Pinkie Pie wasn’t like that.

When I'd first moved here, during my senior year of all times, she went out of her way to show me around the school and where my classes were. Not out of any obligation, but simply because she wanted to. She was sincerely nice, if a bit silly.

I expected to never really see her again after that. When I went to the library to study near the end of the day like I used to at my previous schools, she was there, waving bye to some girl who looked like she dyed her hair with mustard and ketchup. I still remember her beaming when she spotted me and literally sliding into the chair beside me.

After that, it became a kind of tradition. I always thought that studying was something that should be done at school, since that's what school is for. At home, I did my homework and chilled, not plagued by any obligations, not keeping up a façade with a friend group I didn't really know; just pure introvert vibes.

Pinkie was my first study buddy. She’s a lot smarter than her wacky personality would suggest. Any topic I thought I understood well, she did better. Even more surprising, she was fantastic at articulating her thoughts, sometimes to a scary degree.

Eventually, we started talking about topics I actually cared about. She or I would shift the topic to something like movies or video games or current events. There was no end to her vast well of knowledge when it came to just about anything. If it existed, she knew about it. Fortunately, if I didn’t, she was always willing to move it back to something I was comfortable with. Talking with her became genuinely enjoyable, one of the two things I looked forward to every week.

This had lasted my entire time at Canterlot High so far. I was honestly terrified I’d run out of things to say at some point, but that had never been an issue with her. Although we’re already in the second half of the school year, and neither of us have missed a day, I’d never felt once that we were anywhere near out of topics.

Today’s subject was metaphors.

“So, even though that’s not how it's used, it’s a double negative. Behind your back actually means in front of you. Isn’t that funny? Whoever made it must have not thought it through, but it caught on anyway!” Her voice carried a contagious pep, no matter what she was talking about. Even with the most mind-numbingly dull things to talk about it, she’d have me enthralled with her thoughts on them. On multiple occasions, I'd suggested she become a teacher or something with how entertaining her explanations could be. Every time, though, she said she already wanted to be a clown.

I couldn’t help but think that was a waste, not that I’d ever say it. If she loved throwing parties and making others smile that way, who was I to judge what she did with her life?

“Well, metaphors are just something we use to help understand abstract stuff. They don’t have to make sense on a grammatical or literal level, as long as people get what they mean. Like, for example,” I paused as I closed the book on the table in front of us that I hadn’t looked at for the past hour and casually slipped it into my backpack that hung off the chair. “Take the phrase ‘shooting fish in a barrel’. It’s used to brag that something's easy for you, but who the hell would go around about bragging how easy it is to shoot fish in a stationary barrel? Either it was completely made up, or somebody actually bragged about it and then the people who heard it kept using it as some kind of inside joke. Then it just…evolved into an actual metaphor.”

“Hmm, I never thought of that. It makes sense, though. I wonder if in philosophy they—” her entire body vibrated as her phone dinged. Without saying a word, she brought up one finger and pulled out her phone to check who had messaged her.

“Ohh… that’s nasphoo,” she whispered under her breath while raising one eyebrow.

I decided against asking what 'nasphoo' meant. Besides, it's rude to talk to someone while they’re trying to read something.

“What!” Pinkie exclaimed in a hush tone. “Sunny is dating Wally now? O-M-G, what should their ship name be? Wunny? No, that’s not very good. What about—”

For a moment, she was completely silent and still. I could count the number of times I’d seen her like that on one hand, which dredged up a blot of concern. Then, just as abruptly, she jumped out of her chair and squealed with her mouth closed. Eyes wide and face strained out of glee and visible effort to remain quiet in the library, even though there was no one here but Cheerilee, the librarian. Judging from the large headphones on her ears and the fact that she was asleep, she was doing her absolute best to pretend the outside world didn’t exist.

“Sunflower! That’s perfect! Oh, I’ve got to throw a party about this. Get a banner with the words ‘Congratulations Sunflower’ on it. Have red and green balloons, maybe? Nah, that would make it seem like a Christmas thing. I can make yellow and green work.”

“I haven’t heard you this excited since we discussed the validity of Destial. Have you been trying to get these two together for very long? I know you like to play matchmaker sometimes, but I’ve never heard of you actually getting two people to date.”

“Actually, no. I had nothing to do with this one,” she responded as she turned off her phone and slipped it back into her skirt pocket, pointing an accusing finger at me. “And don’t question my matchmaking abilities, mister! Natural romance takes time and effort and should never be forced. I just…put two people who don’t realize they liked each other yet into situations where they’ll realize it. It’s an art!”

“Mhm, I believe you. Does your boyfriend agree with your logic?”

Rarely do I see Pinkie genuinely confused. Seeing her lips pressed together and eyebrows furrow was a sight that cued more concern than her being completely silent.

“Wait, do you think I have a boyfriend? Hah!” she guffawed, her attempts to be quiet flying out the window. “Please, on my salary? And my schedule? I’ve thought about it, sure, but actually being able to find someone I can work it out with? Not a priority, not until clown college. At least there, I know I can find someone with the same sense of humor as me.”

Out of all the things she’d ever said, that was what shocked me the most. From the moment I'd met her, I'd just assumed she had one with how much of a social butterfly she was. I guess that made me an ass for assuming like that.

“Huh.”

“What, did you think that just because I’m friends with a bunch of people, that I have a boyfriend? Wow, I’m sure your girlfriend appreciates your guessing.”

Now it was my turn to be confused. “Uhm, what?” I leaned forward into my hand, squinting. “Pinkie, I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, I haven’t had a girlfriend since, like, my freshmen year, I think. I haven’t dated since.”

Her hands were gripping the ends of the table, on the edge of her seat like I was about to reveal who killed the butler in a murder mystery. “But I was told…” she plopped back down in her chair, awkwardly fidgeting her fingers and glancing to the side. “I know the rumor mill isn’t always reliable, but Dinky isn’t usually…” She trailed off as she looked back at me, her confusion rapidly replaced with interest. “Why not?”

“Just never found the right person, I guess. Dating is cool and all, but I don’t want to date just to date, you know? I want to be with someone I actually feel a genuine connection with, not just someone I put up with because I want to sleep with them or something.”

“Wow. That’s more of a college mindset, not a high school one. Most teenagers don’t put that much thought into it,” she noted as she mimicked my position, resting her head on her hand. “I more meant that since you have a genius matchmaker like me, why not just ask? I know you well enough to write a D&D character sheet of you. Finding a partner would be as challenging as making a stealth check as a rogue with expertise and advantage.”

Considering I only know what I do about D&D from listening to a singular podcast about it, I only just got the gist of what she was saying. Not the first time she referred to something I didn’t entirely understand, and not the last.

That’s kind of just Pinkie, though.

“Pfft, so? What if I did ask for a girlfriend? Or boyfriend, you don’t know.”

“Oh, I know. I always know. I have, like, a sexuality radar,” she joked while twirling her hair. “Either way, then you would have a girlfriend.”

I stared at her for a moment, expecting her to laugh like she usually does after a joke. Which didn’t come. I like to believe after interacting with her as much as I have, I can tell when she is joking. This time, she’s not.

“Unless you have a girl as awesome as you in mind, I don’t think it’ll work out.” I said somewhat sardonically, trying to deflect and think of a way to shift the topic to something else.

“Do you want it to be me?”

I completely froze.

My heart skipping a beat. Anything else in the library might as well not have existed, like Cheerilee wished. I stared at Pinkie wide-eyed, some part of me expecting her to crack a grin or say ‘gotcha’ or something.

Instead, she held a grim expression. No smiling, no joy practically radiating off of her, just the leftover intensity. She was waiting for my response, hanging on whatever words I said next.

Problem was, even I didn’t know what those would be.

“Pinkie,” I cautiously said, crossing my arms as my body stiffened. “Do you…want to date me?”

She didn’t respond with words, at first, glancing to the side like she didn’t want to make eye contact. “I’ve thought about it a time or two. I’m not against it. There are way worse options. You could take this as a sort of confession, if you want.”

I could say with unwavering confidence that this was the first time something she’d said had left me speechless. Bewildered me or changed my perspective on things, yes, but not speechless.

“Pinkie, I…”

“You don’t have to answer it now if you don’t want to.” She fidgeted in the chair. “I know if something goes wrong in a relationship, it’s super hard to go back to just being friends. If you don’t want to risk it, or just aren’t interested in me, I get it.”

The solemnity in her voice was beyond uncharacteristic of her, and so real it actually hurt. Did she have feelings for me, or did she just like me enough as a person that she really just wouldn’t mind dating me? The thought of dating her never even crossed my mind, though, that might be attributable to me thinking she had a boyfriend this entire time.

But now that I knew it was possible, all that thought I hadn't put into it before was coming back to bite me. I couldn’t exactly concentrate with her right in front of me, either. “I’d have to think about it, Pinkie. This isn’t something I can just answer on the spot.”

I waited in utter suspense as she looked at me, sighing with relief when she gave me the smallest of reassuring smirks.

“That’s fine. It’s Friday. You’re going to the shelter today, right?”

I nodded. I would have been impressed since I only told her that once, but this was Pinkie and her memory was terrifyingly good at times.

“Then I think we should call it a day. I’ve got to order a custom banner from my dealer and set up this party. Take all the time you need. The weekend, the rest of the month, whatever. Like I said before; romance should be natural and not forced.”

There was a hint of the energy she always had in her voice, but it wasn’t entirely there. I nodded again, like a moron who couldn’t think of a proper response, getting to my feet and slinging the backpack over my shoulder.

“See ya Monday, then.” I waved to her as I left.

“See ya.”

I now had plans for the weekend: ruminating.

_________________________

I like animals.

Like, a lot.

Since I often had more free time than I knew what to do with, I'd decided to dedicate my Fridays to the animal shelter. Not always the cleanest or most fun job, but it needs to be done and I don’t mind doing it.

As I waited for the crosswalk sign to turn green, I took a gander at my reflection in a passing window. I really should have taken better care of my hair. I usually styled it at the beginning of the week, then proceeded to let it do whatever until the beginning of the next week. Right now, it’s a bit wavy and sticks out in some places, while I preferred if it were slicked back and held together properly. The color always bothered me a bit—my dad's hair was as black as the night, while my hair was as blonde as the sun was bright.

I must have gotten it from my mom, but my dad doesn’t have any pictures of her around, so I can’t say for sure.

It paired well with my green eyes, at least, which were pretty much my only feature that stuck out. Nothing about the rest of my body was particularly prominent, except for my clothes. It was an open secret that I was a total music nerd. I didn’t talk about it often, since I hadn't found anyone other than Pinkie who was as passionate about music as I am, but I always wore some clothing that had a band or album name on it.

Like, right now, I’m wearing a dark black shirt with the lead singer of ‘In This Moment’ on it. She has easily the best female voice in heavy metal. The rest of my clothes weren’t anything conspicuous, just your typical jeans and sneakers.

As my mind drifted to music, it just as quickly moved back to Pinkie. I restarted my weekly trip to the vet, trying to figure out what I was going to do. Every single time I’d ever dated someone, they'd always asked me. The idea of dating them had never crossed my mind beforehand. We were friends, then we were partners, then we were nothing.

While that’s pretty much exactly what happened with Pinkie, I actually did like her. I don’t want to date her out of any sense of obligation. Like she said, it would be hard to be friends again afterwards. I really don’t want to mess things up with her and lose our friendship, but can things really go back to normal even now? Now that we’re aware of both of our relationship status, isn’t it kind of inevitable that one of us would develop feelings for the other?

My only points of reference for relationships were the surface-level ones people had had at school, as well as whatever melodramatic soap opera was big at the time. Neither were reliable.

In all likelihood, I’d have been conflicted about this all weekend and forced to make a choice I wasn't certain about just because I felt obligated to make one, which was the last thing I wanted to do.

I guess that makes it fortunate that this had happened today, when I’d be talking to the only person whose advice I take straight to heart.

I mentioned earlier that there were two things I looked forward to every week, Pinkie being one of them. The other was the animal shelter; not just because I like animals, but because of the living embodiment of nature that worked there.

Fluttershy was there when I started, and she’ll probably still be there when we graduate. She told me that she goes to the shelter every day after school if she can, and I believe her wholeheartedly. A lot of people have said that they’re good with animals, but Fluttershy is in her own tier. I’ve seen the most aggressive dogs, that I was convinced had rabies or something, turn into puppies in her presence.

It took quite a while before she warmed up to me. She was shy, as her name might suggest. For weeks, she barely talked, just glancing at me once or twice. One of my phases came in handy when I mentioned a random animal fact in her presence, something I only knew from binging videos about them in middle school.

We’ve been friends since.

This, too, was a genuine friendship. I say this because she could have easily kept quiet like she wanted and I wouldn’t have blamed her one bit. However, the second she knew I was interested in animals beyond just volunteering at the shelter, she became almost as chatty as Pinkie. Her shyness was gone, and she warmed up to me.

I can’t say for sure how it started, but I eventually started asking her for advice. I didn’t even realize until I did that I never did that with Pinkie. It wasn’t that I didn’t respect Pinkie’s opinion or way of thinking. It’s more like…Pinkie was someone you’d meet at a debate. She would turn even the simplest of questions or statements into a story, giving her own two cents and her thoughts and whatever I was asking advice on, eventually downhilling it into the advice I asked for in the first place.

On the other hand, Fluttershy was the best listener I’d ever met. With her nodding, noises of agreement, and pleasant smile, you'd think she was just acting, but her advice proved otherwise—she'd actually pay attention to every word, no matter how long I ranted for. The advice she gave was completely pure, occasionally using animals to make her point. She'd never make it about herself or turn it into a story or anything but give the advice I asked for.

I don’t think I could ever put into words how grateful I am for that.

“Oh, good evening, Eight! You’re a little late, I was afraid you wouldn’t show up. Fido has been missing you.”

I smiled as Fido ran up to me, a pitbull that many people were afraid of. In reality, he's the biggest sweetheart I’ve ever met. When I or Fluttershy show him affection, he’s as happy as any other dog.

“Yeah, I got caught up with a friend. Sorry.” I muttered as I pet him, looking around the back area of the shelter. “I guess we’re on dog duty today, huh? That’s fine.”

“Mhm.” Fluttershy responded as she giggled, spraying the hose in her hands at the dogs as they tried to bite into water. “How has your week been?”

“Fine, mostly. Well, until today that is. I ha—” I was cut off by a very familiar, and very spoiled, rabbit who jumped out of the yellow backpack she carried and right up to me. Extending his hands and demanding his treat that he knows I have. “And a hello to you, too, Angel.”

I reached into my backpack and pulled out a package of baby carrots I got at lunch. He took them out of my hands and immediately began eating them. He made some kind of chirping noise that I was going to choose to believe was a very perturbed "thank you."

You might think a rabbit surrounded by dogs wouldn’t have a moment to breathe, and you would be right—at first. However, whether out of fear or respect, most of the animals didn’t bother Angel, and he didn’t bother them.

“I’m sorry about him. You’re just usually so…” She pressed her lips together as she tried to find the right word. “Punctual. When things don’t go to schedule, he gets really irritated. You really shouldn’t be giving him those carrots in the first place. Angel expects consistency, and doesn’t like it when it isn’t given to him. Rabbits are really high maintenance, you know.”

“Nah, it’s alright.” I crouched down and pet him. Like the brat he is, he scowled at me and growled, but didn’t stop me. “We have a mutual understanding: I give him carrots from lunch, and he lets me pet him sometimes. It’s an equivalent exchange.”

“If you say so.” Fluttershy said as she pulled a bucket over. Balancing the hose on it to where the water is shooting straight at the dogs. “I know I’ve said it a bunch of times already, but thank you again for watching him while I was at Camp. Angel gets lonely easily, whether he admits it or not.”

He made an angry chirping noise at her. Whatever he said made her recoil like she’d been physically struck. “I don’t…well,” she receded a bit behind her long, straight hair. “I do sometimes, but I can deal with it.”

She picked him up and put him back in her backpack, the light blush on her face fading as she turned back to me. “You were saying about your day? It sounded like something went wrong. I’m here to listen, if you don’t mind.”

“Not wrong, per se. Just… complicated.” I sat on the grass as Fido went to play with his dogs’ friends. Fluttershy wore that same sleeveless white shirt and skirt, no matter how often it got dirty. Nevertheless, she managed to look beautiful, maybe even majestic in some ways. It could be her hair that she always had a little butterfly in, or her gentle posture and voice she always kept no matter what happened. Or even her round, green eyes that could never carry anything but good intent. I couldn't see Fluttershy as anything else but a natural beauty.

It was astonishing that no one had swept her off her feet yet, though not overly so. She didn’t do well with people and spent her time with animals. Hopefully, one day, the perfect guy or girl will walk in here and show her the same love she shows every animal here.

“Hey, Flutters. You’re a girl, right?” I asked with with a coy smirk.

“I certainly identify as one, yes,” she retorted with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

“Then, could you give me advice about a girl? I’m stuck on what to do.”

“Uhm…” she sat down beside me, resting her arm on her slender legs. “I can try.”

“Alright, so,” I rubbed the back of my head, trying to put my thoughts into words half as well as Pinkie could. “Let’s say, there’s someone you hang out with at the end of the week every week, right? You don’t really talk outside of that one day a week, but you enjoy each other’s company and look forward to that day at the end of each week.”

No matter what I asked for advice on, Fluttershy always listened to me with a patient smile, not saying a word and barely making a sound until I was done.

Not this time.

Her smile became a frown, but she didn’t look away or even blink. Something I said must have really caught her interest, and I’m not sure in a good way.

“Fluttershy? You ok? Freaking me out a little.”

“I’m fine. Keep going, I’m listening.”

While her voice was still soft and meek like always, there was something in there I hadn’t heard since I first started working here: apprehension.

“Alright, well, for a while, I thought she had a boyfriend, so I didn’t make a move or anything. I found out she didn’t, and she apparently thought I had a girlfriend when I don’t.”

I paused when her eyes widened, her grip on her knees tightening. Instead of saying anything, she nodded for me to keep going.

“And now…I’m thinking about dating her. I like her a lot as a person, and have no issue talking with her. However, if things go wrong, I’m worried we might not be able to just be friends again. The idea of losing her like that—“ I dropped my gaze, picturing Pinkie’s smiling face and the way she oozed exuberance in her every word. The idea of never talking to her again bothers me a lot more than I thought it would. “It makes me sad. Should I just say ‘fuck it’ and date, risking our friendship? Or reject her, even though I have a hard time imagining things can just go back to normal afterwards?”

I sat there in rigid silence, awaiting her advice. Not even the sounds of the dogs barking registered to me, only Fluttershy’s heavy breathing as I waited. After a minute passed of nothing changing, and I couldn’t stand the anticipation anymore, I glanced upward. “Flutttershy?”

Her face was beet red. I mean it was red. She looked completely flushed. Her pupils were contracted as she stared, shaking as she tried to hide behind her hair without moving her hands at all. “Oh gosh, Rarity said this might happen, but I didn’t think so soon. He doesn’t have a girlfriend? I thought he did, which is why I felt guilty, but…”

I don't think I was meant to hear what she was saying, but my ears had become attuned to her barely audible voice. Her words were like grease to the gears in my brain, finally clicking together and working. “Wait, did you…think I meant you?” I uttered.

She let go of her knees, grabbing her hair and hiding behind it so effectively a turtle would be jealous. "Did you not?”

I could hardly hear her, and yet every word banged against my eardrums like a hammer.

“I…” What was I supposed to say? Words were floating around in my mind, but I didn’t know which one to pick. It was like standing in a room full of bubbles and having to guess which one was the right one to pop when they all looked the same. “Couldn’t you do much better than me? You're beautiful, Fluttershy. Super kind too, you’re grade A wife material.”

I didn’t sound anywhere near as confident as I would have liked to. I could only watch as she laid down, plopping her back on the grass and still hiding most of her face. After a moment, she shook her head back and forth, moving her hair and letting her mouth out.

“I don’t really want someone who likes me because of my appearance, and I’m nice to everyone. It doesn’t matter if you think I could do better, which is just you selling yourself short. I—” she took in a deep breath, moving her hair away from her face and looking me in the eyes. “I like you.”

Her voice cracked and squeaked in a way that was absurdly adorable. Out of the corner of my sight, I saw Angel unzip the backpack, sticking his little head out and pointing his ears towards us as he watched, chewing on a carrot the whole time.

What was I supposed to say? I can’t tell her I was talking about Pinkie, I’d come off as a total sleazebag. The way I made it sound, I can’t really blame her for thinking I was talking about her. Do I tell Fluttershy I like her, too? I mean, she’s very easy on the eyes and is caring, like the mother I never had. I can’t say I’d be against the idea, but she really does deserve better.

“...Why?” I finally asked. “What do I have going for me? There’s no way there aren’t other guys who could give you way more. I’m not anything special.”

“You’re wrong!’ she suddenly said, louder than I’ve ever heard before. She shot up, looking me in the eyes, though still blushing profusely. “You’re easy to talk to, I can’t say that about a lot of guys. Especially not when it comes to animals. You’re nice to me, but I never feel like it's just because you want to sleep with me or anything. You’re genuinely nice, and in high school that’s hard to find in a guy. Lastly,”

She pressed her lips together as she inched closer to me. At first, I thought she was going to kiss me; something a lot more assertive than I would ever think she’d do. Instead, she placed her hand on my face. It was so gentle and soft, like she was making every effort in the world not to hurt me. Fluttershy stared deep into my eyes. "Your eyes…are very pretty. That’s the only thing I care about with physical attractiveness. Nothing else is as important.”’

For the second time today, I was left utterly speechless. This girl, this gorgeous girl who could barely hold a conversation, had just blatantly confessed to me. Even though she could easily get a guy who was way more handsome, or rich, or could just treat her better, she wanted me. And she was pushing herself to convince me that she’s fine with that.

How the hell could I say no?

But if I didn't, what would that do to Pinkie? I told her that I wasn’t interested in dating because I couldn’t find someone as awesome as her, and then left her hanging after she confessed. What if I turned around and rejected her before immediately dating some other girl? She’d probably be heartbroken, but never show it. I doubted I could ever fix our relationship then.

What about Fluttershy? She was right in front of me, forcing herself well out of her comfort zone to get her feelings across. If I said no and started dating someone else, she would think she wasn’t good enough for me and might even be worse than Pinkie afterwards. No chance of us being friends again, either. Angel would probably make my life hell.

Maybe those late night soap operas aren’t that unrealistic.

“Fluttershy, I…this is really sudden. I don’t know what to say.”

“Sudden?” she questioned, drawing her hand back. I was surprised how much I missed her touch. “But…you’re the one that brought it up!”

I nervously gulped, trying to come up with some excuse to recover from the blunder I made.

“Yeah, but, if I’m being honest, I completely expected you to reject me. I just assumed if I brought it up as a hypothetical, you’d do it subtly.”

“Oh.” she whispered. “Well, I didn’t.”

“I noticed.” I said with an awkward chuckle. “And I can’t really say I was expecting it. I don’t know what to say.”

She grabbed her backpack, absentmindedly petting Angel’s head. Curling it up and holding it to her chest. “Why not yes?”

“Because I don’t know. I don’t like making impulsive decisions like this.” I bit my lip, hating that I'd somehow ended up in the same situation twice, and had to give the same answer. “I have to think about it. I’m sorry.”

“Ok,” she squeaked out.

She stood up, leaving her backpack on the ground and walking towards the hose. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything to her for the rest of my time. It was just like when I first came here. We both did the same things we always did with the animals. I heard her talking to Angel a couple of times, but otherwise she didn’t say a word.

I also noticed that she never really stopped blushing. It simmered down a bit, but didn’t stop.
_______

When did my life turn into a teen romantic comedy?

I got home and my dad wasn’t there, which he was rarely on weekends.

I completely collapsed on my bed when I got to my room. Physically, I was fine. Mentally, I was exhausted.

On the way home, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Pinkie and Fluttershy. Just last week, everything between us was fine and how it’d always been. Now, I had to pick between the two of them: Pinkie, a girl full of energy who can talk about just about anything, and who had the most likable personality I’d encountered. Or Fluttershy, the timid beauty who would cause every guy around me to glare out of sheer envy.

“You know what? Isn’t the internet made exactly for stuff like this? That and funny cat videos.” I pulled out my phone, looking up all kinds of things about having relationships. Most were about how to find a girlfriend, or how to keep one, which I couldn’t say was my problem. At least, not yet.

More and more I saw and read about relationships, the more I realized how abnormal it is considered when that relationship starts involving a third party. Cheating or affairs are rampant, but not often could I find anything else. The few times I found someone talking about when they had to choose between two girls in a thread or something, he always said about how he thinks handling more than one girl would just be too much.

What if I don’t think it’s too much?

People who feel obligated to date rarely consider dating a third person with the consent of their partner. Sleeping with them or something, certainly, but not much else. Three people dating each other is just seen as bizarre, and I don’t agree. If three people want to date each other, what’s the problem with it?

Why should I have to pick? If I can date both of them, and make it work, what’s the problem? I don’t see how it would be too difficult if it's like the relationships I’ve been in before, just having to balance between the two. Would that be too selfish of me? Am I asking for too much?

Probably.

Even if that’s true, it’s the best solution I can come up with. If I can date both of them, no one gets rejected. No one gets hurt. The only bad outcome is if things end up going wrong, and I would ruin my friendship with both of them.

At this point, I don’t think trying to figure out a solution that won’t mess up is realistic. To me, this is the best idea I’ve got.

First, I have to see if they would both be ok with it. I should ask Pinkie first; she’s one of the most open-minded people I’ve met. I’m sure she would be willing to at least discuss it as a possibility. Though, I’ll have to explain how I went from having no one I’d be interested in to having two girls I’m interested in the span of one day.

I do kind of need her on my side. I can’t imagine Fluttershy would be open to the idea immediately. With Pinkie, assuming I can convince her to agree, I can at least have a better chance.

I went into my contacts. Pinkie gave me her number a while ago, telling me it was in case I had anything I wanted to discuss at three in the morning and didn’t have anyone else to talk to.

So, uh. What would you say to the idea of a three-way relationship?

I sent that text at 8 PM, right before setting my phone down on my nightstand and trying to get some sleep. My plan was to leave it to future Eight to read. Preferably in the morning where she'd either reject the idea, or be willing to at least talk about it. I usually liked to sleep in on Fridays, so there was plenty of time for her to respond.

I didn’t expect her to do so immediately.

When the phone dinged, I jumped out of the bed. I stood there and stared at my phone in my hand for a minute, almost too afraid to turn it on.

Almost.

Her response was probably what I should have expected.

Wut