As the morning sun rose in Ponyville, so did its denizens. The market stalls gradually began to line themselves with various wares, foods, and other oddments that the shopkeepers deemed worthy of display. In near perfect synchrony, signs flipped from the apologetic “Sorry, We’re Closed” to the inviting “Yes, We’re Open!” across the market districts. The smell of freshly baked goods wafted through the air, aided by the breeze emanating from the west. Up above, the few clouds still remaining in the sky were quickly purged by the early morning weather shift. It was one of the few days left in autumn that were scheduled to be warm and hospitable – the leaves had already started to fall in some places that had heavy traffic.

The parks and other swatches of grass lining the dirt roads still glimmered as the sun shone brightly on the morning dew that covered them. However, the schoolyard had only flecks and patches of this shimmer remaining, as the young fillies and colts had already proceeded to trample across them in their early morning play. Most of them arrived earlier than normal, each carrying a cardboard collage or poster laden with numerous facts, illustrations (hoof-drawn by the more artistically gifted), and blurbs about the topics for which they were constructed. Most of them.

However, at Sweet Apple Acres, a young light-yellow filly topped with a vivid red mane and a large pink bow leaned against the white fence encircling the exterior, and released an exasperated sigh. She too had one of the project boards, yet she was on the precipice of running late to class. That was something that neither her big sister, Applejack, nor grandmother, Granny Smith, would take very well. Considering that the project made up for a significant portion of the semester’s grade, her aversion to tardiness on this day in particular was understandable. Her name was Apple Bloom, and she was waiting for her two friends, a unicorn named Sweetie Belle, and (the one who was piloting the transport vehicle) a pegasus pony named-

“Scootaloo!” Apple Bloom called out, with nothing but a soft breeze and distant clucking of chickens to offer their acknowledgment of her frustration. Neither of them did. “Where in tarnation are those two?” she cried, growing more frustrated. Gazing at the sunbeams filtering along the horizon through several apple trees, the young filly judged that she had around 15 to 20 minutes before the school bell rang. Sighing once again, she folded the cardboard presentation along it’s perforations into thirds, and hoisted it on to her back with her teeth. As she began to trot down the dirt path lined with apple trees, her project slipped off from her back and landed with a soft thump on ground at her side. She turned erratically, leaning down to grip one of the folded edges with her small mouth. Apple Bloom counted silently to herself, a quick cadence, before whipping her head upward and bringing the now unfurled school diorama over her back once more. Again, she started down the road. Another ten or so meters, and the diorama rolled off her back.

“UGH! This thing is bigger than me, how am Ah supposed to carry it by myself?” Apple Bloom cried in frustration. This was why she, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo – the collective they dubbed the Cutie Mark Crusaders – had arranged for Scootaloo to pick them up with her scooter. As a young Pegasus, Scootaloo had a set of equally young wings. Although they had not yet developed the size or ability to fly, her wings could flap with enough speed to supply her two-wheeled scooter with a surprisingly robust form of propulsion. Indeed, it was strong enough for Scootaloo to pull both Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle behind her in a small red wagon. While Scootaloo piloted them to school, it would leave the other two with a free set of hooves to grasp all of their school work. Apple Bloom had thought of the idea, and it would have worked perfectly if Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle had both arrived when they had agreed to.

Apple Bloom half-considered returning back to her house to see if Applejack or Big Macintosh (her quiet older brother) would help, when from behind her, she heard someone calling her name. She recognized the voice as Sweetie Belle’s, and sure enough upon turning around, she saw the white unicorn bouncing along in the red wagon, cotton candy mane windswept and untidily flopping above her. Pulling the wagon was a panting orange Scootaloo, adorned with a purple mane (hidden by the purple safety helmet she wore for protection while riding her scooter) and matching violet eyes. Scootaloo gently eased on the brakes while her wings twitched to a halt, the scooter and trailer coasting slowly to a stop alongside the yellow earth pony.

Sweetie Belle bounced upwards, pushing herself to the back of the wagon and leaving enough room for Apple Bloom to climb aboard in front of her and her own school project, also larger than the unicorn filly. “Good morning, Apple Bloom!” she greeted cheerfully, a wide smile adorning her face, flickering ever-so-slightly at the annoyed grimace worn by Apple Bloom. “Is everything alright?” she asked.

“What took y’all so long?” Apple Bloom exclaimed. “Ah thought we agreed to get to school early this mornin’. You know, to put the finishing touches on our projects?” she stated.

Scootaloo took a deep breath, sputtering out her morning greeting. “Morning, AB. Sorry about that, that was my bad. I was getting my project ready to go late last night, and I overslept a little.” She wiped away a bead of sweat from her brow, clear evidence that despite her tardiness, Scootaloo had indeed intended to make up for lost time. As such, she gestured for Apple Bloom to hop in the wagon behind her. Sweetie Belle, just as anxious to get to school, patted the spot invitingly, much like one would to entice a cat or dog to park themselves next to their owner. A habit she no doubt picked up from her sister, Rarity, who often tried vainly to tame her cat, Opalescence.

Apple Bloom smiled at the thought, handing her diorama to Sweetie Belle’s outstretched hooves before hopping into the wagon in front of her. She rotated herself enough to grab her project and set it standing before her. “At least ya made it, and not too late,” she conceded, accepting Scootaloo’s apology. “Although, Ah coulda carried it mahself anyways,” Apple Bloom added.

“Really?” Sweetie Belle squeaked. “Mine is bigger than me, there’s no way I could have carried it by myself.” Scootaloo’s wings began buzzing not unlike those of a hummingbird, and the trio lurched forward, en route to the schoolhouse. Apple Bloom grinned sheepishly to herself, not caring to admit she had uttered those very words less than thirty seconds to her friend’s arrival. Keeping her diorama folded in front of her, she examined the outside of it for signs of damage that may have been incurred during her attempt at solo travel. Other than a barely noticeable bend along the right edge, it was pristine. She felt Sweetie Belle brace her diorama against her back, no doubt conducting an inspection of her own. Apple Bloom saw (and felt!) trace flecks of glitter raining down from above her. It was very Sweetie Belle. Having worked with Sweetie Belle extensively on their projects together, she knew that the specks and sparkles that settled on her mane were just fragments of the spectacle within the cardboard shell. They had been given two weeks to prepare them, and Sweetie Belle spent a majority of hers with gluing pink, red, and white construction paper hearts coated in multiple shiny layers of glitter to the cardboard frame. However, she also noticed something else.

“Hey, Scootaloo?” Apple Bloom yelled around the furiously beating wings in front of her.

“Yeah?”

“Where’s yours?”

The rhythmic pulse of the wings ceased jarringly for only a moment, before resuming their cycle. Scootaloo bent her head to the left, careful to ensure there was nothing in front of her before taking her eyes off the road. “What was that?”

Apple Bloom quickly turned her head around behind her, looking just to make sure she wasn’t mistaken. Sweetie Belle followed suit, lifting herself just slightly to check that she wasn’t sitting on it.

"Your Holidays of Equestria project for school,” Apple Bloom clarified. “Did you forget it at home?”

Another jerk as their motor halted, this time easing to a stop as they coasted slowly up to the front of the schoolyard. Scootaloo leapt from her seat, unbuckling her helmet, and resting the scooter in place. “We’re here! Just in time too,” she exclaimed louder than the situation called for.

Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom both lowered themselves out of the wagon, exchanging glances at one another. This time, it was Sweetie Belle who asked about Scootaloo’s school assignment. “Scoots, you do have your project, right?” Scootaloo, careful not to look at either pony as she precariously hung her helmet from it’s strap onto the handlebars of her scooter, mumbled soft enough that only she could hear it. The other two fillies both raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry, didn’t quite catch that.” Sweetie Belle offered again sweetly. Scootaloo’s little wings twitched as she turned to face her interrogators, a look of discontent lining her face.

“I was just gonna do an… um, you know, an oral presentation,” she sputtered out.

“An oral presentation?” Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle echoed simultaneously.

“You can’t do just an oral presentation for this, Scootaloo!” Apple Bloom preached.

“Yeah,” chimed in Sweetie Belle. “The visual aid is half the grade. Even if you aced the actual speaking part, you would still…” she stopped as her Pegasus friend’s eyes widened and narrowed in time with her words.

“I’m not gonna fail,” Scootaloo said crossly. “I’ll be just fine. I’m just gonna have to really make it pop.”

Apple Bloom looked nervously between Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle. “If you’re sure… but, why ain’tcha got one? Isn’t that why you were late?” Scootaloo opened her mouth just as soon as Apple Bloom finished the question to defend herself.

“Hey! We’re not late! I made it here with like… five minutes to spare.”

Cheerilee, the school teacher stuck her head out of the door and yelled. “Alright, my little ponies! Two minutes until class! Please come in and take your seats so we can get started on the presentations.”

“OK, so two minutes,” Scootaloo corrected herself. “I would have done it, you know, but I just didn’t have time,” she stammered.

“Didn’t have time?” Apple Bloom asked incredulously, her inexplicable southern accent punctuating her vowels. “Me n’ Sweetie been holed up in Twilight’s library-”

“Princess Twilight’s library, you mean,” Scootaloo interrupted smartly.

“The point is, Scootaloo,” Sweetie Belle spoke cautiously, trying to defuse the situation. She couldn’t stand to watch her friends fight. “We’ve been working non-stop these past two weeks in the library to get it done. Every time we ask you to come with, you’re always busy.”

“I’m always busy this time of year,” Scootaloo said quickly. “Besides, I’m sure that Princess Twilight Sparkle has better things to do than help a bunch of fillies with school work.”

“Nuh-uh!” Apple Bloom argued, shaking her head. “Princess Twilight is real big on education. When she wasn’t working with Rainbow Dash outside, she and Spike were really nice about helping us find books, and making us snacks and stuff.”

Scootaloo rolled her eyes, offering a sarcastic “I’m sure” in response. She took a deep breath, and tried her best to reassure the other two that they were making too big a deal about it. “Don’t worry about it, girls. I’ll… I’ll figure something out. As long as I max points on the talking bits, I’m sure I’ll still have a good enough grade at the end of the semester.” Scootaloo started up the front steps, taking small hops to ascend quicker. “Come on, let’s get to class.”

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle both sighed, gripping their cardboard with their teeth and placing them on their backs. They strode up behind Scootaloo, careful to hold their cargo steady as their friend held the door for them.

“Thanks,” Sweetie Belle said as she made her way inside. The smell of chalk and ink hung around the air, the door closing behind the three. “So, which holiday DID you go with?” She asked, turning her head to look behind her at Scootaloo.

“I went with umm… Hearts and Hooves Day. Should be an easy one, right?” Scootaloo replied.

“Eep!” Sweetie Belle squeaked, bouncing ever so slightly. It was just enough for her folded cardboard diorama to fall to the floor on it’s back, the folded thirds unfurling and causing a small puff of glitter to rise from the collage. A bright pink and red cacophony of color and shimmer lay on the floor before the ponies, with words crafted meticulously from bright yellow construction paper reading “Hearts and Hooves Day!”

Scootaloo turned her head to read the font. “Oh, uhh… you’re doing it too?” she inquired.

Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom both fidgeted while the former answered. “Well, yes. And no. Not also. Don’t you remember what Miss Cheerilee said about the project?” Scootaloo shook her head.

"We all have to do a different holiday,” Apple Bloom explained, unfolding her project. It was much less glamorous, divided neatly into square sections of many hues, mainly red and green. On top, it said “Hearth’s Warming Eve”. “You woulda known that Sweetie was doin’ Hearts and Hooves Day if you had worked with us,” she finished with a rather accusatory tone.

“Be nice,” Sweetie Belle whispered to her, motioning towards the increasingly distraught Scootaloo.

“Sorry, Scoots. Ah didn’t mean for it to come out that way…” Apple Bloom apologized, speech slowing towards the end of her sentence as she watched Scootaloo grow pallid.

Scootaloo gulped, her eyes growing wide. “Does this mean that… oh no…” A torrent of their classmates came brushing past the three in the hallways. Sweetie Belle picked up her Hearts and Hooves Day diorama, leaving behind yet another light frosting of glitter on the floor that had been shaken loose. Scootaloo noticed that all of the ponies moving past them were carrying various posters, folders, single-page collages, and pictures with them. Some also carried hefty cardboard displays like her friends had. She felt horribly exposed not having one of her own. And now, she didn’t have a researched holiday to present at all.

“Girls… I think I’m gonna fail.”

Author's Notes:

I hope the premise of failing a school assignment is an interesting enough one to start with.

My first story! My friend who agreed to edit and proofread is super busy, so if anybody would like to help out, please let me know.

I would appreciate any sort of criticism otherwise. Please tell me what you think!