Schoolwork was something that Scootaloo typically didn't devote too much attention to, outside of gleaning satisfaction when she recieved a decent grade, or a sense of relief when she finished her homework just before class began. Yet, when she sidled inside the (noticeably easier to open) door of her home after finishing her Sunday morning paper route, she couldn't help but eke a smile looking at the presentation of Newborn Celebration Day leaning against the base of the stairwell.

Granted, Twilight was the one that handled most of the actual construction and application of the glue and paper, she didn't do so unless Scootaloo told her exactly where and how to affix it. Scootaloo was very grateful, for she knew that if she had been in charge of cutting and gluing, it would have been disappointingly sloppy. Her hooves just couldn't match the precision of Twilight's magical manipulation. The perks of being a unicorn, she thought as she slowly ambled towards the dining room table to place her helmet upon it.

The sun had only just started to inch over the horizon, and the orange light filtered through the eastern facing window. The sunbeam settled upon an errant set of papers on the wooden floorboards. The glaring hue helped to obscure the bright red text upon them, but as Scootaloo looked upon the letters, the message portrayed was still perfectly clear.

She paused and sighed resignedly, not bothering to approach the bills to contemplate them further. She had spent an inordinate amount of time the night before laying in bed, thinking how best she - her "parents," rather - would approach writing FSR Realties to object to the alarming and impossible price hike. The problem was that she didn't know how exactly she could complain without risking an investigation that might expose her parents' non-existence. As far as she knew, she had been making payments on time, and that should have been good enough, right? What possible reason could FSR Realties have for quadrupling the price?

With more force than was necessary, Scootaloo set her helmet on the table, turned around and trudged to the stairs with an air of indignation. She had decided that as soon as she finished with her earlier-than-normal paper route (the heft of the Sunday edition of the Ponyville Express necessitated it) that she was going to get back to sleep. She didn't have to work until that evening after all. And, despite the bills taunting her on the dining room floor, she was going to stick to her plan. Scootaloo began to ascend the stairs when her (finished!) project caught her violet eyes again, and she paused to look upon it again with satisfaction.

Located around the collage were of a smattering of hoof drawn illustrations, as well as a series of small notes and bullet points to help Scootaloo with the presentation, in case she might forget some of the information she was to share. This was Twilight's idea.

"It's important to keep track of everything you think will be important. You never know when you may need to call back upon it."

You never know when you may need to call back on it, Scootaloo thought with a slight grin, continuing slowly up the stairs. For the second time, she paused as a wildly exciting, and utterly obvious notion materialized within her tangled web of thoughts and worries.

"That's it!" she cried aloud, galloping up the stairs, past the ever-sealed doors into her own room. She opened up the drawer of the nightstand to bear witness to a sizable stack of papers and books within. They vanished before her, her eyes closing in the midst of a wide yawn. Scootaloo slowly closed the drawer again, looking longingly at her bed. She had made a plan to sleep when she came back home. She crawled underneath the green blanket, nestling comfortably into a small cocoon, wearing a relaxed and hopeful smile. She fully intended to follow the plan to the letter.

Later that afternoon, a sufficiently rested Scootaloo found herself at the dining room table, poring over other plans - or more specifically, the contracts that had allowed her a home in the first place. Armed with a set of books that Scootaloo had checked out from the library years ago (she had forgotten about them entirely, and hoped Twilight didn't charge late fees), she had resolved to read and re-read the contract to find out exactly what could have triggered her egregious billing statements. Her two reference guides helped to translate some of the legalese that these contracts were written in - one titled Deciphering Dizzying Deals: Loans, Contracts and Mortgages Made Simple and the other (ironically titled) Home Ownership for Foals.

The first thing that Scootaloo noticed as the filly analyzed the contract was something that her books illustrated in their opening passages. Much of the wording was excessive and confusing, seemingly for the sake of being excessive and confusing. Indeed, though Scootaloo herself wasn't the best when it came to spelling, the pony at FSR Realties that drafted the contract had a difficult time spelling some of the more vexing phrases; "Assessed Valuation" was spelled "Assesed Valuetion" at several points, "Collateral" spelled "colatteral", and so on and so forth. She did notice, ominously, that "foreclosure" was spelled properly in each instance she saw it.

"...Pre-payment penalty... For paying too early? Is that what I did?" Scootaloo asked aloud, glancing back and forth from the papers to the books. Her eyes read the passage within the Deciphering Dizzying Deals book explaining what a pre-payment penalty was.

The pre-payment penalty is considered among the more nebulous and anti-consumer clauses commonly seen within loan contracts. Essentially, the pony making the payments is charged a fee for - of all things - paying off their debt/loan too early. Lenders often cite that the penalty is not anti-consumer, but merely a way for the lender to recoup some of the estimated losses as a result of shortened interest payments over a long period.

Through careful planning, it's easy enough to avoid a pre-payment penalty. Following a mutually agreed upon payment schedule as is usually stipulated prior to signature is the best way to do so. However, most (but not all!) financial institutions will not impose a pre-payment penalty unless a significant amount, or all of the debt, is paid at once. Barring lottery winnings or inheritances, instances in which this could feasibly occur are quite rare...

"So that's not it, then," Scootaloo grumbled. "I sure wish I had the money to pay this whole thing off at once..." She had been at this for about two hours, and hadn't found anything that might explain the bills she had been asked to pay. A low growl from her stomach distracted her from the next portion of the contract, and she remembered that she hadn't eaten since brunch at Twilight's the day before. Not at all disappointed at the prospect of a break, and a bite to eat, she hopped out from her chair, and trotted away from the paper-laden dining room table towards the kitchen. Scootaloo made her way past the front door and the entryway en route to the stool that she used to clamber onto the counter to access the counter and the cabinets above them. Another reason she couldn't wait to fly.

The pegasus hopped upon the counter, and pulled open the cabinet door where she kept the fillings for her sandwiches. She was tired of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches at this point, but it was easily among the cheapest foods she could afford. Suddenly, she heard the sound of a hoof rapping against the door behind her.

Scootaloo's head jerked towards the knocking at the entryway, and noticed that, the front door was slowly opening. The front door between the kitchen and the dining room. The dining room with all of the evidence of her misdeeds on its table. Her eyes widened as she heard Twilight's voice just outside the door.

"Oops... hello?"

Scootaloo's eyes darted back and forth from the door that was just ajar enough to showcase the dining room table and the table itself, and she uttered an involuntary gasp of horror. She sprang from the countertop, covering the kitchen in a single bound, and dashed madly to slam the door shut before Twilight might discover her secret.

"Ah!" Twilight's voice cried from the other side of the door.

Scootaloo's mind raced as her body was pressed against the freshly sealed door. Why was Twilight here? What did she want? Scootaloo looked up at the table, and knew there was no way she could hide all of the paperwork (and overdue library books) fast or neatly enough from the princess, who was undoubtedly wondering why the door had just been slammed in her face. Scootaloo silently chastised herself for slamming the front door in anger two nights ago after seeing her bill - if she hadn't, the door would likely have not opened with such little resistance.

"Um, hello? Scootaloo?"

Scootaloo felt terror course through her as Twilight's voice called again from just beyond the wooden door. Scootaloo couldn't let Twilight see the paperwork - she just couldn't! At the same time, she couldn't leave an Equestrian princess on her stoop. Still unsure of exactly what she would say, Scootaloo took a deep breath and opened the front door just enough to see Princess Twilight Sparkle looking down at her in confusion.

"Oh! Princess Twilight!" Scootaloo exclaimed in feigned surprise. She watched the princess' face closely to make sure that Twilight's eyes didn't wander up. That Twilight would be able to read the papers at that distance was unlikely, but Scootaloo was taking no chances.

"Hey, Scootaloo." Twilight said slowly, clearly still a bit surprised about the immediacy of a door banging shut inches from her muzzle (Scootaloo hoped that the door didn't hit her, at least). "Is your door -"

"-Broken?" Scootaloo interrupted nervously. "Yeah, it's um.... yeah."

"Right," Twilight nodded. "I was just a bit startled, is all. It kinda slammed and-"

"-There's a draft," Scootaloo explained. "It um... does that sometimes." Before giving Twilight the chance to try and refute the logic that Scootaloo had presented, Scootaloo asked another question to hopefully distract the alicorn. "I'm surprised to see you. How did you even know where I lived?" Scootaloo regretted the question as soon as she asked it: Twilight was the princess of Ponyville, so it stood to reason that she knew where everypony lived. However, Twilight didn't seem perturbed.

"I had your address from this," she explained she produced an envelope from underneath the feathered wing curled at her side. In it's lavender glow, the letter was held aloft for Scootaloo to read the front of.

To the Parents/Guardians of: Scootaloo
119 Clydesdale Court
Ponyville, Equestria

On the top right of the envelope, Scootaloo noticed where the envelope had originated from - Ponyville Elementary School. She began to panic.

"Why do you have it? Mail doesn't even get delivered on Sundays!" Scootaloo sputtered, remembering that she didn't check her mailbox for anything that might have arrived on Saturday.

Twilight just laughed. "I know it doesn't, Scootaloo. No, Cheerilee stopped by on Friday night. When I told her that you and I would be working on Saturday, she asked me to give this to you to give to your parents," she explained. Scootaloo's heart jumped as Twilight peered into the doorway ever so slightly. "Are... they home?" Twilight inquired.

"No!" Scootaloo replied impulsively. "They're both at work right now. Why, um... why do you think she didn't just put it in the mail?"

Twilight shrugged. "Cheerilee said she wanted to deliver it in person. Said she stopped by on Friday, but no one was here."

"Oh yeah, they were both at work Friday night," Scootaloo explained without thinking again.

"I see," Twilight smiled. "Where do they work?"

"Who?"

"Your parents!" Twilight replied with a laugh.

"Oh right," Scootaloo nodded rapidly. "They work at um..." She paused for a moment, wracking her brain to come up with an appropriate answer that would explain why Twilight wouldn't have ever met them. She looked up at the blue sky and the wispy clouds over Twilight's shoulder. "They work in... Clouds...dale? They're business ponies in Cloudsdale," she added with confidence, hoping the answer would satisfy the inquisitive princess.

It didn't. "Cloudsdale? But they live in Ponyville?" Twilight inquired further, much to Scootaloo's dismay.

"Yeah, they uh..." Scootaloo struggled to fabricate a reason for the disparity, but then she realized that she didn't quite need to. "It's because of me," she admitted sadly.

Twilight frowned and uttered a soft "oh."

"Yeah, not being able to fly doesn't work so well for a city in the sky," Scootaloo said. "So they moved to Ponyville."

Twilight's frown morphed into a slight smile. "They must care a lot about you."

"Yeah... they do..."

The two sat in uncomfortable silence, both looking at the ground. Scootaloo stood partially concealed behind the door, wishing that the story she told was true. The sound of rustling leaves scraping the ground as the wind carried them broke the silence, and both Twilight and Scootaloo watched the gust lift a swirling gaggle of leaves up the street.

"They're falling earlier this year," Twilight remarked. "Though, the Running of the Leaves on Wednesday should still be good fun."

Scootaloo nodded, but didn't speak.

"Well then, could you give this to them when they come home?" Twilight asked gently, the envelope waving in front of her.

"Yeah, I'll do that," Scootaloo answered as the envelope drifted past her head, where it was placed upon the already paper-covered dining room table. Scootaloo's concern seemed to have faded at the perpetuated tale of her parents that weren't. The glow dissipated around the letter.

"Also," Twilight started quietly, and Scootaloo looked at the princess with a mix of hope and fear. "I 'spoke', for lack of a better term, to Princess Celestia last night after you left."

Scootaloo's eyebrow raised ever-so slightly. "Oh?"

"And..." Twilight's face broke out into a smile. "We agreed that I will go to meet with the Cabinet of Seers tomorrow."

The pegasus' eyes widened as her brain pieced together exactly what that meant. "So that means..."

"That means that tomorrow, I will try to ask them about you," Twilight finished. "And, if all goes well and works like we hope it will,, we'll find out if you'll be able to fly."

All pretense of secrecy abandoned, Scootaloo opened the door wide, and bounced outside in glee. "You mean it?"

"I promised I would, didn't I?" Twilight asked with just a shade of haughtiness.

"Yeah, you did, but I didn't actually think..." Scootaloo stuttered excitedly. "Oh, thank you, Princess Twilight! For the project, for the food, for this and - and - oh, thank you!"

Scootaloo could swear that Twilight kneeled ever so slightly as to facilitate the filly's forelegs wrapping around her neck in a hug.

"Just Twilight, Scootaloo," Twilight spoke simply. Scootaloo let go slowly and her hooves landed on the ground. "Speaking of the project," Twilight gestured to the cardboard project resting by the stairs in the entryway through the doorway, "I understand you're presenting it tomorrow after school?"

"Mm-hm!" Scootaloo nodded fervently.

"Well then, after the presentation, come by the library - I should be back by then - and you can tell me how you did, and I'll tell you what I learned."

"Okay!"

"Alright then, I guess I will see you tomorrow around say, four o' clock?" Twilight suggested to a most eager Scootaloo as they walked away from the house together.

"Four it is! I am so there!" Scootaloo cried giddily as they approached the mailbox. Scootaloo stopped by the mailbox while Twilight continued to walk towards the heart of Ponyville to where the library was.

"See you tomorrow, Scootaloo! Have a good evening!" Twilight called over her shoulder.

"I-I will!" Scootaloo called back, shaking in anticipation at the prospect that in twenty four hours, she would know whether she would finally be able to fly. The pegasus trotted back to her house, and a voice in her head was quick to speak to her along the way.

Just because you can find out, that doesn't mean you'll like the answer.

Scootaloo shook her head, trying her best to hold dearly to the optimism that she was feeling. Mid-shake, she looked back at the mailbox, and had an idea. She galloped back down the walkway and positioned herself underneath it. She bent all four limbs, paused, and then leapt as high as she could in the air, her wings buzzing as frantically as they could muster.

She looked up cautiously, careful not to break the concentration on her practically humming wings retaining their motion. Slowly, she reached up towards the handle of the mailbox with her right foreleg, but her hoof could only reach the lid. As soon as she touched it, her wings faltered, and she came to the ground. Scootaloo was panting, staring up at the mailbox with a smile. Wobbling, she made her way back to her house.

She was closer than she'd ever been to reaching it. And that was, as far as she was concerned, a good sign.

Author's Notes:

Not dead yet.

Pre-read by my amazing friend RaylanKrios, whom I want to thank for everything he's done for me in the past few months. It's amazing what just talking to someone can do for morale.