“...and that’s how we find our answer.” Miss Cheerilee writes down the answer on the board with chalk dust covering her muzzle. It’s strange: you once tried writing with a pencil in your mouth in hopes of fitting in with the other classmates, but it never worked out that well. Your hands were much more useful. How a pony could keep a piece of chalk in her mouth without gagging from the dust was a wonder that would never be explained in this lifetime.

You find yourself looking up at the clock in the back of the room, making sure not to get caught by Cheerilee. She loved to pick on the students who were impatient with the school da—

“Maybe you know the answer to the next question. Anonymous?”

Crap, busted. You slowly turn back to the front of the class and look at the displeased pony and crack a cheesy smile.

“Can you repeat the question again, Miss Cheerilee? I had to crack my neck to stop the stiffness.” You turn your head in all different directions to fake a cracking in hopes of tricking the teacher. Cheerilee shoots you a glare so hot, it could melt ice. She clearly isn’t falling for it.

“If sin A equals one half and cos A is less than zero, then A equals what?”

A chill runs down your spine. You haven’t got a clue on what she’s talking about. Sweat begins to bead on your forehead as feel all the stares from your peers land on you.

“One hundred fifty degrees.”

You already know who it is letting out that subtle whisper. Apple Bloom hides behind her textbook, a smirk coursing her lips.

Now that you have the answer, your confidence peaks. “One hundred fifty degrees!” you state, proudly brandishing your chest like a champion gladiator. Apple Bloom, along with a select few fillies and colts, hold back their giggles as Cheerilee’s glare grows hotter.

“Very well done. Now, come to the front of the room and show how you got the answer to the rest of the class.”

Your testicles retract back into your pelvis. Quickly, you glance at Apple Bloom in hopes of getting another round of help. Her devastated expression tells you that she’s just as stumped as you are. Slowly, you leave the safety of your desk and make your way to the front of the room. Cheerilee gives you a piece of chalk, covered in spit. You want to throw it aside, but something tells you that would be taken as a disrespectful gesture. With a very hesitant hand, you begin doodling on the board while surrounding your body over it to hide its contents away from everyone.

The rest of the class tries its best to see what you could be writing, but immediately stop as Cheerilee’s gaze comes over them. The last thing they want is to be the next victim. After what feels like an eternity, you glance over your shoulder and look up at the clock once more. Only a minute until the final bell.

Cheerilee taps her hoof against the floor impatiently. “Well, Anon? You came up with the answer rather quickly. It shouldn’t take this long to write it down.”

It’s time. The moment of truth. You back away from the board and step aside to allow the rest of the class access. A few of the onlookers gasp and chuckle as Cheerilee’s eyes widen. Across the board reads, “Miss Cheerilee has an ugly flank.”

“And that’s how I found my answer!” you say with a sense of entitlement. The bell rings, but no one moves from their seats. Your legs freeze in place, not moving no matter what you do. Cheerilee, with a blank expression, turns to the class.

“Class, you may head home now. Don’t forget, your projects are due tomorrow. Anon...” she says with a casual tone, “... you stay behind. You too, Apple Bloom.”

Your feet finally decide to move, but instead of making their way towards the door, you find yourself moving towards the bubblegum colored teacher. “Wait!” you blurt out. “Apple Bloom didn’t do anything wrong! Why is she in trouble?”

Cheerilee ignores you and repeats her statement. “Apple Bloom, make sure not to leave.” Without objection, Apple Bloom stops packing her things and sits back in her seat. Cheerilee turns back to you. This blank, deadpan face of hers… you’ve never seen her do this before. It’s frightening.

“Take your seat, Anon.”

You don’t even hesitate. Sulking back to your desk, you take a seat, but don’t dare to look up from it. Cheerilee drags a stool between Apple Bloom and yourself and sits down.

“Anon.” Your heart skips a beat. Getting yelled at was a normal thing for you, but this monotonous tone was terrifying. You have no idea what she’s going to do next. Your eyes don’t stray from your hands on the desk. “Anon, look at me.” Slowly, your eyes pry from your hands to your teacher’s face. Disappointment covers it. She lets out a disheartened sigh and shakes her head.

“I’m not angry with you two. I’m disappointed.” You glance over to see Apple Bloom look down at her desk. You’re pretty sure you saw her lip quiver as well. Your gaze returns to Cheerilee. “Anon, you’ve been behind in your studies. I know that you don’t like studying, but think about your future. Without proper education, you’re not going to go very far.”

Your eyes resume their position on your hands as your teacher continues.

“As for you, Apple Bloom…” Her tone has a fair bit of bitterness behind it, almost as if she’d never expect to do this in a million years. “You can’t give him the answers to everything. I know you understand the material, but giving him a shortcut like that isn’t going to help him. It’s just going to hurt him.” Apple Bloom nods her head, signalling an understanding.

The teacher steps down from her seat and let’s out one last disappointed sigh. “I’m not going to punish you two, but if I have sit down with you both again, you can be sure both your guardians will be here as well.”

Both you and Apple Bloom nod, simultaneously muttering an apology. Cheerilee returns to her desk as you quickly pack up your stuff and head outside. The weather is so nice today. How could anyone want to stay indoors? Apple Bloom follows you out into the warm, sun lit surrounding, making sure to keep up alongside you. It’s not too long before the other Cutie Mark Crusaders regroup with their member. “What you did in there was pretty brave, Anon! You got some guts standing up for Apple Bloom in there,” Scootaloo comments. She nudges you in side with a hoof, making you wince a bit. You hold back the pain, of course. The last thing you wanted was to look like a wimp to a bunch of girls. Apple Bloom blushes and shakes her head in embarrassment.

Before she can even say anything, you cut in. “Yeah, well… If I wasn’t so stupid, Apple Bloom wouldn’t have gotten in trouble at all.”

“You’re not stupid, Anon!” Apple Bloom scolds. Her eyes immediately drop back to the ground as Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo exchange smirks and return their attention back to you. They always have a tendency of doing that and you don’t know why. It makes you feel so uncomfortable at times.

“Apple Bloom is right, Nonny.” Your heart skips a beat from the sound of that voice. Standing right behind you are your two guardians, Flitter and Cloudchaser, wearing almost sinister grins. You can feel the blood rush to your cheeks from embarrassment as Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle’s snickers increase in volume. Even Apple Bloom cracks a slight smile at the mention of the nickname.

“C’mon… I told you guys to stop calling me that,” you whisper, trying not to display your frustration. Flitter, however, nuzzles your cheek, letting out a quiet squee.

“But Nonny is such a cute name! Why don’t you like it?”

“Yeah, why don’t you like it, Nonny?” Scootaloo teases.

“For the same reason you don’t like being called ‘chicken’.” Scootaloo averts her eyes and scratches her foreleg nervously. Sweetie Belle’s smirk quickly fades away, probably because she knows the name Diamond Tiara calls her will be used. You don’t like to be mean-spirited to anyone, but that doesn’t mean you won’t defend yourself when you need to.

“Nonny, what have we said about using mean names before?” That voice gives you goosebumps when she gets serious.

Turning to Cloudchaser, you mutter, “Not to use them.” She gives you one last scowl before cracking a wide grin.

“Good. Now, what do you guys have planned for today?”

“I was thinking about going down to the lake and skipping some stones or maybe exploring Whitetail Woods again,” you quickly reply. A hoof taps your side, trying to get your attention. Apple Bloom gives you stern look.

“Anon, we have our projects due tomorrow.”

Flitter and Cloudchaser both raise an eyebrow, mimicking Apple Bloom’s look. “Oh, do you? Why haven’t we heard anything about this project?”

If there was anything you didn’t want now, it was this. You try your best to come up with an excuse, but before you can say another word, Apple Bloom jumps in.

“If you want, Anon, I can help you with your project.” Her turn cheeks a deep, rosy red. Flitter and Cloudchaser both exchange giggles. You’d recognize those giggles anywhere. They always broke into one of those fits when they talked about boys, like Thunderlane or Soarin. They couldn’t possibly think…

“I don’t know. I kind of wanted t—”

Cloudchaser breaks off from her chortle charade and stares you down. Cloudchaser is not the kind of mare you would mess with. Last time you disobeyed her, she used you as a makeup project and threatened to send you to school like that if you chose to disobey her ever again. You glance over at Apple Bloom, who hangs her head in defeat, and quickly catch on to what Cloudchaser is hinting.

“On second thought, that sounds like a good idea.”

Apple Bloom’s head perks up instantaneously, a huge smile plastered on her face. Your two guardians resume their giggles as you let out a defeated sigh.

It seems that no matter where you go, there will be always be women— er, mares to bring you down. Even as you make your way to Sweet Apple Acres, you take notice of how few stallions there are. Out of the fifty ponies you see along the way, you count only five stallions.

“You alright, Anon?”

Shaking your head, bring yourself back down to earth. “Yeah, I was just noticing how the amount of mares in this world outweighs the stallions.” Apple Bloom cocks an eyebrow in confusion. It’s only expected; she’s used to only a small amount of stallions in her town.

“I counted fifty ponies and only five of them were stallions. That means, on average, there’s ten mares to one stallion. The number isn’t entirely accurate, though, being only a small sample. The number would change according to the environment, birth and death rate, breeding times, and other aspects as well.” The words just seem to flow right off the tip of your tongue without realizing it.

Apple Bloom’s eyes widen in surprise. “Anon, that’s what we learned in statistics last week.”

“So?” you retort.

“So… Why did you fail the test if you knew the material all along?” You stop your stride and think about it for a moment.

“Dunno. Guess I never really had a reason to use it before. My mind usually goes blank when I take a test.” You shrug it off and resume your walk. “Does it really matter?”

“In a way, yes. Hmm.” Apple Bloom comes to halt as you both approach a very decorative trellis. This is your first time at Sweet Apple Acres and you’re kind of glad you came along. Orchards spread far across the hills, blooming with plump, luscious apples. The place is a marvel to see.

“It sure is something, ain’t it?” says an all-too-familiar voice. Applejack dumps a basket filled with fresh, crisp apples into a cart before making her way to greet you and Apple Bloom.

“It sure is, Miss Applejack.”

A frown forms on the mare’s face. “Anon, I told you not to call me ‘Miss’. Just Applejack is fine.” Her signature smile comes back as she ruffles your hair.

You always liked Applejack. Though she’s a serious pony, she never looks down on you like the rest of the mares and stallions in town. You’re pretty much her equal and vice versa.

“So, what brings you to this neck of the woods?” she asks, keeping a keen eye on her little sister.

“Anon needs help with his project, so I offered to help him out,” she pipes with a cheeky grin. Applejack lets out a hearty chuckle. You can’t tell why, but something about that laugh makes you nervous.
“I see,” Applejack coos, the smile on her face growing wider still. “Well, make sure to introduce your… ‘friend’ here to Granny Smith and Big Macintosh. You know how upset they get if they don’t get to meet your friends.” You turn to Apple Bloom, trying to figure out what Applejack means by emphasizing the word “friends”. The filly just shrugs and starts leading you to the large home down the dirt road.

“What was that all about?” you question. Apple Bloom completely avoids eye contact with you, but you can see her face is completely red.

“Nothing.”

Why is everyone acting so strange when I’m with Apple Bloom? you ask yourself. When you’re in class, she’s just another friend to you when it comes to your classmates. But whenever there’s an older pony involved, they always act strange. Almost as if they think you’re both an ite—

It finally clicks. Do they think that Apple Bloom… like likes you? There’s no way that could be true. You two are just friends! But… it would explain why Apple Bloom always blushes at the slightest mention of being more than friends.

Or it could be because she doesn’t see you like that and it makes her embarrassed to even think about it. You look over to Apple Bloom, who still refuses to meet your gaze, and nod.

Yeah, that’s the only logical explanation.

You hold open the front door for the filly, who mutters a small, “Thank you,” before quickly making her way inside. The house’s interior is nothing like its exterior. Outside, the paint is thinned and cracking, giving off an old, falling apart feel to it. But inside, it’s well furnished and cozy. It feels like home away from home.

“Well, well, well! Is this the strapping youngster you’re always going on about, Apple Bloom?” An elderly mare sits at the counter, a bowl and freshly sliced apples laid across it.

“Granny!” Apple Bloom’s face flushes, anger clear in her eyes. You can’t help but giggle along with the mare as you extend a hand out for a shake.

“My name is Anonymous, ma’am. You must be Apple Bloom’s other sister.”

“Oh! This one’s a keeper!” Granny Smith jests, nudging the filly with her hoof. “I’m sorry to disappoint you son, but I’m her Granny.” You let out a hearty laugh as Apple Bloom scoffs at her Granny’s joke and pushes you out of the kitchen.

“Now don’t you two be doing anything questionable up there, ya hear?” Granny shouts as you’re unwillingly dragged to Apple Bloom’s room.

Looking around, it seems like a pretty stereotypical room for a girl: a vanity with a large mirror, a wardrobe most likely packed with clothes, and a frilly full-size bed with matching drapes, sit spread across the room. It smells, obviously, of apples, but also a hint of cinnamon as well.

“So,” Apple Bloom squeaks, “what’re you gonna do for your project?”

You immediately plop down on the bed and sprawl out. “I don’t even know what the assignment is.”

Apple Bloom scoffs and pulls out her planner from her saddlebag. After a quick flick of her hoof, she flips to the necessary page. “We have to write a story about a special time in our life and be as creative as possible.”

There were a couple of special things that have happened to you over the years: showing up in Equestria, moving in with Cloudchaser and Flitter. But there was one thing that was even more special to you.

Jumping down from the bedside, you dig into your backpack and grab a notebook and a pencil. Jotting every small detail, you begin filling up page after page, perking Apple Bloom’s interest. The filly leans forward, trying to take a sneak a peek at your notes. You wrench the notebook away, not wanting her to see it.

“This is something I don’t want you to hear until we’re in class tomorrow. No one knows, but this memory was life changing for me.” Apple Bloom, a little taken aback, stares at you in confusion, but respects your wish. She continues to watch as you lay into the notebook, not showing the pages nor the pencil any sign of letting up.

“Anon, I’m supposed to be helping you with this, remember?”

You roll your eyes. “Do you have any poster board and glue, then? I could make a little banner for my story.” Apple Bloom puts a hoof to her chin before looking under her bed.

“I got some poster board under here somewhere.” As she digs around, you hear metal, glass, and other objects clanging against one another. “The glue should be in the top drawer of my vanity.”

Sure enough, it’s in there. As you grab the squeezable bottle, it starts to slip from your hands. A grease-like substance covers the container.

“Uh, Apple Bloom? Why is this bottle all greasy?”

“Long story short, Scootaloo dropped it on a grilled cheese sandwich one day and I haven’t been able to get the darn grease off since.”

The thing is really hard to handle. Every few seconds or so, you find yourself trying your hardest not to let it fall on the ground. The last thing you wanted to do was get glue all over your host’s floor. Apple Bloom finally returns from her venture under the bed with a poster in her mouth.

“What do you have planned, Anon?” she asks, eagerness evident in her voice.

Before you can say a word, the bottle slips from your grasp, rocketing into the air. You juggle it everywhere, unable to maintain a grip on it. As it reaches your waistline, you grab it with both hands.

You grab too hard, however. In the span of a second, the bottle emits a jet of white liquid…

...all over Apple Bloom’s face. The filly doesn’t even see it coming. Before she can even react, it gets in her eyes and mane. In the spur of the moment, the bottle jets out of your hands and under the bed.

"What're you doing to my sister?!"

You freeze for a moment, not knowing who the new, deep, masculine voice belongs to. Slowly, you turn your head to notice a large, red stallion glaring directly at you. He makes his way towards you, alternating stares between you and Apple Bloom.

The look in his eyes: it screams murder.

You don’t know why, but your brain doesn’t work properly any more. The last thing you want to do is get in trouble for getting glue everywhere. So you do the first thing that comes to mind: snatch up your notebook and run.

You don’t even look back. With every ounce of strength in your body, you hightail it down the stairs, sprint out the front door, and dart straight for home.

Before you can get to your room and hide, Flitter grabs your arm. "Whoa there, Nonny! What happened?"

"It… It was all over the place! In her hair, some got in her eyes and then Big Mac walked in and I thought he was gonna kill me!"

The guffaws of your two sisters do nothing to soothe your mind about the new enemy you're certain you've made.

Author's Notes:

It's been five months since I've written anything worthwhile. I hope this make up for it.
There's more to come.