The truck ride to school was quiet, and that was what ruined it.

Sitting in the back with Apple Bloom, who was fiddling idly with her phone (probably texting her friends), Ink was in the perfect position to see the anger rising out of Applejack as Big Mac drove all four of them to Canterlot High. It was not a position she enjoyed, not just because of the anticipation that was currently killing her, but because of its close proximity to Big Mac. That scene in front of Sugarcube Corner bothered her to no end, even as she struggled to figure out why.

Ink was only partly thankful that Applejack hadn’t learned about what had happened that day, but that didn’t mean jack squat considering she knew that Sugar Belle was back in town. It was probably taking the farm girl all of her willpower not to lash out and scold Mac for “the dumbest thang anyone in the Apple family could ever do!” As they rode, Applejack’s frown deepened; her brow furrowed; and it was clear her willpower was incapable of matching her anger.

Ink glanced out the window. The snow was still there, of course. But the roads were much wetter, more slick, and so Mac drove at a slow pace through the winding paths onto the main street that led through the city. Suddenly she wondered if Sugar Belle had ridden in this truck, if she had sat in Ink’s current seat; or, perhaps, and perhaps this had occurred to Applejack as well, in the passenger’s seat. And what was a high-society city girl to do with a big, brawny fellow like Mac but…

Ink’s face reddened. She forced the thought away with a light clearing of her throat, hoping no one had caught her.

As they were coming to the light, a car suddenly darted out from a nearby driveway, cutting in front of Mac. He slammed on the brakes and let out a curse.

“Leave ‘im be, Mac,” Applejack murmured.

“AJ, he cut me off—”

“Ah said, leave ‘im be!”

“AJ—”

The two went back and forth like that, and their voices kept rising and rising. Apple Bloom looked up from her phone, frowning, then looked over at Ink. She seemed to be asking for something—a gesture, a negotiator, an in-betweener, someone with a cool head to rise above the hotter ones—but this Ink could not provide. All she could do was look out the window and wish they were at school already.

“What’s with you today, Applejack?” Big Mac shouted. “You’ve been stewing all morning, an’ now all of a sudden yer getting on mah case on account of some idiot’s driving!”

“You know damn well what’s with me!” Applejack shouted back. “You know it, Apple Bloom knows it, even Ink knows it!”

Mac turned around to face the two in the back. “That so? Then maybe one of y’all can tell me what’s got AJ in a hissy fit, huh? Ink?”

But Ink wasn’t listening. She had caught sight of a certain girl walking down the street, still wearing that same, brightly-colored jacket as before. She could almost hear the pearls of laughter that came with her.

“Ink?” Now Mac had lost his angry tone, for the moment anyway, and had replaced it with one of concern. “Something wrong?”

Ink slowly turned around. She stared at Mac for a second, then looked past, through the windshield. “The driver’s gone,” she said quietly. “And the light’s green.”

Mac whipped around, cursed when he saw she was right, and then floored it, Applejack protesting all the while.

Ink felt a hand touch hers. A squeeze followed. She didn’t need to look to see it was Apple Bloom, silently telling her it was all right, even if both didn’t believe it.

So Ink began to think of other things to fill the time.

She hadn’t been entirely honest with the information she had given Artifex and Adagio yesterday. It was true that Mac and Sugar Belle had left when she had come down… but that wasn’t the only time she had returned to the first floor of the house. She had leaned against the wall that covered the stairs, and had been close enough to catch a snippet of their conversation.

“... and so I’ll be attending Crystal Prep for the year, before going abroad,” Sugar Belle was saying. “My dad gave me his blessing.”

“Is he excited?” Mac replied.

“He… wasn’t as enthusiastic. His baby girl going off into the wider world, even for a massive educational opportunity? Well, that scared him. A lot. And it scares me a little, too, I’ll admit.”

“You’ll be fine, Sugah.”

The way he had said her name... It made Ink feel queasy, thinking about it now.

Sugar Belle had laughed at that. “Well, I’m glad you have faith in me, Big Macintosh. It’s nice to know that hasn’t been completely…”

Her voice had died down then, and so Ink had not heard the last bit of that statement. What followed was a heavy silence, one that she decided, if only to assuage her meager (she insisted) concerns, Sugar Belle was regretting bringing on.

Then Mac said, “But you won’t be stayin’ with yer folks, though, right?”

“No. They’ll be at home, still, in Manehattan. You know, I thought I could stay here…”

Oh no you had better not!

“Can’t. Ink’s stayin’ with us, and we ain’t got another spare room.”

Sugar Belle paused. “I… see. Well, either way, I’ll be staying with a friend. You might remember her. Night Glider? She’s got a sort of, grey-blue complexion? Shock of white hair?”

“I remember her. That’s nice of her, to let you stay.”

“Yes, it is. I’m very thankful. I didn’t want to wind up in Canterlot alone…”

Her voice had fallen again, and so had Mac’s, and it was then that Ink decided she had heard enough; she returned upstairs, and did not come back down until much later, and by then they had already left.

With that memory finished, Ink returned to the present. She blinked, surprised, as the outer walls of Canterlot High rolled past. Mac made a turn left, and drove into the student parking lot. He stopped the car, parked, shut off the engine. The buses were also rolling in.

Applejack got out in a huff, dragging with her her backpack. She didn’t say bye to Mac, nor thanked him for the ride, and said a scant word to either Ink or Apple Bloom before taking off for the horse statue. Apple Bloom was a bit nicer, getting out and giving Mac a hug (and then one to Ink, surprisingly), before heading off, too. Ink was therefore the last to get out.

“Here.” Mac held out a hand. She took it gratefully, and he pulled her out, steadying her as he closed the door and locked it. “Ride wasn’t too bad?”

“No, not really.” She didn’t feel like talking, but with someone like Mac, she couldn’t help but want to speak, even if it was against her better judgement. “Applejack. She…”

“Don’t pay her mind,” Mac said. “The cold makes her cranky.”

How can you be so insightful sometimes and yet so dense, too? Is it because of her? Ink mentally slapped herself; she had to stop thinking such things. It was rude, and demeaning, and… and there she was going again, thinking such things.

“Thanks for the ride here,” she said. Big Mac nodded. She refused to look at him, for fear of her face betraying what she was feeling.

“I’ll… see you later then,” she added. And before he could respond, she quickly marched away.

Her first class was Language Arts, again with Mr. Solil. Some students had switched out by then, opting for easier courses, but Ink and Artifex kept their place, as did most of the class. Mr. Solil did not throw them into work. He knew it was the first day since break, and they would need to refresh their minds a little before they got back to the lessons at hand.

They had been split into groups, Ink with Artifex and two others she didn’t know. As they were pooling over a bit of poetry, Mr. Solil suddenly came up to her. “Ink, could you come out into the hall for a moment?” he said quietly into her ear.

Ink instinctively looked at Artifex. He caught her eye, then nodded, and quickly shuffled so that she could make as much of an inconscpicuous exit as possible. Thankfully, no one looked up as she and Mr. Solil left the room.

“What’s up, Mr. Solil?” she asked once they were outside.

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” he replied. But his voice had lost its characteristic light-heartedness. It was replaced with a somber murmur. Something serious had happened, and Ink was confident in this when Mr. Solil hesitated with his next set of words.

“Mr. Solil?” she prompted.

He looked at her, then. “I… haven’t been privy to a great many details,” he began. “And I’m not going to ask you tell me any, unless you feel comfortable.” He ran a hand over his arm, an action she had seen Artifex do as a sign of nervousness or unease.

Then he took a breath. “The point is… I want you to know that if you feel the workload is too strenuous for you right now, or if you feel the need to leave the class and talk to someone, all you have to do is let me know.”

It took her a moment to realize what he was talking about. Her heart began thundering against her chest. “Oh...” Her voice trailed.

“I can’t imagine what you’re going through,” he murmured. “But… if you need someone to talk to, my door is always open.”

It felt like a long time she found her voice again. “Thank you, Mr. Solil.”

“Of course, Ink.”

Then, spurred by a sudden need, she stepped forward and hugged her teacher. He stepped back, momentarily shocked, and then returned the hug. There were tears gathering in her eyes.

They were quiet for a while before they both decided to return to class.

At lunch, Ink sat once again with Gaige and Hazel. Surrounded by the usual loudness and the familiar sight of friends and students alike, she almost felt like nothing had changed.

When she had sat down, though, she didn’t get a single word in before the two girls reached over and embraced her. Gaige, surprisingly, hugged the hardest, and the longest, for as Hazel let go, she was still there.

“Hey, girls,” Ink said tiredly, managing a smile. “I’m happy to see you both.”

It was then that Gaige let go. Her face was a bit twisted up; Ink realized it was because she wasn’t one for prolonged physical affection. The fact that she went out of her way to do this for her warmed her heart.

“Us, too,” Hazel said. “It feels like a lifetime since we’ve all been together. Here,” she added quickly.

“Yeah…” Ink supposed that was an accurate conclusion. One lifetime had ended, and now a new one had begun. Who was to say where it would lead?

Lunch consisted of mostly talking about everything but the hospital, a fact that Ink was grateful for, but also a fact that left a hole in her heart. They talked at length, first, about Gaige’s hair. Seeing her without pigtails for the second time in a row, Ink still was blown away by it. “You kinda look like a boy,” she said between mild snickers. “Is Flash into little Taiwanese kids now?”

“Baka!” Gaige exclaimed. She bopped Ink on the shoulder. “Listen, just call it, em, a safety precaution. You know, what with that handlebar comment you made all that time ago.”

“Why would you care? It’s not like I’m actually gonna ride you into the ground.”

“N-no, but, well—”

“Flash isn’t a good horseback rider, let’s just say,” Hazel piped in. Gaige threw a spoon at her. Then a fruit cup. Where she got the fruit cup, no one knew, and if she had gotten it legally… (“Of course I got it legally, you idiot!”)

“Oh.” Ink’s face flushed at the implication. “R-right. I didn’t need to know that.”

“Your fault for asking,” Gaige said, retrieving her spoon.

Ink giggled. She regarded Gaige with a careful gaze. “Well, it does look good on you. Think you’ll keep it?”

“No way. I’m just doing this ‘cause Ragga said Jarvy had to put it in. Maybe when he reboots Treble’s story he’ll have me back to pigtails.”

“I’ll pretend that makes sense.” Ink reached out and patted Gaige’s head, like a puppy. “You’ve finally embraced the short-hair look, though. Glad to see you’ve come around.”

“It’s not like you own it or anything! Besides, you’re one to talk. Your hair isn’t even short anymore.”

Ink reached back and felt her hair. It was almost down to her shoulders, the longest it had been in a long time. “Huh. I guess you’re right.”

“Who are you growing it for?” Hazel asked, and before Ink could answer, she continued, “Is it for Mac? I bet it is!”

Clouds rolled across the sky, and the sunlight that had been streaming through the tall cafeteria doors dimmed. The room was dark, and all felt its sudden change. Ink’s eyes glowed their burgundy color in that darkness, and in that color was pain.

“No,” she said, “it’s not for Mac.”

Then she proceeded to tell them what had happened over the last several days. She did so quickly, without extravagance. Simple facts. Mac and Sugar Belle. There. Simple as that. It didn’t hurt. It didn’t hurt.

Hazel was quiet, and, scarily, so was Gaige. They couldn’t look away. The clouds continued rolling and the sunlight returned.

“Ink,” Gaige said quietly.

“It’s fine,” she replied on instinct. “Really, it is. I told Artifex about it on Saturday and then we saw them together and they were—”

Her voice hitched. Damn it! “It’s… It’s fine.”

“It is not fine,” Hazel said. “Girl, that Sugar Belle just straight up stole your man!”

“He’s not my man,” Ink mumbled.

“Like hell he isn’t. Ink, we girls know when one of our friends has the hots for someone that hot. It’s in our nature!”

“I don’t know about about,” Gaige said. “But Hazel’s right. Ink, you like him.”

“Well, what does that matter, if I like or don’t like him?” Ink said right back. “He’s with Sugar Belle now, and she’s making him happy. That’s all there is to it.”

“Ink, you’re shaking.”

She was. And not only that, her hands were clenched together in fists, so tightly she could feel the nails digging deep into her palms. She unclenched them, slowly, and felt that her breathing had quickened.

“Ink,” Hazel said, “it’s okay to be jealous—”

“I’m not jealous of Sugar Belle! Mac and I, we—we’re just friends. He said so.”

But even as she said this, she knew her friends weren’t convinced, for surely they had heard the break in her voice, like the crashing waves against the shore, loud and rough and cutting through her.

“Ink.” Gaige had said this. She had said this and nothing more, and nothing more was needed to be said.

After a while, Ink sighed. She buried her face in her hands. “It’s just… so much has happened so quickly, so much pain… how can I think about being jealous at a time like this?” She sniffled. “Mom needs me to be strong. She doesn’t need me to be petty.”

Then she looked at her friends. “Which is why I’m saying this, and you’re going to allow this: it doesn’t matter. Mac is with Sugar Belle. That’s just how it’s going to be now. It doesn’t matter how I feel, because how I feel is relevant. Okay?”

The two girls glanced at each other; then, they both nodded. “Sure, Ink,” Gaige said. But her eyes were big and sad. “Sure.”

Lock those feelings away. Flee from night and day. Don’t keep them close.

Don’t give them life.

It’s fine. It’s fine.

… so why does it hurt so much?

At the end of the day, Ink left the school alone. Her backpack was in tow, dragged across her shoulders and making her hunch over. Monday had been exhausting. She was thankful that the day was finally over. Now she could head home.

When she saw the light-blue hood of Big Mac’s truck, she felt her heart skip a beat. Had she beaten Applejack and Apple Bloom here? She looked around for him. He didn’t seem to be nearby. She crept a little closer. Maybe he was running late, too—

She heard giggling. These came from the other side of the truck. Ink felt her heart racing. She peered over the edge of the wall that separated the school courtyard from the parking lot.

Sugar Belle.

He’d picked her up early, hadn’t he? Of course he had. Big Mac was just that kind of guy. He’d go out of his way to make life a convenience for you.

Then I’ll make yours convenient, too.

Ink drew away from the wall, from the truck. She counted fifty steps, turned, and saw that she was surely out of their line of sight. She only stopped for a moment, to stare. Then she walked away.

She took out her phone and turned it off, blinking dully at the fading screen. Don’t bother me.

She walked down the street and turned down it. The snow was nearly gone, now. Little tufts of grass and lichen peeked out from the small openings that had melted through. Cars drove past, tires crunching against the mix of gravel and salt. Several students were walking home, and she naturally fell in line with them. They didn’t notice her, and she was happy not to be noticed.

Mac and Sugar Belle flashed in her mind like stilted, choppy images from a projector. First, they were shown on separate slides. Then suddenly, they had come together. One slide was a clear view of that Saturday when she had seen them outside of Sugarcube. It seemed to be talking, too. No, yelling. Yelling for her to move aside, move aside…

“Move aside, please.”

She moved, allowing an older man to walk past. She stared after him. He seemed familiar—slate skin and all. Then he was gone, and she thought of him no longer.

She kept walking. Soon she was at a crossroads, where the pedestrian light was red and where cars and trucks kept roaring past. She was thinking of her mother. She wondered what she might say, if she knew Ink’s situation. Not just with what had happened to her, but also her situation with Mac. What advice might she give? What advice could she give?

But what did that matter? She wasn’t here. She was in the hospital, asleep, but she might as well have been dead…

No, don’t think that, Ink! She shook her head just as the light turned white for them to go, and she crossed over, banishing the thought from her mind.

Her feet continued to carry her while she thought other things. Artifex had been angry. Gaige had been subdued. This wasn’t like them. They had been affected by what she had said of Mac and Sugar Belle. But why? Why would they care? Why would she care?

Why does it hurt?

Abruptly, her feet stop. It was as though they had been issued a command from someone other than her. They had her facing a little home at the end of the street. It took her a moment to realize where she was.

The windows’ binds were open and inside she saw nothing but darkness. The lights had been turned out. The snow on top of the roof looked as though it had been there forever, and it showed no sign of melting. The chimes had been tangled up by some forlorn breeze, wrapped around one of the porch’s posts like grasping fingers, and the music or voice or noise they had made wouldn’t sound again until they were freed.

That fact that her home was this dark, this lonely, unnerved her. She was looking at something she had never imagined before, something that shouldn’t be possible. But here it was. And the impossible had come to pass. And now what was she to do?

She stared at it for an uncountable time, asking herself that silent question, and not receiving any answer. She felt tears gather. She did not wipe them around; there was no one around to judge her for them; and so, she let them fall.

And about, silence reigned supreme. The sun passed over. Then it was dark. Still she stayed.

Then she heard honking, twice, followed by a painfully familiar voice: “Ink!”

She heard the truck pull up behind her. She wiped her face with her sleeve. She didn’t turn around. “Go away, Mac.”

“Ink, listen—”

“I said, go away, Mac. Please.”

“Ink, I’ve been trying to call you for a while. Nurse Golding’s also been trying to get ahold of you.”

That got her attention. She turned around, and did not care that in the passenger’s seat, much to the backseat occupants’ displeasure was Sugar Belle. “What are you talking about, Mac?” Ink asked.

“Get in.” Apple Bloom opened the door and Ink crawled inside. “We have to get to the hospital.”

Her blood ran cold. “Why? Is something wrong?”

Mac glanced back at her. “Ink. Your mother’s awake.”

Author's Notes:

Jarvy quit dragging your stupid fucking story you fucking heathen fuck you

luv u 2 bbys