While I am busy crunching numbers based on my last Student Council meeting, the telephone on my desk rings. I look at it then reach over to answer it by pressing the speakerphone option.

“Yes?” I ask.

“Mr. Button Mash is here to see you,” Scribble Dee announces on speakerphone.

God, she actually sounds like a stereotypical secretary with her nasally voice. I realize that she's going to make a good lap dog for some business tycoon someday.

Nothing wrong with that. I like Scribble Dee. She takes her work seriously, unlike some people around here lately.

I lean back in my seat and tap my lips thoughtfully with a pen in my hand as I think on what she said.

Button Mash . . . here? Why? Could he . . .

I widen my eyes in astonishment.

No! It can't be!

“Does he have an appointment?” I check with Scribble.

“Yes he does, Ma'am. He set it up four days ago,” Scribble reports. “Should I send him in? He says it's urgent, and he is asking to see you specifically.”

“Well if it's urgent, I have no right to stop him, especially since he went through the proper channels. Send him in.”

“Very good, Ma'am. I'll send him in right away.”

I peer at the door to my office at school while continuing to tap my lips thoughtfully with my pen. I am also rocking back and forth in my seat.

In my head, a thousand scenarios rapidly calculate until he arrives and opens my door.

Button Mash opens the door halfway and knocks on it twice. There he pauses, waiting for permission to enter further.

“Come in,” I casually invite him.

Button enters fully. I see him dressed in brown shorts. He's wearing a T-shirt with an image of a puppy dog staring upward with a begging expression. His white tennis shoes strike me as a tiny bit feminine. It makes me wonder if it's a hand-me-down from some female cousin of his.

It's the look on his brown face, though, that really nabs my attention. He looks scared, but also determined. Whatever the reason that drew him here, it took a lot of resolve. That is one reason, among many others, that I am intrigued about this encounter.

“Please,” I gesture to a chair across my desk, “sit down. Make yourself comfortable,” I invite him soothingly, trying my best to ease his tension.

He sits down but remains nervous. I see him wipe his hands through his sweaty orange hair.

“Tell me what's bothering you,” I request kindly. “As an elected official, I'm here to help. How can I serve you today?”

Button Mash is a nervous wreck. This is evident to me in so many ways. For example, I see his left leg idly bouncing up and down rapidly. He looks sweaty and his face is scrunched up in strong worry but also determined focus.

As I observe him, a certain theory as to why this encounter is taking place escalates in odds. If I'm right, there is a strong irony to this situation.

“I want to . . .” he begins but he trails off. I see him squeeze his eyes tight. He seems to be almost panicking.

I realize I need to help defuse this situation. I have to remind myself that, as Student Council President, I have to keep on my “good cop” face.

“Calm down, Button, and take a deep breath. Obviously, something is really bothering you and I want to help, but you have got to tell me what it is first.

“So, before we get to that, just breathe. In . . .” I inhale deeply while waiting for him to copy me, which he does. “. . . and out,” I say as I also expel my breath. I repeat these instructions one more time as he follows me. Doing so visibly decreases his tension level.

“Okay. Let's start over,” I advise. “What is this all about?”

He clenches the edges of his armchair tightly while he winces, then spouts out, “I am being blackmailed by someone named The Shadow Queen.”

I narrow my eyes slightly at him.

So I was right. Time for a little punishment.

Under my desk, I secretly twist my wrist to activate motion tracking. While I use it to bring up an invisible keyboard, I ask him smoothly, “Go on. You said someone is blackmailing you? Who is she, and what did she ask you to do?”

While he speaks, I quickly type up a message under my desk.

“I've been in contact with someone online who calls herself 'The Shadow Queen'. She's some kind of digital hacker who uses information she obtains to force people, like me, to do her favors or else she'll expose us with . . . stuff.”

“That's terrible,” I feign alarm. “Tell me more. How long has this been going on exactly?”

Once I finish my message, I secretly send it to him.

“I think it's fifteen months?” Button guesses. “It's hard to tell. Every time she sends me a text message, it gets erased shortly after I read it. Just 'poof'. It vanishes.”

I look confused. “Only after you read the message? How would she even know you've read them in the first place?”

Button Mash simply shrugs, then checks his phone as it vibrates. After he does, I visibly see the blood drain from his face.

“Is that her?” I ask him.

He looks at me and nods numbly.

“Hand it to me,” I demand. “Let me see it now before it erases.”

He does so, but I, of course, already know what it says. I look at his cellphone screen and pretend to be interested anyway.

The Shadow Queen: You crossed the wrong girl! I TOLD you to leave Cozy Glow to me. Mark my words, you will PAY for your insolence!

I look up at Button Mash with sudden alarm as I ask him, “You received this text message just now?”

Again, he nods numbly. I also see him visibly shaking.

I quickly scramble to pull out my own cellphone from my purse. Using it, I take a picture of the text on his cellphone before it gets erased.

Actually, I manage to take three pictures before the text goes away, erased by the auto program I have on his phone the moment he activates the screen and his own camera registers the fact he looks at it. Once the facial recognition software confirms the fact he saw it, it gets erased ten seconds later.

But, of course, the “heroic” and smart Student Council President manages to preserve a copy before that happens.

I set both phones down and carefully peer out my two windows to the side of the door of my office. Button looks confused and follows my gaze. He's clearly wondering what I'm thinking. When he looks back at me, our eyes meet each other for a moment, then I look down at my desk as I quickly reach for a post-it note, then scribble something down on it.

“I want you to know something, Button,” I say as I write a quick note down. “I take cyber-bullying at my school very seriously. I thank you for bringing this to my attention.”

Having just finished the note, I slide it over to him and non-verbally encourage him to read it immediately.

As he does so, I know he reads the message, “If ‘The Shadow Queen' knows you are talking to me right now, then she probably has this room bugged. Just follow my lead.”

After reading the message, Button Mash looks at me with wide eyes. I give him a shushing motion with a finger to my lips for a moment, then I go on to say openly, “There is, of course, a possibility that this is all just a prank but, just in case it is real, I want you to do something for me.”

I pull out another post-it note and scribble another hidden message.

“I want you to let me and my staff take care of it.”

I slide the message over to him when I am finished. When he reads it, I know it says, “Meet me outside the school gym at 3:00 PM after school. We'll continue this discussion in someplace more private.”

While he reads that, I quickly jot another note down and keep talking at the same time.

“The reason being is I don't want you involved in this issue any further. The health and safety of my fellow students is my chief concern. If it turns out this cyberbully is some sick psycho, I don't want you in further danger. Meanwhile, I will make sure I take the appropriate precautions.”

I slide another note to him. It says, “Bring your bugged cellphone with you, but make sure you turn it off just before you come. Nod to me once if you'll agree to meet me after school.”

I wait for his response, to which he looks back and nods. He also smiles a bit. My subtle tactics in communicating with him boost his confidence in me, which is precisely where I need his mindset at this moment.

I collect my hands in front of my face as I rest my elbows on my desk. During this time, I peer at Button Mash sharply. “I need you to understand something, Button Mash. I will not rest until I get to the bottom of this mystery. If someone is threatening you and making you feel uncomfortable at this school, then that person is now my enemy. On this, you have my word. Now may I have your word that you'll leave this issue to me?”

For a moment Button does not know what to do or say until I silently nod to him, then he says, “Ah . . . sure. I think I can do that.”

“Good,” I reply. “Leave this issue up to the professionals.

“In the meantime, if you get any more texts from this bully, do me a favor and ignore them. I'll get this issue resolved before she can do any more harm to you, the rest of your fellow students, or anyone else you care about.

“Again, I thank you for bringing this to my attention. For now, you are dismissed. Just go back to class and take care of your own business. We'll take over from here.”

“Sure.” Button stands up. “Thank you for hearing me out. I feel a lot better.”

“That's what I'm here for.” I stare at him with a hidden dark glint in my eyes. “You have nothing more to worry about. I’ll take care of everything.”

“Here you go,” I say as I arrive at the prearranged destination. I find Button Mash is already there, waiting for me on a bench on the outside of the gym. When he looks at me, I hand him an apple juice carton. “I bought this for you. I hope you like it.”

He checks it, then his eyes light up. “Apple juice?! Thank you!” he cheers. “This is one of my favorites.”

“Huh.” I sit down next to him and pull out an orange soda from my purse. As I open it, I say, “Lucky guess, I suppose.”

Not really. I watch his YouTube channels enough to know what his drink is. Button Mash has made that abundantly clear. He should be a sponsor for the darn thing.

But I'll let him think that I got “lucky”.

He stabs a straw into the juice carton then takes a long sip. When he's done, he gives a long, satisfying sigh.

“Thanks,” he says gratefully. “I needed that.”

“I figured you did,” I agree. I take a sip of my own soda, then speak to him again. “Thanks for coming, and thank you for your discretion. I really am grateful that you brought this issue to my attention.”

“Do you really think your office is bugged?” he asks me in horrified awe.

“It's a distinct possibility,” I tell him as I look forward at nothing in particular. “How else did this 'Shadow Queen' know you were talking to me? She apparently sent you that text message mere moments after you confessed your involvement with her.”

Button looks down sadly. “Don't get me wrong. I am grateful to finally have an ally in this cause, but . . . you have no idea what it cost me.”

“What does she have over you, anyway?” I ask him in concern as I turn my head to look at him to my left side.

Button shakes his head. “It's not me, it's my mom. She has . . . um . . . pictures of my mom that might get her in trouble with work.” He sighs in frustration. “I'd rather not say anything more about that.”

“Huh.” I look forward. “I wonder how she got those pictures.”

“Maybe photoshopped?” Button guesses. “Or perhaps she blackmailed some other poor sap to gather dirt on my mom. For all I know, she has an entire web of minions working under her disposal to dig dirt on each other in order to keep them in line.”

BINGO! We have a winner here, ladies and gentleman!

I feel like applauding him, but of course, I don't. I can't blow my cover.

“In regards to that,” I look back at him. “I have a plan. Despite what I said to you in my office, I want you to contact this 'Shadow Queen' and attempt to appease her.”

He looks at me in confusion. “But you said-”

“I know what I said in my office! I said that because I figured she was eavesdropping on us. I figured I needed to feed her false information now that I know she's listening.”

Button widens his eyes at me in realization. “Oh! I get it now! Man, you are clever!”

Despite my sitting down position, I set my soda aside for a moment and curtsy to him a bit. “I'm not a certified genius for nothing.

“Anyway, as I was saying, despite what I said in my office, I want you to contact her soon and pretend to appease her. Tell her something like . . . oh, I don't know . . . that you said all those things in my office to try to win my trust.”

“Win your trust?” Button lifts an eyebrow at me.

“Look.” I focus on him sharply. “Obviously she's interested in me for some reason. Likely it's because of my position as Student Council President, or perhaps this hacker is interested in manipulating my mother.” I rub my chin. “She is the school principal of Canterlot High, after all.”

“Why should I try to appease her? She already knows I betrayed her.”

“Yes, but if she uses the evidence she's gathered against your mom, she loses leverage to manipulate you any further. She can only use that weapon against you once, which is why I’m willing to bet that she hasn’t done it yet.

“If I was her,” which I am, of course, “I think she'd pause and reassess her strategy. If she's as smart as I think she is, she'll see your attempted treachery as a potential opportunity. Your treachery notwithstanding, your foot is in the door in my office, and that is key to winning her renewed interest in you.

“I think her first instinct would be to try to find other kinds of evidence against you in order to try to gain control over you again unless you suddenly seem to lose your nerve and try to cooperate with her again. Then she'd look at you and think, 'Huh. Maybe my previous leverage against him is enough after all. I don't need to gather, or create, more dirt on him.

“‘As it stands, I can use his actions to turn the tide to my favor, as long as he cooperates,' is probably what she’d say to herself.”

“I see!” He looks away as he agrees excitedly, “This could work!” He looks back at me in concern. “However . . . how long do I maintain this charade?”

“For now, we're just buying ourselves time,” I advise him. “If she tests your loyalty by telling you to take other pictures and such then do so. We have to protect your mom!” As I say that, I also pat his right knee. “She's an innocent victim in this. We can't let this bully harm her.”

“But the things she'll tell me to do will dig dirt on someone else,” Button said with a frown. “I can't do that anymore. It's not right!”

“That evidence won't matter once we unmask her,” I reassure him. “As I said, we're only buying ourselves time. Time we'll use to try to find out who she is. Once we expose her, she won't be able to threaten anyone else anymore, so the dirt you uncover for her won't matter in the long run.”

“OH!” He widens his eyes in delight. “I get it now!”

YES! Dance for your Queen, my little imbecile! Now you're working for both sides of me as Cozy and The Shadow Queen. I’ll get twice as much value from you with half the paycheck. That shall be your punishment for your attempted treachery.

“Tell me,” I lean against the outside gym wall behind me, “what did she command you to do recently?”

After I ask, I take another sip of my soda.

Button Mash collects his hands together in front of his face as he glares forward with a focused look. His elbows are on his thighs and he hangs his collected hands downward.

“She wanted me to talk to Sweetie Belle about Diamond Tiara,” he answers.

“Diamond Tiara?” I echo. “Hmm.” I look thoughtful. “Diamond is one of my staff members. Maybe the Shadow Queen is trying to dig dirt up about Tiara. Once she has that, maybe she was planning on putting Tiara in her pocket so that she can use Diamond to go after a bigger fish. Namely, me.”

I look outward.

“Although . . . both Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon's family are very wealthy. They might be a prize unto themselves,” I muse aloud further.

I look back at Button.

“You said you worked for this Shadow Queen for some fifteen months? Why did you wait so long before coming to me?”

Button looked down in regret as he said, “Because I was afraid of her. I didn't want her to hurt my mom.”

I squint at him in confusion as I ask, “In that case, why change your mind now? If she still has leverage over your mom, why did you finally come to me?”

A look of anger burns in Button's eyes as he says, “Because it's now apparent to me that she's trying to gather dirt on Sweetie Belle as well, and I can't stand that!”

“Sweetie Belle?” I raise an eyebrow at Button. “Do you like her or something? As in like-like her?”

He suddenly seems morose as he looks away from me. “Sweetie Belle and I . . . are not seeing each other anymore.”

I cock my head at him as I ask, “But you used to?”

He nods.

“But you still care for her?”

“More than anything!” he exclaims as he looks back at me. “Sweetie Belle is . . . well, for lack of a better term, sweet. She's like an angel!” His eyes glaze in a dreamy way.

“So,” I lift an eyebrow further up, “let me get this straight. You care for her, but she doesn't care for you? Why not? What's so wrong about you?”

He looks down and pouts. When it becomes evident to me that he won't easily give up this information, I realize I need to do some prying.

“Hey!” I pretend to realize. “Wait a second! I think I've seen you before! Aren't you the one who has the YouTube channel 'Button Plays'?”

He looks at me suspiciously. “What? You didn't know that? I thought everyone at school knew that.”

I shrug as I say, “I guess I hang around different social cliques.

“Anyway, I think I do finally recognize you, but I only watched some of your earlier videos. Back then you were as cute as a button, if you’ll pardon the pun. You were a goofy-looking kid who wore a spinning propeller, multi-color hat, if memory serves me.”

Button blushes shyly but also fondly.

“Come to think of it,” I press on as I put a folded finger to my chin, “didn't Sweetie Belle used to play video games with you back then?”

Button gains a bittersweet smile lightly touching his lips. He says with sincerity and rich emotion, “That was one of the best times of my life.”

“Then . . . Why did she stop? What happened between you?”

Now this question stems from genuine curiosity. This is something I wanted to know for a long time now.

I do have my suspicions. I just want to see if he confirms them.

He sighs as he looks down sadly. For a moment I grow afraid that I've pushed him too far and he won't cooperate, but then he says, “I . . . confessed my feelings for her at one time. I told her I want her to be my very special somebody.”

“I take it she said no?”

Button Mash closes his eyes in pain as he admits, “Not only that, she never spoke to me again.”

He looks at me with pain in his eyes. “I don't get it. Sweetie Belle and I had such chemistry together. She truly did seem to have the time of her life playing with me as well. I thought she was interested in being my girlfriend too, but when I offered . . . not only did she turn me down, but she never spoke to me again.”

He placed his hands on his chest. “Is it me? Did I do something wrong? Was I too pushy to her? Did I hurt her feelings?”

He closes his eyes and yells in frustration, “WHY DO GIRLS HAVE TO BE SO DAMN COMPLICATED?!”

After a five second pause, I check, “Are you really asking me?”

He looks down, sighs, shrugs, then says, “Not really, no, but you can answer if you want to.”

I gaze in my forward direction as I sip my soda for a few seconds, then set it down as I sigh. “I heard that what men know about women wouldn't fill a single page, let alone an entire book.” I look back at him. “But, to be honest, women don't know much more about themselves than men do. There is a reason we are complicated, and being us doesn't make those answers much clearer.”

I look down at my lap as I idly swing my legs under the bench. Since I'm sitting far back on the bench, I am barely short enough to do so.

I love my petite little body! It's so cute!

“What I can tell you about what women know of themselves is . . . Well, actually, a better term is what women sense about themselves.”

I look ahead and cross my arms across my chest.

“Females connect with each other more on an instinctual and emotional level. We simply feel a connection to each other. We look at our own kind, nod and think, 'Yeah. You understand me. You get it. You know what a literal bleeding pain it is to be one of us. Stay strong, sister, and keep the course.'

“However, on a rational level, we are just as confused about ourselves as the men are, so it's not a wonder to us why men are even more confused about us than we are. At least we share an emotional connection to ourselves, but an outsider looking inward at the situation would be totally lost.”

I look at Button as I reach a hand to pat his lap reassuringly as I say, “I want you to know that I realize it’s not your fault. We really are very complicated. If you could walk a mile in our skirts, you'd see why.”

I lift one of my arms and bend my pointing finger as it touches my lips.

“On an intellectual level, which is my preferred method of understanding the world, I know a few reasons why we're so complicated. Part of it has to do with biology.”

I shift my eyes sharply to him as I ask, “I don't have to explain to you about a female's reproductive cycles and how it works, right?”

Button shakes his head. In fact, he vigorously shakes his head no. Apparently this is a subject he'd rather avoid.

Yeah. Join the club.

My gaze shifts forward again.

“So yeah, that's part of it. So much shifting chemistry goes through our bodies that it can make many components of us turn turbulent, to say the least. None of that is your fault. That's just how our bodies work.

“The second rational reason that I know of which explains why we are so complicated is sociological.”

My hand drops down and crosses over my chest again.

“From what I understand, females are just too eager to please, so they change themselves into however they perceive is socially acceptable. Whatever their society defines as pretty or beautiful, so shall we be. We are also carefully evaluating other qualities like smart or dumb or lazy or childish or anything else, really. We conform ourselves to whatever will most likely prevent social rejection, which is our secret number one fear.”

I look straight up.

“Perhaps this isn’t the case with all women. This world is complicated enough to have an exception to every rule, but otherwise this one is pretty cut and dry. We can't stand the thought of social rejection. It terrifies us to the core, so we do whatever we can to appease everyone else in order to prevent this catastrophe.”

I smile at him then affectionately pat his lap again. “So congratulations, Button Mash. Maybe 'mankind’ doesn't know much about women, but you do, now, at least if you were paying attention to me.”

“Oh, I was,” Button assures me. “But I still don't get it. What does all of that have to do with why Sweetie Belle rejected me? What did I do wrong?”

I shrug as I confess, “It’s probably nothing to do with you. The fault may lie within her. Maybe she wanted to say yes but something else held her back. As for why she's continued to avoid you since, I have a firmer finger on this one. I think she's avoided you ever since for your sake.”

“Me?!” he double-checks in intense surprise.

“Yes,” I confirm. “It's just a guess, mind you, but I think she avoided you because she was afraid it would hurt your feelings otherwise. Every second she'd spend in your company might remind you of the time you got rejected.”

I look forward as I realize I can actually sympathize with that rather strongly.

“She couldn't stand the thought of her presence torturing you,” I go on, “so she opted to avoid you entirely.

“As the years went by, it simply became a habit. As walls build up, one gradually forgets what it was like when those walls weren't there. Right now I think it's a habit, but back then . . .”

I hear Button sniffle. I look at him and notice that he's crying a bit.

“Do you think any part of her misses me?” he asks me with a cracked voice due to the intensity of his emotions.

“That is the silver lining that I can foresee here in this situation. I think the answer is very likely yes,” I admit honestly.

“Really?” Button asks me with so much rising hope that it honestly does make my heart feel mushy.

I nod to him. “Deep down, I think she wonders if you miss her, too, and she's hoping the answer is yes.”

I sigh as I look down at my lap.

“One thing I do know about being a girl is we get very emotionally attached to things, even if it hurts us. Most of us struggle to let go. Very few of us succeed in totally severing strong emotional attachments, even if it really pisses us off!”

Like my relationship with Little Miss Prissy! I still can't wait to tear her heart out!

“We think about such things all the time, even if we don't like to admit it. We hate feeling vulnerable, yet we feel that way all the time. That's just . . .” I shrug. “I don't know. There could be all sorts of reasons. Likely there are plenty mixed in together.”

I look back at him.

“My point is, if you shared a very special bond with her before . . . if you know for sure in your heart that her laughter and delight in her eyes was genuine . . . then I almost guarantee you that she hasn't figured out how to let you go, even if part of her strongly wanted to all these years. It's just that . . . once those strings of emotion are connected to our hearts, we really don't know how to shake them off. That's part of our vulnerability, but there are advantages to it too.”

“So you honestly think I have a shot with Sweetie?” Button asks with a much stronger glow of hope.

“I advise caution!” I strongly warn him. “After all, we don't know why she rejected you in the first place. Until that issue is resolved, you have no shot at getting under her skirt.”

He squints in disgust at me. “I don't want to rape her! I love Sweetie Belle! I always have!”

“Then be patient and careful with her,” I advise. “You might have a shot at becoming friends with her again, but don't push your luck beyond that point until she signals that she's ready. Until then just . . . just be with her. Listen to her. Encourage her. Tell her you miss her. Tell her you want to be her friend again and you won't go any further than that unless she wishes it.”

I pick up and squeeze one of his hands.

“Make her feel your affection. Make her feel special. All girls want to feel that way.”

“Including you?” Button checks.

I grin at him sharply then admit, “Put it this way. I haven't given a serious relationship much thought before because of how busy I am with my own personal ambitions, but I already know one thing about myself. If I was in a serious relationship, I know for a fact that I'd be a very high maintenance girl. I'm talking about flowers, chocolates, kisses, schmaltzy complements, the works. If anyone is going to be my boyfriend, then he'd better treat me like a Queen as if every day is Valentine's Day.

“In addition, I'd almost demand nearly constant reassurance that I'm the most important girl in his life.

“I may not seem like this because I try very hard to hide this fact, but I'm secretly very insecure, so I'd need that constant reassurance.”

I'm not lying.

For a moment, I wonder why I'm being that honest with him, then I recall the fact that I'm trying to win his trust. Sometimes the truth can be just as effective, if not more so, as a clever lie.

I grin to myself as I realize that, although I would most likely be a high maintenance girl, the would-be boyfriend would get a strong return on his investment. Since I'm the one who will one day rule the world, he's actually getting a pretty sweet deal.

“Well, from what I can see, you'd make all that effort worth it,” Button tells me with a fond smile at me.

Which actually makes me blush. I am surprised how profound that complement feels. It also made me realize that Button is a pretty charming fellow in his own way.

I decide to return the compliment.

“And I'm sure you'd make your girlfriend the luckiest girl in the world,” I tell him with another affectionate pat on his hand.

He looks away from me for a second, then looks back with a thoughtful look. “So wait a second. You want me to convince the Shadow Queen that I'm attempting to . . . what . . . woo you or something?”

Damn it, I blush again! He's like a sneak attack love ninja!

But I also shake my head.

“No. What I said is for you to convince her that you are winning my trust, not my heart. That's overkill. Besides,” I wave him off, “I think she's convinced that you have the hots for Sweetie. She'd find it suspicious if you suddenly changed targets and aimed under my skirt all of the sudden.”

He shook his head fiercely. “For the last time, I'm not trying to rape any of you. I'm trying to love you. There is a difference. Either path could lead to sex, but one of them doesn't have to. Even if it does, it's for a totally different reason.”

He looks away with a dreamy expression.

“I want my girlfriend to feel like she is the most special person in the world, because she is to me. I want to be the reason she has such intense joy in her life. I want her to be happy and feel fulfilled, even if I'm not part of her life because, to me, her happiness is all that matters to me.”

I can't believe what I am hearing. Affection without expecting a return on investment? I can't accept that. He must be lying to me.

I got to admit, though, it does sound really romantic. I can feel my heart aflutter at those words despite my disbelief.

Wow! I might have underestimated this guy. Good to know. It means he's even more of a useful resource to me than I previously calculated. I'll adjust my math accordingly to parallel my enhanced perception of him.

“I'll make things easier for you,” I propose. “You and I should hang out more after school. If the Shadow Queen somehow spots us, she'll think you're trying to get information out of me. As long as you feed that to her, that should shut her up which, in turn, means your mom should remain safe. Meanwhile the real reason we'll hang out at date spots like movies or a dinner is to discuss plans on how to unravel this mystery. We'll work to expose this criminal together.”

“Shouldn't we go to the police with this information?” Button suggests. “It seems to me this person is responsible for half a dozen crimes already.”

I shake my head vigorously. “What exactly are we going to tell the police? You have no evidence yet.

“Well, I do since I took a picture of your text, but the rest of yours deleted themselves.

“Plus, who are they going to arrest? They won't know who the culprit is any more than we do.”

“That's true,” Button agrees reluctantly.

I lean back, look forward, and tap my head against the wall behind me.

“There's another problem as well. If the police start poking around at our school, the most likely response is this hacker will just go further underground.”

“Isn't that a good thing, in a way? Sure, she won't pay for her previous crimes, but if she goes underground then that might mean she's no longer hurting anybody either.”

“That's shortsighted of you in two ways.

“Number one, there's no guarantee she'll remain low. Once the police investigation blows over, she may rise back with a vengeance. I can't risk the fact that someone might get physically harmed next time. I'd be especially concerned for your safety if it seems as if you are the one who put the police on her tail.

“Number two, have you ever considered the fact that Sunset Shimmer was one of her most recent victims?”

Button's eyes burst open widely, then he admits, “NO! I HAVEN'T!” He looks suddenly thoughtful. “But now I am. It all makes sense! I know Sunny. It actually turns out I played with her online for quite a long time.”

“Really?” I ask in feigned surprise.

He nods in confirmation. “I just found that out last month. That was a shocker. It turns out she had her own YouTube channel called 'Girl_Gamer_Rocks'.”

I smile as I say, “Heh, I like that name! It's kind of catchy, and it shows that girls can be every bit as capable as men at video games.”

“She proved it! She literally has tons of video evidence of that!” Button says proudly.

“Anyway,” he goes on with an obvious change of subject in this tone, “why do you think the hacker went after Sunset Shimmer? She didn't just threaten Sunny, she sent her to jail with obviously fake evidence. Sunset would never do that to her students! She'd not even think that!”

“THANK YOU!” I exclaim at him strongly and sincerely. “Finally I find one of my fellow students willing to give Sunny the benefit of the doubt.”

“Sunny didn't give me that much of a choice. It makes me sick to my stomach that people are still treating her like a demon! She did that one time but it's as if she purged it from her system, because she's been nothing but a saint ever since.”

Real tears rise to my eyes. I lift up one of his hands to my lips and kiss it, then press my face against it affectionately. This really catches him off guard and probably also weirds him out, but I don't care. In the rare times I get hyper-emotional, I just have to let those feelings pour out of me.

“Thank you so much!” I cry into his hand. “You have no idea how much it hurts me when I hear others talk shit about Sunny! I have never encountered a more compassionate angel incarnate than her. Her friends come close, including my mother, but Sunny is . . . radiant.”

Button Mash's newfound understanding for the reasons behind my emotions makes it much easier for him to forgive my actions. In fact, he's now deeply sympathetic.

So much so that he crawls closer and hugs me to my side.

I do not resist. Instead, I sob into his shoulder. Explosive emotions that have been building in my chest are released like a crack in the dam.

The way Button Mash squeezes me in comfort makes me feel warm and safe. I grow surprised to find a sudden glow of tender affection start to grow for him because of this one action alone. It demonstrates that he really cares about me and also deeply sympathizes with my feelings about Sunny. He must have been hurting about this too, and I appreciate noticing that. It makes my emotions feel validated.

Finally, I don't feel alone.

When the moment passes fifteen minutes later, I feel drained, but not severely enough for my sharp intellect to sink away. Instead, it's merely reduced a bit.

“You're right,” Button finally says to me. “We have to do this investigation ourselves or else the culprit might slink away. If that happens, we might lose our chance to find the evidence we need to vindicate Sunny. So, from now on, we're not just protecting those she might victimize later, we're fighting to save those she has already harmed and is continuing to harm.”

“Exactly,” I agree.

“Who do you think would benefit from Sunny's arrest?”

I sniff, still trying to recover. I pull out my inhaler and breathe that in. That helps expand my collapsed lungs and chest. I answer after I expel that breath.

“The way I see it, it might go one of two ways.

“Number one, maybe the culprit tried to blackmail Sunny but, like you, she had too much integrity and the culprit badly underestimated that.”

I'll give you that much credit, Button Mash. That much is actually true, but for some reason, I respect you all the more for it.

“Maybe Sunset was about to come forward with the evidence she had. Fearing the worst, the culprit planted false evidence on her computer somehow to get her out of the way once and for all. Now, no matter how much she whines and complains in jail, Sunset Shimmer lost too much credibility for almost anyone to seriously listen to her.

“But there is another angle to look at here.

“Number two, Sunset Shimmer was never blackmailed, she was framed because someone personally feared her and her Horse-Land magic.”

“Oh yeah!” Button realizes. “In fact, Sunny wasn't born human at all. Unlike all of her friends who also use magic, Sunset Shimmer is the only one who was born a horse in . . . um, it's called 'Equestria', my dear.”

I wave him off. “I know that. I just prefer to call it 'Horse-Land'.”

He shrugs carelessly and says, “Whatever. To each, their own.”

“I’m afraid that Sunny is only the beginning, too,” I announce in feigned fear. “She simply might be the first victim because, like you said, Sunny was the only one of her friends who wasn't truly human.

“Nevertheless, she's only the first piece of the dominos to get knocked over, at least if this sinister villains' plans come to fruition. Pinkie Pie, Applejack, Rarity, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, and my mother might be the culprit’s next victims. I can't say for sure which order she'll follow, but if she's already making moves against Diamond Tiara, it might be to get to me. Once she has leverage over me, she'll try to use it to blackmail my mother. If I were her, I'd use that hold over my mother to undo her other friends and then take my mother out.”

Just saying that makes me shudder. I know I'm bullshitting the hell out of him right now, but that thought still unsettles me anyway. If anyone out there has this plan for real, I would use everything in my power to blast the offender to oblivion.

“I guess there were a lot of people who were unusually aggressive against Sunny during that awful press conference,” Button realizes. “Those people were probably afraid of her and were pleased at a chance to chew her out at last.”

I shake my head as I say, “I can believe that even if they weren't the direct culprits. This world will always have small-minded bigots who can't see beyond their own faces.”

“True,” Button agrees sadly, then looks at me with determination. “Which is why the world also needs us!”

“Indeed,” I agree, “but keep it between us for now. We can't be certain who else might be involved with the Shadow Queen. Even if they are victims, they still might report our actions if we let anyone else into this circle. Never underestimate fear. It can be a powerful weapon.”

“Believe me, I experienced that first hand for fifteen months. I'm so ashamed that I did not do this much sooner, but I desperately want to protect my mom.”

I smile at him softly. “You're a good man, Button Mash. Be proud of that.”

He gives me a halfhearted smile. “Good? Yes. Brave? Unfortunately, not that much.”

I lift my eyebrow at him as I ask, “Did it take you courage to confess your involvement to me?”

“Um . . . yes.”

I grab his shirt and suddenly yank him close as if I am going to kiss him, but instead I give him a hard look in his eyes.

For two reasons, he's caught off guard by this.

“Then listen to me closely!” I say in a demanding tone. “Don't ever forget that, Button Mash! You came to me because you loved someone so dearly that you risked everything to confess your involvement. As a reward for that bravery, I will now fight by your side.”

And, ironically, I’ll fight against you at the same time. You still have no idea you're actually talking to the culprit right now, and I’ll make sure you remain ignorant of that fact.

Button Mash waves goodbye to me strongly and gratefully before he takes off. Unlike the first time he stepped into my office earlier today, Button Mash bounds away from me with newfound confidence in his steps because he realizes that he finally has an ally that he can trust. Finally he feels like his life is back on track. Finally he can feel the weight of many moons of pressure melting off his back. He's taking a stand for what he believes in.

I've known him to be brave to a degree for years when it comes to video games, but I'm surprised as hell how much that strength transferred to real life. I thought he lived a sheltered and deluded life because of his lifestyle which is skewed from reality. Who knew how strong he could actually be?

I even suspect he surprised himself today.

And now, finally, he has given me what I secretly wanted. It turns out he already did hang out with Sweetie Belle a bit, and he managed to squeeze one bit of information from her about Diamond Tiara. I already knew that Diamond practiced bulimia nervosa, but now that I have a more legitimate source of information of that fact, I can finally confront Diamond about it and force my way into her life.

Once I start worming my way into her inner social circles, I'll corrupt it from the inside. All the while, I'll make myself look like her only hero and friend.

It's the beginning of the end for you, Little Miss Prissy!

Checkmate! Game set and match! Now I can finally advance my plans to the next phase.

Oh god! I've waited so long to tell myself that!

Unexpectedly, a message pops up on the hidden screen side of my augment reality glasses.

Dark King: GOOOOD! The next phase of your vengeance is nigh.

Dark King: The poor fool doesn't even know how far he's entangled in your shadowy web.

Dark King: Bear this in mind always. Use your minions only as long as they are useful, then discard them.

I gasp in astonishment.

Oh SHIT! That dream was REAL?!

Ten seconds later, Dark King's text erases itself.

Next Chapter: Chapter Twenty One: Rarity Investigates Estimated time remaining: 11 Hours, 15 Minutes