Moondancer didn't understand the book. No, that wasn't quite right—he knew trash when he saw it, and this was unmitigated garbage—but understanding how anypony could call this the 'highest form of literature' was beyond him. The science wasn't. It was fantasy that stole the coat of grounded and well-researched science, put it on backwards, and pretended it fit. In fact, Moondancer had kept track of every inaccuracy he found, writing summarized descriptions of why and how each one failed to stand up to the rigors of pony knowledge. He found it fun.

Anonymous hadn't asked him to be forgiving to the book, or fair. All he wanted was for Moondancer to read it and share his thoughts. Well, he was going to get them. Moondancer doubted he'd be able to suffer through the lurid details Posie Prose slipped between nonsensical descriptions and actions without his inked screed. And there was so much talking, all of it inane! Posie spent two pages on a conversation about the proper way to assemble a haydog. Really. He skimmed over that noise—skimmed over most of the noise, really, and skipped the smut. He was glad to be done by the second night of reading.

He waited at his favorite table, watching ponies come up and go down the stairs, excited. He had a hefty stack of note-sheets clamped together, sliding the awful book around on the desk in idleness as he waited for Anonymous to get here. It had been several days, so the pegasus should be here soon—and there he was.

Anonymous trotted towards Moondancer with springing steps and fluttering wings, wearing a nice smile. Moondancer didn't know what to make of his enthusiasm. Cautious optimism seemed safe. Moondancer smiled at Anonymous with condescension, rapping his hooves on his formidable, thirty-page thesis on just how dumb Sleeping Beneath the Stars was, "You seem—"

"Harmony Lost was awesome!" Anonymous flounced into a chair and pulled the book out; it had grown many colorful tags that fluttered in the air as he shook it, "I can't believe a nerd like you would read something so—so moving!" He shushed back at the peeved ponies around him, but lowered his voice anyways, "It's one of the best books I've ever read."

Moondancer's optimism threw caution to the wind. He blinked away his surprise and replaced it with well-deserved smug, "I'm surprised you were able to understand it, much less enjoy it."

Anonymous flipped a hoof, leaning over the table, "Woolly did a good job of using analogies to keep me from getting too lost in the technobabble. But all the science-y mumbo-jumbo—"

"It is not mumbo-jumbo. Dr. Nebulebray and I could tell you that—"

"—shut up, Moondancer—all that crap isn't even the point. This is the best tragic romance I've ever read."

He missed what Anonymous said next. Moondancer looked at him like he'd grown a second head. Tragic romance? Did they even read the same book? It was a war story—the best war story written to date. Possibly ever.

"—And so when Princess Narcissa couldn't overcome her vanity, that just made Orion Star's sacrifice all the more poignant—"

"What are you talking about? It's not a romance novel. It's military sci-fi. It's about the war between the Empire of Echoes and the Terra Resistance—"

"What are you talking about? Did you not read the book? The war was commentary on tribal politics, a conceit to justify Orion's one-sided romance for Princess Narcissa, although it wasn't boilerplate dribble by any means. Why do you think the last chapter was just the last transmission Princess Narcissa sent Orion Star before he betrayed her and rammed the cockpit of her flagship, killing her and ending the war?"

"Second-to-last chapter. I always skipped it, anyways. It wasn't relevant to the plot, and frankly, ramming a ship into another in space is just—"

Anonymous growled, standing up from his chair and pushing his face against Moondancer's "An epilogue isn't—it was the plot! Did we even read the same fucking book?!"

Moondancer retreated, ears flat, "Apparently not. You must've read some crap from your own library by accident. Harmony Lost is speculative science-fiction on what the future of ponykind might look like if we devolved again into distinct tribes, yes, but had advanced far enough that each tribe had their own spacefaring technology! You can see the love and care Woolly Words put into every faction's technology, with extensive research and triple-checked math. He actually understands how much fuel and food and crew it'd take to command a ship, unlike Posie Prose's hoof-waved horseapples! They didn't have even enough fuel for a round-trip! They were doomed from the start!"

"You can shove your math up your ass! Both books are about the characters and their relationships. Both were all about ponies loving each other! How could you miss that? Do you… do you not understand other ponies?"

His voice went quiet, "Is this why you have no friends?"

Moondancer stood up and pressed back against Anonymous, pushing him into his chair, horn sparking, "I don't need friends, that's why I don't have any! I don't need friends to study! I don't need friends to do research! I don't need friends to be happy!"

"You both need to leave." Quiet Time's stern voice cut the argument down.

Moondancer realized that he had been shouting. All around him were angry ponies, glaring. He hissed at Anonymous, who looked lost, "This is your fault."

Anonymous got off his chair with a "sorry" and walked off down the stairs. Moondancer grimaced at his pile of notes he had made for Anonymous and magicked them into the recycling bin, slinging his saddlebags on and trotting off with flushed ears. He endured everypony's stares as he left.

Anonymous waited for him outside, leaning against the library garden's stone retaining wall. He trotted up to Moondancer, wearing a frown, probably a fake one, "Dude, I—I'm sorry, I didn't know. About your, uh..."

Moondancer walked right past, but he followed. Moondancer kept his eyes straight ahead, "Know about my what?"

"Er, you know, your… because you don't get, uh, other ponies?"

"What are you talking about? I understand other ponies just fine. In fact, that understanding is why I know I don't have any need for them."

"You do? So you can read facial expressions and stuff? You know what 'ears down' means?"

Moondancer met Anonymous' eyes, "What kind of question is that? I'm not a foal!"

Anonymous looked away, "Well, like, it's good if you can. That stuff can be hard when you have a… disability."

"Disability!?"

"Or maybe it's a disorder? I'm pretty sure it's not a disease. Wait, is disability offensive? Look, man, I didn't mean to be—"

"I am NOT disabled!" Moondancer threw his side into Anonymous', pushing him away, "And if you're just going to insult me, then fuck off."

Moondancer cantered away. Anonymous caught up with a flap of his wings, keeping pace, "Okay, okay, you're not the D-word, my bad. I'm, uh, I'm still sorry though. Hey, stop."

"What for?"

"You were supposed to tell me what you thought of Sleeping Beneath the Stars."

Moondancer snorted, "I wrote an essay on every stupid thing in the book. You can go dig it out of the paper bin in the library if you really care. I'm not going to waste my time telling you how it was the worst thing I'd ever read."

"Why did you throw it out? Shit, dude, you could've at least, like, thrown it at me or something." Anonymous sped up and cut Moondancer off, forcing him to stop at a fork on the quad, shielded from the afternoon sun by large sycamores, "I seriously wasn't trying to piss you off back there. I—"

"You called me a disabled, friendless loser to my face, right? That's definitely what you tell ponies when you're trying to be nice to them."

"I didn't call you a loser, dude."

Moondancer scowled, "Whatever." He tried to step around Anonymous, but he spread his wings and side-stepped to keep blocking Moondancer. He closed his eyes and growled, "What were you trying to do, then, if not insult me?"

"I thought I was about to have a good conversation about a book I liked! But then you got all nerdy on me and started talking about nerd shit and I'm like, 'did we even read the same book?', because it sure didn't feel like it!"

"And now we're back to this. No, I'm done." Moondancer stepped forward, but Anonymous refused to move. They pressed chest to chest, "Get out of my way."

"You'd really rather take a hit to your grade than be friends with me, huh?"

"If I could get points for punting you with my magic as far as I could, I'd have a GPA above four." Moondancer stepped around Anonymous and headed for his dorms.

Anonymous trotted up to his side, "Why don't you understand other ponies?"

"Assuming I don’t—which I do—why do you care?"

"Because you're fucking weird, bro."

"Insult me some more. That'll work!"

Moondancer quickened his pace, and Anonymous kept it, "Just answer the question."

"I have no reason to talk to you, jerk. How am I supposed to use reference materials now that I'm kicked out of the library? Quiet Time has probably banned me. The rest of this semester is going to suck, and it's all your fault."

"Look, I'm sorry, but like, I didn't know you were…"

Moondancer broke into a canter. Anonymous kept pace, "Ugh, ignore that. Hang out with me!"

"No!"

"Why?"

"You're the second-biggest jerk I've ever met!"

"Second? No, that's not important. I'm trying to be friendly, here! Don't you want a friend?"

Moondancer came to a stop outside the entrance to the residence hall he was staying at, "I don't need friends. I already told you this!"

"What about your grade?"

"I don't care about my grade anymore, because somepony just got me banned from the library. This semester's shot." Moondancer entered the building, and Anonymous followed him, "Go away!"

"But we could have fun together!"

"I have no interest in bars, parties, drugs, sex, or any other ways you debase yourself. Stop following me."

They entered the stairwell, Anonymous neck to neck with Moondancer, "We don't have to do any of that, we can do something you like, instead. I like other stuff, too. Give me a chance."

"You're too stupid to understand anything that I would like. We have nothing in common."

"You don't know that!"

Sweat had Moondancer's glasses falling from his snout. He magicked them back into place, "You're sociable, I'm not. I'm smart, you're not. You enjoy being a crass, rude, attention-seeking jerk while I enjoy quiet self-study. No, I do know, and you know it, too." He walked up to the door on the landing, entering the hallway of the floor where his room resided.

Anonymous followed behind him, stopping short of the door Moondancer stood outside of, "Give me a fucking chance, dude."

Moondancer fished a key out from his sweater's pocket and unlocked his dorm, "Why do you want one so badly?"

"Because it's sad to see somepony so—shit, no, I didn't mean it like that!"

Moondancer entered his room and shut the door in Anonymous' face, locking it. He dropped the key on the disused cabinets by the entrance and went to his desk, slinging off the saddlebags in the dark. He ignored Anonymous' muffled voice, turned on the reading lamp, and studied until bedtime.