The sun shined in through Miss Cheerilee's classroom and landed on Featherweight's desk. The natural light illuminated the paper on his desk he was coloring. He had spent the last five minutes working on this piece of art, and he was almost satisfied with it. Just a little more...

The tan-coated colt dropped his red crayon as he heard the bell ring and the classroom door open. Miss Cheerilee walked in and greeted the students present before her with her signature cheerfulness.

"Good morning my children!" she greeted them with a smile. The class, almost automatically, replied in unison, "Good morning Miss Cheerilee."

"Today we'll begin with some subtraction of two digit numbers. But first, let's do roll call." She pulled from her desk a clipboard containing the names of every foal in her class. "Okay, Applebloom?"

"Here!" exclaimed a yellow filly with red hair.

"Diamond Tiara?"

"Here, Miss Cheerilee!" announced a pink filly sitting in the front.

"Featherweight?"

Silence.

"Featherweight?" Miss Cheerilee looked up to double check.

There was silence excluding the sound of a crayon quickly drawing on paper.

"Featherweight!" Featherweight again dropped his crayon. He looked up to see every other foal in class look at him. He blushed with embarrassment.

"Here, Miss Cheerilee. Sorry," he apologized.

Miss Cheerilee brushed it off and returned to the task at hand. "Sweetie Belle?"

"Here!" yelled a marshmallow pony sitting next to Apple Bloom.

Featherweight returned to his drawing. This drawing wasn't your ordinary pre-school doodle. Oh no, this was BETTER. It HAD to be better. This was because this drawing was for a special filly. It was for...

"Twist?"

There was yet another moment of silence. This time, Featherweight looked up to see if Twist would respond. He was shocked to find her seat empty. He looked glumly back at his drawing. She wasn't here. His drawing was for nothing.

The door slowly creaked open as a red-maned filly wearing glasses walked in. She appeared to be slightly exhausted, possibly from running.

"Sorry I'm late, Miss Cheerilee," Twist apologized with a faint smile. "Dropped my book on the way over."

"No problem, Twist! As long as you're here," Miss Cheerilee said with a grin.

Featherweight let out an inaudible sigh of relief when he saw her arrive. He could have sworn the sun shone a bit brighter when she entered the room. She was just as perfect as she always was: her beautiful, poofy red mane; her cute glasses; her lovely smile. He only hoped she liked his little gift...

Featherweight remembered his drawing and quickly got back to it. He picked up the red crayon he dropped twice and put the finishing touches on the filly's mane. It wasn't the exact shade of red Twist had, but it was close enough. Once he was finally done, he put the mural in his backpack before any pony else saw it. This was special, and if one of his classmates saw it, he'd DIE!

The day progressed as usual: math from 8 to 9, reading and English 9 to 10, science 10 to 11, lunch 11 to 11:30, and recess 11:30 to noon. Each class was longer than the last as Featherweight waited for the time when he could finally show his apple-of-his-eye how he felt about her. Recess would be the perfect time, the only problem being it was the last class of the day. He thought the end of eternity would come before then!

When 11:30 finally came, the second-to-last bell of the day rang, and every foal in Miss Cheerilee's kindergarten class rushed out to exercise their energetic hooves and wings. Featherweight searched both eagerly and nervously for his crush. He noticed her alone by the swing set, enjoying her company of one. Featherweight adjusted his backpack and hoped she had room for one more.

As he approached his first love, his stomach sank, and every ounce of his body filled with doubt. What if she saw him as a weirdo? A creep? What if she never talked to him again? What if she told her friends, and they told their friends, and before you knew it, everyone saw him as " that colt with a crush on Twist"? What if...

Featherweight nearly jumped as the filly on the swings called his name.

"Hey there Featherweight! Watchya doin'?"

"Oh, uh-- H-hey Twist. Uh, nothing," Featherweight sheepishly responded. He approached Twist and sat down on the swing next to her. Not to swing, but to sit and talk.

They sat in silence for a moment, Twist staring at Featherweight and Featherweight staring at the ground. Twist was the one to break the silence.

"So, watchya want to talk about?" she asked with a semi-quizzical look on her face. Featherweight finally looked at her eye-glassed face and thought of how to properly give her his gift to her, his favorite filly. He finally thought of the perfect approach, at least, that's what it seemed to be.

"Oh, nothing," he lied. "Um, I- I drew you something in class this morning," he blurted out in one breath. He closed both eyes and held his breath as he waited for a response. When none came, he opened one eye to see Twist with a fully quizzical look this time. He waited longer, perhaps an eternity, for yet again, her response.

She eventually shook her head and snapped out of her little trance. "Oh! Well, can I see it?"

Featherweight let out his breath in relief. "Sure! Of course!" He reached into his backpack eagerly and pulled out a piece of colorful paper. He handed it over to her on the ground for her to see.

Twist opened her mouth in awe at the portrait. There, in front of her, was a crayoned picture of her in a field of daffodils. It wasn't just some ameuture's take on her, it was a symbol of Featherweight's love of her. Special attention was paid to her mane and eyes, what she thought to be the signature parts of her in his view. The daffodils were almost perfect, and looked very graceful around her form. If there was any way to show your love of another pony, it was this drawing; no, this piece of art.

Featherweight saw the look on her face and his stomach dropped. She didn't like it. He KNEW she wouldn't like it! Why didn't he just turn and run when she saw him? Why was he so stupid?! So stupid! He looked down again in shame and embarrassment.

"I...," she started. Featherweight didn't look up, knowing the inevitable answer. "I... Love it!"

Featherweight looked up in shock and glee. She loved it! Loved it, loved it, LOVED it! "You do?!"

"Of course! I mean, it's perfect! I love the way you captured my mane, my eyes, my tail, my... Oh my, everything! And I especially love the daffodils! How'd you know they were my favorite?"

"Heh, I guess it's just one of those things you never forget."

"And where'd you learn to draw this good?"

"It's something you learn while being a photographer: you get to really LOOK at things around you."

"Oh, thank you, Featherweight! I'll keep it forever and ever," she said with the biggest look of thanks on her face.

"Oh, it was nothing," Featherweight said humbly. "Glad you love it. Well, see ya around."

Featherweight turned to leave the swings when he was interrupted.

"Hey Featherweight?"

Featherweight turned to respond and was surprised to feel a faint touch of moist warmth on his muzzle. Twist stood on the tips of her hooves as she placed the sweetest of kisses on the colt's cheeks. The kiss felt like an eternity of happiness. Sparks exploded, the world stopped, and Featherweight was right on top. He wished the contact would last his whole life.

As Twist pulled away from the embrace she said another round of thanks as the bell rang for school to end. She left her first ever crush and ran on her path to home, leaving Featherweight in a trance of awe.

Featherweight sat there for another few moments before mechanically putting on his backpack and leaving the schoolyard. He was in love, and his love loved him back.