My Little Brony

by K. M. Hayes

  When we entered the room, I was surprised Holly wasn’t the only one sitting there. Quincy was, too. I figured he would have been upstairs playing video games and hiding from my “scary” little sister. But there he was, watching the show with her. I had no idea what to think.

  “Drew!” Holly waved me over. “It’s the one where Rainbow Dash picks a pet. Come watch with me.”

  I looked at Mom. “Hey, how ‘bout I walk home with her after the episode?”

  “That would be great!” Mom said, clearly tired from being out all day. She looked to Mrs. Jorgenson. “Of course, if that’s okay with you.”

  “Not a problem at all.” Mrs. Jorgenson headed for the kitchen, where she was prepping something for dinner. “Leave whenever you want. I don’t mind all the company.”

  “Just stay for dinner,” Quincy said out of nowhere. He hadn’t looked at me yet—his eyes were still on the TV screen. On the ponies. “Might as well.”

  “Can you?” Mrs. Jorgenson asked. “I have more than enough.”

  Mom took a seat at the kitchen table, letting out a relieved sigh. “Oh, I’d love to not have to make dinner tonight. Scott won’t be home until late anyway.”

  It looked like we’d be here much longer than I planned. While it felt uncomfortable, I gave in and sat on the couch by Holly. She nudged me. “Hey, get out your sketchbook. I need you to draw me Dash and Tank.”

  “Fine, fine.” I grabbed my stuff, having no problem drawing for distraction. Quincy still hadn’t said anything to me, and the longer it went the more awkward it felt. I didn’t know what to make of him watching the show but not talking. He was perfectly still, no twitches, or tapping, or any other movements he always made.

  So I got to drawing. I liked sketching Rainbow Dash, mostly her hair. She had cool hair that wasn’t hard to draw like Rarity’s or Pinkie Pie’s. I liked that such a simple design still looked so good.

  By the time I finished the basic outline of Dash and Tank, the episode finished. Holly pounced on the remote. “Another one?”

  “Yes,” I said at the same time as Quincy. I looked over at him, confused. “What?”

  “Another one!” Quincy said. He looked at me briefly and then down at his hands. “It’s not so bad. That pink one is funny. And the blue one is cool.”

  “Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash,” Holly said, hitting play.

  “I see. . . .” I smiled. Did Quincy seriously just say My Little Pony wasn’t so bad? “So, did you just start watching today? Or before this?”

  “Today,” he said, eyes back on the screen where the next one was starting. “I figured, you know, since Holly was here and stuff, it wouldn’t be so bad to watch it with her and see what all the fuss is about.”

  “And?” I said, enjoying this immensely.

  “Well . . . it tricks you,” he said, and then there was a long pause while he watched. “Like, it’s all pink and stuff, but then there’s that blue one holding a race for pets and being all tough. And the orange one is like this cowgirl. And they all fight evil and shit. That weird dragon-goat-thing in there was cool.”

  “Discord!” Holly said. “Just say their names! They aren’t hard to remember.”

  I laughed. “Holly, he’s not saying them because it makes him seem like he’s still cool because he’s not really paying attention.”

  “What?” Quincy looked at me. “I don’t remember them!”

  I looked at him flatly. “You have, like, a photographic memory.”

  Quincy pursed his lips, totally caught.

  “Watch out,” I said as I went back to my drawing. “If you keep this up, you’ll be one of those pansy boys who likes My Little Pony. And you know how lame they are. It’d be the worst thing ever.”

  His shoulders slumped. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, alright? I am an idiot sometimes.”

  “Sometimes?”

  He put his finger to his lips. “Shh. Gosh, Drew, we’re trying to watch a show here. It’s not like you were nice that night either.”

  “Okay, yeah, sorry.” I went back to my drawing, knowing this was Quincy’s way of saying he had been a total jerk and that he should have given it a chance before being all judgy. I wasn’t about to push it further—he was watching the show and not mocking it in the process.

  Then it dawned on me that people had to watch the show. I’d seen it three times now—with Jake, Emma, and now Quincy. People thought My Little Pony was one thing, but when they saw how much deeper it went, they stopped being jerks about it.

  So maybe if I got Dad to watch . . .

  It was a nice thought, but not that simple. I could ask. I could dare him to until I was blue in the face, and he’d probably still refuse because it’d make him “less of a man.”

  But it had worked with other skeptics, which was something. I couldn’t deny that it might be worth a shot, even if it was a ridiculously long shot that would probably blow up in my face.

  Chapter 32

  “OKAY,” I SAID to Skye as she showed up to our lunch spot without food yet again. “You need to stop with the not eating lunch.”

  She made a face at me as she sat next to me. “None of us have time in the morning to make lunch. And I’m not going in that cafeteria. Ever.”

  “You are starving, Skye.” She’d lost weight by only living off what I shared with her, and she was already thin enough. “And you don’t even go home right away—you sew for like two hours. You can’t keep running yourself into the ground like this. I know it’s your passion and stuff, but you can’t die for it.”

  She glared at me. “Are you my mom now?”

  “If I have to be. Should I tell her what you’re doing?”

  “Don’t you dare!” She looked from side to side, as if her mom could hear us. “I’ve been using the money she gives me to buy extra fabric.”

  “What?” My mouth gaped open. “She’ll kill you!”

  “I know! So shut up.” Skye leaned back into the wall, grabbing her stomach. In the silence it growled.

  I was tired of giving up part of my lunch. I was starving the rest of the day because of it. This had to stop. “You have to go buy lunch. Like right now.”

  “Drewwwwww . . .” She held out the w sound until it turned into a horrible whine. “Don’t make me do that. You know what it’s like in there. You saw it. Teagan will find me. It’s finally getting kind of quiet for us, and that’s nice.”

  I sighed. She was right. It had been a couple weeks since everything had gone down on Homecoming night, and with our stealthy hideout and general avoidance of people who mocked us, we were surviving school pretty well lately. People had forgotten we were there, and that was about the best we could hope for.

  But Skye was starving because of it. That wasn’t exactly a good trade-off, starving to avoid being bullied, like putting a tiny bandage over a gaping wound.

  “What if I go for you?” I asked.

  “You’d do that for me?”

  “Well . . . if we went together, they’d probably say something like we’re a couple and find some way to make that gross. They’ll probably give me crap alone, but I can deal.” Plus, I didn’t want Emma to hear people saying I was in a relationship with Skye. Skye was my friend, and I was pretty sure we both liked it that way.

  “I feel bad making you do that for me,” Skye said.

  “Well, I feel bad watching you starve all day.” I held out my hand. “Give me the money. I’m small and boring looking. I might not even be noticed.”

  She laughed a little, holding out the money. “Thanks, Drew. Sorry for this, but I’m really hungry and can’t resist the offer.”

  “It’s okay.” I got up and tried to look courageous, although I knew I was about to walk into a minefield. But this was important for Skye’s health. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Or if I’m not, I’m probably hiding from the jerks in a locker.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “You can fit in a locker?”

  “Tall people, so entitled,” I grumbled, walki
ng off toward the cafeteria.

  The closer I got to the hub of the school—the lunchroom and commons—the more people there were. I could tell they noticed me when I walked by, which didn’t bode well. I forced myself not to pay attention to their expressions or their words. Food. I just had to get the food and get back. The rest didn’t matter.

  The line was almost finished when I got to the cafeteria, since lunch had started almost ten minutes before. I slipped behind the last person and made myself as small and invisible as possible. Then I prayed Jake would know I needed him to distract the football players.

  I grabbed a tray. Having no idea what Skye wanted, I picked food at random. She was probably so famished she’d eat anything, and she hadn’t said anything about allergies I needed to worry about. I held out the money for the lunch server, got the change, and planned to get out of there in a hurry. Maybe people had forgotten about us. Maybe it would get better once people got over it.

  A black shirt appeared in front of me.

  I looked up. It was the guy who’d harassed Skye before—Teagan—and clearly he wasn’t there to make friends.

  “Hey, Pony Freak,” he said, stepping so close his clothes were almost in Skye’s food. “Where’s your whack job sidekick?”

  From experience I knew it was better not to reply, so I tried to move around him. One of his friends blocked me. I went to the other side, only to be stopped by his other lackey. I sighed. “Can you move, please?”

  “Not until you give me Whack Job’s phone number,” he said.

  As hard as I tried to stay neutral, my face contorted into disgust. He had to be kidding, and yet I didn’t think he was. “Leave her the hell alone, psycho.”

  “Who knew?” He raised an eyebrow in amusement. “The sissy pony freak has some balls!”

  His friends laughed.

  Everyone in the entire cafeteria watched. I caught sight of Jake from the corner of my eye. He looked down at his food, clearly worried, and I knew I’d get no help from him. As much of a coward as I had been, he was way worse.

  “Seriously, wuss.” Teagan shoved my shoulder, almost making me drop Skye’s food. “You think I don’t know what’s going on? You don’t really like her—not like I do. You’re just lying about liking that stupid show so you can get in her pants.”

  “What?” I said, much louder than I meant to.

  “At least I’m honest,” he went on. “I want a piece of her crazy ass and you’re in the way. I ain’t lying about it. Now give me her number, stop hanging out with her, and I’ll be merciful.”

  Merciful. I’d heard that word many times before, usually as a precursor to getting beaten up, regardless of how hard I tried to placate the people threatening me. I didn’t know why this time was different—why instead of inciting fear this guy just made me angry. I glared at him without remorse. “And what if I don’t?”

  “Well . . .” He swatted at the tray, knocking it to the ground. “Then no lunch for you, for starters.”

  I scoffed at him. “That was for Skye. She was too afraid of all you jerks to come get it herself. Good job, Romeo.”

  Teagan snapped. His eyes went into rage mode, and the fist came fast and hard right into my nose, not even going easy on the first hit. I stumbled back a bit, but remained standing at least. I felt the blood even before I put my hand to my face, warm and slick as it trickled down my chin.

  He grinned, satisfied. I hated this guy. I hated even more that people thought it was okay for him to do this because I was small. The lunchroom staff headed our way—this guy would get in trouble for sure—but it wasn’t enough. In that moment I was tired of grown-ups intervening, which only resulted in me getting hurt more. I was tired of being the one who people thought would roll over and take it. I was plain exhausted from taking the high road all the time.

  I guess I snapped, too. It seemed like a good idea to shove my foot into his stomach.

  So I did.

  As hard as I could.

  The guy hit the ground and stared at me, shocked. The whole school froze in time for a second, everyone’s eyes on me and not even a whisper on anyone’s lips.

  “Being a Brony doesn’t make me a sissy, asshole.” Maybe it was dumb and immature, but I felt strong and proud of who I was. “And you better leave my friend alone.”

  I’d like to say that everyone in school cheered and no one ever messed with me or Skye again. But in reality, Teagan’s friends pounced on me. They hit me in the face again and in the gut. They stomped on my feet and elbowed my ribs. It probably didn’t last more than ten seconds before adults yelled for them to stop and they were pulled off me, but that was all it took. My head spun from the beating, and I was sure I was about to hit the ground until someone grabbed my arm.

  “Are you okay?” a gentle, familiar voice said.

  “Emma?” I could kind of see her, all blurry.

  “Your nose.” She put a napkin to it and squeezed.

  “Thanks.” I got my bearings back and noticed two teachers handling my attackers. Of course, one of them had to be my father, who looked at me like I was at fault.

  Chapter 33

  “TO THE OFFICE. Now.” Dad’s voice echoed through the cafeteria, followed by a ton of whispers. I wasn’t sure how much he had seen, but part of me hoped he had witnessed me fighting back. He needed to learn I wasn’t backing down either. “All of you.”

  “B-but it wasn’t his fault!” Emma blurted out, holding me back. “They attacked him!”

  “And he fought back,” my father said with no emotion. “Zero tolerance policy.”

  “This is so un-Christian!” Emma yelled. “Then you should take the whole lunchroom to the office because they sat there and let it all happen! I guess I should go, too!”

  “Do what you want, miss.” My father dragged two of the guys towards the door. “Just make sure that one comes with you, or he’ll be in worse trouble.”

  That one. He wouldn’t even say my name. I started walking, and Emma held my arm like she was worried I might fall over at any second. I pulled the napkin from my nose to see if it was still bleeding. My left eye felt swollen, but I knew it’d feel even worse in a couple hours.

  “Are you okay?” Emma whispered.

  “You should let go,” I said.

  “What?”

  “If you help me any longer, people will start thinking you’re a pony freak, too. And, well, obviously that might not be a good idea.”

  “So?” Emma tucked her dark hair behind her ear and looked at the crowd defiantly. “It’s just wrong. All of it is wrong, and I’m sorry I let my own hang-ups get in the way of doing what was right. I can’t stand by and watch anymore.”

  I smirked, which made my face ache. Emma was having her own moment, like when I had defended Skye in class even though it had ended my safety as a “football-related person.” I wished I hadn’t gotten beat up for it to happen. “So you’re one of us now?”

  “I might have always been,” she said. “I just didn’t know it.”

  We walked out of the lunchroom behind Dad and the guys who beat me up. Once in the hall, Skye came running up to us. Her eyes filled with horror as she took in my appearance. “What happened?”

  “I wouldn’t give Teagan your number,” I said. “He wasn’t happy about it.”

  Skye put her hands over her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I told you it was a bad idea. I’m fine going without lunch!”

  “You’re not eating?” Emma’s voice was filled with concern. “Skye!”

  Skye looked away, but kept pace with us to the office. “You know how it is, so don’t start lecturing me.”

  Emma sighed. “She’d do this in elementary school, too. She skipped lunch and saved the money to buy toys.”

  “It was the only way I could get them!” Skye said. “We don’t have money like you do.”

  “I know . . .” Emma said.

  “And this isn’t the same.” Skye tipped her chin up. “I would buy lunch if I didn’t get insul
ted every time. But I may as well use the money for something I like if I can’t for food.”

  “I can’t tell if you’re fighting or not,” I admitted as we entered the office. “But I’ll take you talking at least. It’s pretty entertaining.”

  “I’d poke you right now if you didn’t look horrible,” Skye said.

  The office secretaries were in a frenzy contacting the administrators to deal with four boys who were in a totally one-sided fight. But before any of them showed up from their lunch breaks, the school nurse appeared, took one look at me, and said, “Oh my heavens! Let me get you cleaned up.”

  I was about to go, but Skye held me back. “One sec, I’m taking pictures.”

  “Okay . . .” I looked at her like she was crazy.

  She glared at Teagan. “Just in case the principal doesn’t think you look that hurt after the nurse wipes all that blood off.”

  “Is it a lot?” I asked as she snapped a couple pictures. It hadn’t even occurred to me to think of what I looked like, but I was glad Skye had my back and made sure to get proof. She knew as well as I did how people played down bullying if they didn’t have a record of it.

  “It’s pretty bad,” Emma said, cringing.

  “Huh. Had no clue.” I’d gotten hit a lot in my life in football and then after. Maybe the pain had dulled over time. Or perhaps I knew that words hurt a lot more, and at least this time I hadn’t let their words make me feel bad.

  That was the biggest victory.

  The nurse took me in and put a cold pack on my eye while she dabbed at the blood. She checked the other places where they had hit me to make sure I didn’t have bruised ribs.

  “Trust me, my ribs are fine,” I told her. “I’ve broken them before, so I know how bad it hurts.”

  “I just need to be sure,” she said. “I need to note all the injuries for the record.”

  I nodded. “I only hit Teagan once. I kicked him in the stomach.”

  “I see.” That was all she said. I figured she had to keep a fairly unbiased stance even if it was clear I had been ganged up on.

  After that, I came out to find Skye and Emma waiting for me. On the opposite side of the office, guarded by my dad and another teacher, stood Teagan and his friends. They glared at me, and I half expected them to flip me off when no one was looking.