She's So Cool

-Scootaloo POV-

“You should’ve seen the look on her face! She was so proud of me!”

“Uh huh.”

“I mean, the way she was coaching me on, I just couldn’t let her down, right?”

“Uh huh.”

“It was like ... I don’t know. It started with me wanting to kick Sunset’s ass and rub it in her face for saying what she said, but then after Coach Dash started cheering me on, it’s just- ... something kinda ... burst. It was awesome!”

“Uh huh.”

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Oh, sure I am. Coach Dash looked at you or something.”

Wow. I keep forgetting how much meaner than Applebloom Sweetie is. Especially when she’s driving.

“Jeez, if you didn’t want me to talk about it, you could’ve said so,” I say, folding my arms,

“What do you think I’ve been trying to tell you for the past 20 minutes?”

“Alright, fine. I won’t bother you with it anymore. Jesus.”

I lean back in my seat, letting her focus on her driving. No problem. There’s plenty of topics to talk about.

...

“But could you blame me for talking about it?”

“Ugh!”

“I’m sorry, but it’s not easy getting her approval. I have every right to be giddy about it.”

“Can you just go a second without talking about that woman? Fuck’s sake, she’s just a gym coach.”

“Maybe to you because you’re not in her class. I am. No other teacher does what she does. No one gets students as engaged as she does.”

“Again, she’s a gym coach. It’d be more impressive if she didn’t get students immersed.”

“You just have to be there. It’s just something that can’t be explained with words.”

“Scoot, there’s a total of about 60-something students that take her class every day and you’re the only one who acts like this. I highly doubt there’s an outside factor as to why you obsess over thaaaAAAT FUCKING BITCH!!!”

Sweetie then angrily lays into her horn as her infamous road rage makes its appearance.

“TURN SIGNALS!!! FUCKING USE ‘EM!!! No, but seriously, anything that woman does is documented in your head. I bet you keep track of every time she sneezes.”

“Funny. And I don’t obsess over her. She’s just really damn good at her job.”

“She didn’t show up for one singular day last month and you damn near had a panic attack.”

“I don’t see your point.”

“Obviously. Because you’re too obsessed with her to see anything else. You’re- Oh, yeah! Sure! That’s how we were taught to merge, jackass! Uh huh! Yup! I bet your mommy and daddy are just thrilled at their baby boy FOR DRIVING LIKE A FUCKING QUEER!!! HOW DO THOSE KUDOS LOOK FROM HELL, YOU FUCKING RETARD?!?!”

“ ... You sure you don’t want me to take the wheel?”

“Of course not. It’s my car and we’re already halfway there. Wouldn’t make sense to switch now.”

“Right. Silly me.”

“Look, bottom line is you just need to quit putting this woman on a pedestal. She’s not a God. She’s a regular woman who laughs, cries, bleeds, and pees like the rest of us. Sure, she’s good at her job, but that’s it. There’s nothing special about her. She’s just a normal working woman.”

“Again, I don’t put her on a pedestal. I’m just a subscriber to the concept of giving credit where it’s due. It’s not my fault she’s the best teacher the school has to offer. She’s a multi-time world champion. She’s an Olympic gold medalist. She’s a life coach. She’s a highly successful woman and what does she do with that kind of resume? Teach kids. That’s gotta graner at least some respect, right?”

“Ok, whatever. I tried. If you wanna have her be all you think about, fine. But just leave me out of it at least. If I have to sit through hearing about your precious coach one more time, I swear too God I’m gonna RIP OUT YOUR SPINE AND BUTT FUCK YOUR SISTER WITH IT!!! THE LIGHT’S YELLOW!!! YOU GO ON YELLOW, YOU STUPID FUCK!!!”

“Ok, I’ll only promise to do that if you promise to fix ... this problem.”

“It’s not a problem. It’s perfectly natural. People on the road are dumb and I have every right to condemn them for it.”

“Behind a windshield where the only person hearing the condemning is your fellow passenger who did nothing you’re upset over.”

“Consider it a free lesson of what not to do so you never make these mistakes and cause an ungodly amount of disturbance for other drivers.”

“ ... Sure.”

I’m friends with idiots. But I still love them, though. I wouldn’t change a single thing about them.

But enough about that. Today’s the worst of the FitnessGram: fucking push ups. The most egregious exercise to ever exist. But I gotta suck it up. Coach Dash is counting on me. She wants my all every time I’m on that floor and goddammit she’s gonna get it. Or I’m gonna die trying.

After making it to the school, Sweetie parks the car with me reaching for my stuff behind me.

“Cool, we made it in one piece. Always gotta be grateful for that miracle,” I tease after grabbing my belongings,

“Cute,” Sweetie replies, removing her keys and putting them in her purse, “Just remember that I’m always in control of whether we do or not when you make those jokes.”

“And I’ll die a happy girl if you choose the other option.”

“And you’ll die by yourself. I’m rolling out.”

“No you won’t. You love me too much to both kill me and let me die alone. You gotta pick one.”

“Yeah, that’s how it works.”

“Yup. But until then, you’re stuck with me.”

I then cement my claim, turning her head to face me and giving her a kiss. And, like always, it takes her a bit to give in and kiss me back. That’s my girl. But she eventually reaches her peak and breaks the kiss, saying,

“Alright, alright. Let’s just go to class already. I don’t want my reputation being ruined because of you.”

She’s so adorable when she gets like this. And it’s always so much fun to make it worse. So I lean in closer to her, saying,

“Oh, don’t be such a drama queen. We’ve still got 30 more minutes before school starts. Plenty of time to fool around a bit if you’re up for it, Sweetie girl~.”

I seal the deal by focusing on her neck, kissing and sucking on it as she sighs in pleasure while gripping the driver’s seat. That is until she finds it within herself to push me off of her, staring at me with a mix of lust and annoyance as I uncontrollably chuckle at her. Look at her bein mean. Scary stuff.

“Stop it,” she forces herself to say,

“Fine, fine,” I reply, laughing at her attempts to be all sewious.

I swear, messing with her will never not be part of my daily schedule. It’s one of the reasons I’m glad she finally has her car back. It enables me to do whatever I want with her. The bus is too restrictive. I wanna kiss my beautiful sweetness. Can’t do that with cameras and drivers and invasive perverted eyes.

Of course, that’s just one perk of car riding. A close second is definitely the fact that we get here far before anyone else. So we’re always the first to eat and we get free reign to go wherever.

Now, while I wish Sweetie wasn’t such a prude and would realize that pre-academic affection is one of the core necessities of any living being, that’s just not how it goes most of the time. And with Applebloom being so adamant about taking the bus, I’m always left on my lonesome. Which, for anyone else would probably be the most daunting thing, but for me, there couldn’t be a more ideal scenario. Because I know for a fact Coach Dash is one of, if not the first, people to enter the building. So I’ve got ample time to really spend time with her and help her in any way I can.

So after finishing breakfast, I head directly to her classroom. But in my pursuit, the universe expresses its utter hatred for me by putting Shimmer in my path. I really hate my bad luck. I already won. I kicked her ass and drug it through the mud yesterday. Why do I have to interact with her?

Well, maybe I don’t have to. Crossing paths doesn’t necessarily always lead to interaction. I just gotta keep to myself and focus on what’s really important right now. Hell, she’s too busy looking on her phone to even notice me. Maybe I’m worrying about nothing.

“Purple haired freak,” she comments without even looking up from her phone as I pass her.

I should’ve known that that was wishful thinking. Someone that bitchy can’t survive without their daily intake of attention. She always has to do something to get under someone’s skin just for a slimmer of focus on her ... and it works.

“Don’t get mad at me because you’re slow as hell,” I reply,

“Oh, so you do a couple more laps and you’re automatically U’Rain Bolt?”

“No, I’m just someone who finally shut up the self proclaimed queen of the world.”

“Oh, that’s cute. You think running a bit in front of your incompetent coach makes you special. Aww. Well, it’s nice to know that when the time comes where you have to prove your worth, you’ll always have running for mommy Dash as an option.”

Alright, I’m sick of your mouth. I drop my bag before saying,

“I mean, if you want, I can show you what else I’m good at right now.”

She glares daggers at me as I wait for her next move. Come on, you prissy pillow princess. No one’s stopping you. Put up or shut up.

After what felt like five stages of erosion going by, she finally responds, replicating my actions as she slides her purse down her arm and tosses it aside before stepping forward inches away from my face. Go ahead, you pompous bitch. Do something! I fucking dare you!

My blood is then brought to a boil as a condescending smirk appears on her face. She then scoffs before saying,

“You know what? It’s not worth it. I have better things to do with my time than dragging an attention whore’s lapdog around this hallway.”

And with that final statement, my patience deteriorates. She’s gonna pay for every letter in that fucking sentence!

She starts to walk off, but I shove her against the lockers, pinning her head right on the hinge of one of them. She then dramatically shrieks while haphazardly trying to fight me off. Instantly realizing what she’s doing, I immediately release her and take a few steps back. And as expected, the door behind us opens with Ms. Cheerilee poking her head out to see what’s going on.

“What in God’s name are you two doing out here?” she questions,

As I try to think on my feet to get out of this, I turn to scowl at the shameless pussy behind me. She, in turn, gives a feigned look of fear as if preparing to frame me to be the only one at fault.