The bell rang, and ponies raced to leave the classroom. “Remember to read chapter 11 in your history textbooks!” Cheerilee called out, to no avail. Everypony in class was already thinking of how they were going to spend the rest of the afternoon.

Apple Bloom hurried to join her Crusader friends. For years, they met up after class, often at the old picnic table on the playground, to ask the all-important question: “What are we going to do to find our cutie marks?” Now, with the trio in possession of their cutie marks, the meetings still happened. The only difference was the question.

“So where are we going to find somepony who needs help understanding their special talent?” Sweetie Belle said.

The three fillies sighed. They rested their heads in their forehooves as they sought inspiration.

“Lily Longsocks?” Sweetie Belle suggested.

“She’s no longer afraid of helping ponies with her strength,” Apple Bloom said.

“Truffle Shuffle?” Scootaloo said.

“Already overqualified to be a food critic, and he’s taking cooking lessons, too,” Sweetie Belle said.

“Snips and Snails?” Apple Bloom said.

“Can’t help them. They’re still hopeless,” Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle agreed.

“Silver Spoon?” Sweetie Belle said.

“Actually learning how to make silver spoons,” Scootaloo said.

“Face it, there’s nopony left at school we can help,” Sweetie Belle said.

“So where can we go that has lots of ponies?” Apple Bloom asked. She smiled. “I know! The Ponyville marketplace!”

---

The Ponyville marketplace wasn’t as active in the late afternoon, but most of the carts were still there. Fresh fruits and vegetables, baked goods, and hoofcrafted items were arrayed on wooden shelves, while colorful banners above the carts announced the product for sale. Apple Bloom waved to Applejack as they went by her cart.

“Let’s see who we can help,” Scootaloo said.

The three fillies walked around the carts in the marketplace, stealing glances at cutie marks as they passed. It didn’t take them long to realize the flaw in their plan.

“Applejack’s selling apples, Woody’s selling his wooden toys, and Berry Punch is selling her special fruit juice,” Apple Bloom said.

“Carrot Top’s selling carrots, Anjou’s selling pears, and Cherry Berry’s selling cherries,” Scootaloo added.

“And everypony looks happy with what they’re doing!” Sweetie Belle said.

“Maybe there’s somepony who needs help, but we’ll have to know them as well as we know our classmates,” Apple Bloom said.

“Or they’ll come to us, and ask for help,” Scootaloo said.

“But they won’t know to come to us unless we have another big success, like Diamond Tiara!” Sweetie Belle said.

“But we won’t have another big success if they don’t come and ask for help!” Scootaloo said.

The three fillies sighed.

“Milkshakes?” Apple Bloom suggested.

“Yeah, milkshakes!” Scootaloo said.

“Milkshakes make everything better!” Sweetie Belle said.

And so, the Cutie Mark Crusaders spent the rest of the afternoon at Sugarcube Corner, just talking. They didn’t come any closer to figuring out how to help ponies understand their special talents, but at least they had delicious milkshakes.

“Sorry, girls, I’ve got to get home,” Apple Bloom said.

“Okay,” Sweetie Belle said.

“See you at school tomorrow!” Scootaloo said.

Apple Bloom headed out the door. She glanced behind her, making sure her friends weren’t following her, and then veered off to the market. Applejack was gone, as expected, but one pony was still in the market, a stallion to whom Applejack often gave the stink-eye.

Apple Bloom quietly walked up to the stallion’s cart. “Psst!” she whispered.

The stallion nodded. Apple Bloom slid two bits to him, and he passed her a package, wrapped in plain brown paper. She stored the package safely in the bottom of her saddlebags and headed back to Sweet Apple Acres.

---

“I’m home!”

It was just before dinnertime when Apple Bloom stepped through the back door of her farmhouse, entering the kitchen. Like most evenings, Granny Smith was in charge of the kitchen, keeping track of the pots simmering on the stove and the bread and pies baking in the oven. And unlike most evenings, Big McIntosh was helping her, rather than Applejack.

“Welcome home, Apple Bloom,” Big McIntosh said. “Go get washed up before dinner.”

“Okay, Mac!”

The filly ran upstairs and quickly washed her hooves, and then headed to her room to drop off her saddlebags. Her room looked freshly swept and dusted; Granny Smith must have cleaned while she was at school. She kicked her saddlebags under the bed. But then Apple Bloom noticed her bed was moved just a bit; it was no longer flush against the wall.

Apple Bloom pushed up the mattress and looked under it. “Oh no! Where is it?”

Apple Bloom heard the sound of hooves on the wooden floor behind her. “Looking for something?”

Apple Bloom turned her head and forced a smile. “Hiya, Sis!”

Applejack entered Apple Bloom’s bedroom. She had a warm smile on her face, but her expression was belied by the mare closing the door behind her. Apple Bloom gulped. A closed door was never a good sign.

“Apple Bloom, we need to talk.”

“What is it, Applejack?”Apple Bloom said nervously.

“Granny was doing her big cleaning of the farmhouse today, and one of the things she did was turn the mattresses. The poor mare got one heck of a nasty surprise.” Apple Bloom gasped as Applejack pulled out what she had hidden under her bed. Applejack threw it down, its well-used glossy pages falling open.

“Applejack, I can explain!”

“Where did you get this? Was it one of your friends? Scootaloo? Sweetie Belle?”

“No!”

“Are you sure? Because ever since you got your cutie mark, you’ve been spending a lot of time with them, but you haven’t been telling us what you’ve been doing.”

“It’s true, Applejack! Scootaloo says they’re icky, and Sweetie Belle, well... I’ve seen the way she looks sometimes, but she’s too shy to talk about what she likes.”

Applejack patted the bed. “Sit down, Apple Bloom.”

Apple Bloom sat down. Her eyes suddenly found the stitching of her quilt to be quite fascinating.

Applejack took a deep breath. “Apple Bloom, I want you to know that you’re not in trouble. It’s natural for a filly of your age to be curious. But for us Apples, there are some things that are right, and some things that are wrong. Ma had this talk with me when I was a bit younger than you, and it’s my fault for not talking to you sooner. So, tell me how it started.”

Apple Bloom rubbed her hooves together anxiously. “Well, I guess it started at that garden party. I went looking for my friends, but instead I found Rumble, sitting under a tree, his back resting against the trunk. And that’s when I saw them, hanging there. They looked so... big, and plump.”

“Did you... right there?”

“No!” Apple Bloom protested. “You know I’m not like that! But it got me to thinking.”

“Looks like you did a lot more than thinking,” Applejack said.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“So will you tell me where you got this?”

The room was silent for a minute; Applejack’s gaze never wavered from Apple Bloom. “I got it from Noi,” Apple Bloom finally said.

Applejack wiped her brow and adjusted her Stetson. “Consarn it. I’m going to have to have a talk with Golden Harvest about her kid sister,” she said.

“Don’t get her in trouble! She didn’t do anything but give me this,” Apple Bloom said. “You know, it’s just pictures on a page.”

“Just pictures, Apple Bloom?” Applejack flipped the pages, stopping when she found two pages that were stuck together. She carefully peeled the pages apart and looked at the sticky residue. “Looks to me like you weren’t just looking at pictures.”

“Yeah, okay. I experimented a little. This one looked so good, I had to give it a try.”

Applejack was quiet for a moment, watching Apple Bloom fidgeting on her bed. She pulled her little sister into a warm embrace, hugging her with all her strength. “You know, you’re a lot like me, Apple Bloom.”

“Really?” Apple Bloom said, pulling back from Applejack’s grip.

“You know how I said Ma gave me this talk? Well, I didn’t listen to her,” Applejack said. “Back when I was living in Manehattan with Aunt and Uncle Orange, I found something a lot like this in Aunt Orange’s stuff. Now, she may have had a more liberal attitude about this sort of thing, but she also knew what Ma and Pa wanted, and she respected their wishes. So you better believe I got in trouble. But I got in trouble because I disobeyed my parents. Understand, Apple Bloom?”

“Yes, Applejack,” Apple Bloom said.

“Come here, sis.” The two sisters embraced again.

Applejack looked over at the pictures and chuckled. “That’s sure better than what I remember. The photographs are clearer, and it looks like they put some effort into the presentation.”

“I guess I wouldn’t know,” Apple Bloom said

“Tell me, did you enjoy it? The taste?”

“Yeah, I did,” Apple Bloom said. “It was different, but it had a sweetness all its own.”

“Thought so. The evidence is all over the page.”

The bedroom was quiet until Apple Bloom spoke again. “So what happens now?”

“Well, Apple Bloom, I reckon dinner’s waiting for us. And after dinner, you and I are going over to Golden Harvest’s place, and we’re going to return this here fruit catalog.”

Apple Bloom gasped. “You mean you’re not going to disown me for eating pears?”

“Shoot, sugarcube, I’m only mad that you didn’t talk to me sooner. It’s Golden Harvest who’s going to be mad, you dripping juice all over her nice catalog and all.”

---

“And that’s what happened,” Applejack said.

“I’m sorry for ruining your catalog, Miss Golden Harvest,” Apple Bloom said. “Please don’t get upset with Noi.”

Golden Harvest sighed. “It’s okay, Apple Bloom. Fillies will be fillies, after all.” She lowered herself to Apple Bloom’s eye level. “Why, I remember the lecture I got from my father after he caught me experimenting with parsnips.”

“You too?”

“All earth ponies from farm families experiment, Apple Bloom. It may not be right, but it’s not unexpected,” Applejack said. “Now come along.”

Apple Bloom and Applejack returned home. Applejack placed a hoof on Apple Bloom’s withers. “Granny Smith should be asleep. Why don’t you get those pears you bought? I’ll show you the right way to enjoy them.”

Apple Bloom gasped. “How’d you know?”

“It’s kind of hard to hide the smell when you fool around like that.”

Apple Bloom crept into her room and dug out the paper-wrapped package from her saddlebags. She poked her head out the door, making sure no one could see her, and quietly returned to the kitchen.

While Apple Bloom was gone, Applejack had pulled out flour, water, salt, and butter. “Let’s see them,” Applejack said.

Apple Bloom unwrapped her package, revealing two firm Bartlett pears. Applejack assessed the fruit carefully. “Should go well with some Golden Delicious apples,” she said. “I’m going to make the dough. I need you to cut both the apples and the pears into thin slices.”

While Applejack rolled out the buttery pastry dough, Apple Bloom carefully cut the fruit into thin slices. Once they were done, the fruit was layered over the dough to make a simple tart. The fruit was topped with melted butter, brown sugar, and cinnamon. And after a short time in the oven, their dessert was ready.

Applejack cut the tart and gave a slice to Apple Bloom, adding a bit of fresh mascarpone cheese to cool it. Apple Bloom took a forkful and tasted it. “Wow! This is really good!” she said.

“See, Apple Bloom? Even pears have their place at Sweet Apple Acres. And that place is making apples taste better. In a recipe like this, the pears complement the apples, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, they do!”

“So you see, Apple Bloom, you don’t need to sneak around behind our backs and furtively eat fruit under the covers.”

“You’re right, Applejack.”

“Of course, if you’d just think more about colts, you wouldn’t have time to fantasize about forbidden fruit.”

Apple Bloom’s ears perked.

“How about that Rumble colt? Rainbow Dash says he’s quite the athlete for his age.” Applejack nudged Apple Bloom. “He’d need to be, if he hopes to keep up with an Apple’s endurance.”

“Shady Daze is cuter,” Apple Bloom said. “I wouldn’t mind seeing him lying against an apple tree.”

“Well then, why don’t you invite him? You’ve got your cutie mark; you’re old enough to have a little fun,” Applejack said. “Bring him by the orchard any time. Or the clubhouse, or the barn, heck, even your bedroom, if you’re quiet about it. ”

“Really?”

“Of course, Apple Bloom,” Applejack said. “After all, we’re not prudes.”