Twilight had almost given up hope of locating her missing button when she found Sugarcoat instead, sorting through the carpet of decaying leaves beneath the bleachers of Canterlot High's athletic field.

"Sugarcoat!" said Twilight, squaring her spectacles. "I... didn't expect to find you here! What—"

"I'm lesbian-attracted to you," said Sugarcoat.

A moment passed.

"...Sorry?"

"According to the bylaws, a draw in the Friendship Games must be mutually agreed upon," Sugarcoat continued, firing off her words in a dull, monotone staccato. "Since Principal Cinch never accepted your principal's kinda-lame 'we're all winners' proposal, the Games are still on, even though they started four days ago. So if someone from Crystal Prep were to find our school's pennant and bring it to the front of the school we would beat you in two of three events and continue our unbroken Friendship Games winning streak. I decided to look for it and then you arrived and the moment I saw you my loins were seized with a burning unnatural same-sex lust for you." Sugarcoat punctuated this with a couple of half-lidded blinks.

"Well!" said Twilight. "This is... surprising?"

"I'm surprised by it too," Sugarcoat rattled on. "You would think that I would have realized my shameful passions during the many years of classes we shared together. I blame the fact that I was raised in a very traditional household with an alcoholic mother whose own stupid marriage fell apart because she herself was trying to please my grandparents by being a stereotypical 'good daughter' and denying her own homosexual leanings. Unfortunately, my mom blamed the entire mess on her orientation itself rather than her repression of it, so whenever I showed any sign of feeling the same way I was dealt with very harshly."

"Oh," said Twilight. "Oh, Sugarcoat, I'm so sor—"

"To give just one example: one time when I was very young she found the annual swimsuit issue of Sports Illustrated under my mattress and in response she sent me to bed without supper for a month. So I sublimated all my feelings for you until just now when I realized you were going to be transferring to a new school and I might never see you again. Now I want to kiss you, with tongue, here under the bleachers."

"Um—"

"I have a mad desperate hope that if I kiss you well enough you'll decide that there's something at Crystal Prep for you after all and you won't transfer away." Sugarcoat yawned a little. "Obviously this is ridiculous because Canterlot High stresses interpersonal learning over individual academic achievement, and that's the one area of education you're really dumb in. It only makes sense that you would transfer to a school where you could complete a more holistic secondary education, and also you've got lots of new friends here. Clearly I would be holding you back."

"Sugarcoat!" said Twilight. "No! I mean... don't think that about yourself!" She wrung her hands nervously. "Look, I... I'm happy that you're telling me all this. This must be very difficult for you."

"Not particularly," Sugarcoat admitted, shrugging.

"Well, in any case, I'm honored by your trust in me. And I don't want you to feel bad, or foolish, but... since you were honest with me, I'm going to be honest with you: I'm not sure I feel the same way. But if it wouldn't be too awkward or hard on you, I'd love to be your friend, at least."

"Sure," said Sugarcoat, her facial expression utterly unchanged. "That'd be great."

Twilight smiled and extended a hand. "C'mon," she said. "Let's forget the Friendship Games and go get root beer floats together. What do you say?"

Sugarcoat paused.

"Okay," she said.

Twilight frowned. "Is something wrong?"

"No, it's fine," said Sugarcoat, briskly. "Floats it is."

Twilight brightened. "Okay, then!" she said, leading the way to the ice cream shop.

It wasn't Twilight's fault, Sugarcoat thought, trailing along behind. It was an innocent, friendly gesture. Twilight had no way of knowing of the angry fire of hatred that burned in Sugarcoat's breast. For one brief, mad moment, Sugarcoat pondered telling her new friend of her hidden pain, but the raw shame of it all caused her mouth to lock around the words. No. This was a secret she would take to her grave.

No one must know that I dislike vanilla ice cream, thought Sugarcoat. No one.