This is a writing contest that I am having with my brother Jacknimble. We are to write a ship on Cheerilee and Big Macintosh. Read and review, suggestions on writing and critique. Donations are welcome. High School version

Big Macintosh stood in front of his classroom. His heart fluttering faster then a weasel trapped in a barrel. His first day as a bonafide high school student! What a treat.

His Granny Smith had told him not to be nervous as he only got to go through all of this once. She was right of course, she usually was. Still it didn't help the rampant fluttering that he got in his stomach or the way that he nervously shifted his weight.

This was going to be a different school year he could absolutely feel it! Down in his bones, right where the apple seed's took root. For the majority of his educational career he had remained int he back of the classroom, or to the side. He wasn't particularly close to anybody. Everyday he just went from Sweet Apple Acres to School and then straight back. The old farmstead needed as many able-bodied folks around to work the land as his Granny Smith would call it.

Applejack and Applebloom were usually exempt because of either after school activities or they went off with their friends. Macintosh couldn't complain though, a complain' mouth don't bring larder to the cupboard as his Granny was fond of claiming.

Macintosh built up his nerve and entered the classroom. It was full of a good portion of students, he could still luckily find a seat in the back row. Just the Apple family luck he supposed. Treading to his seat Macintosh sat down, his half lidded eyes combing the room.

History class. What a treat. He didn't dislike history, but simply speaking it wasn't exactly in the top of his list o' favorite classes. He tolerated it, but could get a lot more interesting information out of his own extended family if he wished.

His teacher entered, she was a tall and harsh looking woman, she had straight straw colored hair and wore a purple vest and skirt. She was followed by a younger woman who had long dark pink hair and a green dress on. It reached all the way to the floor, swishing back and forth on the tiles as she moved through the room. The pink haired woman had her hands full of papers and other writing utensils.

"Class. Attention." The teacher called out in a voice as strong as her eyes. "This is Miss. Cheerilee. She is my teaching assistant and she will be assisting me in the classwork and studying the course material along with you. She is fresh out of college so be courteous to her. Now as I myself do not enjoy introductions I will allow her to begin the class." With that Cheerilee was thrust up to the front of the class where she stood for a moment. Her arms cradling the papers and worksheets in an attempt to keep them marginally organized.

"Hello class! I think that most of the introductions have just been given, I hope to get to know each and every one of you this year, and I hope that you can all help me learn a lot about teaching in a High School environment!" She gave a bright smile before sitting down in a chair near the front of the room, she would switch her gaze between the teacher and the students all through the day.

Macintosh watched her for a little while, he had not met many college student's. By not leaving the farm all that much he really only saw his family and not many of them had every attended any fancy learning school. He got back to flipping through his history textbook listening to the class with half an ear.


The early days of high school quickly, almost ridiculously faded into the later day's of freshman year. Macintosh had barely said two words to anyone. In contrast Cheerilee was typically found all over the room. Helping the more lost students, anyone who raised their hand and just generally being a helpful teacher's aide. Not once did Macintosh raise his hand for help.

He wasn't disinterested in the material he just felt as if he could be doing work better someplace else. In fact if it hadn't been a requirement he would have just as soon chosen to go into another math class. He was just as disinterested but at least there it all had the same basic structure. 1+1=2, 2+2=4 and etc. and etc.

History however had plenty of people just hooting' and hollering' at each other and not getting anything done. This was why he stayed out of all form of politics.

It was closing to the end of the school day, class was going to be let out when quick as a mosquito Cheerilee lighted down beside him and spoke to him quickly and quietly enough just for him to hear.

"I need to see you after school." And then she was up again and moving around the classroom. Macintosh followed her with his bored eyes for a moment before turning back to the worksheet. Something about how Napoleon wasn't short or something.

The end of the day bell rung and all of the students quickly tumbled out of the classroom heading off to parts unknown. His little sisters would be among the rabble outside, finding their friends and then rushing off into something or other.

Wishing to get trudging home as quickly as possible Macintosh went up to where Cheerilee sat behind the teachers desk, the teacher having already vacated the premisses.

"Macintosh are you enjoying this class?" Cheerilee opened with gesturing for him to sit down. From this close he could get a whiff of her shampoo or perfume or whatever it was that girls wore. It smelt like daffodils.

"Eyup." He responded sitting down like she asked, now he was just a couple inches taller then her.
"Then do you know why you're failing the course?"
"Nope." He was shocked, he knew that he might not have been doing that well but still! He saw other kids yelling and carrying on all class and he was the one that was doing the worst? That was crazy!

"Well I am surprised too. But it is clear from your test grades that you are down to a fifty two. Frankly I think that we could get that up easily to an eighty two maybe a ninety two! You just need to get a tutor for a little while."
"Nope." Macintosh clutched his head, he could feel a pulsing behind his temples. His cheeks turning as red as his favorite shirt, this was bad, this was very very bad.

"Why not? It could drastically improve your grade."
"Too -spensive" He grunted out of the corner of his mouth. He wished that he was back home at Sweet Apple Acres doing some old fashioned manual labor, yes that would certainly be the stuff, out there like a work horse, forgetting all of this history stuff.
Cheerilee's sigh brought him out of his state.
"Well if it's really too much...I suppose I could stay after for an hour or so every day and tutor you myself." Macintosh shook his head.
"Why not Macintosh? Really you are acting like a child right now."
"Be an inconvenience."
"Really it wouldn't! Macintosh I am here to help you so please. Let me help you." Macintosh kept his gaze to the floor, this was embarrassing on a dozen different levels. He nodded his head in affirmation.

"Okay here is a note for your grandmother explaining the situation." Cheerilee said quickly scribbling something out on a piece of paper and handing it to Macintosh. He took it with a nod before leaving. He noticed a little smell on it, right where her fingers had touched.

Daffodils.


It was difficult at first, the amount of work that he had to put in, his now typical schedule of two things. School then chores, suddenly morphed itself into three, School, Tutoring, Chores. For a person of routine like Macintosh it was a tad surreal. Luckily all he had to do was hand Granny the note that explained the situation and he was fine.

It was almost the end of the school year by the time that he had gotten an above failing grade, and to Macintosh an above failing counted as a B+ or above. He had spent every single day after school with Cheerilee going over the work. Frankly it was ludicrous how much history there was in the world, and it was only getting bigger. As every day passed history simply marched on.

The very last day of school, everyone was hot and sweaty in the enclosed classroom. Macintosh sat by the back, panting to himself. Eventually the bell rang and everyone filed out. Macintosh waited a beat before going up to where Cheerilee was gathering her things. She smiled up at him and he gave a little grin back. They had gotten closer as the year went on.
"Hello Big Macintosh! I hope you have a good summer vacation."
"Eyup." He responded before taking out an apple and a small note from his back pocket. The apple was a dark red one, he had plucked it and polished it himself, the note was simple, he was never one to mince words when they weren't necessary. It was simple, all it said was

Thanks.

In as fancy a cursive that he could muster. Cheerilee looked at it once and smiled before hugging him. Macintosh was taken aback a moment. She pulled away and smiled up at him.
"I cannot wait to see you next year!" Macintosh smiled down at her before turning on his heel and leaving.


The next few years passed quickly, quicker then Macintosh expected. Freshman and then Sophomore and then Junior and Senior year were just footnotes in a history book. He didn't go to college, Granny and the girls needed help around the farm so that's where he stayed.
Cheerilee stayed as well, getting a full time job, only after he had graduated of course. They hadn't seen each other much over the years. He was intending to go to meet her again s Applebloom had just started her first year in high school and luckily enough got Cheerilee as her history and homeroom teacher.

He intended to see her again even if just to say hello.

It was a parent teacher conference when it came up. Past Grannies bed time so it was up to him to go in for her.

It was odd being back in High School, felt as if it had been a few decades at least.

The room was the exact same as when he had gone there. The desk's still int he same position the windows still dusty, and he with the same butterflies in his stomach and heart doing a little jig. Cheerilee was waiting for him, a tired smile on her face. Teaching was not a rewarding job and she already looked older by fifteen years since he graduated.

"Hello Macintosh." She said good naturedly. He nodded in response before sitting down in front of her. "How have you been?"
"Fine." He responded, gazing over her. She was so much different from when he last saw her, but he could smell something, just the tiniest whiff coming in the small breeze whenever she turned her head.

The scent of daffodils.

I personally do not ship the two for personal reasons. It is twisted. Read and review and check out Jacknimble's next greatest hit.