Introductions
Dipper looked across the campus, scanning over several frostbitten faces. The coffee cup in his hands was starting to cool down to the temperature of the air around him, leaving a disappointing caramel hint instead of the steamy mug o love he’d been looking forward to. Classes were at that point in the semester where they seemed to drag on without any point; summer too far away but a dream to hold onto. Warming his hands on the lukewarm cup, Dipper sighed quietly. Free periods were always spent like this. The cafe on campus carried the caramel drinks he enjoyed in the winter and iced coffees he enjoyed from the summer so he grabbed a bench on the lounging area outside and watched the rushed students go by, some composed and ready to take in as much information as they could and some grasping to their coffee cups like it was a literal life saver and without it they would crash and burn into exhaustion. He’d had those days. Gulping down his treat Dipper moved to walk beside a fast paced rainbow. Dipper’s best friend since they’d been a child, and also his twin sister, Mabel Pines.
“Hey.” Dipper greeted her with a little wave. As usual, there wasn’t a lack of colour in her coordinated outfit. It started with a homemade lace collar which connected to a dress she had made for a class last semester. Her stockings had cute cat faces on them which paired with her kick-ass doc martians. Overall, Dipper would give this outfit an 8.5 out of 10.
“In Fall, everything falls. My GPA, my motivation, my likeliness of having a successful life.” Mabel whined, draping the back of her hand over her face. “It’s just not fair. I wanna go home. I want a beer.”
“We’re not old enough to legally drink yet, Mabel. Please be safe when you’re ranting in the middle of the quad.”
“I want an ice cream sandwich. I wanna take a nap. I wanna write and compose an entire script.”
“That’s just borderline unhealthy, no one should sit down for that long.”
“I want a vodka shot. No, not a shot. A bottle.”
“Did you not just hear me?” Dipper rolled their eyes. While his major was a respectable Creative Writing paired with English Literature, hers was a Theater and in her free time she was the Musical Director for the school’s Musical Theater Appreciation Committee. The thespians in that club were very cutthroat, and even though Dipper ridiculed her for her choices, he was secretly proud of her position.
The two continued walking in silence, occasionally pointing out things they liked on the street like a neat dog or a pretty leaf. The two often took walks together in complete silence, in their own train of thought far too busy to carry on a conversation. Mabel’s bag bumped into Dipper’s leg, causing him to notice it.
“Hey Mabel, can I ask you something?” Mabel hummed a response to show she was listening, tapping out a message to someone on her phone. “Do you think you could make me a messenger bag like yours to carry my laptop and books? My old bag is falling apart and I like yours.”
Mabel’s eyes sparkled with ideas, nodding enthusiastically. “I’d love to, man! Ooh, do you think I could cross-stitch it and use felt for the inside? Or would that cause too much friction? I never know with these-”
Dipper let her continue on planning, knowing from experience that trying to stop her wouldn’t amount to anything. He slowed down to walk beside her; watching the people around them. Many of them looked as bored as they were, spending the period studying or brushing up on facts for a test. While he was scanning, Dipper’s eyes bulged.
“Mabes!” He almost yelled, nudging her in the side. “Look, that guy over there is pretty hot. Is he your type?”
Mabel stifled a laugh, shaking her head. “I don’t think I’d be into that. . . but maybe you would if he’s really that hot.” She shot him a wink, giggling. “Seriously, Dipper, you’re the weirdest thing.”
“I would not be interested in that. I think he’s wearing Crocs. And. . . what is that even?” The two squinted in unison, staring down the blond across the way who was blissfully reading something in his lap.
“No-”
“He can’t really-”
“I want one.” They finished together, nodding in unison.
The man was wearing a dino onsie, complete with back spikes and a tail. The blanket he was sitting on protected his laptop which was resting in front of him with several indie band stickers on it.
“Mabel, catching me I’m swooning.” Dipper fake swooned, leaning in towards Mabel’s ear. “This is my dream man, let me at him.”
“Hold up there Tiger, you don’t even know if he’d be interested. I mean you don’t really scream. . .” Mabel looked over Dipper’s outfit. “Okay never mind, go get him.”
Dipper looked down at his clothes, noting the pink skinny jeans and tee with folded sleeves and a little pocket. “I’m not that gay, man. Don’t be fucking rude.” He bounced over the the onsie blond, grinning at the braveness.
“Hey there, my sister and I saw you from across the street. Do you mind if I sit down?” Dipper motioned to the blanket the Dino man was sitting on. It was patterned to have a tweet printed on it from someone who’s name started with a Troy and ended with Ivan. Dipper shruged, not being caught up in the scene of "teens" these days.
“Um. . .” The blond looked over Dipper, pausing on their legs and blushing slightly. “Sure.” He patted the sport next to him and scooted over slightly. “I’m Bill. Bill Cipher.” Bill glaced back at his laptop, quickly flicking over the keys to save whatever it was he was writing. With his fingers. That were long.
Dipper blinked, with his eyes that almost always had that function. “My name is Dipper.” He found their eyes drawn to the document left open on Bill’s lap. “If you don’t mind me asking, what are you writing?”
Bill brightened. “I’m writing a couple poetry pieces for my class! I wanted to take a spin on the traditional poetry forms by using them to talk about modern things. Like this one,” he pointed to a small hiaku on the top. “It’s about a social media site and how it won’t load with the student wifi that we’ve ben provided, and this one.” He pointed to a long piece which seemed to flow over the page. “ This one is about the struggles of someone with a mental health disorder.”
Dipper whistled, raising his eyebrows. “Color me impressed, man. That sounds really cool.” He glanced back at Mabel, noting her bored but devious look. “I should probably head back to but. . . could I maybe give you my number?”
Bill stammered, rapidly blinking. “Um. Sure. I mean, I guess if you want. I.” He took out his phone, handing it to Dipper. “Here, you can just put in your info here.” He bit his lip, looking down at Dipper from above the rims of his glasses. “I can text you later when I finish this, so that you’ll have my number in your phone too.” He finished lamely, holding out his arms in an uncomfortable angle.
After trading farewells, the two parted. On infatuated, one awkwardly touched by the encounter. “Sooooo, what do you two talk about? Did you get his number? Does he have a twin sister who dresses nicer?”
“Man, calm down. I just chatted him up about stupid things why did I even go up to him. Mabel, I made a fool of myself he probably deleted my contact right after I put it in.” Dipper sighed, holding his head in-between his arms.
Mabel stopped, standing still in the middle of the walkway. “Oren Pines. You are a catch and any man would be luck to have you.” She glared him down, grabbing his shoulders. “Do you understand? Nod if you agree. Nod even if you don’t agree.”
“But-” Dipper started, looking down at his feet. The leaves on the ground, he noted, were bursting with color like they did in their hometown.
“No. I will not accept any feedback on my solid facts, thanks. If you don’t believe in your date-ability then how will other hot guys think you’d be a good person to date? Trust me on this, it’s all a matter of confidence.” Mabel poked him in-between his eyes. “How did you think i score the chicks I do, come on think about it.”
“Maybe because you’re actually successful and have the whole looks thing going for you?” He bit the inside of his lip. Mabel did so many things to help the community. What did he do? Sit at home on his laptop. “I’m going to go to my dorm for a while, sorry.”
Mabel frowned, watching Dipper’s hair bob up and down as they walked the pavement of the quad back to his dorm. “That boy.”