July 30th, 2018

Wendy Corduroy looked forward to having a day to herself. More specifically, a busy day to herself.

That Monday morning, returning home from her weekend with Robbie and Tambry, freshly exposed to another round of Dipper-Pacifica drama, she woke up around 10:00 am to an email from Natural Oregon, the magazine to which she occasionally submitted photographs. She hadn't sent them anything new since her last pieces had been published in June. The email was more exciting than she could ever have predicted.

To: Wendy Corduroy

From: Bob Sadler, Natural Oregon

Hi Wendy!

Thanks again for your amazing bird photographs last month! We are starting work on our fall issue and wanted to see if you'd be interested in a feature article. In particular, we would love for you to send more photographs of the region around Gravity Falls - it's such a beautiful place and so full of wonderful plants and wildlife!

You don't know the half of it, Wendy thought. Beneath her snark, though, she was thrilled.

Please let me know as soon as you can. We need a replacement for Scott Schultz, who unfortunately fell ill and won't be able to contribute his planned spread, Creatures of the Cascades.

Anyway, sorry for the short notice but I hope that you're interested! Please email me as soon as possible. We're hoping to have the issue out by September 1st - is that deadline feasible? We, of course, observe final editorial approval over all submissions, but we'll allow you a choice of theme and subject. Payment will be discussed once the article's sent in.

Regards,

Bob

PS: Please don't think that you were the second choice - we love your work. This just gives us an opportunity to feature more of it, sooner!

Wendy smirked at the postscript, which made obvious what Wendy already suspected. Though it didn't really matter - this was her chance for a break. And man, what a chance! A feature written and photographed on her terms, for a major magazine, albeit with a hard deadline and not editorial approval.

She was good at photography. After years of stumbling around as a gangly tomboy, an awkward teen and a fumbling undergrad, she'd finally found her thing snapping pictures. She really excelled at photographing animals and plants and landscapes, of measuring light and balancing contrasts...her only shortcoming came emerged when photographing people. For some reason, she hadn't yet mastered that.

Nonetheless, it made her feel better about herself. She didn't like feeling directionless in her life - never had, despite her detached attitude often mistaken for cool. She really didn't want to follow her brothers into the family business, no matter how much her dad pushed her in that direction, but she didn't feel smart enough or accomplished enough to push out on her own. Just, something that didn't involving chopping down trees for a living.

She was especially grateful for it this summer. Going three-and-a-half months without classes or a real job stopped being fun once you reached a certain age. After the first week or two of lounging around, you wanted to do things, but realized you didn't have the money available, or the friends close by, to do them with. She hated to admit it, but she'd made precious few friends at school (Graham sure as hell didn't count), and many of them were on vacation anyway.

True, she did have her favorite dorks here. Dipper and Mabel always made her summer fun, and she'd enjoyed their mysteries together so far. Yet even those had seemed more intense than their past misadventures. Traveling back in time to save the world from terrorists and deranged presidents was a bit extreme, even for Wendy. And she still felt furious about that Northwest mess...especially now that Pacifica and her mom were preparing to move in to her apartment complex.

In all honesty, even now, Wendy found it hard to care about Pacifica. She had never liked her as a kid or a teen, found her to embody the type of preppy, stuck-up popular bitch who invariably hated and mocked her, and whom she despised in turn. She had found the heiress insufferable when she dated Dipper; the two seemed to bring out the worst in each other, making even the Twins less enjoyable to hang around. And while she had to grudgingly admit Pacifica helped save her at the Mansion awhile back...Well, being the least evil Northwest was not an accomplishment.

Still, she was Dipper and Mabel's friend, for God knows what reason. Or wanted to be. Was trying to be. And when Dipper gave Wendy some inkling of what her and her mom were going through, she felt a pang of sympathy - not for Pacifica as Pacifica, but for her as a young woman trying to escape an awful dad.

And Dipper...

Man, what about that dork?

Somehow, the beginning of the summer seemed a world away. Back when Dipper and Wendy were still friends, encased in their own layers of denial, just pretending to be platonic buds solving mysteries and watching shitty movies at the Shack. Back before fighting evildoers and time travel rekindled and intensified their old feelings. And she still wasn't sure what to make of the whole thing. She still worried that she was making a mistake, that their relationship wouldn't last the summer.

Did she love Dipper? She certainly liked him; he was definitely one of, perhaps the coolest guy she'd ever known. He'd grown into an attractive young man with messy hair and a lithe swimmer's body, comfortingly complemented by the same cute, awkward smile he'd always had. And their connection, their shared interests and mutual freakishness hadn't dissipated at all. She didn't mind sleeping with him, in fact enjoyed it immensely, even if she was still a little reluctant to go "all the way," and was glad Dipper had settled for something in-between during their nights together.

But the nagging doubt always returned, whenever she thought about it. Whether they were right for each other. Whether three years' difference was as big a deal as it sometimes seemed. Whether their relationship could last. Whether, deep down, she really loved him.

And now this shit with Pacifica.

God damn it, Dipper, why do you have to make this so hard?

"How are you liking the new place?" Mabel asked Pacifica, hopping around outside the Northwests' new apartment.

"It's taken some getting used to," Pacifica admitted. "Like, there's only one small kitchenette with a single oven and a hotplate and a fridge. And no servants. And only two bedrooms. I mean, can you imagine?"

"Sister, I live in my grunkle's attic," Mabel teased. "You have no room to complain!"

"Fair enough," Pacifica laughed. "It's just...it's not that I'm not grateful, you guys." She turned to Wendy, who leaned nonchalantly against a wall. "I mean it - it's so awesome of you to do this for us! But, it's not what I'm used to."

"No, I get it," Wendy assured her, with as much cheer as she could muster. Though she couldn't help teasing Pacifica: "Must be hard having to eat things without serving them on gold plates."

Fortunately, Pacifica took it in stride. "Not even silver!" she said in mock horror. And the girls shared a laugh.

At least Pacifica has a sense of humor about herself, Wendy thought. Or found one. She used to be insufferable.

"I hope you gals are settled in, because Mabel's ready to take you on a much-needed girl's day out."

Pacifica's face screwed up into an uncertain grimace. "Erm, what exactly did you have in mind?"

Mabel beamed with excitement. "Ooh, so many possibilities! We can go shopping! The mall just opened a new chain clothing store and a new taco hut in the food court! Or, we could stay in and do Mabel Makeovers! Or we could over to Izzy's fabric store and knit some special sweaters! Or, we could stay inside and watch a double dose of Dream Boy High and Toshiro and Reiko's Fuzzy Shiny Happy Anime Hour!"

"Those all sound fun," Pacifica said warily, "but we're still kinda settling in here." Then, when Mabel flashed her a disappointed frown, she added: "We can do something fun this weekend, maybe!"

"Depends if me and Charlie have plans," Mabel said.

Priscilla walked in at that moment, her arms weighed down by several bulging grocery bags.

"Oh, hi girls!" she said, struggling to smile. "Just...stopped by the local...marketplace and bought us...some..."

Finally, two of the bags tore open, spilling their contents everywhere. Pacifica and Priscilla dropped their mouths in shock, panicking over this minor mishap. Mabel and Wendy exchanged an awkward glance.

"Oh, for Christ's sakes!" Priscilla muttered, seeming near tears as she looked at the food on the floor.

After a moment, Mabel and Wendy joined in and helped the hapless Northwests clean up. Fortunately, nothing really spilled, aside from a little almond milk.

"Thank you girls," Priscilla said. "My word, it's been so long since I've had to shop for myself. Don't I feel silly!"

"No sweat, Mrs. N!" Mabel assured her. "We all gotta start somewhere."

"Yes..." Priscilla said wistfully, then pulled her daughter close and looked at Wendy.

"It's nice to have the chance to start over," she said. "Thank you, Wanda."

"No prob," Wendy said, ignoring the slip-up on her name. "Sometimes we gals gotta stick together, right? I mean, this can't be worse than..." And she stopped herself from saying anything more.

After a moment's awkwardness, Priscilla extended an olive branch. "Would you girls like to stay for lunch? I'm making a southwest turkey salad. I know, it sounds a little strange, but I like to think that it tastes pretty good."

"Calling it a salad's a bit of a stretch, Mom," Pacifica said. "It's more like turkey chili and sour cream poured on some lettuce."

"There's nothing wrong with spicy turkey on a salad!" Priscilla insisted, seeming offended. "And the sour cream gives it a nice texture!"

"That's all right," Wendy interrupted. "Me and Mabel are grabbing lunch a little later."

"Okay," Priscilla said, sounding a little disappointed. Then she added weakly: "Our kitchen's always open."

"Run far away!" Pacifica whispered, and Mabel burst out laughing. Wendy took the blonde's advice and grabbed Mabel, pulling her away from the hapless Northwests.

"They're really trying," Mabel assured Wendy. "I mean, they're pretty much starting their lives from scratch. Can't expect them to be on track right out of the starting gate. Besides, you gotta admit it's hard to go from the swank celebrity lifestyle to living in an apartment."

"Getting rid of Preston's definitely a step in the right direction," Wendy agreed. "I just hope that Priscilla doesn't bleed to death cutting herself with a can lid."

"Yeah," Mabel giggled.

As they headed out to the foyer, Wendy decided to spill the beans.

"So Mabes, have some amazing news to share," Wendy said, as nonchalantly as she could.

"Oh?" Mabel said, instantly perking up.

"Don't make a big deal of it, but...Natural Oregon emailed me this morning."

"The magazine who published your photos earlier this year," Mabel said, already quivering with excitement.

"Yep," Wendy confirmed. "Well, they emailed me and...they're planning to let me photograph and write a feature article."

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Mabel's ungodly scream seemed to make the glass doors shake; it definitely sent some birds flying from a brush outside, and turned the heads of a few annoyed apartment dwellers.

"OMG, WenWen!" Mabel said, crushing her friend in an excited hug. "That is like...wow! Congratulations! Now you're gonna be a huge star!"

Wendy chuckled, bowled over as always by her friend's enthusiasm. "Photography doesn't really work that way," she said. "I mean, photographers tend to be moderately well-known, at best. But still...yeah, it's a great opportunity."

"The best opportunity!" Mabel insisted. "Wendy Corduroy, Master Photographer!"

"More like Wendy Corduroy, Pretty Good Photographer. But thanks for the vote of confidence, Mabes. It means a lot."

"Hey, it's like I've told you before, everyone else already knows you're awesome. You just need to learn that lesson yourself."

Wendy had to admit it. She loved these pep talks from Mabel, even if she felt she didn't entirely deserve them. Mabel still thought of her as the cool older kid who'd guided the Twins through their awkward adolescence, and maybe in a way she was. Besides, at least someone believed in Wendy unconditionally, which was no small thing after years of rejection and ridicule and not fitting in anywhere.

She would always have her dorks. Dipper and Mabel Pines. And that meant the world to her.

"So, what sort of spread are you doing?" Dipper said distractedly, rearranging some snow globes on a shelf.

"Not sure yet," Wendy said, sitting down on the front desk, stroking the Shack's familiar old cash register with mock tenderness. "Think I'm just gonna head out and see what I can find. Put together a theme once I've got what I've got, ya know? Wing it. Have a fun day to myself."

"Wendy, you should know better than anyone, you can't just 'head out' into the woods out here alone and see what happens. There's gonna be some kinda flesh-eating monster or gnome conspiracy or cursed crystals or giant mushrooms waiting to swallow you whole."

"Giant mushrooms? Dude, this isn't Super Mario Brothers!"

"Well, I'd rather that than Fight Fighters..."

"Fair point. Though I am curious how a mushroom might swallow me whole..."

"Let's get off the mushrooms," Dipper insisted. "It just seems to me that you should be ready..."

"I'm always ready, man," Wendy said. She flung up her right arm and brandished a hatchet, startling Dipper.

"How do you do that?" Dipper said in awe.

"Years of practice," she said with a wink, laying the ax down on the desk.

"Don't know why you're worrying about me now," Wendy continued, as her boyfriend turned back to his chore. "It's just gonna be me in the woods with a camera and some animals. No big deal."

"Sounds like famous last words to me," Dipper said. "I just think someone should go with you."

"Dude, seriously. Don't freak out. You know I'm the last person who needs a lecture about being careful in the woods."

"I know, but...I mean, Pacifica and I just went for a trip in the woods and that didn't quite go according to plan."

Ugh...Wendy really didn't want to hear that name right now. But she kept her resentment to herself.

"Sure you don't want me to go with you?" Dipper said. As he turned towards her, he knocked one of the snow

"I'll be fine, Dip," Wendy said. "Besides, I could use a day by myself. You know, hone my skills and be one with nature and all that junk."

"Sounds like fun," Dipper muttered, looking for something to clean up the mess. Soos and Melody entered at that moment.

"Hey Wendy, how's it going?" Soos said.

"What's up, man?"

"Heard about your big news from Mabel," Soos said. "That's awesome, dawg! Like, I knew you liked taking pictures but I didn't think you were that good."

"What can I say? I try not to toot my own horn."

"Okay," Soos said, "but sometimes a toot-worthy horn is worth tooting. Especially when that horn is, like, a camera."

Wendy scratched her head trying to untangle Soos's tortured syntax. Fortunately, Melody stepped in.

"Did you say it was Natural Oregon? My parents subscribe to that magazine! Always loved the pictures they took of the Columbia River back in the day. Still have a really big spread they did on a salmon run about fifteen years ago."

"I'm not doing anything that ambitious," Wendy said. "Just gonna take some pictures around the woods out here."

"Are you gonna photograph the gnomes?" Soos asked. "Seen a lot of them around lately, for some reason. Of course, they don't like getting their picture taken, and they always wanna make a buck from it. Like, that Shmebulock guy, he took a selfie and it ended up in National Geographic, and some gnome rights group ended up suing them and granting him the property rights."

"Well, I won't photograph any gnomes," Wendy promised. "Just normal stuff."

"That's gonna be hard around here," Dipper grumbled.

"Oh, hey Dipper!" Soos said, noticing his friend, then the mess. The two stared at each other for a moment, Dipper hoping that Soos would clean it up, Soos completely oblivious.

"Better clean that up before Stan sees it, dude," Soos said finally. "Ha ha! I'm gonna punch in."

Dipper groaned and rolled his eyes. Fortunately, Melody stepped in, grabbing some paper towels out of a cabinet.

"Always keep these handy in case of a snow globe emergency," she assured Dipper.

"Thanks," Dipper said, starting to clean up the wet.

"So Wendy, what kind of camera do you use?" Melody asked.

"Pix Pro," Wendy said. "Been my go-to for the past year. Gonna go buy a new memory card later today."

"That's awesome," Melody said. "I like taking pictures, but I can't really manage anything more than my iPhone."

"Hey, there's an art to iPhone photos and I sure as hell haven't mastered it," she said. "So if you've got that down, you're ahead of me."

As they talked, Dipper carefully picked up the broken glass and plastic scattered around the snow globe. He wasn't thinking too much about the mess, though it certainly wasn't making him feel better. He was thinking about his girlfriend.

Wondering why she hadn't invited him along for the photo shoot. If there was a real reason besides her working better alone. A reason that involved Pacifica, or possibly Robbie and Tambry.

And it bugged him that it bugged him. Because he was trying so hard to move past the awkwardness they'd been experiencing. And every time he convinced himself that he was worrying too much, thinking too hard, a counter-thought entered his mind.

Like, was he really being clingy? Or paranoid? He knew that Wendy could take care of herself. But he also knew that Gravity Falls could be dangerous to anyone wandering into the woods alone - even a Corduroy.

And he also wondered whether Wendy felt upset about the Pacifica situation. Even though she said she didn't. It was certainly extremely generous of her to help Pacifica and her mom grab a place, but that was just the kind of person Wendy is. But that didn't necessarily mean the two of them were cool on a personal level.

He thought back to the previous Friday night, their argument in bed, their mutual worry and awkwardness over each others' friends and acquaintances and the state of their relationship. How Wendy seemed to lead up to full-on sex, only to cop out with a hand job rather than full-on, proper, adult lovemaking.

He didn't necessarily mind it, but it was something he could do himself, and bespoke lust more than love, something he didn't feel comfortable with, any more than his sister did. Wondered if there was something wrong with him, that she wouldn't give herself to him wholeheartedly.

Still, he tried convincing himself that Wendy, girlfriend or no, needed some time alone, needed to do her thing, and didn't always need a friend or a boyfriend to be safe or have a good time. He was ninety-nine percent confident that Wendy Corduroy, of all people, didn't need watching over, least of all by him.

He just wished that he could be sure.