Two years. Two excruciatingly long years. That's how long Mabel had felt like this, and she had kept it in the whole time. She could never tell anyone, not a soul; she would take this to her grave. Only, she hoped that eventually, if she ignored these feelings for long enough, they would fade. Probably a side effect of teenage hormones and angst, the run of the mill crush on and random boy.

Only this boy wasn't random. The subject of her feelings could not have been worse if she had tried to choose herself. The universe works in strange ways, we all know that, but she couldn't help but ask herself, why him?

Why did this boy have to be her own twin brother?

She stared at him over her bowl of cereal, her jumbled morning thoughts bouncing around her head as she pondered her existence. He flipped through a book as he ate his own cereal, happily oblivious to Mabel and everything else around him. He tended to do that when he read; he would get so immersed in the book that he was basically untouched by the outside world.

Mabel almost wished he would just look up and catch her staring. She almost wished he would somehow find out, and the secrecy would end, and all this would finally be over.

But she knew she could never do it. She could never face him and tell him the truth, and she would die knowing that.

Her parents walked into the room, already smiling and ready for their day, despite it being morning. Mabel could never understand morning people.

"How're my favorite twins?" Her dad asked, ruffling Dipper's already messy hair.

"We're your only twins," Mabel mumbled.

"Mmhm," Dipper added thoughtfully.

Their mother approached the table with a coffee mug in hand, wrapping an arm around her husband. "Oh honey, where's that classic Mabel enthusiasm?"

"It's morning," Mabel reminded her mother.

Her mother only chuckled and returned to the kitchen. Mabel sighed, stirring her cereal absentmindedly. She couldn't work up her appetite, not with him right in front of her.

Speaking of him, she peeked up at him, and to her surprise, he was staring at her.

Dipper's face flushed and his eyes darted down. "Sorry for staring at you, I, uh, zoned out there for a second."

Mabel forced a laugh, despite her racing heart. At least she had caught him staring instead of the other way around.

"You're fine," she replied, hating the fake smile she wore.

"Kids! You're gonna be late for school!"

Thank God, Mabel thought, anything to get out of that. What a nightmare.

"Okay!" She shouted, practically leaping from her seat.

Soon the twins were in their shared car, on the way to school. Mabel had opted to drive as usual, if only to keep her mind off Dipper. She had said before that she couldn't talk to him while driving and had to focus, and since then he had left it at that, always bringing a book along for the ride.

She could only hope that all the distancing she did wouldn't raise his suspicions. But knowing Dipper, he might catch on. And then it would all go downhill from there.

At this point though, she couldn't fear what might happen. It would consume her more than the crush itself already had. That would reduce her to nothing.

All she wanted was an escape, if only temporary one. Being around him 24/7 was starting to take its toll on her, and she had realized that her old self was practically gone. Gone was the fun, happy Mabel that giggled and never cared what others thought. She was replaced with a depressed, anxiety-ridden shell of her former self. And Mabel hated that this dumb crush had done so much damage on her, and she hated even more that she could do nothing about it.

She had tried forgetting it, pretending the crush didn't exist. That of course was useless; her feelings were ever-persistent and took every chance they could to make themselves known. Next she had tried her fake-it-til-you-make-it idea, when she had tried to feign happiness until she would be tricked into actually being happy.

Finally, she had tried replacing him, which proved to be her worst idea yet. That had worsened her problems exponentially.

She could still remember-

"MABEL!"

Mabel snapped back to reality just in time. She slammed on the brakes before the car could careen into the oncoming traffic of an intersection. The vehicle skidded to a halt, the body lurching forward and bringing the twins with it.

Once the car settled, Dipper warily turned to his sister, who sat rigidly behind the wheel, her eyes wide and staring straight ahead. A silent tear rolled down her cheek.

"...Mabel?" He prodded. "Y-You almost ran that red light."

His voice seemed to bring her back from the shock. She blinked, a few more tears pushing themselves out as she looked down.

"I-I'm sorry," she stammered, breathing heavily.

Dipper frowned. "Are... are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she answered quickly, hastily wiping her face on her sleeve. "I just zoned out, I guess."

Dipper's concern deepened at the repetition of his words from breakfast. He had known for quite some time that Mabel was... off. Maybe not quite depressed; she still laughed and had fun at times, but maybe it was fake? He suspected maybe it was, that any happiness she showed was just a facade for the sadness underneath. Today she was especially out of it- He had known since he saw her frowning at her uneaten cereal this morning that she was in a bad mood.

He didn't think it would come to almost getting in an accident. This raised his suspicions to a whole new level. If she couldn't even tune out her thoughts while she drove, then this was more serious than he thought. Alarms blared in his head, voices shouting for him to help her, to ask what was so wrong.

I just did idiot, and she said she was fine.

Well she's obviously not fine!

I know, but she's not going to open up so easily!

The argument in the boy's head continued as Mabel drove along, this time obeying the light.

He couldn't decide whether he should continue to press her or leave it alone for now, but before he knew it they were at school. He didn't get to decide- the latter was picked for him, for Mabel was already halfway across the lot, leaving him alone in the car. He sighed as he watched her walk briskly and stiffly, completely unlike her usual bouncy mannerisms.

He would just have to find the right time to ask, but that time was not now.