Dipper fiddled with the paper in his hands, examining each piece of writing, each signature from his friends, each -

"What's that on the back?" Mabel pointed at the black smudge barely visible on the folded back section of the paper the twins had received from their friends.

Dipper strained his eyes to view the small, immaculate writing. Call me later, loser. The message was accompanied by a perfectly written phone number, the smudges were clearly from Dipper's sweat and not an error of the author.

"Ooh, my brother's got someone's number." Mabel nudged her twin with her elbow, "Who do you think it is?"

"Hey, how do you know it's for me? And how would I know who it is?" Dipper didn't like that Mabel probably thought it was for him based off-

"The word loser. Nobody would call me that!" Mabel exclaimed quite proudly, "We have Wendy and Soos' numbers, neither of our grunkles probably knows what a phone is…"

While his sister was rambling on about who it could be, Dipper himself was thinking the same thing, albeit, in a less cluttered manner, The handwriting's kind of messy, and familiar, and they don't seem to have a high opinion of me. That last piece of information seemed to hold the most value to him as his eyes suddenly widened and he broke Mabel out of her muttering spree.

"I think it's Pacifica."

"WHAT?!" Mabel screamed so loud that the bus driver turned his head back to make sure everything was alright, before shaking his head and returning to watching the road, "Omigosh, omigosh, omisgosh, you got Pacifica's number!" she grabbed his shoulders and started shaking him back and forth, "Call her now, like right now!"

"We left five minutes ago, Mable, in case you forgot." Dipper chuckled, placing the folded up paper into his pocket, the smile adorning his face being caught by Mabel, "I also don't have a phone."

"Of course I know. Aggressive flirting is the key to any successful relationship." Mabel states matter of factly, pointing her finger up to accentuate her point.

"I think I finally figured out why your romance never works out." Dipper had managed to keep his cool outwardly - an incredibly rare thing - but he was internally screaming.

Finally, something goes right for me with girls! Sure, Pacifica hadn't been the first girl he liked, but after they had saved each other at her mansion, and both worked together, begrudgingly on Pacifica's part, to save Mable from Mr. What's His Face, he felt, something there, nothing major, like Wendy, nope! He just knew she was different from her relatives. Nothing like his crush on Wendy at all, and - Oh god it's the same exact thing, isn't it?

"I recognize that look on your face, that pouty, thinky face you get whenever you start overthinking things." she blew a raspberry, "You're overthinking about Pacifica, aren't you?" she took his silence as confirmation, "Well stop that, I think she likes you!"

"In case you haven't noticed, my track record with girls hasn't exactly been that great." Dipper sighed, dejectedly looking at his feet, "I've only failed at it."

"Pssh, that's not true." Mable waved her hand at him, pulling out her phone, "You just shouldn't have flirted with so many girls at once. Anyway…" she quirked her brows up and down, "A little birdy tells me some-one has a crush on you…" she showed her brother the conversation between Pacifica and her after she got her face back.

"Really? Like, seriously?" Dipper put his finger on his chin, "Maybe I should get a phone." seeing Mable's sly look, he pre-emptively answered, "And no! I'm not gonna ask her out…"

…

…

…

"I'll do that when we go back."

"What? Bro, you can't wait that long. She'll lose interest!" Mabel shifted in her seat, after securing Waddles, exasperated at her brother.

"Well, we can't go on a date when I'm ten hours away." Dipper pointed out, feeling satisfied with his twin's temporary silence.

"But you can still flirt with her!" Mable shot her hands into the air, fists balled, "And you should! Or at least let me do it for you! I'm like an expert at it!"

"No offense Mable, but you're awful at it." Dipper pointed out, literally this time.

"Weren't you the one who told me that saying 'no offense' before something doesn't make it not offensive? And besides, you said it yourself, you're not such a great flirter yourself." Mable slumped further into her seat.

"That's not true, I got four numbers and Candy asked me on a date when we destr - sabato - embellished those tourist traps." the bus driver probably wouldn't care about those attractions, but he most certainly wasn't paid enough to be forced to hold such a secret.

"Yeah, and what happened when you actually went on that date, Dipper?"

"I didn't feel that way about Candy. This time it'll be different." Dipper rationalized, more to himself than his eccentric sister.

"At least let me help, Dipper." Mable's shockingly serious tone was caught by the boy, before being replaced by the silly actions of her moving her hands as though caught in an explosion, "I don't want it to blow up in your face like mine did for me. Plus, I am a girl, I'll know how to talk to her."

Dipper swallowed, unsure of what course of action would be best now, "Uh… sure. I mean, it might be good practice for you, too."

"Yeah, whatever, Mr. Northwest." Mable said before nodding off.

Needless to say, Harvey was very confused when his son insisted on getting a phone, despite never having shown any desire for one beforehand. (Of course, he obliged.)