Chapter 2

Mabel loved that there were mandatory classes, because it meant that her and Dipper being the same age and also being alphabetical neighbors would have at least a few freshman classes together. One of these was English composition, a class where she knew her brother excelled, and she didn't. Ha! Built in cheat code! I'll sooo pass this class!

"Miss PINES!"

Ooops. The entire class was staring at her as the middle aged teacher with salt and pepper hair folded her arms and started walking closer to Mabel's desk.

"Sorry Mrs. Weber, uh…what was the question?" and she tried to reach her ears with her smile as her eyebrows were apologetic.

Smiles now bloomed across the class, and as the teacher stood over Mabel, the hapless freshman could see in the front row her brother face palming and shaking his head.

"Give me an example of a 19th century writer. From the list you were supposed to read on page 58 in yesterday's homework."

"Uh…" Mabel glanced at Dipper, who was now seated behind and thus invisible to the teacher. He knew she could read his lips very well if he would only give her a hint, and could see her pleading and confused look naked in her face. It screamed "help me!".

He turned around to face the chalkboard. Mabel looked up at Mrs. Weber.

"Winston… Churchill?"

Giggles and even a couple of laughs now let loose in the class. Mabel flushed and then saw her brother lay his head down on the desk.

Dipper knew that wasn't in the list, but technically, she was right: Churchill did write and publish in the 19th century. But…Mabel needed to learn to do her homework. He remained silent and embarrassed.

"Blind luck Miss Pines, but that was not one of the choices and so not acceptable." The teacher whirled around quickly. "An American writer of the 19th century…Mister Pines?"

He cleared his throat. "Edgar Allan Poe."

"Very good Mr. Pines." She looked over her shoulder at Mabel, who now looked down at her desk. You should follow your brother's example blah blah your brother blah BLAAAARGH. Here it comes…

"Perhaps Miss Pines you should ask your brother for some tutoring. It would be a shame to waste such a resource."

More chuckles and muffled laughs. Dipper looked up to the ceiling. Mabel could see him whisper why me?

After class Mabel waited outside the door, she knew she had embarrassed her brother again but this time in front of a teacher, and she knew he idolized teachers.

But when he came out he saw her and immediately turned and walked quickly in the other direction.

"Di…Tyrone! Wait! Wait please?" And she ran to his side. But he ducked into the boys restroom.

"Hey Mabel!" Mabel turned around to see three girls holding books and smiling.

"I won't waste your resource! Haha! Tell your brother I need tutoring!"

And they turned around laughing and left. Mabel started walking to her next class, wiping her eyes.

…

In the stall, Dipper was thinking. He was always thinking, in fact sometimes he thought he would never be able to shut off his brain, but right now he was not only thinking but feeling.

That look…on her face…I should have helped her. She needed me and…I always help her! But…this time…

Guilt began to weigh heavy on him. That look…on her face…but no! That would be cheating. He sat up straight. I have nothing to feel guilty about. It would have been wrong for me to…help…her.

The guilt became heavier. Grimacing he looked up at the ceiling "Oh hell…" He got up to go and find Mabel…if the next class hadn't started yet.

…

In Math there was no Mabel to be seen.

"Tyrone, is your sister ill today?" Dipper stopped looking around and sat down. Should I cover for her?

"I think so Mr. Shannon, she came for first period but then started feeling bad. She may have gone home."

The tall and thin math instructor allowed a brief moment of compassion.

"Sorry to hear that. Would you please make sure she gets today's assignment?"

"Yeah, sure."

Where is she? She must have gone home.

The guilt made listening in classes a little hard that day.

…

The last bell rang and Dipper/Tyrone dashed to the bike rack. Yeah, her bike is gone.

It was lonely riding home without her like they usually did. His twin-think kicked in. She probably felt alone too as she went home.

All the way home he planned what he would say, his apology, and even an awkward hug, if she would let him.

But when he arrived home, he didn't find her bike on the side of the garage. He looked in front and in the garage itself, and finally the backyard. No white bike with stickers and plastic pig snout on the handlebars anywhere.

Where is she?