So here I am with a little shorter chappie today, mainly focusing on Dipper's thoughts before he returns to Gravity Falls. I thought it would be heartbreaking if the twins didn't return to the falls after that first summer, especially considering what Wendy told him minutes before he crossed the Roadkill County border. 452 words—Enjoy!
The old tattered trapper hat sat mere inches from the fifteen-year-old's face. He studied it with the same amount of aplomb he would a textbook before a paper or a microbe during class in Eggbert High School. Of course, it had been tattered when he received it—probably an old Corduroy family gem—but Dipper had tried his darnedest to keep it in pristine condition.
By wearing it everywhere.
It had been nearly three years since the young man had left Gravity Falls, and he still recalled the girl he hadn't seen since the day he left. Gwendolyn Corduroy, despite the near-daily phone calls and bi-weekly video chats, had been completely unseen in person since the day he first left Gravity Falls. Her words still floated like painful stings in the air.
"See you next year."
There was no next year.
Driver's Ed came up in Piedmont early for 13-year-olds, and the young man lost a lot of his summer time to a newfound talent in baseball. Mabel, on the other hand, had gone, and could have spoken for miles about the things she did there and how much the people there missed him. Especially a specific red headed lumberjack princess who seemed to be a bit more melancholy than usual.
The year following preached the same problem, however, a fix was seen clearly. Video chats had become popular late in central Oregon, so when Wendy bought the family's first personal computer, the first thing she did was buy a camera and hope the crappy internet out in the sticks would work for skyping the Piedmont Pine Tree.
They then proceeded to abuse the power of this new communication severely. Minutes, sometimes hours were devoted to the other.
Dipper took a look down at the trapper hat again. May was quickly approaching. Thoughts of that summer and the feelings he held toward the beautiful teenage dream never left him, even throughout these three years.
"This is next summer, Wendy."
He was going to see Wendy again. He had already known that the simple crush he held towards Wendy was no longer considered a petty 'crush' anymore. It was full-blown attraction. How else could he keep it up for three years without ever seeing the girl in person? The thought brought a grin to his face as he examined the few notches in the hat that still held strands of crimson. The thoughts of the Corduroy keepsake tore at the sides of his brain for a few minutes until he came to the conclusion with a smile.
This hat wasn't the keepsake.
This hat meant Wendy.
That summer was his keepsake.