You Never Change

by apersonwholikes

A/N: This version of the story is discontinued. The new version/continuation is currently in the writing process. Now an adult, Mason "Dipper" Pines lives on his own. His life is like any other, normal, boring. But what happens when an all too familiar face (The snobby rich-girl from his childhood, Pacifica Northwest) comes back into his life?

14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen—It's Not My Fault

"Looks like a car accident from here…" I said, my hands still on the steering wheel and my car moving at two miles an hour. (Okay, that's an exaggeration, but you get what I mean.)

"Yeah…" Dipper said, sort-of staring off into space.

He didn't reply after that.

Down the road were three cars, smoke coming from all of them. One was rammed into a streetlight—which was now titled quite a bit to the side—the second was stuck in the rear end of the first, while the third was against both the second, and one of the wooden poles that held the electrical cords running throughout the area. It was an utter mess on the road, itself, too.

I tried my best to find a lane where I could somehow get the hell away from all this craziness, but it didn't seem possible.

"What a mess…" Dipper mumbled under his breath. His eyes were halfway to wide as hell, and the only thing remotely saturated on his face was his nose—like usual, there was still some purple under his eyes, at least.

I didn't respond, but I spared him a glance before looking back at the road. It took a while—I believe we had sat there for about another fifteen-twenty minutes before it happened—but a small clearing in a turning lane had showed up; which meant that traffic had begun to pick up, and we could finally get as far from the incident as possible.

As soon as it was my turn to go, I pushed down on the peddle, though still going slowly, and turned the steering wheel into the direction of the upcoming road. Though, to be blunt, I had a vague idea of where we may end up, I continued driving down the road, sparing a quick glance at every other house that passed us by.

We had, finally, been able to speed up a bit more—we'd now been further from the accident, and the roads were calm, for the most part—when Dipper spoke up in the silence.

"Do you know where you're going?" He asked, taking a look at his watch.

"Sort of," He gave me a side glance that practically yelled 'Fucking idiot', "I don't live in Piedmont, so I don't spend my life driving around the area all the time!"

Dipper just rolled his eyes and looked to the right—out the window.