"So 'woods' is pretty broad in terms of destination," Dipper said to the back of Wendy's head, as she forged into the darkness between the trees, and he tried to keep up. "Also, don't you need a flashlight?"

Wendy laughed, and without looking back, answered him. "What, do you want specific coordinates, man? I'm taking you somewhere I know you've never been—that's all you need to know."

Dipper sighed, then cursed quietly as he stumbled over a fallen branch which Wendy had nimbly avoided. "What about that flashlight, though?"

Wendy shrugged. "I know where I'm going and I have good night vision. Why, need me to hold your hand?" she teased, as she stopped and turned, waiting for him to catch up. He was moving slowly, and squinting down at his feet.

"No," said Dipper firmly, just before he tripped over an exposed root and, in an attempt to regain his footing, collided face-first with a tree. "Ow, fuck," he muttered, rubbing his nose. He glanced up at Wendy to see her eyes glinting at him in the moonlight filtering through the trees, a small smirk on her lips. He let out a defeated sigh, and held his hand out to her. "Yes."

Wendy chuckled to herself, took his hand, and turned to lead on, walking a bit slower than she had been previously.

Dipper was immediately aware of how cold and clammy his hand must feel in her firm, warm grip. He still had feelings for her after all these years, and the pact they had made on the evening of his fourteenth birthday had been weighing heavily on his mind lately. Wendy's stipulation had been that they not discuss his feelings for her before his eighteenth birthday, and although he wanted to bring it up now (even though he wasn't technically eighteen until 9:07a.m.), he couldn't think of a way to just weave it into conversation, without point blank saying 'hey, remember back when I was fourteen and you said you'd go on a date with me once I was eighteen as long as I didn't talk about my crush or make things awkward until then?' Oh, and gods all forbid he just 'make a move' on her. It would seem to Wendy like it was just coming out of nowhere, and she'd probably freak.

The problem was, since Dipper had followed Wendy's instructions to the letter, and they had been strictly platonic friends since, with no allusions on his part otherwise, he had no idea if she was receptive to the idea of a date with him at all anymore. What if he brought it up, and the conversation had been so inconsequential to Wendy that she didn't even remember having it? He would be mortified, and he knew Wendy would as well. What if that was the case, and it made things so awkward between them that it ended their friendship? The thought of that happening made Dipper feel sick to his stomach. Wendy was his absolute best friend in the world, even more-so than Mabel (although Mabel didn't need to know that). During the school year, when he was back in Piedmont and Wendy was living on her university's campus, they texted multiple times daily, and video-chatted whenever possible. Losing her friendship would be like losing a limb. He simply couldn't imagine what it would be like to live without her.

"You're being awful quiet, dude," Wendy commented over her shoulder. "Something on your mind?"

"Oh, uh," Dipper said, attempting to think on his feet, which was not his strong suit. "Just thinking I now know how it feels to be the sacrificial virgin in a B horror movie, being led into the forest to my inevitable slaughter at the hands of a cult. Or something." Dipper was proud to have come up with a plausible answer that worked in their shared love of bad movies, and expected Wendy to laugh at his observation, or at least exhale air more forcefully than normal through her nostrils.

"Wait, are you really still a virgin?" Wendy sounded surprised, and genuinely curious.

Dipper had not expected that question. His entire body felt like it rose a degree or two in temperature, and he was glad it was dark, so that Wendy couldn't see the alarming shade of red he was sure he'd turned. Both he and Wendy had had romantic relationships with others throughout the span of their friendship, although neither was in one now—but other than discussing annoying little things their current significant others did, they didn't really talk about them to each other. Definitely not about the physical side of their relationships.

"Heh, I wh—uh," Dipper stammered. It was true, although his comment moments ago hadn't been meant to be taken as an admission. He held no assumptions that Wendy was a virgin, so he supposed he shouldn't be surprised that she'd thought the same of him. The surprise in her voice had felt good, but it also stung. It just made everything he'd been thinking about even more awkward.

"Sorry, dude, didn't mean to put you on the spot," Wendy said after it became apparent that Dipper was unable to make words. "You don't have to answer. I get it—it's private." She squeezed his hand, and Dipper squeezed back, grateful for her understanding, but still feeling like a total loser.

They walked in not-quite-awkward-but-not-entirely-comfortable silence for a few minutes, before Dipper composed himself enough to be able to talk again—as long as it wasn't about his intact virginity.

"We've been going for awhile," he observed. "Is where you're taking me really out of the way?"

Wendy nodded. "You could say that. It's one of the reasons for your two a.m. wake-up call. I wanted to be able to hang with you for a good while at our destination, but still get you back in time for your birthday party later today. Mabel would freaking kill me if I caused you to miss it."

Dipper inhaled sharply. "Oof, good call. Mabel takes her parties a little too seriously."

Wendy chuckled. "Yeah, when I told her my plans for you, she threatened to cut me if you weren't back for the party. She was doing crafts at the time we talked, and, no joke, your sister shook her exacto knife at me."

"You told Mabel about this? Does she know where you're taking me?"

Wendy scoffed. "Dude, that's what you're worried about here? Your twin sister threatened me with what is essentially a scalpel."

"Meh," Dipper said with a shrug. "You're Wendy fucking Corduroy. I still remember your epic badassery during Weirdmageddon. You could definitely take my sister, exacto knife or not."

Dipper heard Wendy inhale as if she was about to argue, but she blew the breath out and said, with a smile in her voice that Dipper could hear, "Well, yeah. You're not wrong."

After several more moments of silence, Dipper asked, "So you're not going to mention this little conversation to Mabel, right?"

Wendy laughed and squeezed his hand. "Are you kidding? I don't want to die."

Dipper squeezed back and nodded. "That's probably a wise decision."