do you know who you are?
Pacifica's first class goes by without incident. Which is good, obviously… but also strange. Good, because she wants her first day to go well, and strange because she isn't used to drawing no attention beyond scattered glances. She's not exactly invisible, it's just that no one seems to care who she is. Maybe that's self-centered of her, to notice that. Maybe it's just too late in the school year for anyone to care. It's not like they'll get a chance to know her.
At her old school she would have expected some more judgment; her shoes are very last year, after all. Her social status in private school had been carefully tended to, buoyed by expertly deployed outfits and tactically superb flattery or barbed bon mots. By contrast, in Gravity Falls she was (and it is past tense now, she supposes) a trendsetter, a social queen by default. Of a very small fiefdom, sure; she had always chosen to ignore that part. Looking back, she can see how her pageant of a summer life had always carried an air of desperation. She'd needed to be loved somewhere, even if it was grudging and conditional.
Now she's building something better. She has to believe that.
And it's so easy to believe when she can still feel the warm press of Dipper's lips against her own.
It's second period and she hides the faint blush rising to her cheeks behind her history book. She isn't paying much attention to her lesson, both because of her preoccupation and because she's already covered The New Deal in her old classes. Her history of expensive private schooling, equally expensive tutors, and the Northwest expectation to excel has allowed her to slip into the end of the school year in Piedmont without much trouble. She's in the process of completing some standardized testing, her grades have been transferred, and she's more or less riding out what little remains of school until summer arrives.
After that… well, so much of her future remains up in the air. If Mother and Father divorce (which seems inevitable by this point), she could end up anywhere in the world with one parent or the other. Each have their downsides but given the choice she would rather stay with her mother. Mother's inattention grants greater personal freedoms. Both parents have high expectations, it's just that Father is more likely to enforce them. And after the incident with the bell (and Weirdmageddon—because, no, she hasn't gotten over what he tried to pull) she doesn't want to talk to him. Not for a long while.
Pacifica hates to even think about it. She's spent such comparatively little time in Dipper and Mabel's company, but already the thought of leaving them…
She can't go back to how things were. She won't.
And this thing, this growing something she has with Dipper; it's nothing complete, just a possibility, the faintest promise. What it could be, she doesn't know. All she knows is that she wants to be closer to him than she is. And she's trying. She doesn't know if that's enough, but it has to be. What else can she do? She can't take back all the things she said and did last summer. Life doesn't work like that. Not without a time machine, anyway, which actually exist according to Dipper (she was going to win Waddles in some other timeline, which is such a weird thing to be told and she still doesn't know what to think about it). She doesn't have one, though, so too bad. Besides, even if she did, wouldn't changing how things went last summer change how things are now? She doesn't want that.
The bell rings, startling her. She places her book into her bag and walks out with the rest of the students.
She stops near the intersection of two halls to consult her schedule. She wrinkles her nose; next up is PE. She has nothing against maintaining a proper figure, but the gym clothes she's been given are less than flattering. She is also reluctant to display any of the pale scars around her ankles and feet. Weirdmageddon had not left her physically unscathed. She knows she's lucky to be alive, they all are; she just doesn't care for the reminder every time she looks at her bare feet.
She girds herself and turns in what she hopes is the right direction when a blur of brown and pink suddenly appears in her field of vision and drags her bodily in the opposite direction.
It's Mabel, obviously. Pacifica rolls her eyes but allows herself to be pulled out of the path of the crowd.
Mabel appears almost frenzied. Whatever she wants, she must have been holding it in for a while. Her finger comes flying up and points at Pacifica like a triumphant spear. "I told you you liked him a lot!" she declares jubilantly.
Pacifica blushes; she can't help it. That doesn't stop her from glaring back at Mabel. "What did you hear?"
"Oh, nothing much," Mabel says coyly. "School news, sports news, you tonguing Dipper news—"
"I did not!"
"Then what did happen tell-me-tell-me-tell-me!" Mabel says frantically.
Pacifica briefly considers walking away, though it's not like she can escape when Mabel will be waiting at home. Besides, even if Pacifica is personally involved, she can't deny it's some momentous gossip. Last summer, this would have shocked the whole town.
Who knows? It still might.
"I kissed Dipper," Pacifica admits, and it doesn't sound any more real or plausible when stated out loud. Pacifica Northwest does not kiss Dipper Pines, even though she had, and it was perfect.
Mabel pushes her cheeks together and makes a noise that only dogs and people under twenty can hear.
Pacifica appreciates how stunning this news is, but she's going to be late for next period. "Mabel, I know this is a big deal, but I'm going to be late!"
Mabel snaps out of her hearts-and-rainbows trance and grabs Pacifica by the hand. "It's this way, but later you're telling me everything!"
Pacifica had forgotten her next class is with Mabel. She spends the period trying to play volleyball, which usually isn't a problem because she's good at it. However, Mabel's ambush has brought the kiss back to the forefront of her mind: his hand on her shoulder, the warmth of his presence, the press of his lips against hers (soft, shy, slightly chapped). He left behind his bookish scent and the gentle burn of menthol lip balm. Oh, geez, is she getting all sentimental about his Carmex? She's totally lost it. Between Weirdmageddon, the ghost, and the impending divorce, she's misplaced her old life along with her mind.
It feels wonderful. She's never been so lost or so alive.
After class, she shrugs out of her gross PE uniform and back into appropriate fashion as quickly as possible. She's chosen a vacant locker next to Mabel's and is now slightly regretting it due to Mabel's sly glances. The smugness Mabel is emitting is practically a palpable vapor. Pacifica sets her jaw and refuses to look over at the other girl. But the fact that Mabel was probably right about Pacifica's feelings before Pacifica herself even knew means she's going to be insufferable until Pacifica caves in. And while Pacifica has her virtues, patience is not one of them. If she ends up trapped in a house with an increasingly self-satisfied Mabel, she's going to snap in a couple hours, tops.
"Soooo… I hear you have a crush on a certain someone's brotherrrrrr…" Mabel whispers gleefully as the locker room begins to empty.
Pacifica slams her locker shut and spins the lock with more force than necessary. "Would that be your brother, Mabel?" she drawls acridly.
"Yes!" Mabel exults. "Oh my gosh, it's so perfect! My brother, my best friend—and way better than last time."
Pacifica freezes. "Wait, 'last time?'" Is Mabel talking about Wendy? No, she can't be. That never actually happened. Right?
"Candy is awesome, but she just wasn't right for Dipper. I was blinded by the possibility of best-friend-and-brother-romance. I flew too close to the sun," Mabel muses. "But this isn't summer love. Or even an epic summer romance! This is soul-bonding destiny love! No seasonal restrictions! Just year-round romance, against all odds, no matter what dumb old society says! A love for the ages…" Mabel's voice lowers to a reverent whisper.
Pacifica doesn't know about living up to that kind of expectation (she'll get back to the thing with Candy; is that the big weird girl or the small weird girl?). She's only almost fourteen. What does destiny love feel like, if there's even such a thing?
No, you know what, it doesn't matter because Mabel is crazy. And so is Pacifica, because she kissed a dork and loved it. Sick. That dork happens to be smart and cute and stronger than he looks and brave beyond all reason, but still… He wears a trucker cap and keeps an annotated journal. She should be mocking him behind his back or to his face and keeping her distance because, ew, nerd vibes.
God, she likes him so much.
Mabel is still waxing semi-poetic. "You're like Romeo and Juliet except you know how to talk like people!"
That brings Pacifica up short. "Um, Mabel—they, like, died."
"Only because they were really, really dumb. You and Dipper are totally smarter than them," Mabel says dismissively. "You guys are more of a musical power couple. Something modern, maybe kind of Disney Channel-y?"
Pacifica is so over this conversation. "Look, we haven't even talked about it. And I guess you're a spaz for matchmaking or whatever, but don't be."
Mabel is crestfallen. "You're just going to leave it at that?!"
That isn't what Pacifica means. She can easily imagine a future where she turns from Dipper, never kisses him again, never talks about it as she slowly refreezes and walks with the cheerleaders or whoever it is that's popular in this lame school. When she passes him at his locker, she will see his hurt or anger from the corner of her distant eye and it will reflect off the perfection she projects. And somewhere deep in an unvarnished corner of her Northwest-jacketed soul she will scream and scream and scream.
It's so easy to picture. It would be so easy to do. It's what she's supposed to do.
It makes her stomach churn. Needles of burgeoning panic prick at her thumping heart. She can't do it. She can't she can't she won't—
Mabel must notice Pacifica's suddenly shaken demeanor. Her dismay turns to concern. "Pacifica?"
"I— I need to talk to him. I will," Pacifica says, taking a deep breath.
Mabel brightens. "Yes! You totally should do that!"
Pacifica nods as she steadies herself. What was that? A panic attack? A premonition? She's pushing it back down, but she can't quite help herself; there's something naked and desperate at the back of her throat.
"Please don't let me change back," she abruptly begs, and she is so ashamed but still so needy.
Mabel grips Pacifica's hands without hesitation. "You would never," she says.
In this moment, Pacifica can believe it because Mabel does.