Wendy didn't act normal at work. Instead of slacking off like usual, she actually wanted to do something—only to get her mind off her dream.
The thing was, she couldn't even tell if it was a dream. It felt so real, yet she never left her bed; this is what she thought about as she swept the floor of the gift shop.
She hummed some of her favorite indie songs to herself to try and get something else stuck in her head besides the image of Bill. It was hard. She could hear his demonic laugh echoing through her brain; he was just taunting her, and she knew it. She knew he was trying to find a place to put her in his game.
Coming to that realization didn't lessen her stress.
A few times before the end of the day, Soos, Mabel, and Dipper came into the room. Soos would always say hello and ask if she needed help, to which she said no, and that she was okay. It wasn't until near the end of the day that Mabel came to get something for Stan when she noticed.
"Wendy?" Mabel asked. Wendy glanced up from her magazine, which she had finally retreated to.
"Mhmm?"
"Is everything okay?" She snatched a pen off the counter. "Oh, also, how much did Stan say we're marking up those fragile items? He wants me to remind him so he can raise the price tomorrow morning."
"Oh, yeah, uh... It was like, forty-five percent." She yawned, trying to put on a smile."And I'm just tired."
Mabel didn't look like she believed her, but she said, "Thanks, Wendy. And have fun!" Then she ran back upstairs.
Wendy rolled her eyes and went back to her magazine, only to hear the cuckoo clock go off minutes later. It was time to leave. So she gathered her things, and was putting on her jacket when someone came running down the stairs.
Wendy turned towards the employees only door to see Dipper say, "Hey," and he was now standing beside her.
She slipped her left arm through her jacket. "Hey, dude. You been reading all day?"
"Not all day," he said. "But, uh, I came down here because Mabel said you seemed sad."
Wendy smiled slightly, patting Dipper on the shoulder. "It's nothing to worry about, dude."
"But something's wrong?"
"...Uh... Yeah..." She frowned then, realizing he had probably encountered this problem. She tightened her hand on his shoulder. "Hey, look, I'm supposed to go home soon, but I can probably call my dad and ask to stay over longer so we can talk."
Dipper raised an eyebrow. "Is it... is it that big of a problem?"
"Probably."
"Oh." Wendy could see the worry in her friend's eyes. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed her home number, motioning for Dipper to be quiet.
"Dad?"
"Wendy! Did something happen?" She could hear her dad shoving her younger brothers away from his legs, like he always did when he was on the phone.
"I just need to stay late at the Shack tonight. Uh, Stan needs some help fixing something. It's not enough for both Dipper and Mabel to finish by tomorrow." Wendy hated to lie to her dad, but he wouldn't let her stay if he knew she just wanted to talk about her problems.
"Well you need to—Hey! You two! Off!—be home. You said you would make dinner tonight. Wendy, you can't change your plans like this."
"I'm sorry. Look, Dad, I need to be here, and I'll probably end up falling asleep here anyways, so I'll just see you sometime tomorrow."
"You need to come home, now!"
"Dad, please. I'll make up for it. Please. Just this once."
There was a long pause before he grumbled, "You're going to have a lot to do around the house."
Wendy sighed. "Yeah... I know..."
"Then get to work now or don't bother being there to help," her dad told her.
"Bye, Dad." Wendy shut her phone, exhaling deeply.
"So... are you staying?" Dipper questioned her. When she nodded, he added, "To the roof?"
"Yeah," Wendy told him. "The sodas are on me this time."