Grow Up

In middle school, Randall Clement had been the guy that everybody picked on. Head stuffed in the toilet, his locker vandalized, name-called by everyone that needed to up their own self-esteem. It had been awful. So. In eighth grade, Randal decided to change his image.

It wasn't easy. It took him a solid year. But eventually, the ass-kissing, the hard labor, and the weightlifting had paid off. He was now a member of the cool crowd, had a decent spot on the football team, and could boast of 180 pounds of solid muscle. Rand was the "chill dude." A sophomore in high school that could claim to be living his glory days to the fullest.

One might assume that Rand would look on those that were bullied with empathy. But that was far from reality. By improving his own situation, he had come to the conclusion that happiness could be gained if you worked for it; and those that chose not to were simply lazy.

Rand heard all about the nerds that got teased by the football team. It was practically a tradition. He didn't feel bad. Most of the time Rand was angry at them for making themselves such easy targets. If they would just grow up and embrace the world, there wouldn't be a good reason for people like the Piedmont Raven's sports stars to be breathing down their backs.

A heavy arm slung across his shoulder as he walked to the cafeteria for lunch hour, "Yo, Rand!"

"What's up, Adam?"

"Not much," the blonde kid answered casually, but Rand could tell he was itching to share something.

Nonchalantly slipping his frame out from underneath the muscular quarterback's grip, he pushed the door open, ignoring the way the other boy walked in like it was his birthright rather than thanking Rand. This was just the way some people were; if you couldn't get used to it, it was your loss.

"You know Shelby, right?" Adam rambled as he piled food onto his lunch tray.

"Yeah." Rand responded, wondering why the other guy even bothered to ask him since Shelby was a cheerleader in his grade and they had been going to all the same parties since freshman year. Of course he knew Shelby.

"Well, we were talking the other day…"

Of course you were talking to her, Rand kept his sarcastic commentary to himself, though with the amount of time you spend staring at her butt it's a wonder you don't talk to it instead.

"The other day Shelby told this freshman that her sweater was pretty, but she was totally lying cause the girl's clothes were ugly as shit – that's what Shelby said. But then this other freshman called her out. Shelby said that he said that her sweater was even prettier and that she should go look at herself in a mirror and re-think her life because she was uglier than a sweater… uh, or something like that. He was totally throwing Shelby's insult back in her face. That kid's a doofus. He probably had no idea who he was talking to. But now he's gonna pay for it."

Adam's ramblings hadn't really given Rand a clear image of the order of events, but one thing was clear: someone was going to get a beat down. Rand usually tried to stay out of these things…

"So whaddya say, buddy. Wanna come with?" They sat down at a table, "I hear this dude eats alone in the courtyard. Easy A, ammirite?"

… But sometimes these things interfered with his social standing. Sacrifices had to be made.

And the way Rand saw it, he'd already made all the sacrifices.

Rand shrugged, "Whatever, dude."

"Yesss!" Adam crowed, "I knew you'd be on board. Trent owes me five bucks. He said you wouldn't be game. He's coming too by the way." The boy slapped Rand's back, "My good 'ol buddy, Rand."

Is that why you ignored me all the way through middle school? Rand thought, but shrugged it off; it wasn't Adam's fault that he wasn't fun to be around when they were twelve.

A few minutes passed while Adam and Rand wolfed down the questionable cafeteria food. Trent showed up slightly late, but wasted no time in shoving food in his face as well. In less than ten minutes, they were done. Probably a record or something.

"Ready?" Adam asked, standing and wiping greasy hands on his pants.

The other two boys nodded, joining him as they made for the exit.

The day was uncharacteristically warm for late October, but Rand enjoyed the rays of sun on his face, even when the notion of what he was about to take part in was sitting uncomfortably in his stomach. The other boys didn't seem to have the same misgivings: they were grinning and shoving one another, having the time of their life. That's what it was like to be born at the top, rather than slaving your way up the food chain.

Their target was situated in the sunlight, leaning against the retaining wall of a berm filled with withering mums. A blue and white cap was pulled down over his eyes to block the glare as he read a heavy book. Brown hair and lanky frame, Rand recognized the kid: Dipper Pines. He was in Rand's accelerated algebra and lit class. Rand knew from the past few months of school that the kid was smart. But, it would seem, that Pines' sharp tongue and razor wit had landed him in a tight spot.

Pines noticed their approach, Rand could tell, but he didn't move from his spot or even bother to look up. Diligently, he continued reading…

"Is that Spanish?" Rand mumbled quizzically. It had slipped out at the same moment Adam stopped the threesome's advance.

"It's Latin, actually." Pines answered without looking up. His voice was quiet and calm despite the fact that three heavily muscled guys were poised less than six feet away from where he stood.

Rand had no idea why anyone would bother to learn Latin except to up their nerdy cred, which Pines had done successfully with that singe sentence. The other two sneered derisively, despite the fact that they could barely read their native language.

"So, Loser, I bet you have a pretty good memory then?" Adam challenged.

"Probably," Pines nodded, turning a page of his book.

"Then you 'probably' remember insulting my girlfriend, twerp."

"I would remember doing something like that if Shelby Dean was your girlfriend, which she's not."

Rand winced. Pines, for all his knowledge, did not seem to understand when to shut up.

In response to Adam's infuriated silence, Pines followed up, "Mabel Pines – you might know of her – she likes to keep me up to date on what's going on in the school's social circles," he scoffed, "Why that matters, I'll never know. But I do know that you, Adam Green, haven't plucked up the courage to ask Shelby out, and are therefore not her boyfriend. Personally, I don't think you really like her; you just like her ass."

Another page turned.

Rand watched as Adam's face went from red to purple, a vein pulsing on his forehead at the sheer audacity of the seemingly helpless freshman.

Adam cracked his knuckles, "Do you have any last words, dweeb, cause I'm about to mess you up so bad you won't be able to talk for a week."

Pines, for the first time since the start of the encounter, looked up over the edge of his book. An amused expression filled his features. It seemed to say: how cute.

Rand wasn't sure what this kid had up his sleeve, but he didn't fancy finding out. He searched for a way out, only it was impossible to run now without losing the cred he'd spent years accruing.

"Audientes halt, sol dim, veniunt ventorum : et praecepit ei dominus." Rand's gaze darted about. The words sounded as if they were echoing from all sides, buzzing opressively about the gaggle of high schoolers.

Rand felt a chill, like the phantom of hundreds of spiders running along his skin. He brushed his arms to get rid of the sensation, but it didn't abate. Suddenly, his ears popped, a hollow whistling noise was all that remained – the deprived feedback of his brain. Fighting the fear rising in his stomach, Rand pressed his hands to his ears to find nothing there. His vision started to darken, and he thought he might be on the verge of passing out.

He squinted at his fellow teammates to see that they had been similarly afflicted. But when he turned to the kid – their victim – he found that the roles had been reversed.

Dipper Pines stood before them, his posture one of confidence, a smirk twisting his lips, his hand on the pages of the thick book. His eyes were glowing icy-white in the sudden darkness.

What the hell?!

The freshman waited less than half a minute, smiling as he watched the football players' terrified confusion: Adam squeezing his eyes shut and possibly whimpering, Trent touching his face compulsively with eyes vacant with horror, and Rand's own petrified posture. Pines finally relented and said something else, and Rand could only guess his words by the movement of his lips.

A rushing sound – like a waterfall – filled his head, and suddenly he could hear Pines saying, "I'm sorry, I didn't catch the last thing you said. My ears went all fuzzy. Can you repeat it?"

He was looking at Adam expectantly, big, brown eyes completing a flawlessly innocent façade.

But Adam looked to be as shaken up as Rand felt; maybe even more so, since he didn't know this kid before today. He seemed to be having a hard time swallowing and is eyes remained fixed on the freshman like Pines might try something given a fraction of a second's opportunity.

"Umm…"

"C'mon, man." Pines grinned at the threesome, but the expression seemed stretched too wide. His cheeks were taut and all his teeth were showing.

"I – I think Shelby had something she wanted to talk about before lunch break was over." Adam backed away, "I better go find her."

Pines nodded, "The period's over in ten minutes. I'd be quick about it if I were you."

Adam nodded nervously and backed away.

"And let Shelby know," Pines' expression darkened, "She better not mess with my sister again."

The quarterback turned and ran back to the cafeteria, Trent right on his heels. However, Rand felt ground to the spot. He needed to know what had just happened.

But when he looked back to the freshman, Pines had returned to reading his book as if nothing abnormal had occurred.

Rand couldn't think of a way to start this conversation, so he simply spat out: "What was that?"

Pines looked him up and down with a critical eye. "What was what?" he responded after a beat.

"Whatever it was you pulled!" he gestured wildly at their surroundings, "The thing with the sound and the light and – and your eyes were glowing!"

Another few seconds ticked by as the freshman eyed Rand critically. It was unnerving.

"Con tricks." Pines shut his book and slid it into his satchel, shouldering the bag as he talked, "I waited for a cloud to cover the sun for dramatic effect. The breeze happened to pick up. I have pop-rock fireworks taped to the bottom of my shoe, so when I shift my weight, they go off. I have a book light attached to the bottom lid of my hat so that the angle makes a glare on my face. So what?"

"That's not what happened." Rand objected.

To prove his point, Pines twisted his foot in the gravel and three popping sounds filled the empty courtyard in quick succession.

"That's not good enough. I know that's not what happened." He was starting to ramble.

The kid just shrugged, walking past him as he said, "I don't like people messing with me – or my sister for that matter – but it tends to happen a lot so I'm always prepared."

That hit a nerve.

"They wouldn't pick on you if you weren't such a recluse!" he accused as he turned to watch the freshman's retreating back.

Pines faced him, that weary, always-exhausted look Rand was used to seeing in class was plainly etched on his face. Gone was the confidence in his stance. He wasn't hiding behind pizazz and parlor tricks this time. This was a straight up dose of Dipper Pines.

The kid gripped the strap of his book bag tighter, "I like the way I am." Brown eyes darkened, "It would be dumb to disown the experiences that made me this way. Sure, some of it sucks. I'm an easy target; I get picked on all the time; but I know that changing isn't worth it."

"Yes it is!" Rand insisted, "I used to be like you too, and…"

"And apparently you didn't have people who already appreciated you for who you were." Dipper interrupted.

Randall remembered his father telling him to toughen up, stop crying, and stop being such a girl. His mother who was constantly working, and when she was home, was too tired to acknowledge his presence. His friend in 5th grade that had moved away, promising to message him, only to inform Randall six months later that he'd been replaced with way cooler pals.

"I don't deny that becoming stronger is good, as long as it's for yourself and the people you love." Pines continued, "If you're only in the game to feed your own ego, you'll be empty and unhappy."

Randall clenched his fists looking down at his feet in frustration. This stupid kid couldn't just disassemble his lifelong lesson with a few sentences. "You wouldn't know." He ground out.

"I know lots of things." Pines answered, and Rand caught a painful smile on the kid's face, "But you wouldn't believe me. Magic is real; the apocalypse is coming; buy gold. Bye!"

Dipper Pines left the courtyard with one arm raised in farewell, leaving Rand wondering what the hell that was all about. And realizing that he never got an answer to his initial question: what was that?

I'M SO HAPPY! I had written this one a while back, but my old laptop kicked the bucket and I thought I lost it in the transit to my new laptop. I was just going through some old emails today and found that I had emailed it to myself. YAY! So I just decided to update it next ;D

I'm starting to deviate from my previous layout of alternating stories that focus on Dipper and Mable. Honestly, Dipper is my fave lil… turd, so I have a lot more ideas for him. If anyone wants to throw some ideas my way for Mabel, I'd love to hear them.

Also, I've had a few people comment on the crap that "happens in high school" is really depressing, and I just want to remind the readers that the scenarios I write are purely for dramatic effect. High school isn't that bad… at least from what I can remember.

BTW: the new episode of Gravity Falls was stellar!

Thanks for reading!