WARPED

Chapter 19

Hazelle didn't like it one bit.

"Look, how 'bout this," Jocelyn was saying, exhausted with Hazelle's worrying. "We'll ask her tonight. We'll get her alone and talk it out. But let's just see what happens for right now. If she's still like she was last night, we not even be able to find her."

"That's the point," Hazelle hissed.

Jocelyn groaned. "You're lucky you're my best friend or else I'd be strangling you right now. Look, she's not a baby—she can do what she wants. If her secrets become a problem, we'll intervene. But at least for today, can we just chill out? How much can happen on a rainy day?"

Hazelle wanted to keep arguing—A lot, have you forgotten we're in Gravity Falls?!—but she was suddenly fed up with worrying, like it was draining the life out of her. Which it probably was: Hazelle could stress herself out so easily she had developed strategies to tranquilize the aching anxiety that would fester in her stomach. So she let go and said, "Alright, fine," with a sigh that meant it.

"Awesome." Jocelyn grinned. "Now how about some good ol' TV?"

They meandered back down the stairs and came to the den, but the only person left was Mabel, occupying Stan's chair like a victorious queen on her throne.

"Where'd everybody go?" asked Hazelle, taking note of Lucy's disappearance.

"To the gift shop. Stan's opening it and wanted help." Mabel smirked and drummed her fingers together. "I'm hiding in here. Mabel needs a day off."

"He's gonna find you eventually."

"He'll never catch me alive!" Mabel squawked. "But he wanted to guys to help. If he asks, you never saw me."

"To the gift shop!" Jocelyn proclaimed, pointing in the wrong direction.

The gift shop was quiet for the exception of Stan's humming The Stan Wrong Song and the roar of the rain. The merchandise was set up and the shop was polished, but it was obvious that it was going to be a slow day. Stan sat behind the cash register, Dipper in a stool next to him and Soos sweeping away in the corner.

"About time!" Stan said as they entered. "Where were you two slackers?"

"We were busy drinking expired apple juice and kissing boys," Jocelyn said, making Hazelle smirk.

"Like you two aren't enough trouble," Stan said. But they could hear his good-natured teasing in his voice: a tone they knew he'd normally only let out for Dipper and Mabel. "By the way, have either of you seen Mabel?"

"Nope, haven't seen her," Hazelle replied, hiding back a giggle.

"Business sure is booming," Jocelyn commented, hopping up onto the counter.

"This'll probably be a slow day." Stan shook his head at the empty shop, like it was the saddest thing he'd ever seen. "But we'll get a couple suckers—I mean, valued customers. They'll wander in like bugs to a flame."

Hazelle peered over Dipper's shoulder and pulled over another stool. He was consumed with a crossword puzzle, clicking the end of his pen repeatedly. "Eight letter word for edible sea creature," she read. "Seems a little…fishy, Dipper."

Stan and Jocelyn groaned in tandem. "Sweet Moses," Stan griped. "That…that was just awful."

"She's had worse," Jocelyn confided, with the same air as if telling a ghost story.

Hazelle ignored them and thought for a moment. "'Flounder'?" she guessed.

The clicking stopped. "FLOUNDER!" Dipper yelled, scrawling it in. "Duh! How could I have not seen that?" He grinned at Hazelle. "You're good at these."

"She's a whiz at puzzles," Jocelyn cut in. "She's addicted to the game show network back in our reality. She's basically an eighty year old woman."

"I have an inner old lady who likes trivia and puzzles," Hazelle said with a laugh. "I named her Margaret."

"Let's see here…" Dipper squinted down at the crossword puzzle. "How about…an eight letter word for irritating."

"'Jocelyn,'" Stan guessed with a snicker.

As Dipper, Soos, and Hazelle burst into laughter, Jocelyn glared at Stan, who smirked back in triumph. "Wrong!" she fought, smug. "My name's seven letters!"

"'A Jocelyn," Hazelle clarified, making everyone laugh harder.

"Um, no." Jocelyn's sass began to shine through. "You can't have spaces, nerd. How about 'onomatopoeia'?"

"What—?" Dipper demanded. "That doesn't even make sense!"

"Jocelyn, you're fourteenth in our class," Hazelle said with an eye roll. "You know what onomatopoeia means."

"How would you even spell that?" Stan asked, rubbing his chin.

"Spelling it is irritating," Jocelyn replied.

"You're irritating," Hazelle countered.

"Your mom's irritating."

"That's a dirty lie, Debbie's awesome!"

"You callin' me a liar?"

"Fight me, Swanson."

"YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO REFER TO DRAKE AND JOSH, YOU DISAPPOINTMENT!" Jocelyn yelled.

"Drake and who?" Dipper said, furrowing his brow.

Stan snapped his fingers. "'Annoying'! That's the answer!"

Dipper blinked and then grinned. "That's it! Awesome, it fits!"

"How did the Grunkle get it before Margaret?" Jocelyn said in awe.

"I was busy arguing with you." Hazelle sighed. "Margaret's ego is damaged."

"Tell her to suck it up," Stan said. "It's dog eat dog in the world of crossword puzzles."

"You've dishonored her for the last time," Hazelle said fiercely. "She wants a rematch!"

"Ha!" Stan folded his arms across his chest. "Bring it on, sister."

"Oh—wait." Hazelle pretended to listen to something. "Oops, she's got a bingo game to attend to. Can you reschedule?"

They all laughed, long and loud, and Hazelle got the sudden feeling of home. These were people she really got along with—they got her jokes, and liked her for who she was. She couldn't help but compare her life here to her life back in her reality—the people back there were so…unpleasant. They didn't get her and Jocelyn's comedy, and thought they were weird for liking a Disney cartoon so much. But the Pines family and Soos had completely accepted her. And in that moment, she didn't care about Bill, or whoever had sent them there—any danger they would face seemed nonexistent to the fun they were having.

Hazelle, for the first time in a long time, felt at peace.

Their laughter was interrupted by the jingle of the opening front door to the shop. The sound of the rain became clearer as the door opened, but went back to being a muffled growl as the customer shut it with a back kick. He flipped back his wet black hood and wiped his fingerless gloves on his tight skinny jeans.

"Shit," Jocelyn muttered, and Hazelle elbowed her quickly with a hiss of "Dipper's twelve!" But Hazelle couldn't blame her—eerie recognition had plummeted into her stomach upon sight of the visitor.

"Hey, Wen—" Robbie stopped and frowned at the group. "Sup, losers."

"Robbie," Dipper forced out between clenched teeth.

"Any of you see Wendy?" Robbie asked, forcefully nonchalant.

"She's not workin' today," Stan said, voice steely. "So either buy something or get out."

"Whoa, whoa, relax, old man." Every word that came out of Robbie's mouth was laced with disrespect and intended attitude. He smirked right at Dipper. "Betcha junior here knows where she is. He follows her around like a three-legged puppy."

Hazelle had noticed when watching Boyz Crazy that Stan had a specific look he would shoot at Robbie: it was a mix of bottled up anger and a sprinkle of protectiveness. Watching Stan fire it at Robbie in real life made Hazelle remember he wasn't actually kooky, goofy old Grunkle Stan—he was involved in portals, magic, the journals, and who knew what else; he wasn't someone to mess with, and that area of messing with extended to the twins.

"I'm runnin' a business here, pencil neck, not a charity!" Stan shouted, hands on his hips. "So you're either browsin', buyin', or beatin' it, got it?"

Robbie rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, Mr. Pines."

"That's Mr. Pines to you!"

"That's what I just—oh, forget it."

Hazelle felt nerves begin to settle in. Robbie hung around and leered at the Mystery Shack T-shirts, as if Stan had just pulled the shirts off the backs of hobos and hung them up for sale. With a rotten smile, he nudged a shelf of Stan bobbleheads with his elbow, knocking a few over.

"Hey, man!" Jocelyn snapped (as Hazelle knew she would). "C'mon, don't be an ass! Pick those up!"

Robbie walked closer and looked down at Jocelyn and Hazelle from over his nose. "Who're these two?" he asked Stan, but he didn't seem to care all that much.

"They're…um…" Stan pulled at his collar.

"Cousins!" Dipper cut in. "They're, uh, they're our cousins. Couldn't you tell from the hair?"

Robbie's gazed tried to skewer them, but he nodded to himself, accepting Dipper's explanation. "You guys got names?"

"Jocelyn."

"Hazelle."

"Like the nut?"

Hazelle raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, like the nut."

Robbie leaned in, scowling. "I'm allergic to nuts."

Jocelyn interfered with a terse, "Nobody asked."

"How old are you guys, anyway?" Robbie asked, eying Dipper with distaste.

"We're fifteen," Hazelle said.

Robbie scoffed. "Kinda weird, hanging around with a twerp and a grandpa."
"Hazelle, do you hear that?" Jocelyn said, hand to her ear. "Why, I do believe that's the sound of no one caring!" She hopped down from the counter. "I'm gonna go explore. Have fun with Admirable Anti-Nuts over here."

"Okay, portal girl," said Hazelle, smirking.

Jocelyn flashed two middles fingers. "Fuck off, Hazelle." With a sassy braid flip, she was gone, leaving behind a laughing Hazelle.

As Robbie continued to look at the merchandise with unimpressed eyes, Soos came over, balancing the broom on one shoulder. "Dudes, should I, like, kick him out or something? 'Cause the gun show can come to town, if need be."

"Nah, let 'im look," Stan said, an unhappy clench in his jaw.

"Whoops!" Robbie dropped a couple of Mystery Shack key chains. "Sorry about that, complete accident!"

Stan growled under his breath. "I wish it was legal to punch teenagers."

"Well, technically, it's not illegal," Hazelle muttered back. "We could use a self defense excuse or something."

Stan cracked his knuckles longingly. "Ugh, I'm gonna go get some coffee. You guys want anything?" Soos, Dipper, and Hazelle all declined the offer, so Stan went on quietly, "Watch him. I'll be right back. Don't be against using the bat under the desk."

Robbie watched Stan leave and Soos duck out to get the mop and then approached Dipper and Hazelle, giving off a vibe that made Hazelle anxious. "So what're you doing in a dump like Gravity Falls?"

"I don't think it's a dump," Hazelle defended. "I like it, for your information. And I'm here…on vacation."

Robbie shrugged. "I'm just saying, there're a million other places to pick. This town's the bottom of the barrel."

"I'll keep that in mind the next time I talk to my travel agent," Hazelle quipped drily. Robbie's negativity was making her nervous, which was pissing her off.

Robbie huffed. "Jeez, okay." He went back to the key chains, swiped a random one, and plunked it down on the counter. "I'll take this, twerp."

Dipper frowned under Robbie's squared gaze. He typed some things into the cash register and said stonily, "That'll be ten ninety-nine."

"Eleven bucks for a key chain?" Robbie demanded. "What kinda rip off is that!"

"A Mystery Shack rip off," Dipper clarified, showing no fear. "You heard my uncle. Either buy it or leave."

"Ugh, fine." Robbie scooped a ten-dollar bill and some excess change out of his hoodie pocket. "That should be enough."

Dipper counted and nodded, appeased. "Why're you even getting a key chain anyway?" he asked, bolder than usual.

Robbie grinned wickedly. "Wendy collects them. She doesn't have the actual shack chain yet."

Dipper flushed and bit his lip.

"Aw, you jealous, twerp?" Robbie put both hands on the counter and leaned in, making Dipper back away. "We may have broken up, but Wendy's still my girl. If you think you have a chance to hop in and replace me, you're in for a big surprise."

"I—I don't know what you're talking about," Dipper yammered.

"Pft. Like she'd go for a kid like you anyway!" Robbie continued, laughing. "You're, like, what, eight? She's looking for a man, not someone to babysit."

Dipper's face was bright red. Hazelle's hands curled into fists. "Lay off, Robbie," she snapped, sticking a finger to his chest, making him lean away from the counter. "You can yap all you want about Wendy, but I think you're forgetting that she broke up with you. 'Cause you're a liar and a thief!"

"What the—how do you know about that?" Robbie demanded.

Hazelle slightly deflated. Shoot. I wasn't here during Boyz Crazy! "Who doesn't know?" she retorted, trying for a cocky smile. "Your crash and burn with Wendy was legendary. I mean, I've only been here for a few days, and I've already heard about it."

Robbie seemed to get paler, and he grabbed the front of Dipper's shirt. "It was you, wasn't it? You're spreading rumors about me!"

"What—no!" Dipper looked around in alarm, probably for Grunkle Stan or Soos or a weapon. "I didn't—"

"You think you've won, huh?" Robbie raised back a fist. "Well, here's your trophy, loser!"

Hazelle wasn't sure exactly what had happened. One second, she was watching in horror, and then a fury had fused through her like electricity in a circuit. In the blink of an eye, her fist was connecting with Robbie's face, and a tiny black hole had opened right above his fallen body, swirling with wind and power.

Hazelle's eyes widened. The portal was the size of a Frisbee, but it was powerful enough to ruffle wind through the gift shop. Robbie, sporting a bloody nose, scrambled to his feet and blinked at the portal in terror.

"What—why is this stuff always happening around you!" he yelled at Dipper. "I'm outta here!" Robbie grabbed the key chain from the counter and sprinted out of the gift shop.

"What's goin' on down here?" Stan cried, thumping into the gift shop, extra large coffee in hand. His face blanked upon sight of the tiny portal in the air, eyes swiveling to Hazelle. "You weren't kiddin'," he said. "Holy Moses, you weren't kiddin'."

Hazelle couldn't register his words. All she could register was the vanishing of the portal into thin air and the thumping bruises on her knuckles.