Mabel rolled the half-filled bottle of Gravity Falls Sparkling Sarsaparilla Soda between her hands. She dug her nails into the condensation-soaked label. It pulled off in sticky strips, and bunched up under her nails.
She took a long swig from the bottle, trying to down as much as she could at once. She gagged and it dribbled down her chin. She rubbed her face on her sweater sleeve and set the bottle down beside her.
Mabel rifled through the large pouch in her kangaroo sweater.
"Palate cleanser!" she exclaimed, twisting open her chap stick and taking a bite. "Thank you, Strawberry Soon I Will Meet My True Love."
Her hands gripped the wooden pier, her shoulders caved in, and she stared down past her yellow flip flops, into the depths of the lake. "True love…"
"Meow!" Mabel encouraged herself, sitting up pin straight and swinging her legs faster. The bottle met her lips once more. "For true love!"
"Eugh!" Mabel looked both ways and tipped the bottle upside down.
"You stop right there!"
"Great Uncle Ford?" Mabel swung around to face him.
"Hasn't Stanley taught you kids that pollution is wrong? It's destroying this planet in billions of realities. It's basically a temporal constant at this point," Ford scoffed, sitting cross-legged beside her. He held out his hand, "Let me finish it; I haven't had this stuff in eons… Do kids still vastly overestimate periods of time?"
"Take it." Mabel shoved the bottle at him, a genuine laugh bubbling up in her belly.
"Alright. I hope it's still good," Ford said, immediately chugging the rest of the bottle in one go. "Not bad. Think they changed the recipe though."
"If you go online you can find people who remake drinks! If you like it better the old way I bet- I bet we could find a recipe and make it!"
"Nah, this is good enough." Ford smiled, licking his lips. "Now, I'm guessing you want this bottle. Do you collect them?"
"No, I use them to send letters to Mermando," Mabel answered, taking the bottle back from him. She pulled a notepad from her pocket and tore out two pages, carefully rolling them up and putting them in the bottle.
"Mermando?"
"My merman ex-boyfriend," Mabel sighed, setting the bottle down a moment to pick at the dirt and wads of wet paper gathered under her nails.
"I bet that's a good story," Ford laughed, somewhat misreading the mood.
"Yeah… he's getting married. I should be happy for him, right? She's so beautiful and she can breath underwater and she's a real princess," Mabel spoke slowly, pulling at the hem of her sweater. "What do you do when you're supposed to be happy for someone and you're… not?"
"Mmmm, that's heavy, Mabel," Ford said, frowning and tapping his fingers against his knee. "I've never had… romantic feelings but I-I think I know what you mean. We think about people in what they are in relation to- to us. How they make us feel… "
"So, I'm just sad about me?" she asked, chewing on her lower lip. She was supposed to be a beautiful, selfless princess. Where did that go?"
"Everyone is selfish, Mabel," Ford answered, reaching out a hand to touch her shoulder. He held it out a moment, then laid his hands in his lap. "Missing this Mermando both is and isn't selfish. Sometimes we want to see people and it isn't good for them. Sometimes they want to see you too and it's still… bad."
"Great Uncle Ford, do you- do you think you and Grunkle Stan are bad for each other?" Mabel didn't look at him.
"We're-we're very different, Mabel."
"Being different isn't bad! Me 'n- me 'n Dipper are…" Mabel raised her head to look at her uncle, tears spilling down her face.
"I- Mabel… I–" Ford trailed off. "Things happen and you- and you can't control them. People go in different directions and you can't–"
"You left him behind!" Mabel suddenly shouted, grabbing her bottle and standing up. "He was- he was scared and you didn't do anything!"
"I couldn't– Mabel you weren't there… I–"
"Meow! Bleugh blah!" Mabel's fingers choked the bottle. She made to throw it in the water but it caught the edge of the pier and shattered. Bits of glass sunk into the lake. Her letter drifted on the surface. A small wave pushed it under.
"Mabel, please. Calm down!" Ford had leapt up when the bottle had soared past him. He held up his hands placatingly. "Let's go get another bottle and send your friend a new note. How about that?"
"I don't want to anymore," she replied, rubbing at her eyes. She thought of all the letters she'd sent to Mermando, how he didn't always get them. How the ocean was big and deep and they were still trying even though he should be tired of her.
Mabel imagined herself sending out bottle after bottle with 'Dipper' written on them.
"Am-am I going to have to write some stupid journal so Dipper'll listen to me?"