Chapter Thirteen: The Mabel Trap

When Dipper texted her that he had a plan, Pacifica expected something weird.

Even though she's literally been shot through a pneumatic tube into the air, falling towards a giant pyramid with the intention of taking down an omnipotent demon, she somehow still could've never guessed this.

As soon as those giant walls came down from nowhere, Pacifica backed up a step, preferably close to the Shack's large employee. Zeus? No, Soos. She can remember that. And she can also remember that if the crazy old shop owner turns feral, she can use him as a human shield.

Everyone tensed up from the sudden change, Wendy spoke first, "What gives, man?"

"Evil scarecrows!" Soos alerted, "Get ready, dudes, they're coming!"

The crazy guy threw a dismissive hand, "Don't lose your marbles, there are no scarecrows! At least...not that I know of. The armored walls are for our protection." He tucked the remote in his suit pocket, barreling over with impressive speed, head darting back and forth toward the upper corners of the building, seemingly checking for something, "There's not much time, so let's make this quick. Give me the details."

Dipper stammered, "Uh, l-like I said before, we need a skin suit that looks like this girl," He pointed to Pacifica, "Right here."

Crazy guy shuffled over sideways until he stood directly across from Pacifica, placing his hands out in a box shape, switching their positions every second like an artist observing his unfinished canvas, "Yes...yes, indeed. Hmm...yellow root, tan coat, blue circle, white block..."

As he muttered more nonsense, Pacifica froze in place, slightly leaning back and curling her lip. Beside her, the rest of the group looked on, completely confused.

Just as she contemplated telling him to back off, he did, looking ahead to the back of the store wall, "Very doable. How quickly do you need it?"

Given the bizarre one-eighty of the situation, no one could really find any words at all. Mabel had to elbow Dipper to get an answer, "Ow! Uh, early tomorrow, if you can."

Crazy guy's throat made an even rumble, considering the deadline. It kept going until it snapped decisively, "Shouldn't be an issue! Who'll be wearing the suit? It'll have to be someone of equal or near height and build."

Pacifica glanced at the others. She and Soos couldn't be on farther opposing ends of the spectrum when it came to appearance, and while she's grown a little, Wendy's lanky height and lean limbs would be a far reach for her even at the peak of her maturity. Dipper was obviously cut, since he's the dork taking her out, and while it annoys her to keep admitting it, he's outgrown her. By a lot.

Mabel, on the other hand...is still pretty close in stature. If they stood back-to-back, Mabel might have the advantage by an inch or two, her arms might be a fraction longer, her hips a bit thinner, but out of them all, she's the best fit.

For a second, Pacifica balances her want to go out with Dipper and her repugnance at the idea of Mabel dressing up as her.

The date with Dipper wins by a hair. Reluctantly, she chooses through grit teeth, "I guess...Mabel's the closest to my size."

Mabel treats this like a lottery win, "I get to be fake Pacifica?! Yes! Oh man, all those seasons of Cali Girls I watched are finally gonna pay off!" She placed a hand on her hip, trading her expression from joy to bothered indifference, "But I like, love him, dad! He's totally misunderstood!"

Her demonstration impressed Soos and Wendy, who actually had the nerve to start clapping.

"Dude, that's totally Pacifica!"

Soos examined both girls, as if unable to discern them, "It's like looking at someone else looking at a mirror."

Pacifica's face flushed, "I do not sound like that."

Mabel strolled over chirpily, "Yeah, you do. But it's your thing! Nothing to be ashamed of."

Crazy guy continued speaking, glossing over their unimportant bickering, "There's of course the matter of payment. You have a gnome for a friend, eh? Try and convince him to visit sometime, and that should do it."

"Wait...really?" Dipper questioned, "That's all?"

"I've never met a gnome before," Crazy guy admitted defensively, "I hear they're astoundingly intelligent. That and fifty dollars will be acceptable."

Everyone, again, traded puzzled glances with each other. Pacifica didn't know why Dipper looked confused. With how weird this guy's acting, she expected even weirder, impossible terms of payment like the tooth of a gargoyle or unicorn pee. How's she supposed to know what weird people want?

Dipper accepted the terms with a dazed frown, "Uh...sure, man, we'll pay whatever."

"Good," Crazy guy said, "Now, if you two girls will follow me, we'll begin the process." He looked directly at Pacifica, "Suit model, leave your jewelry out here. I don't want any of the metal interfering with the machines." Like a car shifting in gear, he popped up straight legged and strode over to a small swinging gate to the right side of the front desk. Mabel trailed close behind him with that usual goofy, smiley expression, while Pacifica slugged, completely reluctant to go into a room with this guy period.

Before he opened the Employee Only door, he snapped an index finger in Soos's direction, "Gopher man, keep an eye on the walls! If you see men dressed in black, don't come find me, just run!"

With no elaboration, he opened the door just wide enough to slip through and vanished.

Mabel stood on her toes and smiled proudly, "Well, I'm off to get fitted for a skin suit!" After the announcement, she too disappeared, leaving Pacifica standing alone, contemplating her life choices.

Dipper is so lucky she likes him.

She inhaled a deep breath of air through her nostrils and let it out slowly, hoping all of her stress and frustration escaped with it. As she started to enter the unknown, Dipper caught her with his presence.

"Before you go in there, I just wanted to say...I think the accent works for you," He shrugged, and Pacifica remembered Mabel's little demonstration a minute ago, basically mocking her, "It's cute."

Oh, Dipper. Already trying to do damage control and they haven't even gone out yet. In truth, she knew she had a specific way of speaking, but had never really heard it ricocheted at her until hearing Mabel's take. She'd been around rich snobs her entire life, they all had certain speech patterns, filler words and cadences, so she never thought anything of it until trying to distance herself from that scenery.

Mildly embarrassing as it is, she knows Soos, Wendy and Mabel don't really mean anything by it. Judging from the little time she's spent with them, poking fun at each other is a regular thing, and a symbol of their tight bond. If anything, she's kind of flattered that they feel comfortable enough around her to make jokes in the first place.

But she can't let Dipper know. Not when he's subconsciously fiddling with his vest zipper and barely meeting her gaze. It's fun to see him squirm a bit.

So, she just rolled her eyes and undid her hoop earrings, dropping them in his hand when finished, "Hold my earrings, dork."

When she left the main shop and closed the door behind her, it felt like entering another world. The jarring change in atmosphere nearly gave her mental whiplash.

It looked like a mix between a factory's boiler room and the tail end of a clothing warehouse. In rectangle formation pressed against the walls, you had large, looming machines covered in strobing buttons and gauges of all colors, darting back and forth like a sales chart. Each one puffed out steam from some hole in the top, permeating the entire room with a fog-like veil, the smell one of burning grease. In between the gaps of each machine, sat shelves, and in their middle, clothes on hangers.

Only they weren't clothes, they were skinsuits. Leathery unitards and tights so realistic, Pacifica had to blink several times and still wouldn't be able to set anything apart if she didn't know where she was. From head to toe, hair and fingernails, it covered them all. Disgusting as it sounded on paper, the guy had an impressive inventory, and a massive variety, from blonde to brunette, male to female, all heights, all weights, every assortment.

It all seemed to be produced by the towering mass of metal in the center of the room. Pacifica had seen something like this in Bloodcraft, the video game she secretly played for years. There was this one boss, Thorzax, a giant red monster that carried an axe of equal size. One hit and your character's gone, no matter how high of a level you are. He has this indestructible armor too, making it impossible to damage him despite the rarity of your weapon. The trick was that the giant's an avatar, and the real Thorzax is a frail old man in a life supporting chamber, hidden in a grassy area in the fight stage.

This thing looked a lot like that life chamber. An enormous cylinder connected from the ground to the ceiling by two steel pillars, a glass middle with a curvature door, and winding tubes protruding from the tank and into the walls.

Pacifica wanted to slap herself. Did she just make a video game comparison? It must be Dipper's nerdism. She's being corrupted.

Crazy guy walked up to the massive tank, rubbing circles on the glass with his left hand, "First, I'll need the suit model to step in so the machine can take a scan of your appearance. Then the suit wearer to calculate the size down to the millimeter."

"How long's it gonna take?" Mabel asked, scanning the room with wide eyes.

Pacifica wasn't pleased with the information, "I have to be in that thing?"

Crazy guy chose to answer the former's question, "About two minutes for appearance, five for fitting. Very quick, considering the complexity of the human body. Heh, it's a good thing you two are kids, adults usually take longer."

"Asking again, I actually have to be in that thing?"

"Yes," He said, "But first I must spray both of you with anti-radiation material. We wouldn't want any of the lasers melting skin or causing long term nerve damage!" Turning on his heels, he scurried off to another part of the room, with Pacifica protesting uselessly.

"Spray me with what?! Hey!" She growled, "Ugh! All this for a stupid date!" Locating a nearby folding chair she spotted next to one of the skin suit shelves, she took a seat, resting her face in her hands, "Why is it so hard for me to do anything, like ever! I can't even go to a fair without creating some crazy plan! All because of my dumb family!"

The outburst seems to silence everything else in the room, even the puffing steam and the whirring sound of the tank. Pacifica's ears roared, her vision swirled. She felt like she might pass out. Part of the reason she came on this mini-road trip was to get away from the Manor, away from her psycho family, escape to the world she has so little experience in, but so much craving for. The twins, the entire Shack crew make her forget about her problems, but it's impossible to get away completely. The Northwest name will always follow her.

She didn't hear Mabel approach, but her thick white socks and black Mary-Janes came into view. She stood for a second, then plopped on her rear, invading Pacifica's line of sight with a sympathetic, quizzical look.

"Your grandpa's really messing things up, huh?"

Even though she doesn't want to talk about it, she found herself spouting words without thought. Just venting all of her worries and stress. "Yes. He's making everything even worse than it was before. I mean...after the freaky triangle, things got worse for my parents, but better for me, even if only a little. Then you guys came back and-" She sighed, not even knowing where she's going with this, "-I don't know. It just feels like things aren't getting better."

There's no immediate comfort or surprise hug. Nothing is said for a straight minute. Pacifica closed her eyes during the rant, so now she can't see what Mabel's doing. She opened them to get a peek. She's sitting there, unblinking, chin in palms, brown eyes sparkling.

She says three simple words, "Dipper likes you."

It made Pacifica jerk her head out of her hands, "Huh?"

"Dipper likes you. That's a good thing, right?"

"Yeah, but-"

"And you like him too, right?"

"Well, yeah, but that doesn't-"

"And we're becoming friends, aren't we?"

"Sort of, but don't push it-"

"And you don't really know them well, but Soos, Wendy, and both our Grunkles have your back."

"Mabel!" Pacifica shouted, an attempt to pause her verbal assault, "What's your point?"

Mabel rocked back and forth, holding the ends of her shoes, "I guess I'm saying...yeah, you have a lot of bad stuff going on, but you've also got a lot of good stuff too," She said it uncomfortably and lowly, the act of getting serious affecting her energy level, "Whenever things get bad for me, I try my best to not think about it and just focus on all the happy stuff."

The memory of Mabel's confession in the mall came to mind. The one where she expressed her doubts about her parents' marriage.

Pacifica chose to again, not bring that up, "Is that why you're so...you know, Mabel-y? You're trying to block out the bad stuff?"

"Oh, I've been Mabel-y since I could eat glitter! But that's not the point. The point is...whenever you get, you know, blegh feelings, take a second and make a list of all the awesome stuff in your life. Starting with your hair. Man, that stuff is smooth!"

Pacifica touched it, a smile starting to threaten her cheeks, "I guess...things could be worse. I could have ugly hair."

"And Dipper likes you," Mabel repeated, adding further emphasis, "You guys are good for each other. You give him this confidence that I've never really seen before, and he's pretty much the sole reason you wanted to become a better person, right?"

"Y-Yeah," She stumbled, then cleared her throat, straightening, taking a firmer, almost formal tone, "That night at the party changed everything."

Mabel nodded sagely. It was weird to see the girl sitting completely still for once, actually making sense and giving advice. Pacifica always heard about Mabel's incredible emotional intelligence, but to see it in action was kind of impressive. Like watching an experienced trade worker complete a task.

"Can I ask you something, though?" Mabel said.

Pacifica tried to lighten the mood, "You just did."

Mabel didn't laugh, which made whatever semblance of a smile on her face cease. "You don't just like Dipper because you feel sorry for him, do you?"

It took a second to absorb the question. Pacifica didn't have any brothers, sisters, or relatives her age, so she had no real understanding of the sibling connection. But she knows a protective sister when she sees one. She just never thought she'd see it here, because of her.

"No, it's not like that."

"You sure?" Mabel pressed. It wasn't combative or sarcastic, but genuine. She really wanted to know. "We both want the summer to be even better than last time, and if...well, if this whole thing doesn't go anywhere, it would ruin it for him. I'm not saying it would be your fault, I mean, maybe your confused and you think you like him, or-"

"Mabel," Pacifica interrupted, "You've got nothing to worry about."

There's so much more to say, but she doesn't have a grasp on how to say it yet. How to properly express her feelings. She's still learning a lot of things. Most of all...feelings. She used to not feel any of this at all. Before, she'd been a mere robot, programmed by dogma two hundred years in the making. Money is the most important thing. Status is a priority. If friends can't push you further up the ladder, they're worthless.

She thought one day she'd grow up and take over every company within the Northwest empire. If she married someone, they'd be of equal wealth and societal ranking, preferably close to matching her good looks, a man that her parents would of course, love. Anything to make them proud.

Not once did the importance of having an actual emotional connection to the person cross her mind.

"Not that I'm any good at this," Pacifica continued, "I probably will ruin it somehow or mess something up. I've never felt like this before, so it's all...weird."

Mabel smiled, the protective shield now sheathed, "You'll be fine. Love's kinda like chinese finger traps. It's hard to figure out."

The crazy guy reemerged from the steam veil, carrying the anti-radiation spray. A black bottle with a long yellow nozzle at the tip, a piece of tape stretched around the middle with faded words written in red marker. Pacifica couldn't make out what it said.

"Boy, that took a while to find! Turns out it was inside one of my old shoes!" He shook up the bottle and beckoned Pacifica closer, "Alright, suit model, stand still, please."

An invisible force must have pushed her forward, because the last thing she wanted to do was be sprayed by anything in this man's possession. For all she knew, she'd have red skin by tomorrow morning, or all her hair would disintegrate by bedtime. It's all a 'happy' series of guesses.

She glared up at the old man, "If this ruins my complexion, I'm suing."

He ignored the threat and began dousing her from head to toe with the substance. She expected a stinging sensation, but really it wasn't much different than a fan with a water mist attachment. It did smell of roach killer and bacterial disinfectant, which she hated. She'd have to wallow in shampoo when she got back to the manor to get rid of the smell.

Once finished, crazy guy shook the bottle again, "Go ahead and enter the machine. It shouldn't take long."

Mabel walked over to get a closer look, poking the flashing circular lights at the base of the tank uselessly, "Did you build this thing?"

Crazy guy chuckled nervously, "Uh, let's just say I've been borrowing it for the past thirty years...from the government."

Pacifica, now halfway into the tank, whipped around, "The what?!"

Mabel shook her head, "Man, what is it with those guys? Why can't they just let everyone have fun? Law this, law that. If it were up to me, I would only make one law. Unban Smile Dip in California."

Pacifica craned her head forward, wanting to make sure she heard correctly, "You're telling me the military or whatever could barge in here right now and we could all get arrested?"

Crazy guy's nose twitched back and forth, his shoulders raised in a perpetual shrug, "Well, technically yes. But it's unlikely. I faked my death a long time ago. But don't fear! You remember me telling the Gopher man to watch the walls, yes? I'm sure he will alert us of anything peculiar. Now then, time is of the essence! Enter the machine, suit model!"

Pacifica sighed. It was sad to admit to herself that this wasn't even the weirdest thing she's ever done. Even sadder that it doesn't make the top five.

When she fully stepped inside, the old guy closed the door behind her, blocking out any semblance of sound. She could only hear her own footsteps, breathing, and her heartbeat. Even though Mabel was blabbering something to her from the outside, she couldn't even hear her voice, let alone try to make out words. The glass must have been made from some weird material. Maybe it's not even glass at all.

In the center of the tank sat what looked like a dentist's chair, positioned upright and facing the ceiling. Pacifica positioned herself and merged with the leather, leaning in and putting most of her weight on it. Crazy guy waved to get her attention, once she looked at him, he gave a thumbs up, signaling that the process was about to begin.

For a fleeting moment, her chest got tight with fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear that something would go wrong. She flinched when a blue laser ignited at the top of the tank, slowly circling its way down toward her.

When it met her hair first, she felt its warmth. Not heat, or anything painful, but a warmth like the concentrated ray of sunlight you feel on a car ride, where it peeks over the tops of trees and invades the window. That kind of warm. With the way it covered every inch of her skin and scalp, it almost made her want to fall asleep.

As quickly as the process began, it ended. The laser scanned her body quickly enough, disappearing in a blink when it reached the very bottom of the tank, past her shoes. Crazy guy took his hands off the controls and came back to open the door for her.

"See, no pain. You don't have to sue."

Pacifica grunted as she hopped out and landed flat on her feet, "Oh, so you have been hearing me."

Ironically, he ignored that very statement and gestured to Mabel, "Now, it's your turn. Like I said before, this scan will take longer. I must calculate your size down to the tiniest detail using a different, smaller laser. I must warn you; it will probably induce a tickling sensation. Please try to stay still."

Mabel beamed, "A tickling laser?!"

Pacifica snorted, "Good luck getting her to stay still now."

After being sprayed with the radiation roach killer, Mabel jumped inside the tank and closed the door on her own, promptly wiggling into the dentist seat with a toothy, metallic smile. It looked like she was saying "I'm ready!"

Crazy guy turned a dial on a smaller, different set of controls, using a lever to control a red laser instead of a blue. It descended on Mabel, circling the same area twice before moving on at a much slower pace. The girl looked like she was having the time of her life with that Grinch-like grin, but remembering the instruction to not laugh. Judging from the way her shoulders were vibrating and the pale color her skin was turning, it seemed to be a form of torture.

But eventually, Mabel's nightmare ended. Crazy guy turned the machine off and opened the glass door, freeing the other Pines twin from her tickling prison cell. Which meant falling straight to her knees on the concrete floor, gasping for breath.

Pacifica walked over and crossed her arms. It was kind of funny and vindicating to see Mabel out of breath. She's always on an ultra-sugar rush twenty-four-seven, so to see some sweat building made her smirk.

"You gonna survive?"

"That was one of..." Mabel paused, inhaling enough air to fill a mattress, "...the hardest things ever. Do you know how tough it is for me to stay serious when being tickled? I'm super uper duper ticklish! Don't tell Dipper, though. I don't want him having ammo on me."

"I can keep a secret."

The old guy approached them, "It will probably take the whole night for the 3D flesh printer to complete the suit. You can come first thing in the morning to pick it up. Then after that, forget this place existed."

Mabel saluted him, "Yes, sir! I forget things all the time! I don't even know what I had for breakfast today!"

"Syrup on cereal?" Pacifica guessed.

Mabel gawked, "Yes! Are you a mind reader?"

"Yes, yes, please get out," Old guy said, "Eight o' clock will do. Goodbye!"

Both girls were rushed out of the room with a forceful shove. Crazy guy slamming the door earned the others' attention. Wendy had been perched on the front desk with her legs dangling over the edge, using business cards to play table football with Soos. Based on the pile of crumpled paper on the floor, multiple games had been played. Dipper wasn't far, nervously chewing on a stray pen he must have found in his vest pocket.

He perked up when he noticed them, "Did it work? What was it like? You didn't get radiation poisoning, did you?" Unconsciously reaching for a journal that wasn't there to write all of this down, he scowled.

"We both got sprayed with this stuff that kicks radiation's butt," Mabel answered, showing Dipper her moisture covered arm, "See how it glistens? I think this is a good look for me!"

Wendy hopped off the counter, flicking her paper football at the clock behind her, "So, we good to go or do we need to wait around?"

"He said it would be ready in the morning," Mabel looked up at Soos pleadingly, "Could you drive back tomorrow to pick it up?"

Soos rubbed the back of his neck, likely imagining the wrath of Stan coming down on him for missing more work, "I don't know, dude, Stan says we're supposed to get a bus load of tourists tomorrow, and-"

Mabel inched closer to him, weaponizing her puppy dog eyes, "Pretty please with rainbow sprinkles on top?"

Soos didn't last five seconds. He closed his eyes tight and caved, "Agh, alright, hambone. Maybe if we leave early enough Stan won't notice."

Mabel giggled, pressing her fist in Soos's gut until it disappeared beneath the flab, "Hey, when we get back to the Shack, we'll see if we can find some of those blue sleeping pills! We can slip them into his Pitt-Cola while he's watching Baby Fights!"

Soos's eyes went wide, "Wait, those blue pills are for sleep? No wonder I keep passing out in the bathroom."

Pacifica cringed, "Ew. Can we go now? If Father and Grandfather get back and see that I'm gone this'll all be for nothing because I'll be grounded until I'm thirty."

At some point during the conversation, the old guy had lifted the armored walls up, allowing them to leave. Everyone piled into Soos's truck and made their way down the road, back through the path they came. Soos and Wendy were intently listening to Mabel's overexaggerated retelling of the tickle torture she underwent, turning a five-minute experience into a fifteen-minute story.

Dipper tilted his head over to Pacifica, "You smell like ant killer, by the way."

"Yeah," She hissed, "I noticed."

When he chuckled, his arm brushed against hers, which almost distracted her from how much of a dope he's being, "I must be pretty awesome for you to ruin your perfume like that."

"Please. This date is a trial run for you. If you don't impress me tomorrow, I'll just move on to the next guy." She lifted her nose high, closing her eyes smugly, "Which I could easily do. There's a line of them waiting eagerly for a chance with me."

The joke actually had some truth to it. Knowing Grandpa Auldman, he has tween boys with side parts on speed dial, ready to be her husband with a cheap bribe.

Dipper raspberried, "What guys are you talking about? The kid with the nose piercing or Bobby Binkley with the overalls? Face it, Pacifica, I'm your best option."

He's not wrong. Curse Gravity Falls and the town's lack of boy variety to rub his face with. The like, three boys in town her age, besides Dipper, either live in treehouses or wear grass for pants.

"Whatever. You still better bring your A game. I'm expecting gourmet chocolates and a bouquet of lilacs."

Dipper gave a thumbs up, "Fried grease on a stick and cheap soda, got it!"

There was no malicious intent in the eye roll that followed. She wouldn't reveal it, but the date location being the Mystery Shack's sorry excuse for a fair wasn't the worst thing in the world. In fact, quite the opposite. In a back of her mind, Pacifica worried he'd get the wrong idea and try to make some grand gesture. Like spending an ungodly sum of money taking her to a fancy restaurant or blowing it all on useless props. She wanted to get away from all of that now, and the fact that he chose his uncle's trashy, run-down fair instead of something like The Club, showed that he cared. Which sounds counter intuitive, but she felt grateful.

Pacifica laid her head back on the seat rest, raising an eyebrow when an idle thought passed, "By the way, how am I getting there?"

"Getting where?"

"To the dumb fair. Duh. I can't just up and walk."

Dipper made a noise with his tongue, "Good question. I'm supposed to help Soos set up...and I was kind of hoping we could just meet up later in the evening, but-"

"I can drive her on the cart," Wendy proposed, "I mean, if it's cool with you, Pacifica."

She'd almost forgotten the redhead was there. During the ride, she sort of shifted into her own world with Soos and Mabel, making a conscious effort to leave Dipper and Pacifica to themselves. Pacifica wasn't aware she'd been multitasking and listening in.

"And I can ride over with Wendy wearing the suit," Mabel added, "Then, when you sneak out through the window, I'll climb in and take your place! Your family won't be able to tell anything happened!"

Dipper blinked, "That's...actually a good idea."

"Yeah," Wendy said, "Dipper can help set up, Mabel can catch a ride to the Manor and Pacifica to the fair, and I can avoid work. It's a win for everyone."

Suddenly, the attention of the entire truck, sans Soos, fell on Pacifica, waiting for her approval. She made a face, looking at each of them.

"Uh...sure, works for me. Th..." For some reason, the word thank you stopped at her tongue, never taking shape. She's still a novice when it comes to politeness, especially to girls that she's never really talked to.

"Spell it out," Dipper encouraged, snickering.

"Shut up," She snapped, "Thank you...Wendy."

Wendy nodded casually, smirking at her noticeable inner conflict, "Anytime."

She hadn't noticed before, because she never really paid attention, but something about Wendy...intimidated Pacifica. No, not intimidated. Irked. In the way that a loose string of thread from a shirt brushes against your skin. She's older, taller, attractive, not as attractive as her, of course, but certainly more mature. Carefree in a way Pacifica could only dream of.

By the time they returned to the manor, hints of dusk creeped up on the closing day. Both the sun and moon floated in the sky, staring each other down across lightyears of distance, perching just above opposing tree lines, painting the atmosphere in light purple and ocean blue.

Soos braked at the front gate. Pacifica didn't immediately move to get out just yet. First, she had to hope and pray that father and grandfather hadn't returned yet, then add on to that prayer and hope they wouldn't notice the truck's tire marks going down the driveway.

Then...absorb this feeling of being with them. Of living the other, weirder, better half of her double life. For the next few hours, it'll be back to the empty, lifeless manor. The endless staircases. The hundreds of rooms that all look the same. The creepy stuffed animal heads that follow her every move. No Dipper, no crazy adventure, no old skinsuit tailors, no Mabel- oh God, is she starting to miss Mabel of all people? This is a new low.

The bubbly brunette broke the silence, "Guess when we see each other tomorrow, we'll be twins, eh? We'll be like one of those blonde spy duos that point their guns in the wrong direction!"

Soos beamed, "Dude, I've totally seen that movie!"

"Uh...yeah, whatever," Pacifica opened her door and stepped out, her hand lingering on the leather, eyes directed vaguely at Dipper's vest collar.

"So..."

He smiled sheepishly, "So..."

"See ya?"

"Yeah, tomorrow. Stay ungrounded."

"As long as you don't get caught up in your stupid book and forget our date."

"Journal," He corrected, the inside of his cheeks crinkling from his smile, "And I won't. You'll have my undivided attention." He crossed his heart, "Pines' promise."

Pacifica may have started to melt on the spot if given the opportunity, but their audience began whistling loudly.

"Oooh, Dipper!" Mabel cheered.

"Very smooth, man," Wendy said, winking.

"It's like watching The Diary all over again," Soos praised, wiping a tear from his eye, "That movie gets me every time, dude."

With the moment officially ruined, Pacifica groaned, "I hate all of you," Then shut the truck door, turning to manually open the front gates with a memorized passkey on an alarm placed behind a tree. The truck revved up and took off, leaving her alone in silence, twinless, and back to her real life.

The entrance rumbled like a sleeping giant, wood groaning until the gates reached an opposite position, pointing toward the manor like an invitational set piece. Hey, wanna come visit here? Yeah, you do!

No. She doesn't.

Walking the pristine stone path used to stir something within her. A pride that inflated her head to the size of a hot air balloon. She'd see the tiny double-wides and trailers of Gravity Falls residents, maybe the occasional middle class brick house, and recognize that she's better than them, even with her tiny, undeveloped brain. Superiority came with her birth.

I live in a big house, they don't. I have money, they don't. I'm special, they're not. I'm a winner, they're losers.

They're being everyone else unlike her. It was just a fact. The way life works. Winners and losers. Winners were to be celebrated, and losers to be mocked.

What a bunch of crap.

Pacifica reached up to grab the doorknob, but it swung open before she could make contact. A woman in her forties with short, black hair opened the door.

"Oh!" She stepped back like she'd accidentally disturbed a hornet's nest, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to...wait, you're Priscilla's daughter, aren't you?"

The woman put out her hand, but Pacifica didn't shake it. The woman clearly wasn't from around here. She looked too plain, too innocent, too...unaware of the town's nature. Her eyes still had that bright, unassuming glow that told she'd never laid eyes on a lumberjack ghost.

Pacifica curled her lip, "Who are you? Why are you in our mansion?"

The woman pulled her hand back, polite smile never changing, "Oh, pardon me. I'm Tonya. I'm with Harmony Haven Rehabilitation Clinic. I'm here to check on your mother's progress to recovery."

Pacifica snorted, "Yeah? How's that going for you?"

Tonya tilted her head at the attitude, but didn't waver, "Well, it's been good, actually. Your mother shows a lot of promise. Your grandfather told us she would be a difficult case, but she's opened up quite a bit."

"Really?"

Tonya nodded, "Yes. She talks about you a lot. She loves you."

"Loves me?" Pacifica almost laughed at the blatant joke, "Lady, my family doesn't love anyone, especially each other."

Tonya shrugged, "You might be surprised." She squeezed through the doorway and began walking down the steps leading to the courtyard, but not before turning around. "Can I suggest something?"

Pacifica sighed, "Sure."

"Talk to her. It would help."

The advice brushed by futilely on deaf ears. She could understand why an outsider would think a simple conversation could fix things. Professional or not, nobody knows Pacifica's family better than herself. They're on another level of hopeless, and no amount of therapy or rehab or whatever can fix their problems. She knows Grandfather only made Mother do this to get her out of the crosshairs. To remove the distraction.

But this woman doesn't know any better, so she needs to placate, "I'll think about it."

Tonya smiled softly, "Good. It was nice to meet you!"

With that, she turned her back and went to retrieve her car. Probably placed at the side of the mansion.

Pacifica stepped inside the manor, surprised to see her mother standing rigidly only twenty feet away beside the door leading to the dining room, looking out of a dusty window.

"Mother?"

She only sounded surprised because this was the first time seeing her out of the porch chair in weeks, without a wine glass in hand. Something about her looked different, too. She looked lighter. The shadows beneath her eyes shrunk since the last time Pacifica saw her, and the lifeless, blank expression wasn't there today. Mother sort of looked like her old self, which is either very good or very bad.

"Hello, dear."

Her voice was still hoarse and uninviting, but at least she was speaking at all. For two months after the family's downfall, Pacifica genuinely couldn't have named a single time Mother said a word. It only consisted of defeated moans and incoherent mumbles.

"So...these people are coming here? You're not like, staying in an asylum and wearing white?"

Mother chuckled humorlessly, "I might as well be. Where were you, by the way?"

Pacifica fidgeted. When Father and Grandfather left for the day, she just assumed Mother would be at rehab. To her, that meant being shipped off to some hospital and kept prisoner there for the rest of the summer. This could be bad.

She figured it would go in her favor to tell the truth. Or at least, a half-truth, "I was with Dipper and Mabel. Just...hanging out."

Mother didn't even react, "I see. How was that?"

Pacifica's eyes became saucers, "Excuse me?"

"What?"

"You're not...like, mad? Father said I couldn't see them anymore."

Mother shrugged, bringing her hand in front of her chin and making a fist, likely a byproduct of wine withdrawal. "I don't blame you for getting out of the house, Pacifica. I would kill to do the same."

For a minute, she just stood there and stared at the clear alien imposter taking the form of Priscilla Northwest. She always droned by her father's side on every decision, going along with any punishment, any correction to Pacifica's appearance, and any business choice. It would be par for the course to snitch and get her grounded for the rest of her life.

"So...you're not gonna tell him?"

Mother placed her curled fist on the window, pressing weight against it in visible frustration, "Your father is too preoccupied with Auldman to hear anything I have to say. Even if I did, he wouldn't hear me."

It was then that Pacifica realized she was doing the very thing Tonya told her. Talking to her mother. For the first time...ever, really. Over the course of thirteen years, there were a lot of rapid nods to back up whatever Father spouted, but no real heart to heart. Even now it wasn't, but it was something. A thin string of connection was formed. For the first time, she empathized with the woman. She understood the resentment.

It was a baby step.

So before they fell on their faces, it was best to leave it at that. Pacifica took another glance back at her mom before scaling the stairs and going to her room.

Laying on her bed and staring at the ceiling, her mind began to wander, her body flooded with a slew of emotions. She was excited to see what that fluttering feeling really meant. She wanted to see Dipper more. Even his wild sister and their ragtag friend group were growing on her.

But the consequences were clear. Her mother already knows, and maybe she can keep a secret, but if this sloppy behavior continues, Father and Grandfather will catch her red-handed and her life will be over. She'll be forced down the path paved for her long ago, with no end in sight and no detours. Fake smiles, deceitful deals, social politics, and way too many utensils next to her plate. What fun.

She can handle whatever they throw at her. But if something were to happen to the twins...

Pacifica would never forgive herself.

How long could she do this? And even if they didn't get caught, how long would it last anyway? Dipper would eventually just get tired of her and move on to whatever brilliant things he can do with his nerd brain, or move back to Piedmont for the school year, or get eaten by a giant monster from one of his books. The list went on.

She should be in the clouds right now, but yet again, she's caught in a battle with herself.

Being a teenager sucks.

-x-

The Diary = The Notebook, if it wasn't obvious enough. Sometimes it's hard coming up with replacement names for real life stuff!

Thanks for reading!