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Her friends like to poke fun at her. Most times she rolls her eyes, shrugs her shoulders. Her friends are all jerks, but sometimes, so is she. They're all a little immature, enjoying living out their last years as teenagers by being as much of a menace as they can manage. Robbie's the worst about it, of course. He still blames Dipper for their breaking up, and in a way he's right; it would have taken her longer to do it if the evidence hadn't been shoved in her face. She doesn't resent Dipper for it anymore. She just hopes that he develops some tact before he starts any dating of his own.
She used to think that was something she could sit Mabel down and get her to teach him, until that whole incident underground took place. She can understand Mabel's reasoning, but her actions were way uncool. She'd let Dipper handle it; she'd learned a long time ago not to get involved in sibling disputes. But they seem to have reconciled with one another, for the most part, and so she's not too worried.
It does start to annoy her, however, when her friends start ribbing her about it. "So, is your young boyfriend dude gonna join us for our next adventure?" Lee asks.
Wendy brushes it off pretty easily the first time, ignoring the slight jab. They all know he's not her boyfriend. "I dunno. Last time he came to hang with us, a bunch of ghosts attacked."
"My mom said ghosts aren't allowed in the car," Thompson pipes up.
"Dude," Nate says. "There aren't gonna be any damn ghosts in your car."
The second time it happens, the words actually come from Stan. Wendy's taking too long sweeping the back of the shop, dancing to the music on her MP3 player. When she finally emerges, Stan is testy, tapping his fingers on the counter. "Where've you been? I've been calling you for hours."
"You know," she says, rolling her eyes, "You could have just come to the back of the shack and found me."
"That would have taken effort," he retorts. "Are you done playing spin the bottle with Dipper, or whatever the hell it is you were doing back there?"
Wendy feels a little anger at the suggestion. She knows it's harmless, just some teasing in the usual Stan-style to get under her skin. She ignores it again, snapping, "I was sweeping the floors like you asked me to do. And I wasn't gone an hour, I was gone, like, ten minutes."
Stan grumbles something about sweeping not needing to take nearly that long, and she forgets what the rest of the day feels like. Except for that brush, that spark of annoyance she felt at Stan's ludicrous accusation.
The subject manages to go untouched for quite a while. As far as she can tell, things are back to normal - or as normal as they possibly can be, considering how much trouble Dipper and Mabel get themselves into. Her summer job at the pool is a flop and more than once her dad threatens to send her to some sort of away camp - probably something to do with lumberjacking, which she's so not interested in. And because she apparently cannot make any good decisions, she dives in for a summer romance and says 'yes' to Robbie.
Boy, what she wouldn't give for a time machine.
Robbie is actually the main reason her anger levels bump up to eleven. Her family has made her into a walking panic attack that she somehow, miraculously, manages to hide. But Robbie full force blow to a Jenga stack, and from day one there isn't a single thing about their relationship that goes well, and Wendy accepts some of the blame for that. All she'd been looking for was someone to kill time with over the summer. Clearly Robbie felt more strongly about her than she did about him, and in the end she was kicking herself for ever saying yes. The real wrench in the cogs was Robbie's behavior.
More than once she heard him teasing Dipper about her, snapping that there's no way she'd throw him over for a twerp like Dipper. Dipper's tone was just as spiteful, but his words not nearly as emotionally devastating. Wendy wanted to turn around and tell Robbie to leave Dipper the hell alone, but letting on that she'd heard would just make things an even bigger mess. And the last thing she needed was someone going around and spreading rumors that she actually had romantic feelings for him. As she found herself repeatedly informing Robbie, Dipper was just a kid.
And if the brainwashing hadn't been a nail in the coffin, Robbie's insecurity would have been. "Are you seriously telling me you're jealous of a twelve-year-old?" she snapped. He'd been complaining for the past half hour that she spent more time with Dipper than with him. "Do you even realize how ridiculous you sound right now?" she didn't let him get a word in edgewise. If she calmed down at all, he'd start back up with his tirade. "Of course I see Dipper more often. He lives where I work, Robbie! And I have to get a job so I can pay for all of our dates. Would it kill you to pick up the tab for once?"
Robbie scoffed at her. "You just like Dipper better than me."
She was too floored, too frustrated to get out what she was really thinking. She slapped him, hard, across the face, and retreated to the rooftop. She managed, just after setting one foot on the bottom rung, to swing her head around and spit, "And at the moment, yeah, actually, I do."
When she was an awkward, over-tall middle schooler, she thought she'd give anything to have a boy like her. Any boy, any age, any look, any type. Now that she was fifteen and the braces were a thing of the past, she had a twelve-year-old staring at her longingly, and she wanted to retract her previous statement.
Dipper was a good kid. He was nice, he was smart, he was mature for his age. But he was still twelve, and so it was still weird. Especially with his stage whispering things like "I love you" and "I've been laughing for too long." If he could just find a way to relax, they'd all be much more comfortable.
But 'relaxing' wasn't exactly part of Dipper's repertoire. Dipper got better about hiding his feelings after the underground incident that forced him to reveal them, but Wendy could still feel him feeling them. It was awful of her, she knew, but a large part of her wanted the school year to come so he could go out and find another girl, one closer to his age, to pine over. Pun intended. And when the summer finally did end and they said their goodbyes, she wished him a happy school year, said she'd miss him (which she did), that they'd keep in touch (sort of), and promised to see him again next summer.
But she didn't. The school year went by and Wendy got her driver's license. She was excited to illegally prepare the twins for driving by getting some practice out in the empty car lot. But by the fourth of July, they still hadn't shown up.
"Hey, Stan," she said, trying to appear casual. "Where are you great-niece and nephew?"
He rolled his eyes. "Their dad got to pick what to do with them this summer, so he sent them to some camps or something."
"So they're not coming at all?" he sighed in lieu of responding. Wendy tried not to be too disappointed, but she found that driving was a whole lot less exciting without someone to illegally share it with.
The next summer wasn't any better - family vacation. Soos managed to convince Stan to close the shop for a couple days for a vacation of his own. Wendy could feel herself slowly turning into a zombie - seventeen now, and no one to sneak into R-rated movies. Her friends were mostly at concerts - Robbie performing, Nate and Lee cheering him on, Tambry and Thompson following Warped and Lalapolooza or whatever the hell it was called. She was invited, but she tried to stay as far away from Robbie as she could, and she couldn't really afford to ditch work for the summer to follow around a group of bands she'd never even heard of to states she didn't really want to visit.
College was something of a godsend. She still came back to work during the summer, but she didn't have to clean up after her family (she and Tambry shared an apartment). Any free time she had was spent doing online courses for general education requirements so she could get them out of the way. The year after that was much the same, only somehow her dad managed to rope her into doing lumberjack games "for old time's sake." By twenty she found she'd saved up enough money to actually go and visit Dipper and Mabel, but something was stopping her.
She knew what it was: uncertainty. It had now been five years and over time, they'd gotten out of touch. Dipper and Mabel both were seventeen, probably looking at instate colleges so their parents could afford to send them both off. Mabel would be out of her braces by now, and both would be much taller. Looking at the faded photograph on her mirror was a sore reminder and a cruel dramatic irony. Dipper was the one who'd had a crush on her, so now why was she sitting around moping that he hadn't even tried to get in touch with her over the past year? She tried to put it out of her mind. She tried, she tried, she tried.
Twenty one came and went without much fanfare. Tambry was studying abroad, Robbie was touring with Nate and Lee as his...roadies, she guessed, but she didn't really know or care. Thompson was busy at his internship, and so she spent the evening alone, sipping vodka straight from the bottle. Stan showed up with Soos and a cake, with burritos homemade by Soos's abuelita. It helped to coat her stomach and make the hangover less painful. The next morning she was running late for a meeting with her adviser, and it wasn't until later that she realized this was the first birthday in six years where she hadn't thought about the Pines twins.
She should have felt happy. Instead, she just felt worse.
Because Tambry was out on her twenty-first, she insisted they do something big for her twenty-second. Her phone had been replaced by some obnoxiously large tablet that she was constantly tapping notes on - right now, a list of who to invite and who not to invite. Wendy insisted a party wasn't necessary - she could suffice with just a cake, some beer, and more of abuelita's burritos.
"Uh-huh, sure," Tambry said. Wendy rolled her eyes. A small part of her rejoiced in knowing that some things never changed.
When the actual day of the party arrived, Wendy was blind-folded and driven out to the Mystery Shack. She knew ahead of time that was where they were going - there was really nowhere else to throw a party. The real surprise came not when the word itself was shouted out to her, but when she got a look at just how many people had made it out. Her father and brothers were in the back, punching walls and each other in excitement. Robbie, more mellowed out with time, waved casually, guitar slung over his back. Toby was doing a dance, Blubs and Durland were DJing. It was small, and in a lot of contexts might have seemed a little lame. But Wendy didn't mind; this was all that she wanted, really.
"Here's to hoping your twenty-second is a heck of a lot better than mine was!" Soos declares, giving her a tight hug.
"Oh man, I almost forgot about that," she laughed. "I wouldn't mind the laser tag though, to be honest."
"If you're still up for it later, I got some tickets from Melody for my birthday." Wendy nodded. "Just as long as no one winds up in a time-travelling Hunger Games this time."
That caught Wendy off guard. "Huh? What do you mean?"
"What?" Soos frowned. "Didn't - didn't Dipper or Mabel tell you that story?"
"What story?"
"Well, like," Soos rubbed the back of his head. "There was some time-space dude from the future who came back and messed up some stuff at the fair, like, seven or eight years ago. And then on my birthday, he came back and challenged the two of them to an Agni Kai or something."
Wendy frowned, a memory from long ago trying to find it's way to the surface. "I'll be back in a bit," she said, not really listening for his response. She was too busy pushing her way through the crowd, trying to find the girl who'd set up this whole party. Once she'd found her, she dragged her friend out of the crowd and into a deserted hallway.
"Alright, what's the rush with you?"
"Okay dude, I know this is going to be like, a long shot, but," she breathed, hands gripping Tambry's shoulders. She waited until Tambry met her eyes at least once, to show she was listening, before she divulged what was on her mind. "Do you remember when we were five, before we went to that birthday part where I guess we met Robbie, we were riding our trikes around town, and we ran into these two kids? They were probably twelve at the time?" She bit her lip, watching Tambry's face for any sign of recognition.
She didn't even look up from her tablet. "Yeah."
"Do you remember what that kid looked like? The one I said was cute, and you told him -"
"And you pushed me off my bike?" she glared. "Yeah. He had, like, brown hair and a baseball cap and vest. He was, like, twelve or something." She tilted her head a bit. "He was pretty cute. He - Wendy?"
Wendy had broken away from her friend at the sound of the door opening and closing. Her heart was beating a little higher in her throat. She knew, somehow, who'd jut entered the party. "Well, aren't you two a sight for sore eyes!" Stan shouted. There was a bit of murmuring and cheering, cranking back up to the deafening roar that had quieted when they entered the room.
Wendy was right: Mabel no longer had her braces. Her hair was as long as ever, unruly and touching her hips. She was greeted with open arms by Candy and Grenda, who'd changed only in height. Next to Mabel, standing awkwardly at the door -
She didn't really get a good look at him. All she needed to see was the hat, and she was running, then holding him tightly. She expected Dipper to be a little flummoxed, confused by the sign of affection from someone he hadn't seen in seven years. But if he was confused, he didn't voice it; he held her just as warmly.
"I'm sorry I didn't write," he whispered.
Wendy snorted, pulling back. "You doofus," she snapped, slapping him upside the head. "Why the hell didn't you guys come back? The summer was lame without you."
"We got grounded!" Mabel added cheerfully. Wendy raised an eyebrow.
Dipper laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his head. "Yeah, our, uh, grades went down. Dad thought Gunkle Stan must have had a bad influence on us and wouldn't let us go back until our grades improved. Being able to come here for this was like, a graduation present. Or something."
"Oh god, you guys have graduated now," Wendy said, covering her eyes.
"Yep! Legal and ready to mingle," Mabel remarked, winking at someone in the crowd.
"I feel so old."
"Don't worry, by the end of the night, I'll have you feeling like a fifteen-year-old again!" Mabel promised. And Wendy soon found herself being dragged away into the throng, Dipper waving awkwardly, frowning as Wendy disappeared into the crowd.
Mabel sure knew how to keep a conversation going. For her, it was like there had been no separation, no time apart. She went through her list of previous boy (and girl)friends from the years gone by, chatting and braiding Wendy's hair like she'd just popped up for a sleepover. Mabel informed her that she was headed to a school for the arts, although she hadn't yet decided what she wanted to focus on. All she knew was she and Dipper were settling back into Gravity Falls, going to school nearby.
"So, wait a minute - you guys aren't moving again?"
"No. I mean, yeah, we are moving here, but," Mabel shrugged. "Nothing after that, as far as I know. Good education and a free place to stay - why bother going anywhere else?" Wendy couldn't argue with the logic in that.
By the time Mabel finally let her go, the party was winding down to just a few guests - most of them employees or people she'd gotten to know particularly well. Thompson was passed out asleep on the couch, Tambry using his lap as a seat as she worked on her tablet. Wendy frowned as she scanned the room - no sign of the pine tree hat. She sighed and quickly absconded up the ladder to the roof before anyone could see her retreating.
When she made it up to the last step and stepped out onto the roof, she felt her heart fluttering again. Dipper was sitting with his back against the roof, staring out at the sky. She licked her lips. "Decided to come usurp my happy place, huh?"
Dipper jumped a bit, startled, but ultimately turned his head to smile at her. "Yeah, I guess." She sat down next to him, copying his posture, legs hugged to her chest. "It's just really nice out here, you know? Not too crowded or anything, kind of cold."
Wendy hummed, not really know what to say. She never really expected to be in this position, to be the one lost for words. She figured she just had to swallow whatever awkwardness she was feeling and ask it. "So, why didn't you write?"
Dipper picked at the fluff and loose threads on his flannel shirt. "I don't know. I guess life just...got busy. I didn't really have anything interesting to say. Besides, you were moving on to bigger and better things. I guess I just..." he shrugged. "I didn't see a way I could fit into that. We only knew each other for a summer."
Wendy rolled her eyes. "Dude, I told you. Don't ever stop being my friend! I wouldn't know what to do with myself." She smiled, sadly. "I didn't know what to do with myself."
"Really?" he still sounded hopeful, some of the twelve-year-old coming out. She couldn't help but roll her eyes at him. "You- you missed me too?"
"Yeah dude, of course I did!"
Dipper smiled, straightening out his legs. He scratched his chin, where little hairs had started growing. For just a moment Wendy felt a disconnect, like the person she was talking to was not the same kid she'd gone on all those adventures with seven years ago. "I'm sorry," Dipper supplied, interrupting her train of thought. "I didn't know what to get you for your birthday. I didn't even know if you'd want to see me, so," he blushed. "I guess I'm your present."
She didn't put much thought into her actions - not the way Dipper did. She was already high-strung, so the more she acted on impulse the less she had to think about the consequences or the possible upcoming embarrassment. So instead of planning anything out, instead of listing or walking through it or asking or messing anything up, she turned Dipper by the shoulder and leaned forward and kissed him.
She could tell she'd caught him by surprised. She was happy for that, even if there was no real reason to be. She couldn't tell if this was his first kiss or not, but she didn't want to linger on the thought or the possibility that he already had a girlfriend back home. She could wager a guess that the answer was no from the way pushed back softly, hand coming up to cup the back of her neck.
She broke away just long enough to say, "Yes, you are," before letting herself fall back in.