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“Come on, Pacifica, it’s not even that tall.”
Pacifica puts her hands on her hips and sniffs loudly, “why would I want to do something as dumb as this?” She complains.
“I can see my house from here!” Mabel crows and spreads her arms out wide.
“Are you even listening?”
Mabel focuses her wide baby-doe eyes back on her, “Climb the tree. It’ll be fun.”
“I don’t know why I even come to this park.” Pacifica comments to herself dryly.
“If you can’t do it that’s fine.” Mabel swings her legs with carefree ease as she sits close to the top of the tall oak.
“Oh I can climb this tree.” Pacifica balls her fists, “I could buy this tree, tip it over and stand on the top if I wanted to.” She announces to Mabel expecting admiration.
She just shrugs, “that’s not really the point. Here!” Mabel claps her hands together, “I’ll guide you through climbing it. It’ll be like babies first adventure.”
“I’m not a baby.” She huffs.
“You are until you climb this tree!” She cheers.
Pacifica relents, it’s not like anyone was around. Just her and Mabel in their frequent ‘random’ encounters.
“Fine. The first and last time I climb a tree.”
Mabel giggles, “just put your hands on it and then push yourself up with your feet. This is an easy one.”
Pacifica was slipping right away, she has to dig her short nails into the meat of the bark and grip on tightly to stay put. Losing was not in the Northwest way. She struggles up the first part of the trunk, concentrating heavily on the placement of her hands and feet and boosting herself up an inch at a time.
She makes her way delicately up the thick branches and makes a point of complaining the whole way.
“Ugh, my knees are going to scraped when I’m done, not to mention my skirt.” She reaches for the next knot in the oak.
“Good,” Mabel watches her progress, “now place your left foot on the next branch.” Mabel guides her gently like some sort of chipper grandma teaching her to knit.
Pacifica sulks.
“Okay, you better help me up now.” She says as she finally sweats her way to Mabel's perch. Mabel reaches down for her hand and lugs her to the very top.
Pacifica’s hands are shaking and her heart beat is in her throat but she can feel her chest inflate with a sense of pride. She made it.
She smiles broadly, “that was easy.”
Mabel just nods, “now look!” She grabs onto her cheeks and swivels her head to the east. “That’s my place!”
She points to a stout little house with the words ‘Mystery Shack' plastered over it in big letters.
“That’s where you live?” Pacifica is almost genuinely distraught.
“Yeah.” Mabel tilts her head, “I guess I’ve never taken you there.”
“My parents would not approve.” Pacifica replies factually and then added quickly, “even if I wanted to.”
Mabel just slides closer to her, “one day we should have a sleepover.” She elbows her in the side playfully, “even if you say you don’t want to.”
Pacifica’s eyes go wide, “why?”
Mabel sways from side to side, “beep boop, I like spending time with you.” She bops her on the nose, “duh. Even if you are weird.”
Pacifica couldn’t place what any of this meant exactly, or why she cared, but she can't look away.
“Well, I suppose you aren’t so bad.”
They sit in silence for a few heart beats, they had a mysterious relationship to this point, even if they had known each other since kindergarten in the small dowdy town.
Pacifica points out her own house as well, making a point to mention you could see it from almost anywhere anyway.
Mabel tells her about her latest crush she had, a blonde who was just to die for, and Pacifica can only clench her fists and stare at the sun lowering in the sky like a weighed down balloon sinking into a sea of green.
“We should go.” Pacifica says as she feels herself begin to shiver.
Mabel shrugs, “yeah. Dipper is probably done with his dumb science project. I should get back.”
“Mommy is setting up a garden party. I should be there.”
They start to help each other to the next branch.
“Be careful at this next part,” Mabel comments with concern.
“I can handle myself,” Pacifica huffs.
“No really!”
Pacifica decidedly swings her legs down quickly to the next ledge, “it’s fine-”
She feels her feet start to slide under her, “ah!”
“Pacifica!” Her body is weightless, and then plummeting down, her stomach twisting like the feeling a roller coaster gives you. She can hear the blood in her ears and someone calling her name from above.
The ground rushes up to meet her, she tries to catch herself with arms and feels her wrist collapse under her.
A splintering pain ricochets into her consciousness, “ah!”
“Ohmygod,ohmygod, ohmygod.” Mabel scurries down the tree with abandon in Pacifica’s periphery vision, “ohmygod, Pacifica," She bites her lip, and looks her over, "please be okay.”
She cradles her head and Pacifica tries to come up with some sort of insult or blame to throw on her.
Her breath comes out in fast puffs.
They are nine and Mabel teaches how to count to ten through the pain. An ambulance arrives and Pacifica's hand is clutched in Mabel's, she doesn't want to let go. Fear grips her, she can already hear her parents rough voices over the throb in her arm, 'what were you thinking...', 'foolish...', 'that Pine girl...'
The EMT's bring Mabel in the ambulance along with her, she hadn't let go of her hand.
Later, Pacifica declares them true enemies, but she’s not sure if she means it.
///
Pacifica is thirteen and she is afraid.
She is curled up in her crawl space wondering where the game she was looking for was. Maybe they were too old for games.
She stares up at the bleak ceiling of her attic. Her insides ache and she pushes the bile in her throat down. This was dumb.
“Pacifica?” A small voice calls to her.
“I’m still looking,” She snaps to the voice.
“You’ve been up for a while.” A shorter girl plods up through the hole in the ground.
“Have not.”
Even Mabel sighs in exasperation, “you okay?” Her concerned voice comes out like a breath of dust layering Pacifica’s skin.
Pacifica pulls her knees to her chest, “of course.” She croaked.
Mabel saddled up next to her, cozying up to her in the dark, “what were you looking for again?”
“Some game.” She explains, “It was dumb.” Pacifica says sourly, “it’s a goodbye party afterall for teens after all.”
“It’s your party! We do what you like!” Mabel’s eyes sparkle and Pacifica feels sick. "A good time before you go."
“I don’t want to go.” She says in a small voice as she shivers in spite of the summer heat. She feels a small hand placed on her shoulder.
“Oh Pacifica.”
“I mean, it’s not a big deal or anything. I just don’t.”
Mabel gives a sympathetic look, “I’m sure you can make lots of friends and meet lots of interesting new people and have a ton of nice memories. You’ll see.”
“Boarding school.” Pacifica snorts, “right. A great time.”
“Weren’t you just saying how great the place was? That it had a whole stable full of horses and three course dinners and all that fancy stuff.” Mabel points out, her eyebrows knitting together.
“I lied.” She relents in a small voice, just a whimper in the towers of games and old artifacts.
“About the horses?”
“It’s not going to be great! It’s going to be the worst, I’m going to miles away, and,” she can feel her breath catching in her throat and the room spinning, “alone.”
Mabel lunges forward and embraces her in a hug.
“Why am I telling you all this,” Pacifica tries to push her away as she remembers herself.
“Because we’re friends. Even after the whole enemy thing, and I’m gonna skype you all the time.”
Pacifica holds her breath, “what do I do Mabel?” There was that small voice again.
Mabel pets her hair, “why not try crying? I always feel better after I cry.”
Pacifica sits up straighter and mouth hangs open, “no! Northwests don’t cry.” She is scandalized.
“It’s make you feel better.” Mabel sings.
“We should get back to the party.”
“Bottling things up is bad! My mom used to say that...I think.”
Pacifica blinks at her, Mabel never mentions her parents. “It’s not like I know how to do that.” She asserts, “Northwests don’t cry. Not even as babies.”
Mabel snickers at her. “Right. Of course.” Was Mabel Pines being sarcastic with her? Pacifica glares. “All you do is think of the saddest thing you can, and then squeeze your eyes shut. And…BAM.” Mabel makes a comic book noise and Pacifica’s not sure if she can feel sad.
“If this doesn’t work don’t blame me.” She closes her eyes anyway and imagines all the weight she felt leaning on her chest. It's claustrophobic but the pins and needles are still distant stings. “It’s not working.” She says flatly after only a minute.
“It’s okay,” Mabel squeezes her hand, “feel however you want Pacifica. It was just a thought.”
Pacifica hears the ringing in her ears.
She feels gasping breath rattle through her lungs, “eh,” she makes a small noise.
“There you go!”
Pacifica shakes, “is this…” She touches her own cheek, it was wet.
Mabel reaches out and pats her eyes, “it’ll be okay. It'll be okay.”
Pacifica doesn’t know what to do, but she leans into Mabel's shoulder and feels Mabel pet her head as she tries out this whole ‘crying’ thing.
She sobs little tear stains into Mabel's shirt and can't believe she's leaving.
She felt a little better, not that she’d admit that. They are 13.
////
Mabel always knew Grunkle Stan loved them, obviously, but only having one parent figure made them pretty paranoid at who was getting the attention. (Just to herself, Mabel always thought she was the favorite).
Of course, there were some things one parent-figure was going to miss.
Mabel remembered the day Grunkle Stan taught Dipper how to shave. He cut his cheek and whined about it all day, Mabel laughed, but. She never quite got that same talk.
“Oh no, a bigfoot sighting!” One of the boys, not the one she liked but the one standing next to him, pretends to hold up a pair of binoculars and observe her.
“Better run!” Another boy pretends to faint. They laugh at her, and Mabel tries to join with a few rusty guffaws.
“Good one guys.” She gives them a pair of finger guns. She reminds herself to never wear shorts to gym class again, she tries to hide her legs.
The class only got worse from there.
“Don’t get so close to me, you might shed on my white clothes!” One of the girls practically shouts, and there is more laughter, more echoes of Mabel’s own confidence running dry.
She can’t help it, the next thing she knows is that she’s sprinting, her eyes moist and the world blurring before her.
She huddles in the back of the locker room, trying to hold herself together, one self-hug at a time.
“It’s okay Mabel,” she tries to comfort herself, “your fine Mabel. You don’t have to be like them. You’re Mabel! Always...special…” She heaves gently.
She hears the door open in a loud aching yawn of noise and Mabel curls up on herself further.
“One moment!” Mabel calls to them, “one moment.” She just needed a little more time.
“Get up.” A very familiar voice echoes through her head.
“Pacifica?” She asks through a tear strained voice.
“I can’t believe those morons.” A vision of a girl walks into her field of vision, hands on hips and a spine like a arched bow, tall and taught.
“I can’t go back out there.”
“Duh. Here,” she grabs her arm authoritatively and helps her up, “surviving high school is still a thing, so I am going to help you.”
Mabel blinks at her, “you haven’t even talked to me since you got back from EastWest Academy.”
“Which was a terrible place, I know.” Pacifica sits her down on one of the benches and rummages through her gym locker. “And now I’m going to help you. Keep up.”
Her voice is as snippish as ever, Mabel almost smiles into it, hiccuping gently as she calms down.
“What are you doing?”
“These people are animals.” She declares, “but sometimes you need to give in to get out of these terrible institutions.”
“Pacifica,” she repeats warily.
“Did anyone teach you to shave?”
Mabel twists her mouth down, “no. I guess not.”
“There. Let me.” She yanks her leg out and takes out shaving cream.
“Why do you have that?” Mabel asks.
“Emergencies.”
Mabel accepts that sagely. “Now. We won’t ever let those hooligans get to you again.”
Her face was fierce, Mabel couldn’t help but want to watch her, suck in her sleek wrists and knowing grins.
Every since she got back she was still the Queen B, a short blond bob, a crown of gold and a string of pride keeping her lifted towards the heavens, Mabel couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy towards that confidence she still wore.
But then she remembered she was still the same goofy-boasting girl she knew from before. Just taller. And prettier, had she always been so pretty? Mabel didn't know.
“Hold still.” The girl commands, she slathers a foam over Mabel’s leg, “and pay attention.”
Pacifica slowly and precisely ran a razor carefully over her skin, instructing her inch by inch on the process and Mabel nods along, a frog in her throat.
Pacifica's words were like hard-edges and roof tiles, holding in a sharp tongue and bright words Mabel wanted to lick out of her mouth like razor blades to gnash her teeth on...Where did that thought come from?
She tries to coil into herself, but Pacifica holds her leg straight and insists on keeping it that way.
“You really know a lot about beauty, huh?” Mabel’s voice sounds starkly un-Mabel like, even to her ears.
“It’s not that hard. Beauty is beauty.” Pacifica responds, not looking up at her.
“What’s that mean?” Mabel watches as she finishes up with her right leg and then pat dries it. Pacifica looks up at her and then bites her lip.
“Now, I’m going to put some moisturizer on, this is an important part.” She instructs and takes out even more skin care products from...somewhere. "You don't want your skin drying out."
Mabel’s cheeks surprisingly heat up, she becomes aware of Pacifica’s petite hands, now much wider with spindly thin fingers that ran like the long twigs off a branch, patting her calf with a smooth silken oil.
“Why are you doing this?” She finally asks as Pacifica moves onto to her left leg.
“What?” She says in a normal sharp tone, “can’t people be nice?”
Mabel lights up and a smile winds it’s way across her face. “Sure they can! You’re right! Even if high school is a stupid place where nothing good happens. People,” she almost chokes, "are still nice."
A flash of concern flashes between Pacifica's striking blue eys.
“Yeah. Well, it’s not your fault. Those kids should learn to keep their goddamn mouths shut.”
Mabel laughs, Pacifica’s brow wrinkles, “what?”
“It’s funny.. you’re so prim, and now you curse, what even happened at boarding school?”
Pacifica just looks down. “Nothing.” She says quickly, “I just didn’t want to be there anymore. Now,” She flinches, “I’m almost done. We have volleyball to get back to.”
“I do like volleyball.” Mabel comments, “all the boys get so...jumpy.” She contemplates happily, becoming in a much better mood.
She catches Pacifica’s eye as Pacifica rolls her sharp irises.
Pacifica finishes up and helps her to her feet, “thanks.” Mabel expresses sincerely, “you really are a good person Pacifica.” Pacifica freezes at that and hides her face.
She turns her back on her quickly, “don’t mention it! I’ll bring you some of your own supplies tomorrow.”
Mabel nods, “have you heard the new Dream Boyz album?” She reaches out to the now strikingly tall girl.
Pacifica flips her short blonde hair over her shoulder, “I’ve been mostly listening to k-pop,” she sniffs, “you wouldn’t have heard of them.”
They exit the gym shoulder to shoulder, a warmth growing in Mabel’s gut. They were 15.
////
Pacifica was 17, barely 17, and attending her junior prom in a dress that cost her a fourth of a semester at college.
The junior prom was ironically held at the mini-golf course near the school, the one she used to play at as a kid. And she almost groaned at the idea, public school. Of course they chose the cheapest cheese-fest to hold it at.
However, it was all still better than EastWest Academy for Girls. Almost everything was better than that.
Pacifica watches her date carefully, he stares shifty-eyed at the punch bowl.
“Should I do it?”
Pacifica heaves a sigh, “knock yourself out.”
"Kay, Pacifica." He probably wanted to impress her. He sneaks over to go spike the radioactive red liquid.
Pacifica tersely wound a strand of her hair around her finger and looked on at the dancing crowd. The golf course had a cleared a large area for teens and all the latest pop songs blared.
Most the ‘dancing’ was hormone fueled bouts of grinding and Pacifica felt like choking back a bottle of cinnamon at the sight of it.
“Pacifica!” Pacifica flutters her eyes sideways, “come dance with me!”
It was Mabel, in a homemade neon pink dress that flared off her hips like a tutu and was adorned with more accessories than a Christmas tree. Some things never change.
Pacifica tried to ignore her, Mabel was persistent and grabbed her hand, “come dance.”
“We’re in public.” She hisses, she still had a reputation and surviving high school was still the priority.
“Come on, no one cares, we’re almost done!”
“One more year.” Pacifica mentions.
“It’ll be fun.”
She gives her a wry grin, “the last time you said that I fell out of tree.”
“Nuh-uh, last time I said that was last week. You gurgled tooth paste.”
Pacifica purses her lips, “just go dance idiot.”
Mabel shrugs, “I’ll get you to dance sometime tonight.” She sings.
Of course, Pacifica does dance, with her date, with some of the ‘cool’ kids and keeps her movement loose, but not too loose, controlled by not stiff. She had rules, and things to pay attention to. She toes the line.
Of course, Mabel danced with all abandon, her friends Grenda and Candy holding her hands and twirling in a circle.
Pacifica can’t help but keep her eyes trained on her. Her hair was loose and wild and Pacifica wondered why she didn’t have a date, Mabel was not the type to miss out on dates.
“Pacifica!” A voice calls to her, her date tugged on her left glove.
“What is it?” She bites.
He bounces his eyebrows up and down, “what about getting out of here? I hear the castle over there is empty.”
Pacifica gives a flat look, “look. I’m not sure if you get this, but I am Pacifica Northwest, and you are,” she jabs his chest, “temporary.”
He backs up at the chill in her voice and she smirks, Pacifica was not one to be tampered with.
He retreats and she stands in the crowd, swaying and trying to maintain her aloof air. The hour passes like syrup dripping down a rigged wall, her mouth mumbles words and her body goes through the motions of a party, she waits for it to be over.
“Psst, Pacifica!” That voice interrupts her thoughts again. However, she keeps her back turned to it. Survival. Pacifica was animal of instinct and rationality, she had social status after all.
“Pacifica! I need your help.” That gets her attention, she hesitates, eyes were still on her. But. Mabel.
Pacifica sneaks away, crouching and tip-tapping her way towards Mabel hidden behind the giant windmill.
She glances at the made-up girl, pretty in all the wacky ways that Picasso paintings are enchanting.
“I need your help."
"Yes?" Pacifica leans forward and gets on her knees.
"I need help helping you have more fun.” She declares, beaming, as they crouch out of sight of the party.
“Huh?”
“You looked like someone having the worst time.” She declares with gusto.
Pacifica stretches her legs out, “you don’t know that. I could have been having the best time, like just right now.”
“Liar.” She snickers.
“What was that?”
“Pants on fire.”
Pacifica roll her eyes, "we're almost in college."
"Yeah, not the nursing home!"
“So,” Pacifica looks her over, “how would you have fun then?"
“You’re on a date!” Mabel practically squeals, “he’s like the cutest boy in school.”
Pacifica contemplates her date flatly, “he’s boring.” Mabel frowns and Pacifica leans on the windmill. “You can have him if you want.”
“Noooo,” she whined, “come on Pac-pac.”
“No.” Pacifica tries to dissuade the nicknames Mabel tried to attach to her.
“You’re suppose to hug and kiss and declare undying love in the middle of junior prom.”
Pacifica can’t help but yelp a laugh, “what?”
Mabel shrugs, “it happens in the movies at least.”
“This isn’t the movies Mabel. And I’m not interested.”
Mabel blinks at her, her wide doe eyes as bottomless as ever, “why not?”
“Not all of us are romantic piles of goo.” She fluffs her hair.
Mabel pouts, “for a girly-girl that sure is boring.”
Pacifica eyes her, “is that what you’d be doing tonight? Hugging and kissing and undying love, blah, blah?” She articulates with a keen look.
“Maybe,” Mabel blushes, “yeah, I’d like that.”
Pacifica snorts, "teach me your simpleton ways.”
Mabel grins, “I’m sure you could afford to just buy them off me if you want.”
“Ten cents or two?”
“Fifteen and I won’t go any lower!” Mabel declares and they both laugh like they are old friends...and that’s exactly what they are.
“Besides. I’m not having my first kiss be sloppy. I’m a Northwest. I’m going to blow them way.”
Mabel leans on her and looks up at the sky, “all first kisses are sloppy!”
“Not mine.” She sighs wistfully.
Mabel glances at her, “you can’t just do that… without practice.”
Pacifica’s heart skips a beat, “so you doubt me?” She inquires.
“Nah, just saying.”
“Who,” her mouth goes embarrassingly dry, “would I even practice with?” She meant it to come out sardonic, but mostly came out soft and feather-light.
Mabel shifted, “someone you trust of course.”
Pacifica averts her gaze and looks at her hands, “like when they tell you to climb a tree and you break your arm?”
“I’ve said I’m sorry a million times.” She bursts out, but then freezes.
Pacifica can feel a metal inject itself in her spine, “so, I can trust you that is?”
She leans forward, overcome with a fantasy that tasted like synthetic grass and tiny houses that surrounded them.
Mabel shrinks back and Pacifica’s heart stutters.
“Oh.” Pacifica leans back, "Oh." She looks around, "I have to go." She moves to get up wordlessly.
Mabel grabs her hand and forces her to stay put. “Guru Mabel!” She practically yells.
“What?”
“You have to use this one someone you care about, K?” She says breathlessly.
“You can’t be serious.”
Mabel grabs her face and her eyes search her face, “pay close attention.”
Before Pacifica can second guess the rash and brutal night Mabel’s lips are on hers.
They taste like bubblegum lip gloss and the hint of peach perfume. Soft like she was meant to kiss someone for her entire life, moisturizer and delicate application of coconut oil.
Soft, and sincere. She kissed like she lived, a little off kilter but unique and drawing her in from her cardboard box and salt life.
Pacifica kisses back, and pushes herself into it with all her might.
They part all too soon, Mabel panting and still holding her face, they catch each others breaths and hold very still.
“Sloppy?” Mabel asks earnestly.
Perfect, dangles on the cusp of Pacifica’s mouth. Instead, she steals another hard-edged heart thumping kiss.
This time she wraps her arms around the smaller girl's shoulder and draws her in. Mabel lets her.
They kiss until the lights start to turn off and the party truly is dying down.
Mabel gently guides her face away, “what is this?”
Pacifica shrugs, “you told me to use it on someone I care about.”
Mabel’s eyes go wide, “for real?”
“Even if they are a childish terrible Pine.” She pokes her between the eye and Mabel playfully swats it away.
“Pacifica Northwest." She breathes, "you really are something else.”
She sighs and fluffs her hair, “I know."
Mabel laughs, she plants a final warm peck on her cheek.
Mabel’s eyes are hot stars, “does this mean…are we going to go out?” It was a flaming question.
Pacifica blinks at her, “would you…like that?”
“I mean,” the smile on Mabel’s face looks like it hurts, “you said you care about me. That's total dating stuff!”
“I’m not a boy.”
Mabel nods and grabs her hand and squeezes. "I know that dummy."
"And you want to...?"
"Kiss you and hold hands and stuff, yeah." Mabel puffs her chest out, "I'll teach you about it."
She can't help but give a slight smile, "sure."
Pacifica never thought of the word love, not since she was a little kid, and even then.
She shouldn’t think of the word love. But, she stares at Mabel, bubblegum and sparkles, maybe she could learn.