Leaving the House Where We Grew Up

Statement

"You crazy kids," was all Wendy could manage, having finally been caught up on what had happened since that frightful day that changed forever the lives of two of her best friends.

"That's fair," Dipper agreed, nodding.

"So, you both have dates this weekend to cover up your sorted little romance? You're not being completely reckless, I'll give you that," the redhead admitted. "But what if they want to go out again and then again after that?"

"It's high school romance, Wendy. If someone wants to end it after one date, everyone just moves on," Mabel explained calculatingly, pulling the phone closer to the passenger side of the car.

The twins had decided to reach out to their ersatz cupid and hit the highlights of the last six months. Hundreds of texts had been traded across the hundreds of miles between them in the interim, but, knowing there was something wonderfully real about a voice on the other end of the line, after getting out of class that Friday, Mabel pulled out her phone and called up the matriarch of their cherished childhood getaway.

Their older, wiser comrade had mostly stayed around the Mystery Shack, though most days therein were dead quiet. She had also been on a few dates, but none panned out to be anything other than a meal shared between friends. Wendy had actually planned on coming to visit California to get some sun during the doldrums of winter, but any time she planned to make the drive, a storm would roll in, and render the roads in and out of Gravity Falls nearly impassible.

"Well, you should get down here. Weather is getting nicer," Dipper urged her, while maneuvering the Subaru through the parking lot choked with hundreds of listless students, all seeking to escape the grounds as soon as possible.

"I'll see if I can find some time. Pretty soon, I'll have to get working on prepping the pool for summer. We like to have it open Memorial Day."

"And to think we used to look up to you," Dipper joked, honestly impressed at Wendy's sense of responsibility and wondering where it was born from.

"Hey, you wish you could be removing scabby band-aids from the pool filter. That is the shit," she sarcastically assured them, not be able to hide her laughter in the process, with Dipper and Mabel joining in.

"But seriously, Dip, dude, I'm glad you're okay. I know we've texted since then, but to hear your voice is such a relief. And Mabel, as I said: you saved his life, both literally and emotionally. It's the kind of story you want to share, about these two amazing people...but you can't," she added, assuring them that her lips had been sealed.

"Wendy, if you hadn't texted that morning, Mabel wouldn't have had a life to save. So, like it or not, you get credit, too." As Dipper spoke, a cold chill ran down his back, knowing how real the statement was. There was no embellishment: both of them really did save his life.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Wendy replied, failing to disguise her sniffles, "Look, you keep me updated. I mean it: if you dudes disappear, I am going to come track down your weird asses."

"Is that a threat or a promise?" Mabel asked unconcernedly.

"Yes," was the hilariously pithy rejoinder.

***

The one-off dates came and went. It almost felt like homework for the twins: they would ask someone out at school who had at least shown some interest in them at some point, agree to meet for coffee, loudly announce it to their friends at school and family around the dinner table, go on said date, and then disappear into the smoke.

It didn't take long until the curious observations from both crews the twins ran with quieted, and shifted instead to how much they 'got around'. They were forced to give up, on average, one night every couple weeks for the label, but it also meant being able to hide away in Mabel's bed every night feeling just a bit more comfortable in their arrangement and the secrecy it required.