The sun was shining brightly through the windows of the Mystery Shack, casting warm light across the kitchen. I was sitting at the table, flipping through a magazine but not really taking in any of the words. My mind kept drifting back to Dipper. It was hard not to. Over the past few weeks, I’d found myself falling for him, though I was almost certain that he didn’t feel the same way. I tried to focus on my own thoughts but was finding it increasingly difficult to keep my emotions in check.
In the kitchen, Mabel was determinedly attempting to make some homemade noodles. I had to admire her enthusiasm, even if it was sometimes misguided. Today, she’d added a generous amount of pink food coloring to the pot, which was bubbling away on the stove. The kitchen already looked like a mess, with splatters of the bright pink dye covering the counter.
I heard a loud crash and a bottle shattered. Startled, I jumped up and followed the noise into the kitchen. Dipper was already there, surveying the damage. Mabel was standing beside the stove, her face a mix of frustration and embarrassment as she tried to clean up the broken bottle and the spilled pink food coloring.
“Oh no, not the dye!” Mabel exclaimed, her voice tinged with panic. “I didn’t mean to drop it!”
Dipper’s expression was a mix of annoyance and exasperation. “Mabel, you’ve got to be more careful. Look at this mess.” He pointed at the streaks of pink dye smeared across the floor. Then, he noticed the noodles burning and his frustration shifted. “And the noodles are burning. I’ll take care of this. Just clean up the dye.”
He moved swiftly to the stove, starting to tend to the noodles. I saw Mabel’s shoulders sag with defeat, and I decided to step in. “Mabel, do you need help with the cleanup?”
Mabel looked up, relief flooding her face. “Yes, please! I’m so sorry about the mess.”
“No problem,” I said, grabbing some paper towels and a mop from the nearby cupboard. As I started to clean up the spilled dye, I couldn’t help but sneak glances at Dipper. He was focused on the stove, his brow furrowed in concentration, and I admired how he could manage to stay calm in the midst of chaos.
I glanced over at Mabel, who was busy trying to salvage the noodles. “I didn’t realize you were so ambitious with your cooking,” I said, trying to make light of the situation.
Mabel chuckled, her hands still busy. “Yeah, sometimes my creativity doesn’t always translate to great food. But hey, it’s all part of the fun!”
As I cleaned up, I caught Dipper’s eye. He gave me a brief smile before turning back to his cooking. My heart fluttered at the small gesture. I could tell he was stressed, but he was handling it with that calm, reassuring demeanor that I had come to admire.
When the mess was mostly cleaned up and the floor was no longer covered in pink splotches, I stood back and sighed in relief. “I think that’s the worst of it.”
“Thanks, Pacifica,” Dipper said, giving me a more genuine smile. “I appreciate the help.”
I felt my cheeks warm slightly and managed a small smile. “No problem. I just didn’t want you guys to have to deal with this alone.”
As I watched Dipper continue to rescue the noodles, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness. I wished he could see me the way I saw him. There was something so genuine about him that drew me in, and I felt a little disheartened knowing that my feelings might never be reciprocated. I tried to push those thoughts aside, focusing on the moment and enjoying the warmth of being in his presence, even if it was only as a friend.
Mabel, still slightly flustered, managed to save the noodles with Dipper’s help, and soon the kitchen was bustling with the smell of cooked food. We all sat down to eat, the tension from earlier dissipating as we enjoyed the meal together.
As the evening wore on, I found myself stealing glances at Dipper, trying to gauge if there was any chance he might feel the same way I did. But for now, I was content to be close to him, even if it was just in a friendly, supportive way.
