Chapter Two - Fight For Me

Dear Journal,

It has been three weeks since I became friends with the monarchs of the school. Actually, friends isn't exactly the right word... It's more like they're people I work with and our job is being popular and shit.

Dipper's school life became heaven on Earth. Girls left and right were flirting with him and slipping their numbers to him. These things that never used happen became to be expected. No one slammed his tray on the floor anymore, and no one called him names. He was playing with the big dogs now, top of the food chain and loving it.

The whole school seemed to love him now, or at least tolerate him and show respect in his presence. Football players talked to him, everyone knew his name. He was still quite awkward, but now no one seemed to mind. He felt less anxious in the halls and in class, he could speak to anyone without them threatening him. The world felt better this way.

Mabel and Dipper had seen less of each other in those three weeks, a fact that went right over Dipper's head, but straight into Mabel's heart. He didn't notice, he counted the fact that they say each other at home in passing and to and from school as hanging out, but she saw the deficit of what once was there between the twins.

She waited at her locker, which was right next to his, hoping he would pass soon. It took him 15 minutes longer than what she expected. When he arrived, she shuffled through her locker to keep it from seeming like she'd been creepily waiting at his locker to talk to him. Even though that is what she did, she didn't want this seeming so.

"Oh hey, Dipper! Funny seeing you around." She shut her locker as he opened his. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion but smiled brightly.

"How so? This is my locker." He chuckled and swapped out books from his bag. Mabel mentally cursed herself for her blunder.

"Right... You've been looking good these days." She accidentally came across more sad sounding than intended. She prayed he didn't notice. He didn't.

"Yeah, well, it's still the same me underneath." He smiled at her with an honesty that stung her deeply.

"Are you sure?" She blurted out. He stopped, his smile faded. He shut the locker.

"Look, I'm sorry I flaked on you last week. I've just got a lot going on."

"No, I get it. You're with the girls now. That's exciting." She fought tears, each word stressing on her eyes more than the last.

"It's whatever. We'll hang out for real soon, I promise!" Mabel just nodded and walked away. Dipper watched her go, her head down and body slightly sunk. He did feel bad for his preoccupation, but what was he supposed to do? These girls were a full-time job. Speaking of...

Indiana rushed up to Dipper, skidding on her heels and falling onto him from behind and using him to steady herself. "Pacifica wants you to haul ass to the table. Now! Come, on! Pronto!" She insisted and went off running as fast as she could in such high heels and dragging him behind like a resistant puppy.

Before Indiana had even finished towing Dipper to the table, Pacifica began barking orders. "Dipper, I need a forgery in Peter Savege's handwriting you'll need something to write on. Indiana, bend over." And so she did, the emerald girl bent at the waist so Dipper could use her lower back as a table. He hesitated before putting a notebook of paper on her and pressed his pen to the paper, waiting for instructions on what to write. "Write this; 'Hello beautiful, I've been watching you and thinking about the old days.'" Indiana and Atlántida both laughed. "'I hope you can come to my home coming party this weekend. I miss you, Peter.' Oh, and put an 'XO' after the signature!"

He ripped the page from the notebook and passed it to Pacifica. "What's this for anyway?" The red-clad idol read it over approvingly.

"I just found out Peter used to hang out with that sweater-wearing brace-face." All three girls laughed and Dipper tensed up. If he didn't have such a dependence on the reputation they served him, he would have just let his anger slip.

"We all did..." He started, holding his anxious protectiveness back from his voice.

"Well we didn't all kiss her in kindergarten!" Indiana added. Dipper remembered that day. His sister was so happy to have one of her crushes return the favor. She's long since over him but he still holds a place in her heart for being the only of her crushes to requite her attraction for even a short while.

"Oh I remember Peter kissing Mabel! It was disgusting!" Atlántida shouted, Dipper's hand balled into a white-knuckled fist. She was the only of the three who noticed and her smile vanished.

Peter entered with Wes tailing beside him. "Y'know, I'd love to be in the middle of a Indiana, Atlántida sandwich!" Peter quipped. Wes agreed quickly, the two fistbumping. Pacifica called the two over and they rushed over.

Wes whispered to Peter, "You think Pacifica would be down for like a Wes, Peter sandwich with her in the middle and like us as the bread, y'know what I mean?" Peter nodded quickly, looking up Pacifica.

"Quick whispering shit and give this to Mabel for me." She held out the note and suddenly both of the boys' faces dropped. Peter took it from her hand and went to unfold it.

"What? I didn't know you talked to that skank!" She put her hand on the note quickly so to keep him from reading it.

"No! No. don't read it. She's having an extra heavy flow and wanted some advice from my gyno." And with that Peter folded it back up and shoved it to the side, reeling. Both boys gagged and audibly displayed their disgust. He handed it to Dipper.

"Ew! Get him to do it!" Peter backed away from it. Dipper looked furious. Both football players left quickly.

"You can't do this to her, Pacifica! Not to Mabel." He tightly held the note, regretting haven written it.

"Why? It'll make her sooo happy!" Pacifica insisted. Indiana laughed and Atlántida grew concerned, but laughed anxiously.

"You'd kill her with this!" Pacifica stopped finding Dipper funny. She suddenly snapped to what Dipper called her dictator mode.

"Are we going to have a problem?" She was fully set off now. "Are you going to try to argue? With me? Let me tell you something, I will never listen to you. That's not how things go. This is a set-up where I'm the boss. Not you.

"You're not a loser anymore because of me, and if you'd like to keep it that way, you'd best get rid of that freak! Just because she's your sister doesn't mean she's your friend. If she were in your place, she'd leave you to rot." His grip on the letter tightened as his focus shifted from his anger to his realization of what he had done. "If you won't make the right choice, I will." She tore the letter from his hands, crumpling it slightly in the process and passing it to Indiana.

She held him back as he went to chase after her, he watched as she slid it onto Mabel's tray. "If you want to bitch and moan, you can leave and end up like her." She let go of her grip on him and he slumped down, absolutely defeated as he watched her read it from across the room. His twin's face lit up as she finished reading it and she stood, searching the room for him so she could tell him the big news. His heart ached.

She rushed to him, letter in hand. "Dipper look! Peter invited me to his party!" She looked legitimately happy, which stung even more. The girls all tried to hold their laughter.

".... that's wonderful Mabel.." He choked out his words. He felt like taking it from her and ripping it, like crying and explaining it's fake, but that would hurt her more. She ran off happily. He glared at Pacifica, who stood up and walked away, satisfied with herself. He never looked at someone with more hate. All three girls left, Atlántida stopping to put an apologetic hand on his shoulder before getting ripped away.

She doesn't deserve this.

Dipper just stood there, angry and upset, and hating himself for this whole thing. God forbid anything happens at that party... He knew that the girls intended on going and bringing him along, so he planned on making sure to keep a watchful eye on her and stop any sort of further insult. The table emptied out but he stayed just where he was. He sat down at a table and rested his head in his hands.

"You shouldn't have bowed down to the swatch dogs and diet coke heads. They're gonna crush that girl." A voice remarked. Dipper initially thought he was alone. He slowly lifted his head out of his hands. He looked around for the source, who was at a table beside his. It was a kid, probably seventeen, wearing a long black trenchcoat and black... everything else. His eyes were a striking, almost neon blue, especially since they were juxtaposed by dark circles of sleep-deprivation beneath his eyes and an etiolated skin color. His hair was greasy and blonde, with a faded black that implied a long-since deserted dye-job. In his hands was a large and heavy-looking book that had to be a thousand pages at the very least.

"I'm.. sorry, what?" Dipper spoke slowly, moved slowly, and thought slowly in the moment. The boy stepped up on a chair and fell backwards onto the tabletop, using it as a large chair.

"You've clearly got a soul, you just need to work harder to keep it clean. 'We are all born marked for evil.'" And with that, he slithered off the table and began to walk away. Dipper sat in awe for a moment before realizing how far the boy had walked already. As he left, he flipped through the pages of his cinder block of a novel.

"Oh, don't go quoting Baudelaire at me then walk away." Dipper turned in the chair to face him fully. He didn't stop walking. "Excuse me? I didn't catch your name."

He slowed then turned around. The trenchcoat puffed out like a cape while he spun. "I didn't throw it." Dipper just sat there stunned. Did he really just...

Wes glanced over at the two boys. He was just as confused as Dipper, but far less impressed. "Alright," He said to Peter. "Who does this guy think he is? Bo Diddley?" Peter shifted his focus to the two boys across the room. "Let's kick his ass."

"Nah, we're seniors man. We're too old for that shit." But Wes ignored him, pushing past the taller boy and closer to the other boys.

"Hey sweetheart!" He yelled. Peter rushed up behind him. If Wes intended on screwing around with this kid, he would stand by him regardless of his own opinion. "What did your boyfriend say when you told him you were moving to Oregon?" The boy ignored him. Wes slung his arm around the boy's shoulders and squeezed at him. Peter smacked the back of his head.

"Hey Wes, doesn't the cafeteria have a no-fags-allowed rule?" Peter joked, both boys laughed. Dipper couldn't do much but watch as this attack went down. He was weaker than both football players by a lot and he was already done with being angry today. He stared in shock as the boy did nothing but let a large grin. He slammed the book shut.

"Not sure. They seem to have an open policy for assholes though." The boy hissed without an ounce of doubt. He turned his head towards Peter with a swagger unheard of. Dipper's heart skipped a beat.

This kid's gonna be killed.

Peter turned the trenchcoat-wearing kid around and held him by the arms, opening a defenseless opportunity for Wes to punch him in the face. As Wes revved up his arm, the kid slide down so Peter was holding his shoulders instead. Wes came closer to punching him, but before he could, the boy swung his book into the jock's cheek, holding the heavy item tightly with both hands. Wes fell to the ground and the boy turned around, smashing the book up Peter's chin from below. He flew backwards as well. The boy prepared to walk away, but Wes regained footing, he took another swing at the mysterious student. He tossed his book to the ground and kicked him between the legs as Peter got back up and took a swing from behind him. The boy turned around and swung faster. Before his fist came into contact with the linebacker's face, Dipper's perspective on the fight seemed to come to a screeching halt in slow motion. He wasn't even part of the fight yet adrenaline took hold and the whole situation felt like molasses. He stared. The lines of his journal appeared in his head.

Why, when you see a fight, does it look so horrible yet feel so right? I shouldn't be watching this, I'm better than that. But when it's this kid... 

...damn.

Dipper couldn't look away. He couldn't tell if he was just impressed by or attracted to Mr. No-Name-Kid over here. He felt himself pray for this kid's protection, for his camaraderie so he could be in his presence more often, and so he could fight for him. Dipper rarely felt attraction to the violent, but there was something about him he couldn't shake. He wanted to hold his hand and go through no-man's-land with him. The thought of being seen with this kid felt impossible, the lone wolf wouldn't stand to be around someone like Dipper, right?

It's fine if you don't agree,

Soon his journal sounded less like a self-documentation and more like flirting directly to the kid.

But I'd fight for you if I ever had to.

The world began to speed back to normal slowly. Peter tried shielding his face with his hands, but the boy's fist collided abruptly and sent him back. Soon a crowd formed around the fight. Students blocked the way of teachers who tried to intervene.

...You punch really well. You lasted longer than I thought you could.

Wes got back to his feet, threw a punch and missed. The boy grabbed the quarterback by the head and pulled him towards his own, hitting skulls three times before throwing him back to the ground.

If you survive this fight, I would fight for you if you fought for me.

And after that last move, teachers finally broke through the barricade of students and grabbed hold of the injured football players and pushed the boy off to the principal's office. He was still grinning, satisfied and proud. As he passed Dipper, he winked, then got pushed forward again. Peter was lying on the floor and Wes was on his knees holding his head. This was when Dipper finally got up, clutching his journal tightly and walking out of the cafeteria. Amidst all the action, he had almost forgotten the letter he had forged to Mabel.

"That kid fights better than the real Bo Diddley!" Peter wailed while nursing a bloody nose. Wes ignored him. A teacher fed more tissues into Peter's hands. "Hey, have you ever seen Enter The Dragon? Bo Diddley fights with his shirt off and is like pretty ripped for an oriental dude..."

"God, you're so gay!" Wes fussed, holding an icepack to his forehead.

"Nuh-uh!" Peter shouted back.

"Yeah! Peter's eating Chinese tonight!"

"Shut up!" Peter kicked him, and Wes weakly flapped him. The two continued arguing in the nurse's office, occasionally injuring each other further.