How To Get Along With Your New Roommates: A Guide || The Bros of Room 421
Dipper had lucked out back in Berkley and gotten a single. Well, maybe his social life would’ve been a smidge more exciting if he actually had had a roommate to drag him out once in a while, but living alone definitely had its perks. For one, Dipper was a Very Neat Person. He was the neatest one in his family, which made his mom real proud, made Mabel real annoyed, and made his dad totally indifferent. And messes stressed him out. Unorganized messes stressed him out. And from his experience of dealing with dudes his own age, well, they were usually the epitome of Unorganized Messes.
Unfortunately, at PrideU, there was no such luck, and Dipper found himself at Room 421. It was a suite-style dorm, two bedrooms attached to a little common area with some very generic dorm-style couch and standard issue mini fridge. It took him two and a half trips to cart all his boxes up, and at the end of the half-trip (which was just his backpack and Leonard, the giant stuffed shark, tucked under his arm), Dipper stood a little ways in the doorway, most of his stuff already shoved into 421-B, and pulled out his phone.
Mabel had been giving him the silent treatment, since the beginning of summer. Well, as best of silent treatment that Mabel could give, which meant that though Dipper texted her and their parents updates about his Great Move, she only responded with the poop emoji (and occasionally the angry face one, but it was usually the poop). And yeah, to the whole “Just got all my stuff upstairs!” attached with a selfie of him and Leonard, Mom had said “So cute!!,” Dad had said “Good luck..Dips..” (in typical Benjamin Pines fashion using the incomplete ellipses), and Mabel had sent back a single poop emoji.
He sighed and was about to shove the phone back into his pocket, when he heard the doorknob jangle.
He whirled around on one heel. Alright, Dips, time to make a great impression on your new roommates. You can be cool. You got this.
“Hey!” he said, maybe a little too loudly, raising his hand up, and then suddenly realized he still had his other hand around Leonard, the giant stuffed shark. Great. All prospects of being cool, instantly wiped away. No one could be cool while holding a giant stuffed shark. If you looked up a guide of “how not to impress your potentially totally cool roommates in England,” holding a giant stuffed shark would be entry 2.
Maybe he could recover this by pretending Leonard didn’t exist.
“I’m Dipper,” he said, voice back to a cool, level tone. “Nice to meet you, uh.”
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