@spectrator
  Short fingers tugged at sleeve hems, bright yet anxious eyes darted toward the sole path through the park that led to this spot. For a short moment, Dipper wonders if he shouldnât make contact with the text conversation pulled up on his phoneâs screen. This was definitely the time, definitely the place. Dipper had checked hundreds of times. Heâd confirmed it with the other boy dozens more.
  So why hadnât Norman shown up yet?
  Dipper chews his bottom lip, looks to his truth-serum-dosed bottle of soda, looks back to his phone. No new messages. But... Norman had to come. He wouldnât just stand Dipper up, would he? No, this was his idea in the first place. But still... what if he did?
  He didnât want to think about it.
  Unfortunately, he couldnât stop thinking about it.
