Red Hands | BillDip

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Bill drummed his fingers repeatedly on the counter at his work. He couldn't wait for the trip with Pines. He's never really been on those before his time here.

The business at the gas station he worked at had been booming with customers who were going on a break out of town as well. Getting gas, snacks, earbuds, all that stuff.

He turned his head and looked at a little red-haired boy at the back of the building—9, maybe—picking out a drink. He looked like he couldn't figure out whether to get chocolate milk or Gatorade. His mother saw it as well and advised him to get the chocolate milk, as the Gatorade will make him hyper the entire trip. Bill chuckled.

He thought about how the trip would be with the bossy Pines. He smirked. Hopefully, the kid won't fight him if he picks out his music. ...Bill will let him chose what music to listen to when it will be his turn to drive. He wondered what kind of music he listened to—probably the opposite of his style. Bill's style was great.

Now, the woman with her nine-year-old son came up to the counter. She smiled sweetly at Bill and put the chocolate milk and a drink for herself and some candy on the counter as well. "Hi!" He acknowledged. Greeting customers like that were surprisingly not tiring where he works. Most of the people that come in are nice.

He took the drinks and candy, scanned it, and asked if he should put it in a bag. Again, job description. The mother nodded and Bill put it in. He checked the price and reported, "$7.34." She reached into her purse and retrieved a couple of dollar bills and handed them to him.

Bill counted the money and realized it was way more than what the original price was. The woman gave him twenty dollars in fives. His amber eyes widened at her. "Keep the change," she winked. She grabbed the bag and headed out the door with her son, the bell on top of the door ringing.

"Merry Christmas..." he sputtered, looking at the door where the mother last was. No one had given him an an...extra large tip before. And this was pretty extra. Like, this was almost fifteen dollars. He absentmindedly put the seven dollars into the cash register and stuffed the extra money into his jeans pocket.

People are just that nice, he thought. He took out his phone and checked the time. 12:00 PM, it read. Bill's eyes brightened. His shift was over! It was officially Christmas break for him. He shot a quick text to the next guy on the shift, collected his paycheck, and headed out the door to his car.

"Time to pick up Pines," he said quietly to himself as he started up his yellow Ford aspire—yellow, unsurprising, innit?—and buckled himself up. He already put his belongings in the trunk before work and a cooler in the backseat for waters and all that.

On the drive to the college, he thought about what will happen on the trip. Will it be quiet? Talkative? Probably quiet, the kid kind of hates his guts at the moment. Not like Pines never did stop hating him, but you get the gist. He also wondered what to expect from his family. He knew Mabel and heard about their "Grunkles" sometimes, but Mabel and Pines' personalities are so far apart. Maybe the family will be all over the place and such. He wondered what the —probably—chaotic family will feel about him once they arrive.

Bill chuckled at the thought of Pines' family welcoming him with open arms. Pines will probably be glaring a hole through his back if that ever happens.

Finally, he reached the modern-looking dormitories and went into building C, where Pines resided. He walked up to dorm 46 and knocked cheerfully. "Coming!" Pines called, muffled from the closed door.

The bland, white dorm door opened. Dipper's face looked unhappy to see Bill himself, but the 21-year old new he was excited about the trip overall. Christmas and his family and all. "Ready to leave?" Bill asked.