Bill Cipher thumbed the tender blisters scattered around his palms. The hot glue gun had put up quite a fight …

It was Valentine's Day. The day where classmates exchanged candies and red paper hearts and flowers and other gross things of that variety. Usually, Bill wouldn't give a rat's ass about the dumb holiday. But this year was different …

With a deep breath, he gently took the paper heart, alongside a chocolate bar, out of his backpack pocket and ran his fingers over his chicken scratch scrawling. The heart had been Mabel's idea. Well, in a way. Bill had just been inspired by her obsessive behavior whenever the holiday came around. The chocolate was his idea, because Dipper liked chocolate. It took forever to find enough loose change to purchase both the candy bar and the bus ticket to the grocery store.

But it's gonna be worth it, because it's gonna work. He puffed out his chest, clinging to the small, sliver of confidence he had left. Yeah. It's totally gonna work.

Then he spotted Dipper standing on the street corner.

This isn't going to work.

Before Dipper could notice him, Bill dashed into an alleyway, his heart thumping in his chest. Okay okay okay okay. Don't freak out. He twisted the hem of his shirt, trying to get his panicked breathing under control. Just. Don't think about it. Don't think about how he might laugh or rip it up or … or how he might not want to be friends anymore … His chest tightened with anxiety.

OKAY. Okay, stop not thinking about it. Think about … how he might not laugh! He might take it and, and he might get all red and cute and … and how he might say yes …

He clung to the image, waiting until the sick feeling in his stomach passed. Just go for it … Tucking the gift in his back pants pocket, he ran out of the alleyway and towards the boy waiting for him on the sidewalk.

"Hey, Pine Tree!"

Dipper turned around, and smiled. Bill's heart twitched in his chest, his face heating up. He nearly tripped over a crack in the concrete.Cool! Play it cool! Oh my God, he's so adorable … Once he reached Dipper's side, the two of them began walking towards school. They were silent. Bill racked his head for a topic of conversation.

"S-so, um, where's Shooting Star?" he asked. Dipper rolled his eyes in response.

"Oh, she's still finishing up some Valentines stuff for her classmates. Brownies or something. She's always so nuts about this dumb holiday."

A lance of uncertainty struck Bill's chest. B-but he's always liked Valentine's Day … He covered up his budding doubt with a snort. "Yyeaah.Psh. What a joke, right? Just a, a big corporate scam, right?"

Dipper was silent for a moment, and then shrugged. "Nah, it's really not that bad. It just … sucks when the only presents you ever get are from your mom and your sister. You know?"

Bill sagged with relief. Just you wait, kid. "Yeah … Valentine's Day is so much better when you have a real valentines."

"What? Didn't you just say it was a huge corporate scam?"

"I—um." Bill glanced down at his feet, wringing his backpack straps. "Uh, see, what I meant by that was … I-I just wanted to say—"

"Are you okay, Bill?" Dipper squinted his eyes, leaning closer towards him. "You're acting kind of strange …"

"W-what do you mean 'acting strange'? What would I be acting strange about? It, it's not like there's anything important going on in my life right now."

Dipper didn't let up in his scrutiny though, and Bill broke out in sweat. Seeming to finally reach a decision, Dipper leaned away, and he smiled. "So you're still up for movie night tonight, right?"

Bill released a breath of air he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Yeah … yeah, of course I'm up for movie night." He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. "Are you up for eleven hours' worth of R-rated gore and violence? Mom's old boyfriend left his stash of horror movies behind."

Dipper pulled a disgusted face, smacking Bill's arm. "Ulgh. You and your violence porn. You need some serious help, man. Besides, you promised we could watch some of my documentaries too."

"You mean the stuff with the bigfoot conspiracies?"

"Those are legitimate tapes, okay! Real cameramen went into a real forest to look for a real Sasquatch!"

"Sure, and my mom isn't real alcoholic."

Dipper groaned, rolling his eyes. "Well, you promised we could watch them, and that's that."

Bill made a big show of looking as reluctant as possible, even though he would be willing to watch a documentary about earth worms if Dipper wanted him to. "Fine, fine, whatever, we'll watch your dumb conspiracy videos."

"Documentaries."

"Yes. Those."

They were approaching the school. Bill was running out of time. The gift grew heavier and heavier in his pocket with each passing step.Okay … no more stalling. It's time to initiate the plan. Taking a deep breath, Bill pointedly glanced over at Dipper's backpack.

"Um, hey … one of your zippers is open."

"What?" Dipper looked down at his crotch in a panic, and Bill about smacked him over his head.

"Your backpack zipper, you idiot!"

"Oh!" Dipper laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

Bill rolled his eye and moved to walk behind him. "One sec, I've got you covered." He unzipped the front pocket and slipped the paper heart and candy bar inside before quickly closing it back up again, his hands shaking.

There. It's done.

"Thanks man," Dipper said as Bill returned to his side. Bill could only smile and nod, convinced that he had swallowed his tongue and it was being eaten by the butterflies in his stomach. They passed through the school gates, surrounded by their chattering peers, and Dipper began walking towards his first class. "See you at lunch, right?"

"Y-yeah," he said, and then added in a whisper, "I think about you every day and every night, all the time."

"What was that?"

"Um." Bill's heart seized up. "I, uh, said that you suck."

"Oh." Just as Bill was contemplating throwing himself off of the nearest building, Dipper replied, smirking, "Yeah, well, your face sucks. Catch you later!"

Bill watched as he disappeared into the crowd of school children, and for the first time that morning he finally felt like he could breathe easy. He stopped by the water fountain and took several long, calming gulps of water before finally heading to class, feeling like he was walking in zero gravity.

And now we wait.

…

The teacher was handing back last week's math test. Bill crossed his fingers underneath his legs. Please, please, please, I actually studied for this one … When he reached Bill's desk, he pulled a small, exasperated face before placing the marked paper in front of him. An angry red D-stared up at him.

Bill sighed. Well. There's another one to pin on the refrigerator. He crumpled up the paper into a ball and stuffed it into his backpack. The teacher told them to take out their notebooks. What's even the point? he wondered, pulling out his battered old journal. The spine was beginning to come undone. I'm obviously not smart enough to pass a stupid algebra class …

He doodled to pass the time, drawing random shapes like triangles and trees to sketches of eyes and hands. Sometimes he would try paying attention to the lecture, but it was never long before he got bored and distracted. It only got worse when halfway through the class a gaggle of older students invaded their room, brandishing candy-grams and roses.

He supposed that it was maybe unrealistic to expect one this year. He didn't have any friends beyond Mabel and Dipper. In fact, most of his classmates hated his guts due to his, in their opinion, "rudeness" and being from a "lower income household". And it's not like his Mom would want to waste money on stupid stuff like that and buy him one.

Still … maybe Pine Tree had the same idea …?

But the older students made their rounds, and Bill's name wasn't on any of the candy-grams. He couldn't help but slump with disappointment. Well … at least I can always expect Mabel's cookies. And unlike these other nerds, I actually have a date! Okay. Not really a date, I guess … But it's something! The thought helped to lift his mood, and he smiled timidly.

He's probably found it by now. I hope he liked the candy … He squirmed, scratching up his paper as his head filled with fantasies. Wonder what he thought. He was probably surprised. Or maybe he wasn't? Bill wound up tighter, heat creeping onto his face. Maybe he's always felt the same way about me? Maybe he's been waiting for this chance just as much as I have?

But what if it does surprise him? What if it confuses him …? "I had never even thought of you like that!" Does he even like guys?! No, wait, that's dumb, I've seen his internet history. A little of his unease left him. Okay … But that still isn't the only problem … What if he finds it funny? Like some sort of weird Bill joke … What if he laughs? What if someone asks why he's laughing and he shows it to them? What if … what if he shows everyone in the entire school?!

At this point, Bill had almost keeled over with anxiety. It was still another three hours until lunch. Why didn't I give it to him on the sidewalk?! Why would I do this to myself?!

About a half hour later, the teacher seemed to take notice of Bill's breakdown, as he asked him if he would like to be excused to the bathroom. Never one to miss a chance to skip class (one time he broke his left wrist just to get out of an English test), he booked it out of the room. When he got to the bathroom, he bent over the sink and splashed water onto his face until the nauseous roaring in his stomach had quieted to a dull simmer. Fine, fine, everything's fine, I'm fine, we're fine, everything is fine … okay … He took a deep breath. I'm okay …

Just when he had thought he was ready to return to class, though, the bathroom door opened and Bill watched through the mirror as Dipper walked in. Color drained out of his face. No. No, please God, no …

Dipper's eyes locked with him in the mirror, his eyebrows rising with surprise. "Oh, hey Bill."

What does he mean by that? Bill turned around, leaning back on the sink due to losing all feelings in his legs."H-hey." Oh my God, I didn't plan for this!

"It's actually cool I ran into you here," Dipper continued. He walked towards and began reaching for something in his backpack. "I wanted to talk to you about—"

"NO!"

Dipper blinked, looking back up at him. Bill clamped his jaw shut so fast he almost bit his tongue.

Not here! Not in the fucking bathroom!

"I-I … Just, follow me."

He grabbed Dipper by his sleeve and dragged him out into the hallway with laser focused determination, trying to find a quiet, out-of-the-way spot. He found it in the stairwell leading up to the second floor, and finally released Dipper's shirt. Moment of truth. Okay. I-I can do this. After taking several bracing breaths, he turned around, gluing his eye to the floor.

"Okay. I'm ready."

Dipper's eyebrows had crawled from his forehead up to his hairline. I don't know how to interpret this. Dipper cleared his throat, and again reached for his backpack. Bill squeezed his eye shut, his shoulders tensing. "Um. Yeah. So, I know this is a longshot, but you didn't happen to do Mrs. Anderson's book review questions last night did you?"

Book … questions? The words didn't sink in at first, and he slowly looked up from his shoelaces. "You're asking about … homework?" he asked, his voice small.

Dipper sighed, sliding his bag back in place. "Yeah, yeah, I figured you wouldn't have done it. It's nothing major anyway, I just felt like asking—"

"You didn't get my letter."

"What?"

Bill didn't know whether he wanted to feel relieved or disappointed. Mostly, however, he just felt stupid. Without a word, he turned Dipper around, zipped open the front pocket, and plucked out the unopened candy bar and wrinkled paper heart. Unbelievable.

"How could you have not seen this?" Bill hissed, waving the gift underneath Dipper's nose.

"I don't use that pocket!" Dipper said defensively, holding up his hands. Bill groaned, turning around and hugging the heart to his chest.It's not too late. I could get rid of it now. I can't do this, what could he see in a beaten ghetto rat like me—

"Bill," Dipper said after a while, interrupting Bill's inner tirade, "is that what I think it is?" His voice was so soft that it made Bill want to curl up under a pile of blankets and never move again.

Without giving himself another chance to second guess himself, he turned around and pushed the gift towards him. "Just. Take it," he said brusquely. Smooth. Real smooth. He winced. "You, you're more important to me than anything and, and I would give up everything for you, e-even my gross movies and body parts collection and—" Bill bit his cheek before he could say much more. When Dipper took the gift from his trembling hands, he jumped back as if he had been burned. He couldn't even bring himself to look as Dipper began reading.

Dear Pine Tree,

I love you. I love you more than anything else in the world. I see you every day and it hurts how much I want you. You make me happy whenever I'm with you. Sometimes I feel lost, but you're always there for me, and I'm always going to be there for you. Please go out with me?

Love, Bill

He had kept his handwriting, illegible as it is, as small as possible into order to fit everything on the heart. Nearly every wastebasket in his house was filled to the brim with rough drafts and revisions. He couldn't begin to count the number of paper cuts he had received these past two weeks.

And this is what it'll all amount to. He took a deep, rattling breath to calm his stomach, clenching his fists until his knuckles turned pale white. Please, please, please … please, just let this work …

Time passed in utter silence, and Bill swore he could hear his own heartbeat. Is … is he still reading it? Slowly, he looked up from his shoelaces. Dipper was staring at him, his eyes wide. He looked confused. And sad.

Then he held out the card, and Bill felt his throat close up.

"I-I …"

He could only watch as Dipper gently pushed the gift back into his hands, and stepped away. He stared, unable to process it thoroughly, until Dipper whispered, "I'm sorry, I just … I don't feel like that …"

"D … Dipper …"

The bell rang, causing both of them to jump. Dipper looked around, panicked like an animal caught in a trap. He spared Bill one last sad glance before escaping out into the hallway, leaving Bill with his paper heart and unopened candy bar.

It felt as if though something had hollowed out his insides. He casted his eye downwards, staring at the words he had spent painstaking hours perfecting. It all seemed like a big joke now.

Of course … of course he wouldn't feel that way. Why would he ever like a creep like me?

His chest became tight, and he had difficulty breathing. Moisture began welling up in his eye and he angrily scrubbed it away with his sweater sleeve. Who were you even kidding? You're an idiot for thinking he'd like you back. You're poor and worthless and have nothing to offer. Freak. Cyclops. Ghetto rat. The only person who pitied you enough to be your friend and you had to go a botch it. Well done.

Choking on a wet sob, he tore the paper in half, and he tossed it into the trashcan. He tucked his hands into his pockets, and started to walk, not really seeing where he was going.

You're so pathetic. Nobody is ever going to love you, you know.

I know …

I know.