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“You want me to pick a name for you?” he asked, incredulously repeating her words.
She beamed at him.
He stared blankly at her. Moments ago, she had barged into the room, and he’d been winding down with some light reading before bed. He set the book down beside him on the mattress.
“ Yes !” she answered. “I’ve found so many cool names- I can’t pick which one I wanna call myself!”
Before he had a chance to respond, she dropped a purple notebook onto his lap. He picked it up and examined it. The edges of it were bedazzled with silver plastic jewels, creating a kind of tacky frame. Spelled out in thick, multicoloured letters was ‘The Search For My Name’. He read it aloud to himself.
Eyebrows furrowed, he opened it and flicked through the pages, reading only the occasional word. She’d filled every single one (of course she had written everything with a glittery gel pen, he thought to himself), mostly with names, but there were random doodles scattered throughout. Soon enough, he reached a series of pros and cons lists, each page labelled at the top with a name in capital letters.
“Did you make some of these up?”
“Maybe,” she admitted in a voice that indicated to him that she meant ‘definitely’. When he doubtfully raised his brow, she raised her arms in exasperation (though this gesture was undermined by her smile). “What’s the point in having a name if it isn’t cool as heck?”
On the final page, there was a list of 20 names.
“So,” He held it up for her to see. “I take it you want me to pick from these?”
“Yep!” she replied, her grin broadening. He wondered how her cheeks didn’t hurt. “Unless you have any better ideas. I know you’re, like, the king of fancypants words no one’s said in the last century- maybe one of them will come in handy for once!”
Of course, he ignored her comment.
His eyes wandered over the names. He didn’t know how to pronounce the ones she had clearly created herself, nor the ones she had likely found from scouring the (or, rather, his ) dictionary and thesaurus. Surprisingly, she had also listed several common names (though he quickly realised that she had probably chosen most of them because of celebrities).
However, one of them caught his eye.
“ Mabel ?” he said uncertainly. “That doesn’t seem like the kind of name you’d like.”
“I love the name Mabel!” she insisted. “It makes me think of nice old ladies, like the ones you play chess with in the park.”
His cheeks reddened and returned his focus to the book.
“I retract my previous statement,” he muttered, scanning the page once again.
She shifted on her feet, fists clenched in anticipation as she eagerly awaited his decision. Uncomfortable beneath her intense stare, he glanced over at her and scratched his neck.
“It’d be a lot easier to do this without you watching me.”
“Sorry, sorry. I forgot that guys get stage fright.” she apologised. Before he could respond, she backed away from his bed and spun on her heels so that she was facing the corner of the room. In fact, her face was almost pressed against the wall. “Is this better?”
“When I asked you to stop looking at me, I didn’t mean that I wanted you to act like the Blair Witch just walked into the room…”
She groaned and rested her forehead against the wall.
“Quit stalling and pick me a name already!”
“If you shut up, it might speed up the process.”
Mouth compressed, she raised her thumbs raised in the air.
He hummed to himself as he (meticulous as ever) scrutinised the list once again. His finger trailed down the page alongside his eyes. However, no matter how many times he did so, his attention lingered on one particular name- the one that had caught him off guard moments prior. Even among all of the nonsense and obscure nouns and adjectives, it stood out, despite the fact it was written with the same shimmering, pink ink as every other word on the page. There was something about it that he couldn’t quite place, other than the fact that it seemed so… so her .
“Mabel.”
This time, he sounded certain. That’s how she- how Mabel - knew.
Mabel turned back around and beamed at him.
“I love it!” she exclaimed. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
She bounded over to him and flung her arms around him, burying her face in the crook of his neck. He chuckled and gently patted her on the back before he returned the hug. His fingers gripped the back of her sweater. Since he was sitting and she was standing, the position wasn’t entirely comfortable to hold for long. That’s why, after a few seconds, Mabel broke away from the embrace.
Everything seemed relatively normal, until she started to fiddle with her fingers.
“You know…” Mabel began. “Since you got to name me, it’s only fair that I get to name you, right?”
“I ‘got to’ name you? You asked me to name you!” he argued. His eyes widened in realisation and he folded his arms. “Did you only ask me to name you because you wanted to name me?”
“Pfft. No ! Of course not,” she defended, waving her hand nonchalantly. “That was only part of it.”
He rolled his eyes.
“Do you really think I’m gonna let you name me after I looked at all those lists?”
“Well, it’s not like you know what you want your name to be,” Mabel shrugged. “And, besides, you won’t hate it anymore than your name right now.”
His expression of annoyance was replaced with one of consideration.
She had trusted him to pick her name, so why couldn’t he afford her the same trust?
Following a few moments of silence, he sighed.
She held out her hand to him. He glanced down at it, then back up at her expectant face. He clenched his jaw.
“ Fine ,” he conceded, shaking her hand. Both of them were aware that he was doing this somewhat reluctantly.
Mabel clapped her hands excitedly.
“Yes!” she rejoiced.
He grimaced as she proceeded to jump around in celebration for at least five seconds.
It seemed like a switch had been flipped as she suddenly regained her composure (though her signature grin still adorned her round face).
“Okay, so,” she said, speaking as though she was making a business proposal. “I have an idea.”
“Of course you do,” he replied drily. He ran his hand over his face. “What is it?”
“Dipper,” Mabel announced.
She made a hand gesture that mimicked the shape of a rainbow.
He blinked cluelessly at her.
“ Dipper ?” he repeated. “What does that even mean?”
“Your birthmark’s in the shape of the Big Dipper, so I figured it’d be neat to name you after it,” Mabel explained. “Isn’t that cool?”
Well, maybe it wasn’t as ‘cool’ as Mabel thought, but he couldn’t say he hated the name. Then again, he didn’t suppose that he could hate it, since Mabel looked so proud of herself. Perhaps that’s why he didn’t feel instantly compelled to object to it like he suspected he would.
“Dipper…” Dipper muttered under his breath. “Well, it sure is better than the old name.”
A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
“Thanks, Mabel.”
She flashed him a grin, and his own smile widened as a result. Seconds later, Dipper found himself in another tight hug. A quiet sigh escaped his lips. This time, Mabel patted him on the back.
“No problem, Dipper.”