Copy Dipper's schedule.

Shooting Star or Pine Tree… Bill mused as he stared at the twins.

Shooting Star was free spirited. She didn't take life seriously and preferred to live in the moment rather than fret about the uncertain future. She was crafty and liked making things – mostly gifts she would offer to other people – and her classes reflected that part of her. Shooting Star had taken mostly art courses with the exception of philosophy. It could have been fun. But Bill thought her courses were all stupidly simple and useless. He reckoned he might as well take something more challenging to make his scheme a bit less painless on his end.

Pine Tree was more on his level. He was more intelligent than most kids his age – but stupid all the same, Bill thought. Stupid all the same was right. Pine Tree had inexplicably taken a mundane Ancient History of Europe course and a cooking class with biology and computer programming. The demon had expected the meat sack to be more technical than that – throwing in some maths and physics. Why would he waste time with long forgotten fables written by self-righteous and pretentious meat sacks and a cooking class? A cooking class. How could those two things be useful in the least? It was most curious and it intrigued Bill.

"Pine Tree it is." He muttered to himself and glanced down at the blank paper.

He watched as blots of ink sprouted from nothing and snaked in every which direction, forming lines, and criss-crossing over one another. In a few seconds, he found himself with an official schedule. Then he snapped his fingers and his decision was registered in the school's database. Once he finished, he let out a deep breath and Bill cursed himself. He was already tired from such little use of magic. It was humiliating. He went to glare at the twins but quickly found them staring at him with round eyes. Bill jolted and bit back a yelp. He had been caught staring.

The two exchanged perplexed glances and Bill began to panic. As much as he hated them, they weren't that stupid. It wouldn't take long for them to realise who he was if he kept making mistakes. He needed to do something to make his staring seem far less strange, but nothing came to mind. Luckily, the bell saved him. He rushed to his first class with all the other students and melted into the thick crowd. When he glanced around himself, Bill found he had lost both Pine Tree and Shooting Star – not that they had been chasing him. He sighed in relief. He had only been caught staring which wasn't immediately alarming, but he needed to keep himself hidden by blending in. So long as Bill appeared to be an average teenager, he could maintain the element of surprise. All he needed to do was not draw any attention regardless of how outstandingly ugly Timothy was.

God damn it, Timothy. Bill thought and he lamented being stuck in such an ugly, ugly meat sack.

He went to his homeroom which happened to be biology. The room was at the other end of the building from where he had been before. The room was big and neat. Shelves and cupboards were cradled against the walls and were stocked with microscopes, measuring cups, test tubes, and just about anything else one would typically find in a science class. Half of the room was filled with long tables with built in sinks for experiments while the other half had movable and uncomfortable desks. Bill opted for a seat in the far back where he, hopefully, wouldn't draw too much attention.

Bill was the first to arrive within the room. The teacher hadn't shown up yet either. He was quickly bored and had half a mind to start messing around with some of the equipment. He could use some of his magic to make cracks as thin as hair in every single beaker or break the wiring in the heating tables so they would explode the moment someone turned them on. All these devious ideas popped into Bill's head and he grinned at himself. As much as causing an "accident" would be fun, he couldn't allow himself the luxury so soon. Pine Tree and Shooting Star would get suspicious if strange things suddenly started happening. He had to play his cards right and that meant, for the moment, no murdering.

Finally, students began piling into the class. Bill was surprised to see one of Shooting Star's friends – the Japanese one, what was her name again? Try as he might, the demon couldn't remember though he didn't try particularly hard. Regardless, he preferred giving fun nicknames to the beings he knew. What would he call her?

Glasses. He decided and nodded to himself.

Glasses stood by the door intimidated. She looked at the seats anxiously and skimmed over the faces of the people already seated. Bill feared he might be recognized for a moment but he pushed that fear away. He didn't really know why he was so paranoid in the first place. He didn't look like a triangle with a top hat anymore.

Unfortunately.

He looked like Timothy now.

Lamentably.

Glasses decided to sit around the middle, off to the left. Bill guessed she wanted to sit at the front but that seemed to be socially unacceptable. It would make her a "nerd". He still didn't quite understand what constituted a "nerd". From what he had gathered from the TV, a nerd was someone knowledgeable and he didn't see what was so bad about that. By all means, he knew every little secret to the universe, which would make him a nerd. Perhaps it was something he shouldn't share with the world. Timothy was already laughably ugly, Bill didn't need the world to find another excuse to dislike him and make him stand out.

A few more students walked in and soon half of the seats were full. Kids were talking to their neighbours and laughing. They discussed how their summer had been and shared stories. Everyone was mingling aside from Glasses and Bill himself. But that quickly changed. Blondie walked in with a click of rich kids looking both as snobbish and as slutty as they possibly could. Most of the students already seated suddenly cowarded and hastily stood up, grabbing all their things. Bill was impressed. Blondie seemed to have great authority in this terrible place. She could make for an interesting ally.

Suddenly, her eyes fell upon him and Bill instantly felt nervous. Perhaps he should have stood and stepped to the side like all the other students, but he hadn't known better. A grin spread on Blondie's face just as her other friends looked at Bill. One of the girls gasped and seemed excited. The demon sighed mentally. Stupid Timothy. He was about to get picked on because his stupid meat sack was just so ugly.

"He's mine, girls." Blondie said and flashed them a smile before strutting over to Bill.

She plopped down next to Bill and all of her friends took seats around them. They scooted their desks closer and turned their attentive gazes on Bill. It was humiliating to admit but he felt rather . So many people were paying attention to him and it was the last thing he wanted. Pine Tree and Shooting Star would get suspicious. He absolutely needed to blend in.

"The name's Pacifica," Blondie smiled and batted her eyelashes at Bill. She must have had something stuck in her eyes. "Pacifica Northwest. You may have heard of me."

"I haven't." Bill said bluntly. It was a lie, of course, but she didn't need to know that just yet. He was undercover. "I'm new here."

"You must be." One of the other girls sighed. She had a lip ring and blue hair. "We would have remembered someone with your face."

Bill mentally groaned. The teasing was about to commence.

"And your body." Another purred and looked him over.

Bill suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

"Hey, Jessica!" Blondie snapped, "I already called dibs so butt off."

"Dibs…?" Bill asked and looked at her quizzically.

"Yeah." Blondie confirmed and winked at him. Bill was starting to think he may have misinterpreted his current situation. "On you."

"On me…?" Bill asked disbelievingly. He felt like he was missing a bit of information.

"You're so damn hot." Jessica breathed. It was probably supposed to be quiet but Bill had heard everything perfectly well.

What? Bill thought to himself.

"Jessica!" Blondie barked.

He was hot? How? Timothy was so ugly. His hair wasn't brown, his skin was too pale, and he had a stupid dot just below the left corner of his mouth that wouldn't wash away no matter how hard he scrubbed. When he practiced smiling in the mirror, Timothy got this weird dent in his cheek that made him look even uglier. There were just so many things wrong with him. How was Timothy hot?

"Sorry, sorry." She said, "I was just looking. Don't worry about it. I'll respect your dibs."

"Hang on," Bill said, "I'm hot?"

The girls exchanged perplexed looks. "I mean…yeah." Blondie answered.

So he had misinterpreted the situation. Now that he knew what was going on, he thought back on what he had learned from watching TV. What did those kids do? Flirt? Bill wasn't sure how exactly it worked but he was ready to give it a shot. However, he noticed how flirting was the first step to coupling and he wasn't sure he wanted to get that intimate with Blondie. Perhaps he should opt for a way out.