"True. Maybe he's just gonna be HALF-crazy, I wonder what that's like!" said Mabel.
"Well, Mabel, you don't have to wonder, do you? Just look in a mirror." teased Dipper.
Mabel gasped somewhat playfully at the jab, punched Dipper in the arm, then grabbed his shoulder and said "Or I could just look at YOU, Mister-Crazy-Cargo-Pants!"
Dipper laughed heartily at his sister's retaliatory taunt, then started thinking more about who it could be. But he was TOO LATE! His walking had finished delivering him to the archaic, downstairs landline telephone, when Mommy said "Okay, here he is." She then turned to Dipper and said "It's a girl, she says her name is Pacific Northwest or something? Must be some sort of code-name, right?".
Mabel sucked in an entire litre of air before going "OOOOOOO, SOMEONE'S GOT A ~GIRRLFRIENNND~!"
Dipper immediately retorted defensively with a simple "Dude, shut up Mabel.", and then took the phone.
"Hello?" said Dipper.
"Hi..." responded Pacifica, in a tone that Dipper couldn't quite identify. Was it a snobbish tone? Was it a nervous tone? Was it a sad tone? He couldn't tell for sure, but he thought he could possibly identify which it was by asking the right questions. Which, of course, he didn't do. The next thing he said was a rather pathetic "So.... What's up?"
There was a short pause before Pacifica said "Oh, um well... This isn't my phone, I'm using one of my tutors' phones while they're in the bathroom. But. You have a cellphone, right? Tell me your number so I can call you -properly-!"
Dipper was utterly shocked. He had no idea how to process what had just happened, and it REALLY didn't help that he was rapidly losing blood to an increasingly engorged erection in his pants. Still, it didn't take much effort for him to provide his number. "(510) 867-5309" he said, as sweat started flooding his face and torso and scrotum and asscrack.
"Okay, talk to you later!" said Pacifica, before hanging up.