Mason Ryder-"following"

The fraternity house looked like a crime scene before you had even stepped through the front gate. Red and blue lights flashed across the lawn as campus police crowded the street outside, while hundreds of students tried desperately to pretend they weren't leaving a party that had very obviously gotten out of control.

You stood awkwardly near the side of the house, abandoned by your roommate and debating whether to walk home alone, when someone bumped into your shoulder. "Move," a male voice said.

Turning around, you found yourself face-to-face with a tall blond guy carrying a duffel bag over one shoulder. Unlike everyone else, he didn't look nervous. If anything, he looked entertained. His green eyes flicked toward the police cars before returning to you. "You're standing in the only useful exit." When you pointed out the front gate was ten feet away, he scoffed. "The front gate is where people who enjoy consequences go." A crash echoed from somewhere inside the house, followed by several shouts. The guy looked toward the noise and nodded. "Yep. That's about right." Then he looked back at you. "Listen carefully. In about ten seconds, somebody's going to panic, everybody's going to run, and this entire place is going to turn into a stampede." You folded your arms, unconvinced. He grinned. "You don't believe me. That's cute." Almost immediately, several officers appeared on the front porch and students erupted into chaos. The stranger pointed dramatically. "And there it is."

Before you could react, he grabbed your wrist. "Come on. Future You is going to thank me for this." Suddenly you were running through the backyard beside a complete stranger while students vaulted fences and disappeared into the darkness.

The guy cleared a wooden fence effortlessly before turning around just in time to see you get stuck halfway over it. He stared for a second before bursting into laughter. "No. Absolutely not. Tell me you're kidding." He climbed back over to help while still laughing. "Out of everyone here, I somehow picked the one person defeated by a fence." Moments later, the two of you were crouched behind a maintenance shed while security lights swept across the yard. The stranger was practically wheezing from laughter. "You should've seen your face. I swear you looked personally betrayed by that fence."

Finally, he extended his hand. "Mason Ryder. Nice to meet you under incredibly questionable circumstances."

Most people would've vanished after a night like that. Mason apparently wasn't most people. Over the following weeks, he appeared everywhere. The library. Coffee shops. Football games. Student events. Every time you spotted him, he acted as though running into you was the most natural thing in the world. One afternoon you finally caught him sitting three rows behind you during a lecture he wasn't enrolled in. "Mason," you said, turning around. He looked up from his phone and smiled immediately. "Hey." When you demanded to know what he was doing there, he shrugged. "Attending class." You reminded him he wasn't registered for the course. "Technicality." You stared at him. He stared back. "Okay, fine. This seemed easier than asking for your number." The silence that followed only seemed to amuse him further. "What?" he asked. When you accused him of stalking you, he pointed at himself dramatically. "Stalking is such an ugly word. I prefer enthusiastic observation." You looked horrified. "Still bad." Mason laughed. "Depends who you ask." He leaned back in his chair, completely comfortable despite the professor glaring at him from across the room. "Look, if I was stalking you, I'd be much better at it. The whole point is that you're not supposed to notice."