Now I See You | ✓

Four

I arrive at Mason's frat just after seven and he opens the door with a wry smile on his face. "One of these days, you're going to be on time," he chuckles, pulling me into a brief hug.

I shrug innocently, knowing that he doesn't really mean the rebuttal anyway. "Don't push your luck."

"Come on, the food's arrived. I ordered you Pad Thai," he tells me over his shoulder as he makes his way to the living area of the house, so I follow him.

Honestly, after all these years of friendship, it really shouldn't catch me off-guard that he knows my favourite kind of take-out food, but somehow, it still makes me smile.

A hoard of boys is squabbling around the table where the food is, clucking like hens about who ordered what.

It makes my lips tug into a grin, watching them like this. Whenever there's food or video games involved, everything gets a bit heated.

"No, that's mine!" One of the boys, Ezri protests, reaching out and swiping a box from Dominic's hands. "That's your one there."

A deep chuckle pulls my attention away from the bickering boys and I turn to find that Chad Williams, current president of the fraternity and probably Mason's closest friend within the frat, standing next to me, observing the scene with his arms crossed, amused.

Chad Williams is, objectively, pretty good looking. He's what some would describe as tall, dark and handsome: he towers over even my tall frame, bulges with muscles, has a very well-defined jaw line and keeps his dark brown hair shorter on the back and sides, but a little longer on the top. His ivory skin is pretty clear of spots or blemishes and his brown eyes are intriguing.

He's always intimidated me a little, though. Sure, we get along okay, but he carries an aura of knowing his place in the world: right at the top of the food chain, as a straight white male coming from a rich family background.

Either way, despite his obvious handsome appearance, I've never seen him – or any of the other boys at the frat – as more than Mason's friends.

They're friendly enough to me when I'm around, but it's not like they're anything worth writing home about.

Except maybe Ezri, who's a real sweetheart and always makes sure to include me in everything. Not in a weird or expectant way, but simply platonically. It's really nice, actually, to have another realally here, other than Mason.

"They're funny, aren't they?" Chad muses, eyes flitting to me.

I nod, laughing a little. "Yeah. I'm a bit worried there won't be any food left for us."

Mason appears at my side, grinning. "Don't sweat it, Judah, I got your food already," he tells me, offering me a box.

Taking it from him gratefully, I open it to find that there is indeed Pad Thai inside. I smile brightly at my oldest friend and take the fork from his hand. "Thanks, Mason. I'm starving."

Chad, being the president, clearly got special treatment – as he seems to have done his whole entire life – and Mason probably got to swipe ours early because I'm a guest, so the three of us settle at the dining table to eat with a couple of the other guys, while the rest of them continue sorting through it.

"So," Mason starts, halfway through a mouthful of his food. "How was sculpting this morning?"

Manal and Josie once told me they thought Mason didn't always treat me so well, but when he sits and asks me questions about my day, remembering details about what I'm doing, I know that I was right in telling them that he does, in fact, care about me.