Dipper had told himself and Mabel again and again that there's no way fate exists. It's just a made up thing. Then, Mabel would normally say “as made up as unicorns?” And Dipper would have to explain that unicorns are rare phenomena but have the ability to be observed, but fate doesn't have an existence, at least not one known.

Needless to say, he didn't think of random chances. Until now.

You were here. You!! His middle school and highschool crush, all the way from California.

You're on the lawn of the mystery shack, standing under the porch light. It's late, and Dipper has to tighten his hoodie strings to make sure his chest isn't showing at all. His throat is dry, brain stirring.

“...Um… c-can I help you?” He sputters. Smooth, Dipper.