Fire & Ice | Soulmate AU 1 |

chapter five

"You talked him up to this much?" Max asks as he sorts through the tiny baggies of pills that I dumped on the dining table of the common floor. Flint picks one up and examines it with a curious look on his tan face.

I left school as early as I could in the morning. I know that flashing my pretty little League ID to any police officer on or off of campus would keep me out of trouble for carrying around Valiant, but it would take a little while to verify my story. Getting stopped in broad daylight also wouldn't be help with establishing a good relationship as a reliable dealer with the Riveras.

"Yeah," I confirm with a nod, daring to be a little smug about it. Things went pretty well for my first day undercover if I do say so myself.

"How much is this?"

"Two-fifty," I reply, crossing my arms over my chest. "I talked him up from a hundred."

"Damn," Flint remarks, eyebrows raised in surprise. "You charm his pants off or something?"

I snort and shake my head with a roll of my eyes.

"Kid was seventeen, so, no, absolutely not," I say with shrug, "guess I just have a way with words or something equally as stupid."

Max nods in approval before sweeping the many plastic bags into a yellow legal envelope. He marks it with the date and amount in black Sharpie before tying it closed and setting it aside.

"How much do they go for each?" he asks, pulling over a white version of the yellow envelope from the other end of the table.

"Typically forty a pill." I run my fingers through my mess of blond hair and survey the massive amount of twenty, ten, and five dollar bills that are in the white envelope. Someone in the communications department managed to scrounge up the dirtiest and most destroyed paper bills they could find to fit the part. When the League goes in, they go in all the way.

"Let's say forty-five, though," I say as an afterthought, "I want to impress the big guys and get in good with them as soon as possible."

Max eyes me for a second before asking if I'm sure. Selling the Rivera's supply at a higher price than Chris told me to is a risk, but if it pays off there will be a great deal of rewards. The cut I negotiated with Chris is only ten percent, but I figure that goes along with my story quite well. I'm a "broke college kid" who "just needs to pay his tuition" so a grand and a half or so every week leading into August is more than I really need. He bought the story pretty easily if his reaction and behavior is anything to go by.

Max counts out the money to me and I shove all of it into a smaller envelope once he hands the stack over. I folded it a few times on the subway ride here for good measure. Every small detail matters when it comes to these people, apparently. If I mess up anywhere at all, it could blow my cover and cost people their lives. Chris doesn't deserve to die even if he deals drugs for the largest Valiant cartel on the east coast.

I put the envelope in my backpack and exchange it for a couple textbooks and a notebook. I grabbed them on my way out the door this morning and figured I'd get a bit of studying done at the tower to give Atlas some space. He's stressing over his last few tests and we don't work really well in the same room together when tensions are running high.

"What the hell is this gibberish?" JD says, jabbing a finger down onto a page in my notebook.

"Advanced calculus."

"You're a creative writing major," he deadpans. I shrug, rifling around in my bag for the mechanical pencil I know I tossed in there this morning.

"It's for fun. I needed the credits, anyway."

"Fun? My god, Max, this kid likes running and complex mathematics? Where did we even find him?" JD moans as he throws himself into the chair across the table from me.

Max only snorts and walks away to do whatever it is that Max gets up to during the day.

"Just because your brain can barely comprehend basic math doesn't mean that others can't," Flint says from over on the couch without even looking up from the newspaper he's reading.

"You don't have a say in this mister one and a half degrees," JD says, looking up sharply and poking a finger in Flint's direction. "You're an actual scientist." Flint shrugs in response and JD sighs loudly in exasperation.

The math doesn't require too much studying since the entire subject tends to just click with me like it normally doesn't for most people. JD mopes around the entire time I'm going over the material, scrolling through his phone and surfing around on his laptop across from me.

I finally slam my textbook and notebook shut at around noon, shoving them both back into my backpack and zipping it up tightly. Max and the Rivera gang will have my head if I lose the ten grand inside.

"God, you know what I really don't feel like doing?" I whine to JD, who looks up and puts his phone down. "Go all the way back to school."

"Is it that far?"

"Not really, it's just annoying, the back and forth," I reason. It really isn't that bad. I'm just tired of it.

"The semester's over this week, isn't it? You should move into the tower after the undercover work is over," he suggests. His suggestion reminds me that while the team knows I'm on an undercover job, they aren't allowed to know what it is. I'm not supposed to tell them about it, either, so I have to remember that whenever I talk to them.

I won't be able to move directly into the tower after the semester ends even if I want to. I can't even go back to the apartment Derek and I have shared since high school. I have to steer clear of the place for the duration of my undercover work with the Rivera group unless I want to drag Derek and his girlfriend into the operation.

"After the mission?"

"Yeah," he says with a nod. "We can move anything you don't need at the cover apartment they've assigned you into a suite here for the time being. With the way you're moving on up, it shouldn't be long."

"I hope so," I say with a sigh, standing and picking up my bag. "It's kind of emotionally draining."

"Agreed," he says with a pained smile. "They put me on an op in Germany last year. It ended well but it dragged on and on for weeks."

"Great," I say sarcastically. I'm not really thrilled with this whole undercover operation to begin with. The potential for it to go on for weeks or even months doesn't make me any happier.

"Oh, well, I'm sure yours won't get that way," JD says in a failed attempt at reassurance.

"I'll be seeing you around, Mitchell," I call over my shoulder as I make my way to the elevator.