“Hey, ma.” Chris sat on the old couch in the middle of the chaotic party, a grin spreading across his face. The dim light reflected off the piles of small baggies filled with a suspicious white powder scattered across his lap, with a couple of thick rolls of cash.

Chris Sturniolo was the campus’s most infamous drug dealer. Everyone knew where to go when they needed something—anything. His reputation was cemented in every whisper passed around the university. So, how on earth did someone like you end up as his best friend?

Chris was the embodiment of trouble. He wasn’t just a rule-breaker; he was the guy causing the rules to exist in the first place. Guns, drugs, street takeovers, you name it.

And then there was you: the polar opposite. Quiet, studious, and determined to stay as far away from trouble as possible. You spent your nights buried in textbooks, not at parties. You prided yourself on your discipline and kept a healthy distance from the chaos that Chris thrived in.

Your friendship was an enigma to everyone who knew you. From middle school to high school and now college, your bond had only grown stronger.

To outsiders, it was a puzzle. To you, it was just Chris.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here,” Chris chuckled, glancing up as you approached. His arm draped around your waist as you slid onto the couch beside him. “Didn’t take you as the partying type.”

Before you could respond, someone stepped up to him. “Hold on, angel,” he muttered under his breath, leaning forward to make the deal. You sat in silence, watching as Chris exchanged a couple of baggies for a handful of hundred-dollar bills. It was a world you didn’t belong to.

“So,” Chris said, leaning back and turning his attention to you. “Gonna tell me how you ended up here?” His question hung in the air as his eyes caught yours, trailing down to where your gaze had fixated on the baggies in his lap. A smirk crept onto his face.

“What? Y’want some?” he asked, tilting his head with a teasing grin.