𝗦𝗠𝗢𝗞𝗘 𝗦𝗜𝗚𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗦! adam reed

RULE 8! who hated me, was surprisingly a better friend than any of my real

﹙SMOKE SIGNALS ★﹚

I CLOSED THE DOOR BEHIND MYSELF!

adam groaned, turning to the clock. "already?"

"you're the one with the fucking babysitter." i shot back.

"what are you carrying?"

"a poster."

"of what? your celebrity crush who doesn't know you exist? weird fan girl."

"no, you stupid bitch. it's for our project. i'm not a fan girl. and if it was a celebrity poster, it'd be of me."

"oh right, because you're a trust fund kid! i can't wait for your book in 10 years, where you talk about how traumatized you are."

"yeah, i'll talk about how you made my life horrible and annoying."

"just like you do mine? i'm the victim here, clearly. you're barging into my house and annoying me."

"and i'm getting paid for it!"

"you don't need anymore money."

"you need to get a job and start making some."

"oh, should i become a trust fund kid, too? i'll pass."

"rot on your bed with your video games, then. not my problem, and it'll make an interesting chapter!"

"you're so fucked up."

"okay. anyways-"

"-bye!"

he turned around to leave, and i stuck the poster in his face.

"we still have to do our project." i interrupted.

"by we, you mean me, right?" adam questioned.

"yup!" i said, gently shoving him over to the couch.

i placed the poster in front of him.

"no." he said, after a few seconds of silence.

i stared at him, and he looked up at me.

"you can do the project on your own. whenever we got partnered together, i always do it." adam complained. "do something for once in your life!"

i glared. "i don't care. we can fail this project. i'm not doing anything."

"fine! we're failing, then. i'm tired of having to put up with you."

"you're putting up with me? maybe if you weren't such a fucking weirdo-"

"you're one to talk! you think you're so much better than everyone else-"

adam pulled out a paintbrush, beginning to draw information onto our poster.

as usual, even if he said no, he still ended up doing it.

he was always like this.

we always fought, yelling and saying we'd never speak to the other again.

but i'd always show up the next day, and he wouldn't mention it.

"i am so much better than everyone else!" i spoke, rubbing my eyes.

adam pulled a tiny bottle of paint, and begin to form letters on the poster.

"no, you're not. you just like to pretend you are. but i know you're not how you try to make people think you're like. stop trying so hard. maybe then, people would like you for you!" he easily swiped on another letter, and i slumped back, not prepared to do homework.

"at least people like me! you have no friends, adam. it's sad. maybe i have to be fake to get people to like me, but that's better than being alone." i replied, with a yawn.

adam rolled his eyes, more aggressively dipping his paint brush.

so aggressively, that it spilled all over our poster.

i silenced, staring at the paint that continued to spread onto our paper.

it was already horrible. i couldn't just pick it up and stop it from staining.

that meant i'd have to come back on my own free time, when i wasn't being paid to stay with him, for days.

i couldn't imagine being stuck with him and his stupid comments, because he made me feel horrible.

my anger issues were never gonna be under control.

i'd taken down the aggression with therapy, but in that moment, i threw it all out.

"what the fuck, adam!" i stared at the poster.

from the outside, it wasn't a big thing. not much was written, we still had time to re-do it.

but to me, it was a big deal.

"it was an accident!" adam defended himself, setting the paintbrush down.

"are you fucking dumb? can you not see? do you not know how to use your eyeballs? look before you do something! now i have to come back and spend even more time with you, because you can't do anything right!" i insulted, even though i knew it wasn't thst serious.

"jesus christ! what's wrong with you? why are you always so angry?" he stood up, stomping up the steps and leaving me to clean up the mess.

"adam, i'm-" i spoke to myself. "sorry."

shit.

another rule of revenge; mildly inconvenience them.

just to get on their nerves and make their day a little worse.

but sometimes, it collects, bubbles up and explodes into fights and stupid arguments.

it always did.

clearly my plan for revenge was going well, because adam hated me, and would storm out of the room if i even looked at him.

after wiping down the table, i carefully picked up the poster board and threw it away, making sure no drops of paint fell onto the hard wood floor.

quiet steps went down the stairs, and i washed my hands off.

i took a seat on the couch.

in silence, adam, who returned midway through my cleaning, took a seat at the furthest edge away from me on the couch.

i leaned back in the edge.

"uhm.. do you wanna watch a movie?" adam questioned, awkwardly.

"not really." i shrugged.

"oh. okay. uh, did you see our teachers attempt at fixing her haircut?" adam changed the subject.

instantly, i laughed, and my mood brightened. "yeah. it looks horrible. i don't even know how that's possible! like, how does it look worse?"

adam laughed, and my phone pinged.

instantly, i looked over at it. another notification from the instagram page.

"is that the instagram account?" adam questioned, out of nowhere.

"yeah." i nodded.

"don't even look at it. it's weird. that's stupid." adam reassured me.

i nodded my head in agreement.

my leg bounced, and i shut my phone off.

adam reed, who i hated and who hated me, was surprisingly a better friend than any of my real friends.