Press. Release. Wait.

F-R-I-E-N-D-S Forever

Chicken.

I should have gotten chicken.

But this was going to be quick. I would make sure of that. I wouldn't want to get all worked up and stay too long because of something stupid like chicken. I needed to make sure this was a salad I hated.

I took a few bites. I'm pretty sure there was at least one in there that was only parmesan cheese. I stopped and put down my fork. I looked up at Adam. My eyebrows did a few disjointed acrobatics. Indicating... I'm not quite sure. Probably a bunch of things. Mostly confusion. Or at least an attempt at confusion.

I looked down at my salad as he began to talk.

I didn't really pay attention to what he said. I was too busy looking at my salad. The faded green lettuce just peeked out from the mountain of pre-grated parmesan. I heard they mix parmesan with wood pulp for those cheap containers of parmesan. I'd believe it. Can't really tell the difference anyways.

"-checking in with you. It's not like I don't care. I do. More than you think-"

"Mmm-hmm," I answered.

I couldn't imagine the chicken would've been any better than the rest of the salad now that I thought about it. This was the kind of place that just heated up a package of pre-sliced chicken and threw it haphazardly on top.

I glanced around, trying to see if anyone else had gotten a salad with chicken. Just a few peeks. To make it seem like I was still paying attention.

"We still work together, dude. We gotta think about having a good working relationship."

"Alright, cool," I said. He... was kind of right about that. Sort of stating the obvious though. I glanced behind me at the two women eating there.

One of them had chicken.

It was just a quick flash but I could tell. It looked... pretty good actually. Real grill marks. At least somewhat fresh.

Damn it.

Adam looked down to my salad. At the copious amount of parmesan cheese and numerous croutons scattered across it.

"Regretting it?" he questioned.

"A little."

"Maybe you should've gotten it with chicken."

Shut up.

"You want some of my burger?" he continued.

"I don't eat red meat." I said.

"Oh yeah. Your religious thing."

"It's not a religious thing. It's just a thing."

"I know."

"I know you know."

I glared at him but still couldn't stop myself from smiling. I was trying pretty hard to be mad at him. Him and his damn mind-reading chicken brain.

I picked around in my food for a little bit as he ate.

"Okay," I said.

"Okey whurt?" His mouth was still full from his last bite.

"We can be friends still. Isn't... isn't that what you were talking about?"

Adam finished the last bites of his burger, staring off into space as he did. He still said nothing as he dabbed his napkin on his face.

"So....?" I looked at him and absentmindedly began to rip my napkin into halves.

And then quarters.

And then eighths.

He stared off at everything but me.

"Silent treatment," he whispered at no one.

"What?" I answered.

"I'm giving you the silent treatment," he said. Like you keep doing to me.

Shit head.

"Okay. Okay. I get your point. I'm sorry," I admitted, "It's just awkward. Friends?"

"F-R-I-E-N-D-S." he spelled it out.

It was just talk though. It was all just talk. We looked at each other with the same understanding in our eyes.

It didn't mean a thing.