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Just a three days had passed since our parents disappeared into their own world of irresponsibility, and somehow Adrien and I had already fallen into a quiet routine of avoiding each other. He stayed on his side of the cabin, I stuck to mine, and we only really crossed paths for meals or when we both needed the kitchen which was awkwardly neutral territory.
Still, even in silence, he found ways to annoy me.
Everywhere I turned, there was evidence of Adrien's presence scattered around. A hoodie carelessly thrown over the couch. A half-empty water bottle perched on the porch railing. His basketball bag sprawled wide open in the hallway, just waiting to trip me up.
At first, I figured it was just his lazy side showing—until it hit me. Back at the mansion, Adrien was annoyingly tidy. He kept his sneakers perfectly lined up and his room looked like something out of a design magazine.
So, clearly, this mess wasn't just a fluke.
