Just come to the game. Please?
Since you said please. And since I want to crush those homophobic assholes.
Also I like your beard.
Pretend I didn't send that last text.
No, fuck it. I sent it. I’ll own it. And please consider changing your mind about rewarding me for my service. I have an objectively good body, unless you hate muscles. If you don’t like my face, you don’t have to look at it. There’s always doggy style.
…
…
I have a way of stunning people into speechlessness. I’ll show myself out.
But just consider it.
Okay.
Seven
A Master’s Degree in Overthinking
Beck
“Okay,” I say to myself during practice the next day.
“Okay,” I repeat while showering afterwards.
“Okay. Okay. Okay?”
That’s what Forest had said before ending our text conversation. The problem is, I have no idea what it means. So I stare at that damn text message a thousand times over the next few days, until the word itself ceases to have meaning.
What kind of okay was it? Like, okay-I-give-up-you-can-suck-my-dick?
Or, more likely, okay-I-agree-to-pretend-to-think-about-it.
A whole week of my life is spent in deep speculation. So, on the evening of the game against the Plague, I try one more trick. I ask a chatbot what “okay” means in this context.
This is the answer I receive:
Based on extensive linguistic analysis, “okay” in this context could mean:
1. Acceptance of your sexual proposal.
2. A panic-induced typo.
3. A subtle rejection.
4. An emotionally repressed yes. Or no. Possibly a maybe.
5. An agreement to engage in further discourse at a later date.
6. A glitch in the matrix.
7. A sign he’s been replaced by an alien pod person who doesn’t understand flirting but is trying to blend in.
8. A cry for help in Morse code. But just the "K."
