Page 13 of Offside

Frustrated, I locked my phone and tossed it on my bed. I was hoping for a few hot videos and a shower before bed, but that letdown was enough to kill the whole mood for me.

“You hungry?” I asked, looking back at the rookie I should probably have been getting to know.

“I could eat,” he mumbled, shrugging a little as he stood and grabbed his shoes.

By the time we were back at the hotel, I was four tacos fuller and at least knew the kid's name now–Keaton. It was an odd name, but he was also kind of an odd guy–who only got onions and lettuce on their tacos?

That was like…criminal.

To like all Spanish foods.

We weren’t best buddies by any means, but he was at least less tense about being around me, so there was that. He went straight to bed when we got in, and I was right behind him, only stopping to plug my phone in when I found it lying almost dead on my bed.

The screen lit up when I plugged it in, and I almost didn't look, but the pink app icon notification made me pause. I’d gone inactive, so the only people who could message me were those I'd messaged before…

And I only had one–I unadded the others when I was done with them.

MetalMonkey: Maybe.

Ten minutes later

MetalMonkey: Look, I don't know you, and you don't know me, so I’m sorry if this is a lot, but I don't know. You’re not real, so it's fine.

MetalMonkey: I don’t know if I’m questioning things sexuality wise, but all I know is shit hasn’t worked out this far. Sex is okay–it’s not great enough that I go crazy for it, and most of the time, I find myself just waiting for it to be over so I can get myself off alone–like performance anxiety or something. I don’t know.

MetalMonkey: I just know that I see my friend, who’s dating a guy, and they’re so happy… I mean, like really happy. Like the annoying kind of happy that makes everyone around them gag, but like I want that! God–I want it so bad, and that's so not cool or even attainable for me–I don’t know why I'm so bad with people or why it’s so hard for me to just open up to people, but I can’t–or I can, but only when they’re anonymous men on the internet with a hand down their pants, waiting for me to get to the part where I show him my dick or something.

MetalMonkey: No offense–you actually seem kind of nice, and that was really rude of me, but this app doesn't let me unsend messages.

MetalMonkey: Which is also giving me a little anxiety because now I’m re-reading all that to make sure I didn’t accidentally tell you who I was in it or something–this is really stressful.

MetalMonkey: I’m sorry. That was a lot, and I’m sorry. Not very metal of me, and I’m sorry.

MetalMonkey: Goodnight.

My chest…hurt.

It was the weirdest thing–I…completely understood every word he wrote.

Maybe it wasn’t the same, and it might have been rude to say so, but we were the same, in a way. His was clearly social anxiety or just a lack of social skills, but it mirrored not being able to be honest with anyone around you–it was lonely.

He was lonely.

Just like me.

Chapter 6

Sam

BaskarKnight: I totally get that. Contrary to the app on which we are sitting now, I understand that because I feel it, too. I don’t get to be ‘out’ in my normal life–like no one outside my family knows, and it’s really lonely. I know it’s not the same, and maybe it’s rude to compare it, but I get it.

BaskarKnight: You don’t have to disappear if you don’t want to. Both my hands are currently on my phone, so if you want to talk, we can.

Waking up after sending all those messages felt worse than waking up with a hangover. I had the same level of shame and regret after, only no alcohol induced fun to show for it.

Just message after message of regret, followed by two hours of no reply, before I finally went to bed.

Waking up to a response was nerve-racking, but then it was so nice that I almost choked. I'd been expecting some kind of pushback from him or some awkwardness from being left on read, but he didn’t choose either.