The first time Sam sees it, he thinks it’s ridiculous. He doesn’t understand why anyone would write “flamingo… flamingoing… flamingone” and actually think it’s funny, or worthy of actually telling anyone. He rolls his eyes and texts back the guy he barely knows - who must have sent it to everyone in his contacts list - “That’s dumb. Get a life.”
The next text comes in next day, and all it says is “FLAMINGOING.” This time, Sam doesn’t bother to give it a reply. He just deletes it, and five minutes later it’s forgotten.
That doesn’t seem to deter Gabriel - Sam supposes he should start referring to him by his name if he’s going to keep texting him like this. Gabriel sends him a text every day for the rest of the week, always around the same time, but enough variation that Sam knows he’s actually doing it live and hasn’t just set it to automatic. Every time, it just says “FLAMINGOING.”
On a Friday, more than two weeks after these texts have started, Sam lets out a small snort. He quickly glances around, hoping nobody saw that. He tells himself it’s not actually funny - he just thinks it’s ridiculous that Gabriel thinks it’s so funny. That’s all.
The following day, he’s doing homework and he giggles when he reads it. Actually giggles. But he tells himself that if he texts back, “That’s dumb. Stop,” then it doesn’t count.
He gets another text back not ten seconds later. “FLAMINGONE,” it says.
“I hope the flamingo isn’t the only thing that’s gone,” Sam replies, because if he’s rude, Gabriel will have no idea that he’s shaking with laughter by this point.
“Rude. Flamingo fuck yourself,” is what Gabriel comes back with.
Taking a deep breath, hating himself just a little bit for sinking down to Gabriel’s level but also chuckling affectionately, Sam texts back, “This has flamingone on too long.”
The next day, Gabriel texts him, “Flamingo on a date with me?”