Indifference

The one-hundred and fifty-yard par-three green was composed of a mesh of quilts, and Rock and his friends Chris and Erin each hit it in regulation.
Rock hit the final of their tee shots, and his ball landed and stopped no more than two feet from the pin. "If I can hit enough shots like that, one of them will eventually go in," Rock said.
They walked along the cart path toward the green. Rock was the first to reach it, and as he stepped toward his ball, he saw that the hole was a cocktail glass and that there was a ball in it that stood out as Erin's. He recognized its quarter-size red smudge, as if she had haphazardly marked it with a Sharpie.
"Erin, your ball's in," Rock said.
Erin walked across the quilts with a look of indifference.
"Cool," she said.
Rock was surprised and unreasonably disappointed by her reaction.