6. LION
Chapter six
LION
Tim likes to grab a smoothie from Joe’s on Tuesdays, and with it only a block from my gym, I head there right after my morning workout with Beau and Levi.
I met Beau and Levi at the gym not long after moving to town. They hit the same machines I do every morning, and it wasn’t long before I just somehow joined in the rotation with them and it became a regular thing.
Levi is the manager of Club Yellow and Beau is the door guy. They’re both as strong as I am, and it’s fun pushing each other to see who will break first on each set. It’s also the reason my arms are an inch and a half thicker now from when we first met.
“Okay, I lose. Smoothies are on me,” Beau says, dropping the bar and wiping over his face with a towel. Levi and I hit five sets of deadlifts, he managed three and a half. “I think I’m getting sick.”
“You’re probably just tired,” Levi says, picking up his stuff and heading toward the bathrooms. We’ll all need to shower after that workout. I’m dripping with sweat and my heart is still racing but in a good way.
I sit outside Joe’s, the smoothie bar, with Levi while Beau goes inside to get our order. I’ll be heading right to work after and so rest my bike up against the side of the table, trying to keep it as much out of the way as I can.
“So, how is the family?” Levi asks.
“Good. King is still being a bossy little thing, and Daffin keeps visiting next door, and I swear they must be feeding him, too, because he’s gotten so chunky, but Reynolds and Chip have settled into the new routine nicely.”
“No new additions?”
“Nope, I think the distribution system is done with me now.”
“I’m still waiting for it to pick me once. How come you get four?”
“Just lucky, I guess.”
“Maybe. So, are you coming to the club on Friday night?”
“I’ll be at the game in Charleston.”
“Oh right. So, who’s the lucky guy Mouse has set you up with?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Sure it isn’t, and her messaging me asking about what the last guys you dated were like and why you broke up had nothing to do with her trying to pick guys you might want to be your dates at these games?”
“She didn’t?”
“She did.”
My bike is jostled, and I quickly grab it before it can fall and look up to find Tim Sage’s bright blue eyes wide and staring right at me as his hands clutch the handlebars.
“Oh my God, sorry,” he says.
“It’s fine. I had it in the way,” I tell him as my face starts to warm.
“No, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” His eyes are sparkling in the morning sun and highlighting little golden flecks that I didn’t know were there. He’s wearing a tank top that perfectly shows off his toned arms, and I’m finding it really hard not to stare.
Levi puts his hand on my arm and looks up at Tim. “Hey, aren’t you on that Banana Ball team?” he asks.
“Yeah, I am,” Tim replies. “I’m on the Funky Monkeys. My name’s Tim.”
He holds out his hand to Levi.
“I’m Levi, and this is Lion,” he replies, shaking Tim’s hand.
“Lion, we’ve met right?” Tim says, and I nod.
“A couple of times. Hey, do you want to join us?” I ask and go to move the bike back, but Tim’s other hand is still holding the handlebar, and it just brings him closer to me. He smells amazing. Like the pastries at the cafe, sugar and vanilla mixed with something sort of smoky and earthy.
“Thanks, but I…”
“Come on, you have a few minutes, right?” Levi says and pulls out a chair.
“I guess I could sit for a minute,” Tim says, smiling my way, and a flurry of butterflies swirl through my stomach. I hope Beau comes back with my smoothie soon.
“Umm, so do you all, like, work at the gym?” Tim asks, and I shake my head.
“Levi works at Club Yellow, the dance club downtown. I have a few jobs, but mostly I work with Mary Beth. You met her at Riverside Barbeque.”
“The girl with the pink hair?”
“Yeah, except she’s dyed it blue now. I swear, one day she’ll go to wash it and it will all fall out. Are you excited for next week’s game?”
“I guess.”
Levi leans back in his chair. “That doesn’t sound excited.”
Tim shrugs. “I’ve been trying to land this new trick play, and it just hasn’t been working.”
“You’ll get it, eventually. It’s like that flip catch you do. It took weeks of practice, right?” I ask, and the tiniest of grins creeps onto his lips.
“Yeah. It did, then one day it just… worked.”
“Exactly, and you landed like ten of those last season, so whatever this new trick is, I’m sure you just need to keep at it. You’ve got this. I know you do.”
“Thanks. You’re right. It took ages to get the flip. This is normal. It will work, I just have to keep practicing.”
“Exactly.”
Beau arrives with our drinks. “Mango Lush for Levi, Berry Blast for Lion, and a Watermelon Fizz for me. Oh, hey,” he says, noticing Tim as he takes a seat, and Tim immediately stands.
“I really should go. I have practice. I was just stopping in for a smoothie, but it was good to see you again.”
“This is Beau, he works at the club with Levi. Beau, this is Tim,” I say, and Beau’s eyebrows rise a little.
“Oh, so you’re Tim, the amazing Banana Ball player we’ve heard so much about.”
Tim’s brilliant grin falls a little. Does he not think he’s amazing?
“You know, from all the online stories, the media coverage of your games is pretty much constant from now until the end of the season. You played pretty well in the first round, you won, right?”
“They won two games, one against the OG’s,” I say, and Tim rubs the back of his neck with one hand, making the muscles of his arm bulge.
“Well, I better get my order before I’m late for training,” Tim says with a final little grin my way before he heads inside.
“So, that was Tim?” Beau asks, and I nod.
“He seems nice,” Levi adds.
“He is,” I reply and take a sip of my Berry Blast. The tart berries coat my tongue.
“He’s shorter than I expected,” Levi adds, looking at Beau.
“But that accent, woah, so hot. I saw you blushing when he said your name,” Beau says, looking at me.
“I’m just red from working out,” I say, and Beau and Levi exchange glances.
“Sure, that’s the reason,” Beau replies, but before I can try to reassure him, Tim comes back out with his smoothie.
“See you later,” he says, walking past our table to head toward the field.
“Have a great practice,” I call, and his gaze locks with mine for a split second. My stomach does a swirling thing that I don’t exactly hate.
“I better be off, too,” I say, grabbing the helmet and putting it on before slurping back what was left of my smoothie. Mary Beth is opening up today, but she’ll need help with the display.
“Will we see you tomorrow?” Levi asks, and I nod.
“Same time as always.”
***
“The guy’s name is Chad,” Mouse tells me as I sit on the train to Charleston. She’s talking about the guy she finally decided was worthy of this ticket from the numerous messages she got online. The last guy was named Ben, he was in his forties and had been trying to get a ticket since the first tour. The games are all sold out for every tour now, so interest has been high on her listings.
“Cool, and you already sent him the ticket, right?”
“Yep. He was so excited. Oh, and he’s got red hair, and he likes hiking and going to the gym, too.”
“It’s one game, not a date.”
“It’s one game that can still be a date. Seriously, my app idea is awesome. Anyway, he’s from Charleston, so not too far away if you do hit it off and want to meet up again, too.”
“Thanks, Mouse, but I’m okay. I don’t need my sister to get me dates.”
“When was your last one?”
“I don’t know. Oh, there was that guy I met at the vets when Reynolds needed his shots.”
“Oh, crap.”
“What?”
“I forgot to ask if he likes cats.”
“I didn’t bring the cats.”
“I know that, but what if he’s a dog person?”
“You aren’t allowed to bring dogs into the stadium, either. I mean, unless they are dogs for people who need help, like to see and stuff. Does this guy need help to see? I can meet him at the gate and help him to the seat. I wouldn’t want him to trip down the stairs.”
“Lion, he’s not blind, or at least I don’t think he is. But he’ll meet you at the seat, just… keep an open mind about this guy. I don’t like you being all alone with your cats.
“How am I alone if I am with my cats? The cats are there?”
“I… Never mind. Have a great time.”
“I will.”
There was no doubt in my mind that I would have an amazing time. I’m fourth row back from the right field side. Tim’s side.
***
When I get to the seats, Chad is already waiting for me, and when he spots me making my way past the people to get to my seat, he stands and grins.
“Hey, I’m Chad. It’s really great of you to offer up a ticket like this. You could have sold it for so much more.”
“I got a pair of seats from my sister and brother for my birthday. I wouldn’t want the team to think that there was a no-show to one of their games, so my sister set up the chat to find people who missed out on tickets, and I didn’t want to profit off them.”
“So, you didn’t break up with your girlfriend then?”
“I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Me neither.”
The crowd starts to cheer, and I turn to see the players headed down the stairs between the seats.
“This is so cool.” Chad beams from beside me. It really is. Tim jogs down the stairs with Pat and Ryan before him. There is a guy with a camera ahead of them, carefully moving backward and recording them the whole time. On the gigantic screen on the left of the field, the camera’s shots feed in and flick between each group of players making their way down.
Music begins, and the players start amping up the crowd to clap in time with them to the beat. I raise my hands above my head and join in, watching Tim the whole time as he steps past us, his gaze meets mine, and I wave. And my stomach flips again when he smiles at me and then follows Ryan and Pat toward the field, joining the players in their opening number.
Chad is already two beers in, and he wraps his arm over my shoulder as we stand and sway along with the crowd to the opening music. It’s great being surrounded by people who love this game as much as I do, and Chad is definitely one of those people. He’s thanked me about fifty times since we sat down and keeps grabbing my arm, and practically hugging me in his excitement. He reminds me of how little kids get when they see Mary Beth’s candy sticks in the display. Mouse really did choose the right guy to offer the ticket to.
Ryan steps up to the mound to throw the first pitch as the players fan out into positions and the rest head into the dugout.
Tim is right in front of us, and when the first ball is sent flying our direction and he catches it for the first out, I’m on my feet again.
“Wooo, go Tim!” I cheer, and he tosses the ball back to Ryan and turns and smiles my way, only then I’m sure I see him frown a little before his attention is back on the game. Maybe he doesn’t want me to call out his name. I was probably distracting him. They could have pitched the next ball, and he would have missed it if he wasn’t paying attention, and then it would have been all my fault.
“So, what else do you like to do besides come to Banana Ball games?” Chad asks, leaning in close to be heard over the general buzz of the crowd.
“I go to the gym with some friends. We go hiking sometimes, too. I also take out the boys.”
“The boys?”
“My cats, King, Reynolds, Chip and Daffin. They don’t much like being on a lead, but I got this netted seat attachment for my bike, and they like to be outdoors, so we go on rides around Savannah sometimes.”
“With your cats?”
“Yeah. Oh, right. Mouse said she didn’t ask if you were a cat person or a dog person. I told her it didn’t matter because both cat people and dog people can love Banana Ball. It’s not like we can bring them to a game or anything. I mean, there was this time last year when I swear I saw an old guy holding a cat, but then it turned out to just be a bowling ball bag. Do you bowl?”
“Ahhh, no. I don’t… bowl.”
“That’s too bad. It’s fun. I went bowling with a few guys from the gym. We started a team, but I guess Charleston would be too far away from Savannah to drive on a Wednesday night for bowling. I mean, we have a spot open in the team. But you don’t bowl, so never mind.”
The last three hits have gone to the left, and I can tell Tim is getting anxious to get his hands on the ball again. He’s bouncing from foot to foot, smacking his free hand into the pit of his glove over and over. If they’ve hit it left the last three times, they have to hit it right soon. I grab out my phone and hit record. Tim will love it if I get one of his catches on camera. He replied to every comment the last time I shared a video of his catch.
Just as I thought, Stevie Peterson skies it out to right field, and Tim takes off to get under it. The crowd is cheering, and I’m doing everything I can to keep the camera steady, then I scream along with everyone else when Tim backflips and catches the ball on the landing. It’s his seventh trick play this year already. He’s on fire.
I upload the video right away, add a few comments and share it from other profiles and then sit back and let the internet do its thing. By the time Tim is out of the locker rooms, he’ll have a bunch of people telling him how amazing he is.
Tim manages to get a hit off Gordon’s fast ball but is tapped out by Phillip on his way to third base in the eighth inning, and he slumps off field without the point. They go into the ninth tied, but they can’t get a run. If they keep Animal Control out, they will go into a tie breaker. As much as I would hate for Tim to lose tonight, winning by sudden death tie breaker would be pretty cool, too. Animal Control has one on base when they send out Benny G. Tim is bouncing from foot to foot as he waits for the pitch, the crowd is silent, all of us watching, waiting for whatever comes next.
Ryan sends down his fast ball, but Benny gets his bat to it. Lifts it out to right field. They’re in trouble. It doesn’t matter what Tim does, it’s all the way to the wall. Tony Parks jogs from third to cross home in a triple cartwheel to the cheers of nearby fans. Benny G has done it. He walks it off, securing two points for Animal Control and a four, two win over The Funky Monkeys.
At least Tim will have some great game shots to keep his spirits up after the loss. I should post some more on the train on the way home. I grab my jacket from the back of the chair.
“It was nice to meet you, Chad. Get home safe,” I say, shaking his hand and stepping past him to make my way out. It’s only game one for this week, and while they might not have walked away with the win tonight, Tim still played great.
I don’t see much of Tim at game two. With both the OG teams playing each other, Animal Control and The Funky Monkeys are littered through the crowd, and I only spot him once or twice on the other side of the stands, chatting with a few fans. It’s okay, though, because I’ll get to see him loads when he plays on night three.
At least that is what I thought. But when the teams run out onto the field, Tim isn’t with them.
At first, I think I must have just missed him, he was probably somewhere on the other side of the stadium, but when he’s still nowhere to be seen twenty minutes in, I know something has to be going on. I grab out my phone and head to his page. Nothing.
What if he got hurt at warm-up or something? I keep checking his page through the game, hoping he’ll post something, anything, so that I’ll know he’s okay. But when the horn sounds and the OG’s take the win, I’m out of my seat so fast, heading to the grounds for the meet and greets. I spot Duckie and Ryan walking my way.
“I didn’t see Tim out there,” I say, and Duckie nods, then looks away.
“He’s sick,” Ryan says. “Picked up some bug. Don’t worry, he’ll be back with us as soon as he can.”
“Thanks,” I say and leave them to sign autographs and chat with the Banana-Ramas who start to crowd them. There are other fans waiting, too, but with their matching shirts and caps, they sort of stand out in the crowd.
Tim is sick. Who is looking after him? The last time I was sick, I had my sister and brother both checking in on me, and Mrs. Crisps from next door brought me her special soup. It really was special, too. A few bowls of that and I was good as new in like a day. It’s just over a two-hour train trip from Charleston to home. I look at the time, then call Mrs. Crisps.
“How long does it take to make a batch of your special soup?”