21. TIM
Chapter twenty-one
TIM
I was worried at first about Lion being up in the GM box for the game. I know Bart and Enzo said they were supporting us, but there was this tiny piece of me that worried they were up there trying to warn him away from me, telling him to leave me to make this all go away, and I know Lion would do anything for me. But when he called out using Bart’s megaphone, all that fear disappeared.
And then I hit another fucking home run. Like how? It’s all because of Lion. He would say it’s all me. And I get that I’m the one swinging the bat, but it’s his belief in me that really is the force behind it. His faith. Stepping into the media room with Bart and Enzo, it’s Lion’s turn to see how much faith I have in him. In us. In what we could be. Because I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. And I am not ready to let that feeling go. I don’t think I ever will be ready to.
The lights flash, and people call out too many questions all at once for me to make out any one of them clearly. Enzo and Will, the media manager, settle the crowd, and Bart and I sit.
“You will all get a chance to ask your questions, but first Tim has a statement he would like to make,” Bart says, and I grab the glass of water in front of me, drinking half of it down. I didn’t write anything, but the PR team did, and it sounded okay, but not like me at all. I don’t think they would mind if I Tim it up a bit.
My heart races, and my hands grow warm, my gaze moving through them, pens in hand, cameras on me, all of them waiting for me to tell them about Lion, about us. This is so fucked up that I even have to do this.
My gaze falls on Ian, and he offers me an encouraging nod. I’ll focus on him. He’s a friend. He knows Lion. He knows us.
“Okay, so I know a lot of stories are out there right now about me and a friend of mine, Lion,” I begin, and while I bet they want to burst into questions again, they all stay silent listening and waiting for the opportunity to ask. “Lion is a fan of Banana Ball, and yes, he is a fan of mine. We met at one of my favorite places to eat after he saw a post I made about it being the best barbeque place in Savannah. Riverside Barbeque. I hope heaps of people have eaten there after my post, it was kind of the point of it. But anyway, I sidetracked a little there, sorry. Umm.” I’ve lost my place on the paper. “Lion. He’s…”
How do I explain Lion? How do I explain that, yes, he’s a fan but not a stalker? What I tell them now is supposed to convince them and the Banana-Ramas to leave him alone, leave us alone. Fuck.
Bart leans in to whisper in my ear, covering the mic in front of me with one hand.
“Maybe just address the rumors one by one, like on the paper,” he says, sliding another piece of paper toward me on the table. On it is a list of a few of the things the Banana-Ramas are saying. Seeing them written out like this stirs a fire inside me. Seeing the sweet-natured things Lion has done for me twisted into something sinister is just horrible.
“He’s not a stalker,” I say, and they murmur but say nothing. “Lion has lots of jobs like many people in Savannah and yes, he worked at Stevie’s wedding, but if any of you bothered to check, he was hired by the catering company well before that event and was called in when someone didn’t show up at the last minute. And no, he didn’t make someone sick in order to get to fill in for them.”
Ian chuckles and shakes his head. He and Duckie know what it’s like with some reporters making up stories to suit the image they want to project.
“He had nothing to do with anyone leaving the game, either. Bart can confirm this,” I say, turning his way.
“That is true,” he replies with a thin smile.
“Did Lion create twenty-three profiles online to post about Banana Ball? Okay, yes, but I never paid him to. Just check the history of his main account, he’s had it open since before Banana Ball started. He’s been a fan of the game since day one.”
A guy in the back raises his hand but doesn’t wait to be called on. Instead, he yells out his question. “So why did his posts suddenly become all about you, right when your game, let’s just say, wasn’t at its best?”
Bart leans forward, but I shake my head. “It’s okay,” I say, looking the reporter dead in the face. “Like I said, he’s followed Banana Ball from the beginning, and like most of you, he has a favorite player, and yes, that player is me. And when he saw my game start to slip and the comments online started to turn from supportive to angry and hateful, he decided to try to do something to make me feel better. He wanted to drown out the hate with praise and celebration of me, and you know what? It worked. You sit there writing stories about us, not even fact checking half the time, hiding behind phrases like, ‘it’s been reported,’ or ‘allegations are being investigated.’ But once you put it out there, people believe it. They sit behind their screens replying and sharing and saying horrible things, and it can really bring a person down. Lion saw that, and he chose to do something to counteract it. Was it the right choice? I don’t know. You say no. I say what he did saved me from a really dark place.”
“Then you didn’t hire him to boost your popularity amidst rumors they were looking to send you packing back to Australia?” another yells out. Bart doesn’t hesitate.
“There is no truth behind those rumors. Mr. Sage’s position with the team was never in question, and if you think we hire our players based on their social media following, you’re not giving much credit to the recruiters I pay tens of thousands of dollars to each year.”
Ian raises his hand, and I nod for him to go ahead.
“Congratulations on another home run,” he says, and I feel the smile spread across my face.
“Thanks.”
“You’ve always been known for your trick catches, but now with two home runs already this season, have you been doing anything different that’s brought on this newfound talent?” Fuck, I love Ian.
“You know how when you are a kid and you’re playing sport, or you are in the school play or you’re in a spelling bee or something, and you look out at the crowd and you see your mother, or your father, or even your favorite person out there watching you, cheering for you and you get this rush of extra energy or focus or… I don’t know, power. It’s like their faith in you gives you something extra and you make it the best performance you’ve ever given because they are watching and they have that belief in you that you can do it. That’s what Lion is for me. You think him being a fan is creepy, but who wouldn’t want to be with a person who thinks they are the most amazing person in the world?”
“I know I want that,” Ian replies, and another reporter raises their hand. Bart gives them the go-ahead.
“So Mr. Matherson started out as a Tim fanatic and is now your what… boyfriend?”
“I wouldn’t say he was a fanatic, but he was a fan, and though we haven’t put labels on what we are yet, I hope he’s open to that one.”
A few people chuckle.
“Look,” I say, grabbing the mic from the stand and leaning back in the chair. “Okay, now we’ve covered this in a few ways. Lion isn’t a stalker, end of story. Are you ready to invite the rest of the team in to talk about our amazing win over Animal Control and the three home runs in this game, because I am sure Ryan is dying to tell you all about how that felt for him?”
“Good idea,” Bart says, gesturing to Enzo at the door. He opens it up and a few of the players come out, Ryan and Duckie first.
“Ryan,” Ian begins the second they sit. “We were sure you were going to settle for a triple, what made you decide to go for the home run?”
“It was clear that they thought that, too. Gordon turned away from me when he caught the ball, and I just knew it was worth the risk.”
“You nearly didn’t make it, though.”
“I know. Harry was quick to call for the ball, but it went wide, and he had to stretch to catch it, letting me slide in there for the point.”
“Hitting two in one game, that has you up there with some of the greats of baseball, ever think about trying out for MLB?” another reporter asks, and Ryan laughs.
“The second one was a total fluke. I have no idea how it happened or how to recreate it, so if that’s what you’re hoping to see from me every game moving forward, you’re going to be disappointed.”
“And MLB?”
“They can come knocking but I’m already playing for the best league there is. I don’t see my future anywhere but right here.”
The reporters ask a bunch more questions, none of them bringing up Lion again, and I really hope this is the end of their run with that story. Now fingers crossed the Banana-Ramas take their lead. I have a horrible feeling they are going to be harder to convince.
***
“You were amazing,” Lion says, wrapping his arms around me when I find him waiting in the locker room for us.
“Did you like the celebration dance?” I ask, and he releases me.
“It was great. There are so many cool Aussie songs. What was hanging off the hats, though?”
“Those were corks. They help keep the flies away when you’re out bush.”
Ryan wraps us both in his arms. “Dude, you are like the home run whisperer,” he says, and I laugh.
“He totally is, right?”
“I still can’t believe I got two in one game. I can retire happily now.”
“You’re not retiring, are you?” Lion asks, and Ryan shakes his head.
“Not for a really long time, but when I do, I’ll go happy, thanks to you.”
“You’re the one who hit them.”
“Still, your confidence helped, so thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“How are we celebrating?” Ryan asks, releasing us and addressing the room.
People throw out suggestions for the pub and a few restaurants downtown.
“I’ve actually got a bit of a headache,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck. Lion’s hand immediately moves to my shoulders, massaging them gently.
“I can walk you home if you like,” he says, and I lean in close while the rest of the team decide on their plans.
“I don’t really have a headache. I just don’t want to have to wait to take all your clothes off and have my way with you,” I whisper in his ear, and his grip on my shoulders tightens. “Can you order us a ride while I have a quick shower?”
“Okay. Whatever you want, boss.”
A shudder runs through me.
“I can shower at your place.”