Page 23 of Totally Fanatic

DUCKIE: Are you okay? Are you home safe?

TIM: I’ve been big enough to walk myself home since I was ten.

DUCKIE: That Lion guy is heaps bigger than you.

PAT: What guy is this now?

RYAN: Did you go out with Lion? He seems sweet.

DUCKIE: Don’t encourage this. He’s a fan, a super fan. President of the Tim Sage fan club kind of fan.

TIM: He’s also ripped and super sweet, too.

I’d always assumed guys that look like Lion would be scary, rough, even grumpy, but he’s always so happy, and he’s sweet, and he believes in me more than I believe in myself.

RYAN: Dating a fan can get tricky. Not even just for you, but for them, too. Just make sure he knows what he’s getting himself into.

DUCKIE: I think he knows what he wants to get into.

PAT: Okay, I’m out. You do you. Or do him. I don’t care. Just be at practice on time.

RYAN: I think what Duckie means to say is that we want you to be happy but just be careful.

TIM: I think I might actually like him.

DUCKIE: Misery.

TIM: Fuck off. So, what if he’s a little too into my stats? We like the same foods, clearly the same sport, he drops me soup when I’m sick and loves what I did to the rooftop space.

DUCKIE: How does he know what you did to your rooftop?

Shit.

DUCKIE: And when did he bring you soup? You were sick weeks ago. You didn’t know him then. Did he bring you soup before you knew him? How did he know where to take soup?

TIM: Okay, settle down. He’s not a psycho fanatic, he’s just a sweet guy who happened to see me climbing out my window on one of our game nights, so when he heard I was sick, he counted the floors and dropped off soup for me.

Probably shouldn’t have mentioned that part. Typing it out, it does sound a little stalkerish, but he really isn’t like that. Lion loves Banana Ball. And he can recall so many things about past games, not just my stats either. He knew all about Duckie, too. I remember seeing posts from Kittyball100 from the moment we joined the league. I think he’s followed the tour since it started. His posts and comments always made me feel amazing. Is it so terrible that I want to feel that way more? I’m not saying I’ll go jump his bones or whatever, but we could be friends. I’m sure if the guys got to know him better, they would see how sweet he is. He’s not a stalker.

DUCKIE: Read your last message out loud and tell me you don’t see it?

TIM: I don’t see it. Look, it isn’t like we’re dating. He brought me soup, and we grabbed a bite to eat once.

Okay, the soup thing was technically twice, but he doesn’t need to know that.

DUCKIE: If your head ends up in a cooler, don’t come crying to me.

TIM: No promises, I still owe you for all the ducks. I’m at seventy-four. I will find them all you know.

DUCKIE: Good luck with that.

He follows up the final message with a GIF of Kathy Bates swinging a sledgehammer. Wow, that movie really was graphic. You see his ankle go totally sideways and all.

He isn’t right. Lion isn’t a stalker. He just wants to video my game plays and post messages of me online, and… okay, enough. It isn’t like that. I can’t let Duckie get in my head.

I open up my socials. Normally, I don’t go anywhere near direct messages. It’s one of the emotional regulation tools Dr Hamlyn and I worked out. It’s full of messages from the Banana-Ramas, immediately identifiable by the banana heart-shape border around their profile pics. I’m sure that some of their messages will be sweet or well-intentioned, but it’s the other ones I’m avoiding. But I don’t have a choice right now because I need a way to contact Lion, and I forgot to grab his phone number tonight.

I don’t have to scroll far. He sent me a message only a few minutes ago. I open it up, and there’s a video file and the still shot tells me it’s a Banana Ball game. I can see Ryan pitching, and I think it’s Harrison stepping up to bat. I click on the link, and it starts to play. As soon as the video pans, I know what game it is. It was round seven last year. Harrison clips the ball, and it zooms across the grass. The camera pans to me, and I cartwheel into the path of the ball, grabbing it as I turn over, and then I send it right to second base just before Harrison could get there, landing us the out.

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