Page 71 of Totally Fanatic

“I got you a giant smoker,” I repeat, bouncing a little on my toes. It’s been so hard to keep this to myself since this afternoon. I wanted to call him right away, then I thought I would text him the photo, but this is better. Seeing his face lit up is better.

“Are you serious?”

“Totally. Mouse is driving it over to Mary Beth’s cafe in the morning. She said you can keep it out back as long as you like.”

“You really believe I’ll have the food truck, don’t you?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You set out to play professional baseball and you knocked that dream out of the park, literally, so why wouldn’t you do the same for the food truck?”

His lower lip quivers just slightly and his eyes start to gloss over. Shit. Did I fuck up?

“Umm, you don’t have to do it, though. I mean. I don’t want you to think I’m forcing you, I mean. Shit.”

He drops the container in his hands to the table and rushes toward me, leaping into my arms. He wraps his legs around my waist and buries his face in my neck.

“You are amazing,” he says, and I hold him tight.

“So, you like it?”

He leans back, perched on my waist, fingers linked behind my neck.

“I love it, and I love… that you got it for me.”

Chapter twenty-five

TIM

We’re one point downgoing into the ninth, the OG’s Seth Easton is standing on first base, Billy Ryder is on second. Ryan Tanner steps up to the bump and Leo Matzero sways his hips and gyrates his way into the box. He’s cocky as fuck, but Ryan is on fire tonight. We just need to keep an eye on the bases, so they don’t try to steal.

“Come onnnnn!” Duckie screams from left field. I glance over to where Lion is sitting with an older woman who must have bought his extra ticket. It’s nice not seeing him with random guys every game now that his sister has backed off setting him up. The woman’s wearing a Funky Monkey jersey, too, so at least they are going for the same side and have been cheering together all night.

The guy beside her is wearing a Banana-Ramas shirt and hat. I can tell from here. What I can’t tell, though, is why he keeps leaning forward and saying something to Lion. I can’t make out his words either. Screw past Tim for not learning to lipread. Whatever he’s saying can’t be good, though, because every timehe says something, Lion’s smile falters and the woman taps him on the leg in a reassuring kind of way. I really just wish people would leave him alone. Lion catches me watching him, and he claps his hands, smiling and calling out, “Wooo, go Tim!”

I send him a wave and the Banana-Rama guy shakes his head and folds his arms over his chest. Fuck, if I knew that was all it took, I would have done it back in the first inning. I’ll have to tell Enzo about this guy. Maybe he’s one of the ones they kicked out before. Maybe they can kick him out again.

Ryan sends his fast ball right into Dave’s glove for the second strike on Leo Matzero, one more and he’s out. Tonight’s game we’ve seen more strikeouts from both sides than either team would like. That’s what happens when everyone gets home run fever, they swing for everything and they swing hard. Not always accurately, though. We also had four foul ball outs tonight caught by fans and that makes it a new record. While we love seeing the fans getting super involved, it means we’ve also come into the ninth down two to one.

Ryan sends the ball again. It’s fast, but at ninety-seven, it’s not his fastest, and Leo Matzero gets his bat to it with a crack. The ball flies high, and I’m under it in a second, ready for an easy catch. Fly balls usually are. But then I don’t hear any of the umpires call the infield fly. Seth heads for second base. My eyes lock on John, our second baseman, and his eyes go wide. He has to know what I’m thinking. I shoot it right into his glove, and he taps Seth out, then sends the ball at lightning speed right over to Antoine Masser waiting at third base. He taps Billy just in time. It’s a double out. We’ve won the game. Double out in the ninth inning is an automatic win, and I have never loved that rule more than I do right now. The umpire calls out, the crowd cheers, and the whole team rush together.

Our celebration dances are always that much sweeter when we’ve beaten one of the OG teams, and we’ve had this onerehearsed for a while, hoping for just this occasion to use it. The speakers crackle as the volume grows louder, and Duckie runs over, tossing Ryan a mic and attaching a long blue cape around his neck just in time to sing the first line.

The song’s from the Eurovision movie, and when it reaches the Will Ferrell part, Calvin jogs out wearing a shiny silver puffy jacket. We take our places behind them, swishing our arms forward, to the left, to the right, then the chorus kicks in and we all sing and dance together in time.

“Double trouble,” I sing at the top of my lungs, and the crowd are on their feet dancing along to the music, too. Well, the ones happy we won are, anyway.

***

“That dance number was so good,” Lion says when I meet him outside the players’ entry after I’m showered and changed.

“We’ve had that one planned for over a year. We just never got a double in the ninth to be able to use it. I still feel like I’m a baby giraffe out there.”

He tilts his head a little to the left, brow creased in the adorable way it does when he’s trying to figure out what someone just said.

I try to explain. “You know, how, when giraffes are born, they get up on their feet right away, but they are clumsy and wobble about like they’re drunk.”

“Oh, no, you’re so much better now. I mean, you were always great, just now you… keep in time.”

I laugh and wrap my arm around his waist.

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