Page 40 of Totally Fanatic

“Why does that not make me feel any better?”

“I’m a baseball player, not a therapist. Come on, I’ll meet you out there.”

I laugh and put the lion duckie on the shelf of my locker beside my phone. I broke my rule of not scrolling unless I was eating, and now I’m paying for it. Now, I’m in my own head about Lion’s motives when all he’s done is try to support me, encourage me and make me see that I am good at this. Great even. Duckie is right, there has to be an explanation. I’ll find out after the game. It will be something silly, and then we canlaugh about it, right before I own that perfect ass of his. Yep. Everything is going to be fine.

***

It takes me a while to find Lion in the crowd. Animal Control is hitting first, and I’m all the way over in right field. I’m about as far from Lion as I can get. He’s closer to the box, though, so when I’m up to bat, he’ll be right there to watch me. To cheer me on. It was his cheers that gave me the fire to hit that home run the other week. Maybe I can do it again. For him.

Phillip hits it, a high fly ball to right field. I’m right under it, and it’s the perfect ball for a trick catch. The crowd loved my backflip catch, so I toss my glove, and prepare to do it again, only this time, the ball lands right in my palm and I flip over, stretching my front leg out after I land to finish in a split. The crowd cheers, Ryan drops to his knees on the mound and bows to me like I’m some sort of king, and when I look over at where Lion is standing, he’s bouncing on his toes, like all the excitement inside of him is trying to bubble free as he cheers for us. For me.

Duckie rushes my way, and I climb to my feet in time to chest bump with him before throwing the ball back to Ryan.

“Killer catch, man,” he says, jogging backward. “Told you, nothing to worry about.”

“Thanks. I think you’re right.”

“I’m always right, just ask Ian.”

I would argue that Ian would never agree to that, but he’s already jogging back to left field and Arthur Green is stepping into the box.

I grab my glove and get ready in case it’s another fly ball my way, not that I’m worried. Lion is right. I am good at this. I’mgreat even. Animal Control can send out whoever they like to hit, it won’t matter, because tonight, we’re going to win.

***

It didn’t go as easily as I had hoped, and I didn’t hit a home run, but I did hit off Harry’s fast ball in the last inning where every run is a point. I made it to second base. Then Calvin did hit a home run right after bringing me over home plate, too, and winning us the game. Lion’s cheer was the only one I could hear when I crossed the plate.

I’m getting dressed to go and find him when Duckie and Ian walk into the locker room.

“Hey, can we talk?” Duckie asks.

“I was just about to head out, can it wait?”

“It actually can’t,” Ian replies, and he sits on the bench opposite me. A digital notepad rests on his lap. “We need to talk about Lion.”

“Oh, it’s fine. I’m taking Duckie’s advice and just going to ask him about the other profile. It will be something silly, I’m sure,” I say, popping my foot up on the bench to tie my laces.

“It’s not,” Duckie says, his voice holding a graveness that sends a rumble through my gut.

“What do you mean?”

He sits next to Ian. “It’s not silly. It’s worse than one additional profile. I’m sorry, dude. Before the game, I mentioned to Ian what you found, and he spent the whole game going through the social profiles that frequently comment on your account or that share videos and photos, and well, there are a lot of your friends on there that only post about you.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t mean anything except I have some dedicated fans, right?” Ian doesn’t meet my eye and the rumble in my stomach becomes a deep pit.

“Well, these profiles Ian found, they all sort of share photos and videos from the games, but they’re all also pretty similar shots, and from about the same angle. Oh, and they all kind of comment at once, like immediately one after the other on everything. Sit, we’ll show you.”

“I’m up to twenty-three accounts,” Ian says, finally meeting my eye.

“Huh?”

“Twenty-three profiles that I believe Lion has set up to… well, to stalk you.”

“He’s… wait, what?” I ask, finally letting myself sit as I try to process their words. They can’t have said twenty-three. Why would he make twenty-three profiles? What could he possibly have to gain from that? I don’t direct messages to anyone, so he can’t have wanted to try to catfish me or whatever they call it. Fuck. What the hell is going on?

Ian moves across to sit beside me and opens the screen of his digital pad.

“Do you recognize these profiles?” he asks, and I hate to admit it, but I do. I recognize all of them. I pull out my phone and go to Lion’s profile, Kittyball100. There’s a picture of me from tonight’s game already posted with a sweet caption,Winning games and hearts all over Savannah.I click the comments, and reading through, I see all twenty-three profiles on Ian’s list. There are a few others, too, but all of those are there. Liking the post, sharing, commenting, and answering each other. What the hell is this?

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