Page 39 of Totally Fanatic

I order a pizza and go back through my socials, replying to people’s comments on my photos of Tim or videos of his game play. Logging out of each profile and into the next to really boost them. Tim needs this. He needs to know that people love him. That the crowd loves him, that we believe in him. He’ll see all these messages of encouragement and he’ll have the confidence to play amazing tomorrow. I just know it. I log intoGettingBananad62, and heart every post before the delivery guy arrives with my pizza.

I devour half of it, then jump back on my phone. There are a heap of new people liking and commenting, too. But it could be even better. I grab the photo I sent to Tim earlier and share it again, with the caption “Athrowback to when Tim changed the game of Banana Ball, showing everyone the OG’s aren’t unbeatable.”

That has to make him see how amazing he is. It just has to.

Chapter fifteen

TIM

When I see thephoto, I’m sure it’s just someone else reposting one of Lion’s posts. He sent the same picture to me only yesterday. But it isn’t a share, it’s a new post from GettingBananad62, and the caption is almost exactly what Lion texted to me. There has to be an explanation. Maybe he saw this post before he messaged me, and that’s why he was thinking of that game. But he said he took the photo, didn’t he? Fuck. Could GettingBananad62 be Lion, too? But then that would mean he has two accounts, both following me, both posting about me and my game and my plays and my wins.

I have to talk to him. I have to know what’s going on, but the game starts soon and he’s on his way to the field, and I don’t think this is something I want to do via text.

“You okay?” Duckie asks, and I nod but don’t look up for more than a second from my phone. I’m scrolling through all of GettingBananad62‘s posts looking for more connections, more proof it’s Lion. Or proof it isn’t. I don’t even know which one Iam hoping to find. “I got you something,” he says, tossing a duck at me.

But as I turn it over in my hand, I see it isn’t just any duck. It’s a duck wearing a lion costume.

“I thought you could give it to Lion, as sort of a peace offering for me being a bit of a dick to him. You’re right. He seems sweet.”

“I think you might be right about Lion,” I say, the pit in my stomach growing deeper.

“Wait, what?”

I show him my phone screen. “He sent me this photo yesterday of a game from last year and now it’s online under another person’s handle, someone called GettingBananad62.”

“So, they re-shared it.”

“I don’t think they did. I think GettingBananad62 is Lion.”

“But he said he was Kittyball100, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, he did. How weird is it if this is him, too, though? Like, it’s weird, right? What you were saying about stalkers, it’s a stalker thing to do, have two profiles to post online with, isn’t it?”

“It depends. I mean, has he been trying to make friends with you under both?”

“Not friends, like, he always posts cool stuff, and I comment back, and we’re just normal online friends. The real Lion, the guy we met at the restaurant that night with his boss, the guy who came out to dinner, that’s who I’ve really been talking to. Been…” I don’t finish the rest because I don’t want to think about what it means if Lion isn’t the guy I thought he was.

“Talk to him about it. Ask him if it’s him and ask him why he has two profiles. I still have my old profile from when I was writing forUnlaced, not that I go on there much, but it’s still there. Maybe it’s sort of the same. Oh, I know, maybe he forgot his password for the Kitty one and so he created anotherone, then remembered the password for the old one again or something?”

“That does sound like Lion.”

“Look, we’re due out on the field in like two minutes. Put that away and focus on the game tonight. Lion will still be there when we kick Animal Control’s butt.”

“I don’t know how I am going to focus on anything but him now.”

“Just remember, he’s not wrong. You changed the game that night when you clipped that ball. I was in the press area watching, and the gasp that came from the dugout from the rest of those asshats was golden. You showed them and everyone watching what was possible.”

“It was still several games before we got a win in.”

“But only a few pitches before they got another hit and the first points against them. It was the beginning of the end for their streak.”

“You sound like Lion.”

“I meant what I said before. He’s sweet, a little clueless, but kind, and he does seem to really like you.”

“Like Misery like me?”

He shrugs. “Maybe, but hey, that guy did manage to finish the book, so she kind of was still good for him in the end.”

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