Page 53 of Totally Fanatic

“They were worried about you and asking a lot of questions about us.”

“But you’re okay?”

“Yes. I’m fine.”

“Mr. Matherson, thank you for coming,” Bart says.

“Sure, anything for Tim,” he replies, sitting on the couch, and I sit right beside him, our joined hands resting on his thigh.

“We were just going through the options,” Enzo says, holding out his hand and leaning forward. “I’m Enzo, the PR manager for the League.”

Lion shakes his hand.

“I assume you recognize Mr. Erricson,” he adds, glancing toward him.

“Yes, nice to meet you, too,” Lion says, resting back against the couch with me. “Tim told me you wanted to talk to him about this mess online, and I was kind of thinking I might have a solution,” he says, and Enzo looks at Bart like he needs his permission or something to listen.

“What was your idea?” I ask Lion, turning a little in my seat to give him my full attention.

“I thought I could talk to the Banana-Ramas, like on the field, over the speakers, or out the front of the stadium, or even a media thing. I could do that, and I could explain what happened. I could make them see they have it all wrong.”

“That is…” Enzo begins, glancing over at Bart again.

“That is sort of what we were already thinking,” I say, giving his hand a soft squeeze. “We were thinking we should hold a press conference.”

“That’s not exactly what we advised,” Bart says, and Enzo cuts in.

“We suggested a press conference as an option, but…”

“It’s a good idea, right? Then they can see that I didn’t stalk Tim, we met, and we became friends, and then we became… more than friends. We are more than friends, right? I mean, we didn’t talk about exactly what we are, but we are, right?”

His whole upper body turns toward me, and he places his other hand over mine, fully encasing my hand in his grasp.

“We are so much more than friends,” I tell him, and his face lights up in a giant smile, and he turns back to rest against the couch.

“Then we hold a press thing, and we tell them about us,” he says, and Enzo stands, closing the binder and placing it on the table between us. I really want to know what’s in the binder. Is it all the stories, all the posts, is it every photo? What secrets hide inside that black plastic folio?

“I think you’re right, but Lion, I am worried that if they see both of you up there, they might think that Tim isn’t speaking his truth,” Enzo starts, and Lion is frowning now, his grip on my hand tightening a little.

“What do you mean?” Lion asks.

“Well, they are claiming you manipulated him, tricked him. If they see you up there with him, they might try to say that you made him say everything.”

“But I’m not making him do anything.”

“We know that. Tim explained everything, and we have had our people look into the claims. But just to be sure that it goes over the way you want, we think it would be best if only Tim speaks to the press.”

“I mean, sure, if that is what will help Tim. Okay.”

He’s so trusting. I know they don’t want Lion to talk in case he says something that makes it worse, but even I could do that. Having him there would help me. But I guess people could think he was coercing me if he’s there, too.

“Okay. When will we do it?” I ask.

“After the game today,” Enzo says. “Assuming you’re still playing.”

“Why wouldn’t Tim play?” Lion asks, his worried stare back to me. “Are you okay? Did you get hurt during warm-up?” His eyes trail over my body like he’s got x-ray vision and is scanning for injuries.

“I’m fine. Coach just offered to give me the game off if I didn’t feel up to it with all this media drama.”

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