Page 58 of Totally Fanatic

The door opens, and we all turn in our seats to find Bart striding in wearing his signature yellow suit and holding a megaphone.

“Sounds like everyone is having fun in here,” he says, and Enzo stands immediately.

“Mr. Erricson, sir. Umm, is everything okay?”

“Perfectly fine. I just thought it’s been a while since I watched the game from up here, and given we have our special guests, I figured why not let today break that streak.”

“Of course, I mean, it is your box. You can watch from here whenever you like. I was just… I should probably go check on…”

“You can’t go,” I say, pointing out the window. “Tim is about to bat, and he’s trying for a home run.”

“Ohh, yes, his last one was amazing,” Mary Beth says, leaning forward on her seat and peering out at the pitch.

“Yes, please stay, Enzo. They can call you if they need you,” Bart says.

“That’s what I told him. Oh, look, there he is. Wooo, go Tim!” I cheer. “I hope he can hear me from all the way up here.”

“Try this,” Bart says, handing me his megaphone.

“Are you sure?”

“Better make it quick if you want to be supportive and not distracting,” he laughs, and I grab the megaphone and hold it up to my mouth.

“Smack it out of the park, Tim. You got this!” I yell, and my voice carries over the crowd, and when Tim looks up our way smiling, I know he heard me.

Gordon isn’t pitching, it’s another pitcher I can’t quite remember the name of. He’s newer, younger, but also really good, too. Tim misses the ball on the first swing and the pitcher starts dancing, wriggling his ass as he turns in slow motion around in a circle. Come on, Tim. You got this. Show this newbie who’s boss.

The pitcher sends the ball, and Tim swings with everything he has. I’m on my feet, so are half the people below us, as the ball sails over the field.

“Go, go gooooo,” I will the ball to fly, and when it lands between the seats of two people in the stands, the deafening cheer erupts from the stadium.

I lift the microphone again.

“Wooo, another amazing home run by Tim Sage,” I call, and Tim pumps his fist in the air running around the diamond. When he crosses home plate, the music volume increases as Tim’s teammates rush the field, all wearing those Australian hats with things hanging off them. “Great Southern Land” starts to play, and Tim and his team perform his Aussie celebration song.

“Well, Mr. Matherson, if you can coax home runs out of a few more players, we might have our best tour yet.”

“I told Ryan to give it a go today. He doesn’t have the same incentive as Tim, but he’s got a bet going with Alan, so he’ll give it his best shot.”

“Incentive, hey,” Mary Beth says, nudging my side. “Do I want to know what Tim just won?”

I feel my face growing warm.

“Probably not.”

Chapter twenty-one

TIM

I was worried atfirst about Lion being up in the GM box for the game. I know Bart and Enzo said they were supporting us, but there was this tiny piece of me that worried they were up there trying to warn him away from me, telling him to leave me to make this all go away, and I know Lion would do anything for me. But when he called out using Bart’s megaphone, all that fear disappeared.

And then I hit another fucking home run. Like how? It’s all because of Lion. He would say it’s all me. And I get that I’m the one swinging the bat, but it’s his belief in me that really is the force behind it. His faith. Stepping into the media room with Bart and Enzo, it’s Lion’s turn to see how much faith I have in him. In us. In what we could be. Because I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. And I am not ready to let that feeling go. I don’t think I ever will be ready to.

The lights flash, and people call out too many questions all at once for me to make out any one of them clearly. Enzo and Will, the media manager, settle the crowd, and Bart and I sit.

“You will all get a chance to ask your questions, but first Tim has a statement he would like to make,” Bart says, and I grab the glass of water in front of me, drinking half of it down. I didn’t write anything, but the PR team did, and it sounded okay, but not like me at all. I don’t think they would mind if I Tim it up a bit.

My heart races, and my hands grow warm, my gaze moving through them, pens in hand, cameras on me, all of them waiting for me to tell them about Lion, about us. This is so fucked up that I even have to do this.

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