The Hitting Zone

Chapter 107 Game Three: San Marino 2

Dave stepped on the rubber and started his motion. On the very first pitch, the batter connected and sent it to the outfield. My heart started to pound. But my eyes were able to calmly watch Mahki catch it. I let out a sigh of relief.

"That wasn’t a strikeout at all." Noah muttered, but loud enough for the infield to hear.

Dave sent a glare his way, then faced batter number two. He came out swinging as well, fouling back the first few pitches. Dave tried to finish him off, looking for a strikeout, but the guy ended up smacking the ball down the first baseline, just out of Julian’s reach. Sean picked up the ball and immediately sent it to Julian at first, holding the player there.

"Jake!" Noah grabbed my attention as Julian threw the ball to Dave. "You forgot the three B’s. You didn’t move at all."

I shivered and peeks out to center field. Zeke clapped his hands twice which I found ominous. I quickly turned away from his and gave Noah a helpless shrug.

"Don’t worry. This time was no big deal. But you should have backed up that throw in case Julian missed it." Noah scooted over back to his spot. "One out!" He yelled out. "Plays at second and first!" He clapped with his glove. "Got your back Davey!"

The infield left out little laughs. Dave rolled his eyes and got back on the rubber, mumbling to himself, but not looking super upset. He let the first two batters connect, so I thought he would be nervous or afraid to pitch to the strike zone, but he showed no fear. His very next pitch was right down the middle.

This time the ball flew to dead center. Zeke jogged a few steps back and caught it. Then threw a bullet right to Noah’s chest. He quickly turned, ready to throw to first in case the runner had stepped off the bag. But he didn’t. Noah threw to Dave at the mound, and hollered. "Two outs! Dave’s letting the balls fly today!" Who heard, had laughed. Even I smiled.

Dave’s lips twitched but he turned away from us and faced Kelvin to get the next pitch sign. I think Noah might be in trouble when it’s time to go back to the dugout, but that could just be my opinion.

Batter number three followed number ones steps: he sent a nice and high fly ball to Mahki for three outs. We jogged to the dugout and got ready to go on the offensive.

As Noah and I were putting on our helmets and grabbing our bats, I saw Dave in the corner of my eye.

I quickly made space just as Dave put Noah in a headlock and tickled his rib cage. "You punk! Making fun of me out there, huh?!"

Noah laughed. "No, no. I was just stating the truth. It’s not my fault you let the team down and lost the perfect game already."

"Why you little-" Dave gave up the headlock and focused on just tickling him.

"Quit it." Zeke slapped him upside the head, knocking Dave’s hat to the ground. "Noah needs to start us off and you’re here just playing around."

Dave rubbed the spot where he got hit, and bent down to pick up his hat. "Give him laps!"

"Are you volunteering to take his and Jake’s laps??" Zeke towered over him, exerting dominance.

Dave inched away. "Nope. Nope. Uhh I actually gotta go talk to Kelvin about some signs. Ok. Bye." He weaved through the team and made his way to the other side of the dugout.

"Idiot." Noah mumbled as he straightened his uniform up.

Zeke’s glare went to him. "What are you still doing here? Get out there. If you don’t get on base that’s another two laps for the both of you."

We both bolted, scurrying away.

"What a tyrant." Noah mumbled as we both got out of the dugout. He stood outside the batters box and took some practice swings.

I nodded at the statement and got in the on deck circle. Zeke was too mean sometimes. We went from being punished by my mistakes, to now where Noah has to get on base. Add in the fact he gave me five laps for no reason yesterday after game two, and I can see me do nothing but run tomorrow after school.

Not that I didn’t have confidence in Noah at the plate, it’s just...he’s not as good as me. He couldn’t guarantee getting on base or even hitting the ball like I could. But I wouldn’t hold it against him. He didn’t hold my novice fielding against me even though I’ve been racking up the laps. Luckily Kyle took game one, and Zeke voided game two, otherwise we would spend all week running.

Noah swung at two nasty curves with insane trajectory. They looked to be high pitches, then would drop low in the strike zone. For the third pitch, Noah had decided to be patient and didn’t swing, which ended up being a bad decision since it wasn’t a curve this time. It was just a fastball in the upper part of the strike zone. He was called out on strikes.

Noah looked up in exasperation, but collected himself and walked himself back. He patted my shoulder and whispered, "Couldn’t distinguish the curve from the fastball." Then he went back to the dugout.

"That’s two laps for each of you." I heard Zeke tell him.

I started to walk to the plate when I heard Noah shout, "Double or nothing!"

My eye twitched. Damn. Does he really need to add extra pressure to me? I looked back at the dugout to see what Zeke would do. He brushed off Noah and sent him away.

He faced me and rubbed his nose for me to see. He wanted me to foul. Probably wants me to tire out this pitcher with the good curve. I could do that.

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