The Hitting Zone

Chapter 130 Monday Morning 3

"Let’s focus on the trigger first." Dr. Moore suggested. "What did you see? What did you hear? Smell? Touch? Taste? The five senses can tell you a lot."

I pursed my lips with hesitation.

Noah gave me a nod. "Don’t hold back."

"I heard Mrs. Atkins." I slowly started. "She said, ’that’s my son’ in regards to Zeke’s hit."

"And why do you think that upset you?" Dr. Moore questioned.

"She-She-she sounded...proud." I stuttered, trying not to choke up. I closed my eyes to try and stop the tears. "No one will say that about me."

The room got quiet. I could only hear their breathing. No laughter from Noah. No sighing from Mr. Atkins. No sounds of note-taking from Dr. Moore.

"Jake-" Noah started to speak, but was cutoff by Dr. Moore.

"How do you know someone won’t say that about you?"

I slowly opened my eyes and focused on him. "Because I’m not anyone’s son. My mother use to say ’my boy’ but with negative connotations. With undertones of disgust, hate, and indifference. My dad already left. I wasn’t enough of ’his son’ to even keep, let alone be proud of."

"What makes you think that only birth parents have the right to call you ’my son’?" Mr. Atkins spoke up. "Is it not the same, if I call you my son? I’m a foster parent, you’re a foster son; so why can’t you be my son?"

My jaw dropped and I felt my face heat up with embarrassment. I didn’t know what to say.

"Yea Dad!" Noah put an arm around my shoulder and tugged me in. "Tell him! I already tell people that we’re brothers so why can’t Mom and Dad call you their son? Will it bug you? Will it make you angry? C’mon. Use your words. Let’s hear it."

Unsure, I looked at Dr. Moore for help. This is obviously not how a psych appointment should go, right? He just sat there, pen in hand, ready to record whatever I might say. I turned my attention to my shoes and studied the carpet. "I wouldn’t be bugged by it. I just don’t want you guys to do it because you feel like you have to."

I felt Mr. Atkins get up and soon his shoes faced mine. Then they disappeared as he got on his knees. I looked up and we were eye level.

"Jake. You’ve got to understand, we don’t do anything because we have to. It’s because we want to. We wanted to become foster parents. We wanted to take kids in and help them get a new start. We wanted you. So believe me when I say this: I’m proud of you, son. You did well this weekend. Not just on the field, but off it too. You didn’t hide away from your teammates or coaches, and you faced strangers head on. You’re a wonderful kid. You even taught Noah a lesson this past weekend that really got through to him and it’ll make him a better person. How can I not be proud of you?"

Tears rolled out of my eyes and down my cheeks. Mr. Atkins pulled me into a hug and just let me lean on his shoulder.

"Me too! Me too!" Noah threw his arms around us, unable to reach all around but was still able to squeeze us.

I just sat there in their embrace, unsure of what to do with my arms. It would be too awkward to bring them up now, yet I felt kind of rude just sitting there, accepting their hugs. Finally I cleared my throat and tried not to sniffle. "Thanks. Can I go blow my nose now?"

Noah and Mr. Atkins let go and started to laugh. Mr. Atkins stood all the way up and lightly patted me on the head. Noah got up and grabbed the tissues from Dr. Moore’s desk and handed them to me. I cleaned up my nose and wiped my eyes.

Even though I felt jealous of a family like the Atkins, it felt good to be included. And to know that there are more people like them out in the world.

Dr. Moore clapped his hands. "That was well done. You stated your problem clearly and accepted the solution. I can’t promise that you won’t feel the same in other situations, but it’s something you must face head on." He gave me a smile of assurance. "But never be afraid to face such feelings head on, because there will always be others to help."

I nodded. I wasn’t alone anymore. In fact, looking back, I wasn’t really alone before. I had friends in school, but I never reached out or asked for help. That’s my fault.

"Now let’s move on to a different topic that I wanted to bring up, if you don’t mind." Dr. Moore said.

I glanced at Noah and Mr. Atkins, not exactly sure of what else there could be. I only had one breakdown this weekend, I swear. Unfortunately, they looked as lost as I did.

"I’ve noticed that you’re being more verbal." Dr. Moore brought up. "I don’t know if it’s because you’re comfortable with Noah here or if it’s because you’re getting better."

"Oh. It’s both!" Noah answered for me, excited. "Jake really spoke a lot this weekend. We even had our first fight. He spoke to a teammate without my intervention. And he hardly hid behind me like usual. But of course, he speaks to me the most. It’s because we’re best bros!" He smiled brightly like my talking was all due to him. Which...it is...slightly.

"Good, good. That’s quite an improvement. But, I want more. I want you to get out of your shell and gain some self-confidence." Dr. Moore said. "Obviously, I can see some of your confidence links to Noah and baseball. But, you can’t always rely on outer stimulants for help. The self confidence should come from within and not from something external. Do you get what I’m saying?"

I scratched the back of my head lightly. "Kind of?"

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