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Chapter 326 Game: @ Quincy High School 4
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Chapter 326 Game: @ Quincy High School 4

The second inning started with Sean at the plate, Chris on deck, and Tony in the hole. As they moved around to grab their gear and go, I settled into my seat and put the sweatshirt across my lap for a little extra warmth. All the excitement of the inning distracted me from the cold, but after the adrenaline dies down and there's not anything to do, the cold was creeping back in.

"How ya feeling, Jake?" Drew stopped before me.

"Not sick." I told him. Unlike last time, I wasn't very dizzy or nauseous. "I think I'm doing okay."

"More than okay!" Noah tacked on. "Didn't you see my boy here score our only run, and be moving all over the field??"

Drew chuckled. "Yes, he's playing quite well today. Keep it up." He nodded towards the far end of the dugout. "I'll be over with Julian, if you need me."

"How is Julian?" Noah blurted, holding Drew in place.

Drew lost the smile, but it wasn't like he had a sour expression. He was just neutral. "He's recovering. Maybe he'll be ready to practice soon and be available for Tuesday's game."

"Not Saturday's?" Noah asked. "I would have thought that he would heal faster since his injury wasn't as bad as Jason's."

Drew's lips thinned. "Everyone heals differently. Some slow. Some fast. Genetics is a funny thing." He nodded. "It's no cause for concern. Better to be safe than sorry." He waved and walked away.

Sean struck out, causing Noah to put on his helmet and move to the entrance of the dugout. He shared some words with his teammates along the way.

I was still hung up on what Drew had said. 'Genetics is a funny thing.' I wonder what he meant by that? Obviously it wasn't a ha-ha funny...maybe he meant it was peculiar..? How much of genetics, decides who you really are? I thought about Biology and we learned the nature vs nurture theory. Was who I am already decided upon being born? Or was it how I was raised? I started to get lost in my thoughts, but a figure had stopped in front of me.

"Are you thinking about the throw?" Zeke asked, looking down at me.

I had to look up to make eye contact. "No."

"You looked like you were concentrating hard on something." He pressed.

I shook my head, not only to deny but to hopefully shake the thoughts loose. "It was nothing." I redirected. "Did you think my throw was bad?"

Zeke stayed expressionless. "No. It was good, for you."

There it was again. The 'for you.' I frowned. "Noah said the same thing."

Zeke sat beside me. "Does it bother you?"

"A little. I think." I clicked my feet together, looking down. "It just sounds off. Like an insult masked as a compliment."

"It depends who it comes from and how you feel about it." Zeke told me clearly. "With us, you can just treat it as a statement of fact. Maybe a half compliment. We know where you come from, and how you were hurt before. It's understandable that the strength isn't there yet. But, there's been improvements."

I looked up at him again. "You really think so?"

"I know so." Zeke told me confidently without changing his facial expression. He looked cool and steady as if he only spoke the truth and nothing but the truth. "Just a month ago, you didn't even know how to slide. Now you can slide and score a run. Not bad at all."

I grimaced at the thought of my earlier slide. "Yea, but Noah and Drew said it was pretty ugly."

He stood up. "You don't score extra runs for style points. It only matters how it looks on the scoreboard." He nodded before walking over to Coach.

Makes sense. Why care how it looks when it only matters that I scored. A run is still a run. It's one to one, so it's not like my ugly slide was worth any less than the perfect one by the other team.

Chris grounded out to third base.

I stood up and switched my hat for a helmet, then grabbed my bat and walked to the on hole spot. Noah moved to the on deck circle and Tony stepped up to bat. He also struck out, making it a quiet inning for us. I went back to my hat and glove, then we took the field for the bottom of the second inning.

Garret and Jordan had a brief discussion at the mound before facing the bottom of the lineup. Batter seven grounded out to Noah at short; batter eight struck out, and batter nine had hit a grounder to me, which I was able to field cleanly. They got us to go three up, three down and we got to do so as well. It felt good, knowing that Garret wasn't as wild or wasteful like before. Clearly he was focused on aiming for the strike zone a bit more.

Top of the third brought the top of our lineup. Noah and I were eager to grab our helmets and bats. Noah, because he wanted to help win the game. And me, just because I like hitting more than anything. I could probably do without baseball as long as I could still go to the cages.

Noah looked better at the plate compared to the first innings strikeout, but he still couldn't get on base. He made connection and sent a ground ball right to their shortstop. I could hear him mutter a curse as he walked right by me to go back to the dugout. I really had to find a way to cheer him up, but I just didn't know what. Maybe I could go to Mr. Atkins for help.

I moved to the batter's box on the left side. I took a practice swing before getting in and getting set. The pitcher was leaning forward on the mound to get a better view of the catcher's sign. He nodded, got set as well, then started his motion.

Ball. Ball. Strike. Foul. Ball. Foul. Foul. On the eighth pitch, a high fastball came down the center and looked too good to pass up. I swung and sent a line drive to center. Right to center. The center fielder hardly had to move to make the catch. I sighed and jogged back to the dugout with my bat.

Garret wasn't any better than us at the plate. He sent a high fly ball to left for the third out.

We switched to defense, where Garret was back to dominating. He got the first batter to strikeout swinging on three pitches. And that was the leadoff!

The second batter came up. He was the bunter in the first inning, which was understandable with runners on, but this time he showed bunt again. Right from the start.

Jordan, who was squatting behind home plate, brushed his hand across his chest and patted his knee. Then he gave Garret some pitching signs.

I froze. What was that? I peeked over at Noah for help, but he was solely focused on the batter as well. What to do, what to do. I looked to my left to see what Sean was doing. He looked normal too, just focused on the batter. Oh man. Maybe I'm just overthinking it.

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The Hitting Zone

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