The Hitting Zone chapter 49 out of shape | English Novels Online

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The Hitting Zone
Chapter 49 Out Of Shape
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Chapter 49 Out Of Shape

It took me fifteen minutes for each mile. A whole half hour of running at a pathetically slow pace. I didn't even make it back to the dugout. As soon as we got in through the fence, I fell to the ground, and sprawled out, trying to catch my breath.

"Jake? You still alive?" Noah looked over me. "You're like really red right now. Should I go get the trainer?"

Trainer? Like someone who gets other people into shape? I could use that another day, maybe. Right now I just want to rest. I closed my eyes.

"What's wrong?" I heard Zeke asked. He must have came over once he saw me collapse to the ground.

"Is he playing dead?" Kyle suggested.

"He probably is dead." Dave retorted. "This is his first varsity practice. Don't you remember those days?"

"I'm telling mom." Noah declared. "You pushed him too hard and now look. I told you, you shouldn't have made us run ten laps."

"Relax." Mr. Millers voice joined the fray. "The kid is just tired and out of shape. He's never played in a game, so he's probably never been on a team or done a real practice before. Try to do three hours of hitting, running, and fielding for your first official practice. It won't be easy."

I opened my eyes and found the lot of them standing around me. I pointed at Mr. Miller.

The grumpy man nodded at my response. "See. I'm right." He grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet. "Don't lay on the grass after running like that. Put your hands on your head to open up your lungs."

I did as I was told.

"That'll be it for you today." Mr. Miller stated. "I'll tell Wilcox. This week we'll work on you getting into shape, and focus on your synergy with the little Atkins. Your batting doesn't look like it needs adjusting so we can leave it be. You won't participate in hitting practice." He nodded at his own plans, then walked back to the head coach who was speaking with the team.

"We'll go home early today." Zeke said out of nowhere. The three other brothers stated at him in shock. He cleared his throat. "Go grab your stuff. Meet at the car. I'll tell coach." He followed Mr. Miller's footsteps and left just as suddenly.

Dave and Kyle looked at one another, then at me. "Wow. Who knew you would be so handy, Jake?" Dave was the first to say something. "Losing that bet doesn't feel so bad right now."

"That's right! You owe ten laps." Noah smirked. "And Kyle will have to give up his sweets during lunch for the week. AND Zeke will give us his for the month." Noah smiled happily. "And we're going home early. And mom and dad will probably take us out to celebrate. This is the best Monday I've ever had in my life."

"Do you think they'll really take us out to eat?" Kyle smiled at the thought.

"They did when we each made varsity." Noah reasoned. "They'll want to do it for Jake too." He waved his hand. "C'mon Jake, lets pack it up. We'll do a whole day of practice tomorrow. Tonight we'll celebrate. Oh, and I can pull up some of the greatest double-play-duos in the history of the MLB."

I nodded eagerly and followed.

"He's just like a dog." I heard Dave say to Kyle.

"More like a puppy." Kyle replied. "Noah calls to him and he follows."

"Noah never followed us like that when we called him. What a non-cute little brother."

Noah waited until we were far enough before saying, "The only times they asked me to follow them along was so that they could torture me. Tickle torture. I would pee my pants and it traumatized me." I nodded. I've seen them in action. Although Noah didn't pee his pants last night, it didn't look like fun. "But for the record, I don't think of you as my puppy or dog. Just my younger brother. I've gotta do my best to protect you from the other three." He declared and started to pack up our gear.

Noah didn't notice how his words affect me. I felt really touched at the thought of having a brother that wanted to protect me. Even though we haven't known each other for a whole week, he felt more like a brother than the one I had.

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The Hitting Zone

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