Chapter 667 V2 ch139
No one spoke even though Rhys gave them the chance. I awkwardly stood beside him, waiting to be besieged with questions about Jeremy, but no one asked anything.
"Guys..." Rhys let out a small chuckle. "Either ask something or we'll go inside. We can't just spend the afternoon out here."
"Okay, okay." Nic spoke up first. He looked down at me. "Did Jeremy teach you how to bat?"
I shook my head. "No."
"Then how did you get to be so good?"
I shrugged. "Practice?" Seeing their disbelieving looks, I elaborated. "I spent a lot of time in batting cages. I was...unable to play with my middle school team. But they had cages. I'd go every day."
"So you weren't this good when you were playing in little league?" The tall guy asked.
I glanced away, slightly embarrassed. "I didn't play in little league."
"Wait." One of them stepped forward. "Let me get this straight. You didn't play little league or in middle school? When was the first time you played with a team?"
"This last spring." Rhys answered for me. "So forgive him for any errors he may commit when you're on the mound. Jake is just a rookie."
I turned red from embarrassment. I can't believe Rhys would say that. Now they're going to hate me playing behind them.
"Who cares about that?"
"I wouldn't mind having a crappy infielder as long as he could hit bombs."
"He's not the worst infielder I've ever seen."
...were these supposed to be words of comfort?
Rhys laughed and gave me a pat on the shoulder. "Pitchers are easy to get along with when you can score runs, Jake."
Nic shrugged. "For camps like these, it's better to get strikeouts. I couldn't care less about your fielding percentage. That's going to be all on you." He paused. "That being said, if I ever go up against you, please show mercy."
The guys all started to laugh.
I nodded with some seriousness.
"But seriously," Someone said. "What's it like having a brother like Jeremy? Does it inspire you to see him in the majors already?"
I tugged on my ear. What's it like? I don't know. Awkward? Stiff? Sometimes warm? But it stings too. I frowned. "I guess..." I looked around. "We're not super close, but I don't hate him."
"Could you possibly hate the former Rookie of the Year?!" One of them exclaimed.
"Stars always get a lot of hate." One of them replied.
Rhys clapped his hands. "Alright. Let's head in and get a workout done. You'll be able to see Jake for the next few days if you have anymore questions."
"Wait. One more question!" A pitcher raised his hand. "Are we supposed to keep this a secret or can we tell others?"
Rhys looked to me.
I shrugged. "It's whatever. You guys aren't the first to find out." And probably won't be the last. It's not like I can silence everyone, or stop others from looking it up.
Rhys took us inside after the short chat and all our attention was on following him. We put our bags to the side and went through another small warmup. Rhys didn't lift any crazy amount to stun us, but was more about demonstrating on how to lift effectively. He showed us how to use each machine and gave us a circuit to follow. He also didn't limit us to just arms. He included abs and legs, even giving a small speech about how leg strength is super beneficial to pitchers.
Throughout our time in the gym, more pitchers from the team showed up and Rhys would leave us on our own to go get them started. We spent the rest of the afternoon there, and Rhys had told us that we didn't need to go back to the cages.
When we were excused to go to dinner, I stuck with Rhys like normal, but this time we had a few extras tagging along. The other pitchers. I've gotten to know them all by name now: Nic, Gavin, Derek, and Zedrick. There were a few more pitchers that followed along, but they had joined us late so I didn't get their names.
"So you guys knew each other before the camp?" Derek commented, looking at me and Rhys. "I just thought Coach Rhys was playing favorites!"
"Of course I am!" Rhys laughed. "Jake is my favorite. Without question. I've only known him for a few months, but I've been friends with the Atkins since way back."
"Who would win between you and Zeke Atkins then?" Gavin asked.
Rhys grinned. "Me, obviously. I've struck him out before."
"Yea, after giving up a hit." I laughed.
Rhys pulled me into a loose headlock. "Why you! I think you've been spending too much time with Noah lately! I even said you were my favorite."
We reached the cafeteria and came across some other players.
One of which, was Noah himself. Noah sprinted over in mere seconds. "Rhys! Let go! I'm going to tell Zeke that you're picking on Jake!"
Rhys let me go and straightened up. "He was picking on me first!"
I laughed and moved to the other side of Noah so Rhys couldn't get me. "You lied and said you could beat Zeke."
"It's a tie!" Noah hollered for everyone to hear. "One hit versus one strikeout." He smirked. "Want to do a tiebreaker for everyone to see?"
Rhys rolled his eyes. "I'm busy." He took the lead and went inside the cafeteria first. "I'll settle the score with you two later."
Noah looked me over and smiled. "Guess what?! We won our first game!"
I smiled, happy for him. "Wow. Great." Against a few of the guys we know. I paused. "Are the others upset?"
"Not in the way that you're thinking." Noah grinned. He glanced at the taller guys hanging around us still. "Are these your teammates?"
I nodded and gave them all a brief introduction, mentioning that they were all pitchers.
Noah gave me a strange look as we split from my teammates and lined up for food. "Why are you with the pitchers? Weren't you going to the cages? Did Rhys not let you bat?" He was slowly getting upset all on his own.
I shook my head and explained what had happened during my afternoon practice. How Rhys thought about leaving me on my own, but ended up changing his original plans in order to be there for me. Then how Coach Nate let me bat until I ran out of balls.
Noah sighed with relief. "Alright. Not bad." He glanced at me. "Is anyone being mean to you?"
I shook my head. No one was outright mean to me. I just felt a little shunned from the others. But spending time with the pitchers assured me that not everyone was jealous of my playing time. Pitchers only cared about their own numbers.
Sitting down at a long table, it started to fill up with the usuals: Ansar, Cody, Landon, Dylan, Travis, and Adam. With six of them just having played a game against one another, there were three winners and three losers. Noah told me that he and his team won, but it was only when the others joined that I found out they had won off an outfielder error. Brutal.
All of them at least got a hit though, and were mostly satisfied about showing off their skill. Apparently quite a few scouts were watching this afternoon even though they weren't playing in the stadium.
Noah nudged me at one point. "They'll probably watch your night game. Be sure to showoff."
"They probably don't even watch Jake specifically anymore." Ansar said between bites of his dinner. "They probably watch all the pitchers that go up against him to see if there's one that can strike him out."
"Nearly impossible." Noah waved his hand. "Jake rarely strikes out unless-" He abruptly stopped and pursed his lips together.
"Unless what?" Cody asked.
Noah revealed a small grin. "I can't tell you. What if you all tell everyone? Besides, it's not something you see every day. He still hits into groundouts and fly outs so it's not like it's impossible to get him out. Just very unlikely to see a strikeout."
I thought back to my strikeouts, trying to recall anything specific. Then I had an urge to laugh and cry and the same time. The only strikeouts I could remember were due to my own stupidity and insecurities. None of which were official. Noah was right to say that I'm more likely to get out from putting the ball into play.
We spent the rest of dinner fueling up for the evening practices and games, and then used our hour of downtime relaxing in Cody's dorm room. Occasionally someone would ask something about Jeremy or the A's, but Noah answered more than I did. Not to protect me or whatever, but because they were asking questions about the game itself.