199 A Bad Omen (1/2)

Mr. Atkins knew exactly where to go and led us with confidence. The twins followed right behind him, then me and Noah, then Mrs. Atkins and Zeke.

”You really shouldn't give your father such a hard time, Zeke. He's just looking out for you.” Mrs. Atkins spoke to Zeke in a light, but serious tone. ”Injuries aren't something you can just brush off, especially if you want to play at the next level.”

”I know, Mom.” Zeke replied.

”If you know, then why did you argue? Now I've gotta get checked too.” Noah grumbled.

”It's probably best if you get checked too, no matter what.” Mrs. Atkins said from behind. ”Getting injured while you're still young and growing can affect your growth in a negative way.”

”Like me.”

No one said anything.

I kept my eyes on my feet. ”You shouldn't hide injuries or they'll only get worse.”

Noah practically jumped on me and pulled my into a hug. ”My poor baby brother. Forever going to five feet tall.”

His joke brought a laugh out of me as I pushed him away. ”I'll grow soon! I'm all better now.” I peeked back at Zeke. ”It doesn't hurt just to make sure you're okay.”

Zeke clenched his jaw.

I don't think that's a good sign. He's very against getting checked out so there must be something seriously wrong and he knows it. I sighed and glanced at Noah. He was still jumping about and was moving as freely as ever. He didn't look like he was hiding any kind of pain. Then again, I couldn't tell Zeke was hurting until Noah said something and I didn't really believe it until Mr. Atkins said something.

Mr. Atkins stopped in front of the informational booth to speak with someone in charge. That person, in turn, led the seven us to some chairs and table in the back where it was a bit more private.

The person faced us as he patted the table. ”Hop up here if you were the one that got hit by a pitch. Everyone else can just take a step back so I can have some space to examine the player.”

The adults, the twins, and myself all took a few steps back, making it clear who the patients were. Zeke and Noah stared at one another, before Noah caved. He dropped his bag on the ground and got up on the table.

”And where were you hit?” The man asked as he got a little closer to Noah.

”Just above the left knee, on the quad.” Noah patted the body part in question.

”Ok, sit up straight and let your legs hang over the table edge so they can dangle there.” The man instructed. After Noah got in the directed position, the man took hold of his left foot and start to wiggle it. ”Any pain?” Noah shook his head. The man then extended the leg, then bent it at the knee, then extended it, and then bent it. ”Any knee trouble?”

”Nope. No radiating pain at all.” Noah answered.

The man nodded, but kept moving Noah's leg around like he was trying to catch him in a lie. He had Noah lie down, move his leg around, then stand up and move his leg around. By the time he confirmed that it was just a bruise, I was yawning, wishing I could take a nap.

The man brought out a bag of ice, put it on the bruised area, and taped it over his pants. ”You can take that off in twenty minutes. It might be uncomfortable now, but your bruise won't hurt tomorrow during the game.”

”Thanks!” Noah hopped off the table and wobbled over to me. ”For a tournament trainer, he's very thorough.” He stated.

I nodded in agreement and then we watched as it was Zeke's turn. Zeke had set his bag down and started to get on the table, but the trainer held him back.