310 First Targe (1/2)
(Jake's POV)
Zeke drove Noah and I home, then sent us upstairs to get showers done before dinner. We took turns and gathered back downstairs where Zeke was already waiting. He was sitting in the living room, with the iPad in hand.
”Whatcha doing?” Noah asked, flopping on the couch. I sat down on the other end.
”Looking at search history to verify your story.” Zeke replied, nonchalant.
”It's not a story!” Noah leaned over and started pointing on the screen. ”Look! Here, here, and here. We watched quite a bit.”
Zeke looked at us. ”And did you practice it?”
”Theoretically.” Noah stated proudly.
Zeke's eyes narrowed.
Noah sat back, moving a little closer to me, kind of scared off by Zeke's look. ”Well, we were grounded so we didn't dare to go out. We did go through the motions in the backyard, but I'm not exactly a pitcher or first baseman. We can ask coach to look it over on Tuesday, during practice.”
”Or we can go through it tomorrow.” Zeke said. It was worded like a suggestion, yet sounded like a command.
Noah froze for a second but quickly recovered. ”No can do. We're already booked for tomorrow. Kyle has a date that he wants to go on, and mom said he had to bring us.”
Zeke stared us down.
Noah and I were both fidgeting under pressure. It wasn't until Noah came up with something to say to distract Zeke from taking over. ”So....OLU on Monday. Isn't that the team that you guys lost to last year? Once or twice?”
I blinked in surprise. They lost?
”Just once.” Zeke retracted his stare and went back to tapping on the iPad. ”But it was an important lost. It held us back from winning league and going to CIF.”
”But they didn't go to CIF.” Noah frowned. ”I thought Servite High did.”
Zeke nodded. ”But because of the lost to OLU, Servite had a better record than us. It was near the end of the season too so there wasn't much hope for Servite to lose to another school.” He let out a little sigh, making me feel bad. It's hard to believe that Zeke could ever lose a game. Our one lost this season came from University Prep, but Zeke didn't even play so I didn't count that against him.
”Why'd you lose again?” Noah poked. ”Was it bad pitching on our side? Or good pitching on their side?”
Zeke looked over at Noah. ”Garret had a poor outing. One of his few. We also weren't sharp at the plate. Lots of mental errors.” He glanced at me, making me shrink into the cushion. ”Don't be afraid to swing on Monday, but try and aim for good spots. Their infield had the fewest amount of errors last season.”
I nodded. ”I can get it to the outfield.” Probably. Depending on the pitch. And placement of the outfielders.
Zeke nodded, apparently satisfied with my response. He looked back to his youngest brother. ”You, on the other hand, need to hit the cages some more. Only a week off and you were swinging at pitches that weren't even close.”
Noah jumped off the couch, looking slightly angry. ”Stop nitpicking. I'm allowed to have an off day every now and then.”
Zeke looked like he was about to reply, but was interrupted by loud noises coming from the front door. He set the iPad down and got up. ”What's that?” I heard him ask.
”It's a radar pitching trainer!” I heard Dave's excitement. ”Look! It has the pitching speed display and can keep track of pitching statistics like strikes, balls, walks, and strikeouts. Help us set it up!”
”Tomorrow.” I heard Mr. Atkins say. ”It's too dark out. Plus, your mom and brother will be home for dinner soon. Let's set the table.”
Noah hurried out of the living room, presumably heading to the front door to see what Dave was talking about. ”Wow! Dad! You really got this for the twins??”
”You can try it out too. Same goes for Zeke and Jake.” I heard Mr. Atkins tell him. ”It's an early birthday gift. I figured all of you could use it during the season. Especially with league play starting up.”
”I can't wait to try it!” Dave said.
My curiosity got me wandering what all the excitement was about. I got off the couch and hurried over to join the others. All four of them surrounded a giant box, almost taller than me. The picture on it was of a teen pitching to a black screen with marking of a suggested strike zone. Like Dave said, it had a screen to display the speed up top and had room for the ball and strike count. It was pretty cool.
”Isn't it two months too early?” Noah asked, scanning his dad up and down. ”This isn't like you. Aren't you the stickler for celebrating birthdays on the actual day of birth?”
Mr. Atkins awkwardly moved away, slightly lifting some bags in his hands. ”I'll move the food to the kitchen. You boys can move the box off to the side for now. If you wake up early enough, I'll help set it up.” He swiftly moved to the kitchen and dining room area.