394 Golden West @ Servite 4 (1/2)

I felt awful. Inside and out. The bathroom stunk and my knees hurt from being on concrete for five straight minutes as I emptied my stomach. So much for that hotdog. And my apple. And my banana.

Knocking sounded on the stall door. ”Jake?” A deep voice questioned. ”It's Zeke. Is this the stall you're in?”

I didn't answer with words, just with actions. From my knees, I unlocked the door and went back to spitting in the toilet.

”Want to talk about it?” He asked, towering above me.

I shook my head.

He squatted so we could see each other's face. ”You know, if you don't talk about it, you're not going to get better. You'll just get sick like this all the time. Is that what you want? To throw up every week?” He pulled out a water bottle from his pocket. ”Here. Rinse your mouth first and then you can tell me what upsets you so much that you have to waste my two dollar hotdog.”

I cracked a smile. The whole Atkins family had a weird sense of humor. Why bully me over two dollars? I'm sure his mom would reimburse him. Wait. I rinsed my mouth then looked up at him. ”Mrs. Atkins said she would give you money last night...doesn't that mean it wasn't your two dollars?”

Zeke smiled. ”Feeling better already?”

I shrugged, and patted my stomach. ”There's nothing left.”

”Want to talk in here or go get some fresh air?” He asked.

I looked around. Servite may have a pretty school and an amazing field...but their bathrooms were absolute trash. ”Outside.”

Zeke helped me up. We both exited the stall amidst some strange looks, but no one said anything with Zeke towering over everyone. We washed our hands and left. Zeke knew where he was going because it didn't take him long to find an open grassy area with hardly anyone around.

The game was still going on and fans were still cheering. It's a weird transition from feeling like my world stopped but the outside world didn't.

”What was the trigger?” Zeke asked.

”What?” I asked, not understanding.

”What set you off? Willie was talking and then all of a sudden you were up and out.” Zeke looked out to the field, where the game was still being played. ”Was it the talk about the pitching coach?”

”Sort of.” I put my hands together and tapped my thumbs against each other. ”My mom used to say that my dad picked baseball over us.” Supposedly my brother did too. ”Hearing that the pitching coach here, chose to stay with this job because of his daughter made me feel...jealous. Angry. Sad. Devastated. Then just sick to my stomach.”

”You don't usually talk about your dad, but you've mentioned your mom before.” Zeke glanced down at me. ”Has it ever crossed your mind that she was lying?”

I blinked.

”Kids naturally believe what their parents say.” Zeke shook his head. ”You know your mom wasn't a good person, yet you believe her words so easily. You don't know the truth regarding your father. You may never know. Every family has their own issues. Some more defined than others.”

Yea...I knew that from my talk with Mr. Atkins.

”For all you know, that pitching coach could be a single parent for some reason. Whether it's because the child is adopted. The mother died. The mother divorced him and ran away. There's a lot that could be speculated.” He put his hand on my shoulder. ”When I said you need to stop being so negative, I didn't mean only in baseball. In life too.”

Right. I nodded.