The Hitting Zone

Math went nothing like what I expected. The twins didn't torture or terrorize me. After I did their homework, they didn't bug me at all. I took notes and they played on their phones. They didn't even open their books. After class, they even helped me get back to Noah's locker before going to their own class.

Noah and I exchanged our books and went to our last class of the day, health. Apparently it was only for freshmen and it only lasted a semester. The rest of the time would be physical education or another elective if you played a sport. For example, since his brothers played baseball for the school, instead of p.e., they took a computer coding class.

Health was held in the gym with about fifty kids in the bleachers as a coach spoke about human anatomy and physiology. Noah had us sit near the back and didn't even bother to pay attention. He just started to talk to me.

"How did math go? Did you understand? Did the twins do anything mean to you?" He quizzed me.

"Fine. Yes. Not really." I whispered.

He nodded, satisfied. "Good. I was worried the whole time. Now let's discuss our game plan for this afternoon."

I let out a sigh, making sure he knew that I didn't have the confidence he had.

"Now, now. Don't be such a pessimist. Hitting is your thing. That's what we emphasize. Zeke and the coach will probably have a few pitchers to go up against you. Maybe even the twins since Zeke took the bet."

My eyebrows shot up. The twins were pitchers?

Noah rolled his eyes. "Don't be too impressed. They really only pitch to contact, and aren't very fast compared to a machine. Maybe 85 mph at most. They don't have any special pitches except a change-up. You have good timing so I'm not worried about them." He took a deep breath. "The real challenge would be against a junior named Garret Knudsen. He's our ace. He's a lefty that has a really good cut fastball."

I raised my a hand to stop. "Cut?"

Noah nodded. He pulled a notebook out of his bag and flipped to a blank sheet. He drew the pitchers mound and batters box. "Look here. So when a lefty pitches a cut fastball, it comes inside for a righty's swing, jamming him and making the ball pop up or go foul." He drew a path to show how the pitch would look.

I pointed at the lefty's box.

"That's right. You'll have to switch to left for him. Especially if you don't want him to break your bat. A cut fastball is known for breaking wooden bats in the pros. As for speed, Garret throws a max of 85 mph as well, but he has way better control." He looked up from the book. "If you think you can't get a hit, just foul it off. Preferably wide so they can't get you on a foul pop-up. Understand?"

I nodded. I could foul pitches very easily. I don't know if that's a talent, but it's the closest I can get to one.

"Good. I already let it slipped that you can switch hit, but they don't know that you're equally dominant so just pretend to be a righty until Garret comes up." He flipped the page and started to draw bases. "Now onto fielding. You know the basics right?"

I shrugged. I practiced throwing fly balls to myself and occasionally I would get another player to roll me grounders, but never at game speed.

"Okay, this is what we're going to do." He circled the shortstop position. "That's me." Then he circled the second baseman position. "This will be you."