The Hitting Zone

"Just follow me." The boy smiled at me and then led me to the stairs by the front door. As we climbed the stairs, I noticed multiple pictures were hung on the walls. Family pictures apparently. The boy caught me looking and stopped in front of one. "This is a photo of us we took last month, during Christmas."

They all wore matching Christmas tree sweaters in front of a fireplace. He started to point at each one. "That's obviously me. Mom. Dad. Zeke is the one that isn't smiling right there. Dave and Kyle are the twins." Zeke and the twins looked very similar to Noah and his mom. Very strong genes. Their dad was tall, with sandy hair, and light colored eyes. "You'll meet them tomorrow when they come back from camp." He picked up a cookie and started to eat.

I looked at him, raising an eyebrow. I could hear the bitterness in the word camp, loud and clear.

He sighed at my look. "It was a baseball selection camp for travel ball from the fall and winter season. Unfortunately I wasn't invited because I'm not at their level yet." He shot a glare at the photo. "Those jerks." He turned away and started to stomp up the stairs. I followed.

He pointed at closed doors and told me which room was whose. The twins shared the master bedroom with Zeke. His parents room faced the front yard and had a bathroom of their own inside. We had the last room on the right, facing the backyard. The bathroom that belonged to us was the one in the hall, but apparently, sometimes his brothers used it as well.

He opened the door to our room. "Well, this is it. Mi casa es su casa. Yada-yada." He went to the bottom bunk of the bed and continued to eat the cookies. "Top bunk is yours. That dresser on the left is yours. I tried to clear out half the closet but I have too much baseball stuff so there isn't much space."

Baseball? I thought back to his comment about his brothers who are at camp for travel ball. They must be good. I've heard from a few friends in middle school, that they got to play baseball on city teams when the schools baseball team wasn't in session.

"Do you really need help unpacking or are you just zoning out?" Noah said from his bed.

I dropped my backpack near the two dressers on the left side of the room and started to put away what little I had. All that was left was my baseball glove and the backpack itself.

"Backpack goes on the back of the door. I'm sure you'll have to use it for school on Monday." Noah seemed to know that I didn't know where to put it.

I close the door slightly to find a backpack already hanging from a hook. I hung mine as well and pulled out the glove.

"Oh! You play!? You should have said something sooner." Noah set the cookie plate down and opened his closet. It had three-foot shelves that held multiple gloves, old scorecards, and some baseball books. Three aluminum bats caught my eye from the corner of the closet. I flinched and took a step back.

Noah didn't notice as he was busy pulling out a baseball backpack that contained a bat, glove, some balls, and other gear. "Just set it in here and we'll be able to go play later." I placed my glove in his outstretched hand. "Wow. This is really broken in. You must have had this forever."

Not really. I grabbed it from the lost and found in seventh grade after I outgrew the kid one I got from a friend. I never had baseball stuff of my own.

Noah sensed something was off about me. He pushed the bag back to the closet and stood up to face me. He patted the top of my head, "Don't worry if you think you aren't good. I'll teach you everything I know."

I tilted my head.

"Oh? That wasn't it? My bad." He shrugged with a smile on his face. "No matter. I'm the best around here so you'll have something to learn."