The Hitting Zone

I was pretty much depressed for the rest of the evening. What's the point of all this practice, when I couldn't even bat. Don't they understand that I've never challenged real pitchers before? I sighed and continued looking up common pitches thrown at the high school level. I wanted to at least prepare in case I come across something new like I did with Garret and his cut fastball also known as a cutter.

A knock interrupted my note taking. Mr. Atkins stood in the doorway of the room. "Mind if I come in?"

I shrugged. Noah was still in the shower so there was space for him to stand, but he's a pretty big guy.

He leaned against my desk, and gave me a light smile. "Studying?"

I shook my head, feeling a little guilty for not working on my homework.

He laughed. "It looks like you're studying different types of pitches. That's studying even if it isn't homework." He tilted his head. "Are you trying to become a pitcher? Or is it for hitting practice?"

"To be a better hitter." I whispered.

"Ambitious! That's good to hear." He cleared his throat, turning a little solemn. "I'm glad that you're starting to talk more. And we're happy that you picked up baseball and get to play with the boys. But you know...." He took a deep breath and I started to feel anxious at what he was trying to say. "This doesn't solve the root of your problems."

I tilt my head in confusion.

He squatted so we were eye level. "You remember how Mr. Duncan said you would see a therapist in addition to your counselor at school? Well we found a nearby psychologist that handles abuse victims. We would like you to start visiting him once a week. And then he would start working with you and your school counselor."

I didn't know what to say or where to start. And that would probably be my first problem when I see the psychologist. What would we talk about if I don't talk? The second problem would be the school counselor. She never called me into her office so I've never met her. Even if she did, I probably wouldn't go alone since being in a room, alone, with someone that could be like my mother would be a hell no from me. The third problem would be when? When would I go? Between class, practice, homework, shower and sleep, there wasn't any real free time. Except....on the weekends...

I looked at him. Waiting.

"Do you have a question?" He raised an eyebrow, looking like a friendlier version of Zeke.

"When?" I spat out.

"When would you see him?" Mr. Atkins asked and I nodded. "We're thinking Wednesday nights. One of us will pick you up early from practice and then wait for your session to be over."

"You can't do that Dad." Noah burst into the room, startling us and making Mr. Atkins stand upright. "Jake can't miss practice!"

Mr. Atkins frowned and I was stunned. "Noah you don't understand right now, but-"

"No. You don't understand." Noah cut him off. "If Jake misses any practice, then the other guys will be upset if he starts above them. Chris was already out for him today."

"Noah. This isn't really negotiable." Mr. Atkins sighed. "This is for Jake's mental health. The state says he has to get counseling. We can only obey the law and get him the help he needs."

"Jake is fine." Noah looked my way. "Tell him you're okay. You want to play baseball."

I couldn't. Because I didn't really want to. What I wanted was to play with Noah. I wanted to hit the ball. I wanted them to want me. And. I didn't want to let them down.

I wasn't okay. Not at all. I was anxious a lot. About anything and everything. Mothers. Women who could be mothers. Aluminum bats. Anyone bigger than me. Anyone that was aggressive. I was scared Mr. Duncan could find my dad and brother. I was scared he couldn't find them. I was scared they would find me and blame me for making mom crazy. There were so many worries. I had so many questions. But I couldn't voice them out. I...felt like running.

I abruptly stood up. Then quickly bypassed Noah and moved down the hall. Unfortunately Kyle had just come up the stairs and we ran into each other. Okay, it was more of me running into his chest.

"Woah. You okay there kiddo?" Kyle caught me before I fell.

"Jake!" Noah was the first to come out of the room. Mr. Atkins wasn't far behind. "Jake." Noah sighed with relief when he saw Kyle holding me. "I didn't mean to make you run, Jake. You can see the guy, I don't care. I'll just have to make the team understand."

"Understand what?" Kyle asked in confusion. "What's going on?"

"Jake is going to see a psychologist on Wednesday nights." Zeke declared from his bedroom doorway, standing more firm than his own dad. He eyed me. "Coach will understand. Just focus on you first." He turned back into the room.

Mr. Atkins had a calm expression. "See? Everything will work out. Eventually."

Eventually. I didn't like that word. It was like a promise that may be kept, but not in the way you expected.