The Hitting Zone

I followed the boys through the garage to their Dodge Durango. Zeke was already in the drivers seat, turning the car. The twins were putting baseball bags into the trunk.

I forgot my bat upstairs! I started to head back in, but Noah grabbed a hold of me. He pointed at his bag in the trunk. "I put your glove and bat with mine. We'll share for right now. I also packed some old cleats of mine that you could use for now."

I sighed with relief.

"We keep our baseball stuff in the trunk so after school we'll go straight to the car to grab it before practice." Noah rolled his eyes. "Zeke parks all the way by the fields, so walking through the parking lot in the morning is slightly annoying."

I didn't get it, but I nodded along anyways. Then we piled into the car. Dave snatched the front passenger seat, forcing Kyle to the back with us. Even though there was a third row, we three, stayed in the middle since it wouldn't be a long ride. Thankfully Noah sat between me and Kyle so I wouldn't feel very anxious.

Zeke turned up the radio to drown out the twins bickering and off we went. When they said it was a short drive, they meant it. Within ten minutes, the high school appeared in sight. It was in the middle of a residential neighborhood, but stood out as the gym took a lot of space up front and had 'Watsonville High School' written on it. How generic.

Zeke drove through the entrance and went to a back parking lot, circling the school, giving me a good look. It wasn't overly huge, just midsized. There looked to be a couple of main buildings and then some portable classrooms added on the edges. In the back of the school looked to be the athletics area. There was outdoor basketball courts, tennis courts, and a pool beside the gym. Then further down was the football fields and baseball fields. Surprisingly there was two of each.

I tugged on Noah's sleeve and pointed outside the window as we passed by the first set of fields and drove to the second set. The baseball field and football field were only separated by the outfield fence.

"This lower field is for varsity." Noah said. "Hence why Zeke parks all the way down here. That football field is where varsity soccer and football practice, but they play their games at the stadium a couple blocks away. The upper fields are for freshmen and junior varsity teams to practice and play games."

After Zeke finally parked, we got out of the car. The older three started walking towards the school without a glance to us.

Noah held me back and pointed at their baseball field. It was totally decked out with dugouts, stands, lights, and pitching mounds to the side for warming up. "Practice is here everyday after school from 3-6. We also play our home games here so they have a caretaker for the field itself."

They don't have to do cleanup and take care of the field themselves? How fancy. Even though the school isn't huge or a private school, they could still afford something like a caretaker? Nice.

"I'm not a caretaker, Noah Atkins. I'm the field manager." A voice said from behind us.

I jumped, totally startled, and we turned to face where the voice came from. A middle aged man in a 'WHS' baseball cap was sitting on a golf cart.

"Right, right. I forget sometimes." Noah placated. "Jake this is Mr. Miller, the field manager. Mr. Miller, this is Jake, my foster brother. He's going to join the team today."