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The Hitting Zone Chapter 117

Chapter 117 Lunch 2

Apparently Outback Steakhouse was a popular, Australian-themed restaurant that served different kinds of steak. The twins and the adults were able to order their favorite steaks. Zeke picked a chopped salad with grilled chicken.

Noah was still deciding as the waiter stood by our table. "But I really want a steak too."

"That'll sit in your stomach too long. It could affect your game performance in a couple of hours." Zeke educated. "Have a salad. It'll fill you up and give you fuel."

Noah scrunched up his face at the though. He turned to me. "What are you getting since we aren't allowed a heavy meal?"

I pointed at a specific item in the menu. The waiter peered over my shoulder and nodded. "Good choice. Our baked potato soup is a favorite."

"Soup?! You're getting soup? That's not even a meal. That's an appetizer." Noah squinted at me. "Are you secretly an old man?"

"I like soup." I stated as I kept my eyes on the table.

"All kinds?" Noah asked.

I shrugged.

"Come on. Give me a list."

"How about you order first so we can get our food?" Mr. Atkins reminded him.

"Just give me the soup too then!" Noah told the waiter. "But make sure you bring out extra bread. Like lots of bread. As soon as they come out of the oven, bring them straight to our table."

The waiter wrote down the order on his notepad and went to the back to prepare our food.

Noah turned back to me. "So? You gonna tell us?"

I looked around and they were all staring at me, waiting for something. "I like all kinds of soup."

"Why?" Dave made a face of disgust.

"It never goes bad and it's easy to warm it up in the microwave." I replied honestly. "People-at my old school-knew I wasn't well off. The food pantry gives soup cans."

The silence at the table was thick.

After a moment, Noah patted my shoulder. "Thanks for sharing Jake. But ya know, you don't have to force yourself to like it now. Mom and Dad can afford real food."

I tilted my head. "Soup is real food."

Mr. Atkins coughed to grab our attention. "I personally like tomato soup with grilled cheese."

There was another awkward pause until he nudged his wife. "Oh. Well I like tortilla soup. Especially on cold winter days." She looked expectantly at the twins.

"I'm with dad. Tomato soup with grilled cheese." Kyle nodded along.

Dave still had an expression of disgust going on. "You're all so gross. Soup is basically liquid dinner."

"Chicken noodle soup." Zeke commented.

Dave looked bewildered. "You're all crazy."

"I think there's a soup restaurant nearby right?" Mrs. Atkins ignored Dave. "Soup plantation? Serves a lot of different kinds of soup." She smiled at me. "If you do well in the next game, you can pick that for dinner, if you'd like?"

I looked at Zeke. He and Noah haven't picked a meal yet. I'm sure one or both of them will outperform me.

"Zeke would get to pick dinner all the time if we went by normal rules." Noah read my facial expressions clearly. "He only gets to pick when the rest of us does poorly. The hard life of the best in the county."

"Best player." Zeke replied. "Not the best team."

"What's the difference?" I asked. Shouldn't the best player be on the best team..?

Zeke's eyes settled on me. "The best player won't always be on the best team. The best team is a well rounded team with hardly any holes. They have great pitching and have strength in their rotation. They're batting lineup has no weaknesses, just good batters and better batters. For example, our team is good. Great even. But not the best. Our bottom lineup is always questionable. It's not easy for everyone to have a good game on the same day."

The family may have been surprised that I spoke a couple of sentences, but for me, Zeke's explanation was the most shocking. He was a guy of few words, yet when it came to baseball, he was the almighty god. He knew everything, all the time. Noah knew a lot, but no one near as much as Zeke. He was only a mini version of the real thing.

"So, who's the best?" I pulled my eyebrows together.

"Paradise." He answered. The table fell quiet. "They're the number one seed right now. We'll play them next. If we beat them, not only do we win this tournament, we also move up in county rankings. And state rankings. They're predicted to win CIF Northern Section, division two."

"Glad I'm not Garret right now." Dave shivered. "He's going to take a blow today."

"I don't plan on losing." Zeke said immediately in response.

I looked at Noah. "You told me before?"

Noah looked confused for a second but quickly understood what I was saying. "Yes, I've told you about CIF. It's divided into sections, then divisions, then conferences within each division. We're in the northern section with Paradise. They're in division two and we're in division three. The difference in divisions is usually the size of the school. We're average on the scale. But Paradise Prep is a private school, that can give athletes preferred admission. So they get a lot of good guys."

"Jake will get to hit freely, I'll be able to drive him home. As long as we score more, we win." Zeke put forth.

Hit freely? Anyway I want?? I grinned, even showing teeth. Who cares about the game, when I get to do what I want now.

The Hitting Zone

The Hitting Zone

N/A
Score 8.7
Status: Ongoing Type: Author:
After a near death experience thanks to his own mother, Jake Hollander has an adverse reaction to people, baseball, and family. His feeling of abandonment is slowly lost thanks to his foster family, The Atkins. They take him in and change his mind about everything. He becomes more open, better at baseball, and craves for family. Slowly all wishes are granted.

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