"Oh?" Rhys put on a smile, but it didn't look like he was happy. "You think after a year off, I'm too weak? Too slow? Have no control?"
Zeke showed a crooked grin. "You might be a little out of practice after a year off. Meanwhile, I've become one of the best batters in the game. Even the MLB wants me."
My jaw dropped. I've never seen Zeke so...arrogant.
Rhys cracked his knuckles. "I guess I need to show you how well I've recovered. Not just mentally, but physically too. I'm better than I was before I tore up my arm. I'm at a higher level."
"That doesn't mean much when you're just doing bullpen sessions." Zeke told him. "Have you even practice against live hitters?"
"Let's go 'practice' right now." Rhys left the room.
Zeke followed.
"I want to play too!" Noah chased after them.
I hurried to keep up.
"Mom! We'll be in the backyard!" Rhys told his mom as we marched through the back door, picking up our baseball bags on the way.
"Sure! I'll bring the snacks out in a bit!" She reminded him.
"Thanks!"
Outside, we stopped on the back deck and started to pull our stuff out.
Rhys had to get his own cleats and glove from the shelf nearby and started to change shoes. "I'll need some time to warmup."
"Sure. I'll help." Zeke said generously, tying his cleats. "It's been awhile since we played catch."
"Jake and I will pair up too!" Noah said.
Rhys looked at us and laughed. "You guys aren't pitching...why do you need to warmup?"
"It's boring to just wait for you guys." Noah told him.
With throwing partners decided, we finished tying our cleats and put our gloves on. Rhys grabbed two baseballs and gave Noah one before we spread out on the grass. I stood with Zeke, while the other two took the far end. Then we started to throw.
It was light and easy until Rhys started to back up. If that wasn't enough, he started to throw a little harder. Noah, who made everything a competition, started to copy his movements: backing up and throwing harder. I swallowed nervously, watching Noah get further and further away from me.
"Keep calm." Zeke said beside me. "Just throw while aiming at Noah. You've got this."
I nodded, caught the ball, and then did my best to throw it to Noah. He caught it and I sighed with relief. I was no longer the weakling from four and a half months ago. I was stronger. I did pushups and lifted weights. My core muscles weren't visible, but they were firm.
"Don't try to compare yourself to me and Rhys." Zeke told me as we continued to throw to our respective partners. "I'm an outfielder. I have to throw long and sometimes, fast. As a pitcher, Rhys also has to have good arm strength. It's a good way to warmup, throwing long. It loosens the surrounding muscles."
"Does Noah also have to have a good arm?" I asked, feeling like I was giving it my all, while Noah looked like he was having fun.
Zeke smiled. "Yes. Shortstops are known for having good arms and good reflexes. As a second baseman, don't worry so much. The fact that you can do cutoff throws is already good. Plus, with your batting, you shouldn't worry so much."
"I just don't like feeling behind." I told him with all honesty.
"You think Noah likes being worse than you at batting?" He threw the ball to Rhys and made eye contact with me. "He supports you, but he still wants to be the best. You might be a little more competitive than I thought."
I blinked. I'm competitive?
After a few more throws, Rhys waved at Zeke and headed for the bullpen. Zeke jogged and followed him in. Apparently he was going to play catcher to help Rhys finish a proper warmup.
Seeing them go, Noah jogged to me and grinned. "That was fun. We should throw like this more often."
I cracked a smile. "Sure."
"Wow. Really?" Noah poked me. "Don't you usually hate everything that isn't batting?"
I rubbed my nose. "I don't hate it. I just don't like it as much."
"I've laid some snacks out for you boys!" Mrs. Johnson called out from the back door and waved. When she caught our attention, she pointed at the big table on the back porch. Then she went back inside.
Noah didn't have to be told twice. Snacks was his love language. I wondered if I should tell that to Alisha as I watched Noah sprint to the table of food. Nah. I should just let it be. If she couldn't figure out that Noah liked food, then it's probably best that they don't end up together.
I joined him at the table and found that every inch was covered. Chips and dip. Tortilla chips with salsa and guacamole. Sliced veggies with ranch. Cookies. Cupcakes. Cheese and crackers.
"Are these snacks or lunch?" I asked.
"Who cares?!" Noah took two cookies and started to eat.
I also helped myself to some chips and dip, thinking it was very much a summertime snack. We ate and I laughed as Noah resembled a chipmunk, saving food for later.
Eventually Zeke came over to grab his bat. He looked at us. "Why don't you guys come too. Didn't you want to face off with Rhys, Noah?"
We grabbed our bats, and Noah grabbed a few more cookies, then we headed to the bullpen. They had set up a screen to protect Rhys from any hits headed his way and put a bucket of balls near him so there wasn't any need for a catcher.
"Oh? Jake and Noah want a piece of me too?" Rhys grinned, tossing the baseball up and catching it repeatedly.
Noah wasn't able to say anything with his mouth stuffed.
I just shrugged.
Zeke walked in first. "Let's settle our dispute first. I get three at bats. If you don't strike me out, then it proves that I'm a better batter than you are a pitcher."
"Tch. Strikeouts aren't everything." Rhys rebutted.
"But that's what we were talking about." Zeke said, taking a few practice swings. He stepped up to bat. "Ready."
Rhys pursed his lips, but got set on his mound. As a tall lefty, he really did resemble Garret. But after he threw his first pitch to Zeke, I had changed my mind. Rhys was fast. The fastest I've seen up close like this.
Zeke had fouled the ball back.
"Do you think that was in the 90's?" Noah asked.
I nodded. "Easily." I tried to watch closely as Rhys prepared to throw another pitch. He stood tall, picked up his front leg, then kicked it out a few feet in front of him. Then his delivery came, but there was something off about it. I just couldn't put my finger on it.
It zoomed by Zeke as he didn't swing. He called out. "Ball."
"No way!" Rhys argued. He looked to us, standing behind the fence behind Zeke. "Wasn't that in the zone?"
Noah shrugged. "I blinked."
I hesitated. "It was in." Just barely though.
Rhys grinned, triumphantly. "See? Let Jake be the umpire. He has good eyes."
Zeke glanced at me. "Fine."