The Hitting Zone

"Why do you need so many tokens?" Dave demanded as we stood at the counter at The Cages. After dinner last night, the boys all agreed we would go to The Arcade from mid morning to late afternoon.

At the moment, Noah was trying to convince Dave we needed thirty tokens which would cost him thirty dollars. "Dave, you lost the bet. You said you would pay for the cages. You can't go back on your word. Kyle even has it on film."

"Noah's right." Kyle waved his phone proudly.

"I just don't understand why you need so many. We aren't going to be here the whole day." Dave grumbled, but still pulling out his wallet.

"Jake likes to do every machine. And he hits both left and right. That's almost twenty tokens just for him." Noah informed them. "Zeke, tell him he has to follow through or he has to run laps."

"You brat." Dave reached out, but Noah swiftly dodged and took cover behind the eldest brother. I also took a few steps back to get out of fighting range. I really didn't need that many tokens, but Noah was doing his best to swindle others so I couldn't interfere.

Zeke stood tall, unmoving like a mountain against the wind. "You lost the bet. You should have clarified how much you were willing to spend if it's such a big deal." Wow. Zeke to the rescue. I never thought he'd be righteous and fair like his dad. He looked at me suddenly. "And you better not waste a pitch." He turned all the way to tower over Noah. "You as well. No misses."

"Fine. But I get to pick my own speed setting. You can't just be unreasonable and demand I hit a bunch of 90 mph in a row." Noah said back.

"Agreed." Zeke nodded, then look back at Dave. "Get going. We're waiting on you."

Dave mumbled under his breath and turned his attention back to the lady behind the counter. The same one as last week. Luckily she didn't call me and Noah out for being bad last week.

"Ah. The Atkins all here together again. It's been awhile since the whole crew was here at the same time." Mr. Williams came out of his office and greeted them.

The older three greeted him politely, but Noah didn't bother. Instead, he came up front and dragged me along. "Look here, Mr. Williams. Jake hasn't even made a crack in his bat. That last one was definitely faulty."

"Let me see." Mr. Williams held his hands out to me.

I pulled my bat out of my bag and gently laid it in his hands for him to examine. The wooden bat had a gleam to it like it was made with laminate. That's only due to my constant polishing with the rubbing alcohol every night even when I didn't get to use my bat at practice with Drew.

"You really took care of it this week." He handed it back. "Keep up the good work. And please, don't break it here otherwise I'll have to hear Noah complain a million more times." He laughed to himself and strolled away to chat with other Sunday regulars.

Dave came back with our tokens and we split them twenty to me, ten to Noah. Apparently Dave also got ten for himself. "Where do we start?"

Noah rubbed his nose. "Welllllll Jake likes to start slow. Like real slow."

"Let's just separate and do our own thing for now." Kyle proposed. "No doubt, we all want to work on different things."

Zeke nodded, then shot Noah and I a look. And not the friendly kind. "No gambles, bets, or hustles. Or, I'll make you both walk home."

I nodded obediently. I would never go looking for trouble. The same can't be said for Noah. He's like a magnet for bad ideas. It would be best if I could just relax in the cage and not make every pitch and hit a part of some bet that'll lead to disaster.