With everything done, it was time for me to go back to school. It was the start of practice by the time they dropped me off, so they took me straight to the field.
"Noah sent a text saying he put your baseball bag in the clubhouse." Mrs. Atkins told me as I got out of the car. "We'll take your backpack home."
"Thanks." I gave a smile then hurried down to the field. If I didn't hurry, I might have to warm up with Drew instead of just joining in late with the team. I could see them just coming out of the dugout so I could still make it.
In the clubhouse, I spotted my bag out in the open where Noah and I usually put our cleats on. I went to it and pulled out my baseball pants and an old t-shirt. Neither of these items were appropriate court-wear so I had to just pack them. I looked around; seeing that I had the room to myself, I started to change here instead of running to the bathroom to do so.
I quickly got out of the khakis I was wearing and pulled my baseball pants on. Then I put on my socks and cleats, keeping them untied for the moment. I unbuttoned the dress shirt I was wearing and reached for the t-shirt on top of my bag.
"Jake!" Noah hollered.
"What's taking so long Jake?" Dave asked.
Two familiar voices came in the room. I hurried to turn away and tried my best to get my shirt on before they could see me. After getting my shirt on, I realized it was quiet. Too quiet. Did Noah and Dave leave? I spun back around, finding the pair standing side by side, looking at me.
I felt the blood rush to my face in embarrassment. "Did you see?"
Dave shifted his eyes away, uncomfortable. He definitely saw some of my scars. I was scared to face Noah, but he gave me no choice as he took long strides across the room to me.
"Jake. Was that..?" He asked, worry and a hint of fear in his voice.
"Just some old scars. They don't hurt." I reassured him.
He reached for my shirt, about to lift it.
I quickly slapped his hands away. "Don't!"
Noah looked down at his hands that I just smacked. "You. You just hit me." I turned really red in the face, feeling uneasy.
"Come on, Noah, back up." Dave jumped in, pulling Noah back a few feet. "You know how shy Jake is. Just leave him alone."
Noah recollected himself and looked me in the eye. "Is this why you change in the bathroom all the time? How bad is it? Does Mom and Dad know? Are they all from that woman?"
"Noah." Dave shook Noah's shoulders. "Relax. Why are you asking questions you already know the answer to?"
"I just want him to talk with me." Noah glanced up at Dave. "We're friends. Practically brothers. Isn't it weird that he hasn't shared this? Isn't it-"
"Embarrassing." I blurted out. They went silent and watched me. "I'm embarrassed, alright?"
"Jake, there's no reason to be." Dave stressed.
"There is!" I yelled, clutching my arms around myself. Feeling a breakdown coming on, I took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "There's not a whole lot of kids who almost died at the hands of their mom. Each scar is a reminder of how she didn't want me, I wasn't enough, and how I'm not like others. Like you guys. Just, just pretend you didn't see, okay?"
"Okay, Jake." Dave said softly. "I won't say anything to anybody. You're still you, regardless of how you look." He reached out to me and I flinched, scared he was going to pull my shirt. He let his hand drop. "Let's get back to the field before someone else comes looking for us."
"You go out first." Noah told him, eyes on me.
"Noah.." Dave said.
Noah glanced at him. "We'll only be a second."
Dave studied his face for an extra second before nodding and jogging out.
"I'm sorry Jake." Noah told me immediately. "I didn't-I don't- I won't." He shook his head. "Ugh. What am I trying to say?!"
Seeing him like this, I relaxed a little. "It's okay. I understand."
"You do?"
I nodded. "You feel bad for me. I get it. But, I get enough pity, so-"
"It's not just pity!" Noah said, looking me in the eyes. "I'm angry at you for not telling me. I'm also angry that this has happened to you. I only saw part of your back. I can't imagine what the rest of your torso looks like."
"Worse." I grimaced.
"Yea, I figured." He sighed. "I don't want you to feel scared or nervous to tell me something from now on. You're my best friend. You should be able to come to me with anything."
I gave him a sad smile. "I'm just not ready yet."
Noah sighed. "Okay. I won't bug you about it anymore for now. Let's hurry up before Zeke gives us extra laps for being late."
I nodded and bent to tie my shoes.
"You know, you shouldn't be ashamed of those scars." Noah told me as I finished getting ready. "Just like the scar on your arm from sliding into home, they're kind of like battle scars. You survived. They made you who you are. And I like who you are."
I wasn't there yet. I didn't like myself enough. There was still hate, doubt, and insecurity. But I told Noah, "Sure." Then we jogged out to the dugout and dropped off my bag.
The team had finished their warmups and were on to splitting up in groups for different drills.
"I'll watch you guys warmup." Drew came over, joining us in the outfield. "Then after you can run two laps, per Zeke's suggestion." He laughed at our depressed faces. "Come on, don't look at me like that. You only have three practices left before the finals. Let's get to work."