Eternity (Fury) by Miles Elizabeth

Author:Miles, Elizabeth [Miles, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Simon Pulse
Published: 2013-09-03T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Only you would wear a suit to Fun Zone,” Ned said as his ball ricocheted off the fencing behind them. Foul.

“It’s not a suit,” JD said, taking a few strong practice swings as he got into position. “It’s my dad’s blazer with pants that aren’t ripped jeans. And stop trying to throw me off my game.”

It was Saturday morning and they were at the indoor batting cage in the middle of a much-larger sports arcade near Ascension, a place made for kids’ birthday parties and rowdy teenage boys. JD and Ned weren’t the usual clientele—a few too many honors classes (not to mention years) under their belts—but it was a spring tradition for them to come here every year before opening day of baseball season.

JD was grateful for the chance to blow off some steam. The interaction with Skylar’s sister in the graveyard was etched in his mind, mingling with unavoidable image of Crow stalking Em, and of that snake pin buried in the mud. . . . And then there was Ty. Ty texting him, teasing him; Ty’s laugh echoing in his mind. Like she’d implanted herself there.

He couldn’t shake a bad feeling. He’d woken up from a nightmare only to forget the details but be haunted by the sense, all day, of darkness.

“Don’t forget that Keith wants us to come over tonight to pick our fantasy rosters,” Ned said, squatting in the corner of the cage and tearing into a bag of sour-cream-and-onion potato chips. Dressed in a T-shirt and army-green cargo pants, Ned looked ripped from the pages of an online gaming brochure. As for JD . . . well, it wasn’t clear what type of catalog he was modeling for. His pinstripe pants, buckled boots, plain white T-shirt, and glasses . . . None of it suggested Sports Guy.

The first pitch from the machine came barreling toward JD and he let it go by. He liked to get used to the space, to the feel of the bat, to the speed of the pitch, before taking his first swing. “You’d be having a better time if you hadn’t gotten off to such a crappy start,” he said, and Ned grunted in assent.

“You gonna wait all day there, buddy?” Ned called out as JD let another one fly by his head.

“It’s called patience,” JD said, tightening his grip on the bat.

“It’s called being a—” Ned cut himself off as JD swung at the next pitch. Made contact. The ball soared straight toward the back wall, getting stuck in the netting that lined the rear of the cage. “Okay, beginner’s luck,” he said. “Nice one.”

JD smiled, feeling the dancing sensation in his stomach that came whenever he did something well. Like when he aced a test, or figured out a complicated circuit. Like every time he beat Em at Scrabble.

“You call it beginner’s luck; I call it having a good eye,” he said, grabbing for the chips. “You’re up.”

On his next turn, Ned managed to hit another foul ball that shot straight up in the air above them.

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