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Noah and I separated from the twins at the snackbar. They got their food then met up with some of the other pitchers from our team. I wanted to get in line, but Noah subtly held me back, trying to distract me, showing me some baseball videos on his phone. 

Abruptly, midway through one of the videos, he clicked it off. "Great, they're finally gone. C'mon, let's hurry."

"Who? What? Where?" I was unprepared, and unable to keep up with Noah's train of thought. 

"The team. They've cleared the snackbar area." He tilted his head and gestured. "We have to hurry so we're not late for the game." He dug through a small pocket of his bag and pulled out some dollar bills. 

I frowned. "We don't need the money. The voucher covers a hotdog, a bag of peanuts, and a Gatorade or water bottle."

Noah laughed and gave my shoulder a pat. "Jake, that's just the basics. We're going to need extras." He pulled me to the snackbar. "Let's go."