BEHIND THE STARS - "Captive" (Vol. 1)

Chapter 4

D’Lo laughed as we walked down the trail toward the creek.

“You are one crazy redneck, Jax.”

“Why? Cause I’m not scared of you?” Jackson held my hand on one side and carried his fishing pole in the other.

Dabb Creek was named after the best fishing hole in a twenty-mile radius, and that hot August day, the week before senior year began, it was the only place to be.

“You’d better be scared of me,” D’Lo said. “I’ll break your puny-ass first play of the game.”

I agreed. Jackson’s sudden desire to play football was the wildest idea he’d had to date. Mississippi was football country, and players here were born to dominate, averaging six-two, two hundred pounds each—even the white boys.

Dee’s words gave me a chill, and I instinctively pulled closer. Jackson glanced at me and smiled, squeezing my hand.

“Not if I’m faster than you,” he said. “Not if I’ve got good blockers who cover for me, and I can get a pass off in time.”

D’Lo blew air through his thick lips and rolled his eyes. “Boy, you are asking for it.”

“Besides, you’re going to be on my side,” Jackson continued. “I just might see about getting you on the offensive line. Center.”

We were at the creek, and I walked down the bank to sit in the shade and lower my feet into the frigid water. Jackson pulled off his shirt and stripped down to his boxers before wading out and then diving into the bone-chilling current. I watched him swim while D’Lo strolled up the bank and out of sight to try his luck fishing.

“He’s right,” I said quietly as Jackson swam over to hold my legs. “You’re too little for football.”

“Did I just hear that? From you?” He smiled up at me, and my heart warmed. We’d been inseparable for so long. His rough hands grasped the back of my calves, and I reached down to rub the water out of his brown hair. It was wavy and the sun always bleached the tips golden blond.

“It’s not that you can’t do it,” I said. “It’s… well… it’s like a boxing match.”

“Boxing?”

“You don’t put the little guys up against the D’Los.”

I wanted my argument to change his mind, but I knew it wouldn’t. Once Jackson decided he’d do something, he did it, and he had it in his head to be starting quarterback for our high school’s team.

“You just don’t want to be a cheerleader,” he grinned, giving my legs a pull.

I slipped forward on the bank. “Jackson!” I squealed. “Don’t pull me in!”

“Admit it. This is about cheering.”

Since announcing he was going out for the football team, he’d been badgering me to be a cheerleader. We’d been arguing about it ever since, but he ultimately won. Senior year, and I was trying out for the squad. Ridiculous.

“It is not!” I kicked against the vise-grip he had on my calves. “I don’t want you getting killed.”

He released my legs and pulled himself up beside me on the bank. His boxers were transparent wet, and I looked away at the trees and up the bank wondering where D’Lo was.

“Why not?” Jackson’s voice softened as he reached for my chin, pulling my face back toward his.

I couldn’t move. My heart pounded, and I felt my cheeks turning pink.