Read Online Catching Jordan by Miranda Kenneally - Free Book Online Page A

here. Henry’s wanted to go to school there for as long as I can remember.
    “Knock ’em dead, Woods,” Henry says. He slaps my back as the referee motions for captains to take the field for the coin toss. I jog toward the fifty-yard line with JJ and Carter and soon I’m standing in the center of the field with Carter on my right and JJ on my left. The ref tel s me to cal it.
    “Heads,” I say. The ref flips the quarter up into the air, and it hits the ground and lands on tails. The Lynchburg captain says they’l kick off. Looking at the field, I say we want to defend the less muddy side. I don’t want our defense slipping and fal ing al over the place. I’d rather run through the mud on the other side. JJ, Carter, and I jog back over to the sidelines, where I knock fists with Henry before he heads out to return the punt.
    “That’s cool that Ohio State’s here,” I say to Carter. He shrugs, which surprises me. I figured he’d be ecstatic. Joe Carter Sr. was a starting linebacker for Ohio State, not to mention the Miami Dolphins and the Titans!
    As the other team kicks off, Ty joins me. Together, we watch as Henry catches the bal and takes off down the field. He’s at our twenty, then our thirty…he zigs and zags past a couple cornerbacks, who trip and fal into the mud. Then Henry drives straight down, and he’s past the other team’s twenty, then the ten. And touchdown!
    Our cheerleaders cheer like crazy; our marching band plays a fight song. We are awesome.
    “Damn,” Ty says. “He made that look easy.”
    Screaming, I jump up and down. I shove a freshman, who stumbles and fal s onto the bench. I shove JJ, who doesn’t budge of course, but it’s the principle of the shove that matters. I knock fists and give high-fives to other guys on the sidelines, including Ty. When our hands high-five each other, I feel this, like, bolt of electricity between us.
    Henry spikes the bal and starts to do a dance, but then stops. I guess he realizes a dance isn’t worth a penalty in this weather. After our kicker makes the extra point, our defense hustles out and doesn’t al ow Lynchburg even one first down.
    Showtime.
    Jogging out onto the field, I take my position behind JJ.
    Lynchburg’s nose tackle says, “Hey, dyke. Your ass looks better than it did last year.”
    “Shut your mouth, asshole,” JJ says, slapping the tackle’s face mask.
    “It’s okay,” I say to JJ, loud enough for the tackle to hear me, “The only girlfriend he’l ever have is his right hand.”
    Coach talks to me through the speaker in my helmet. “Only carries tonight, Woods. No flashy passes.”
    “Red fifty!” I yel . “Red fifty! Blue twenty-five!” The cue is blue twenty-five, meaning JJ hikes the bal to me, I hand it off to our starting running back, Drew Bates, and he drives it up the middle. We get the first down easily.
    JJ slammed the hel out of the nose tackle, who’s now lying on the ground, clutching his stomach. “Nice,” I say with a laugh.
    The weather is causing Lynchburg to play even worse than usual, which is pretty damned bad, so we keep driving down the field.
    After I hand the bal off for the second touchdown, I hear Mom screaming for me from the bleachers. She’s sitting with Carter’s mom, Henry’s mom, and JJ’s parents.
    I didn’t figure Dad would come, but my head droops when I see he’s not here.
    Sopping wet with rain, Mom grins as she screams my name. I can’t wait to tel her how much I love her.
    By halftime, the score is 28–0. I’m embarrassed for Lynchburg, but I’m playing an amazing game even if I’m only handing the bal off and not throwing any long passes. I did run for a touchdown, though, just because I need to show off for the Alabama guy. Normal y I don’t do things like that, but if I can’t throw any long bombs in this weather, I’ve gotta do something to make myself stand out.
    Now we’re in the guys’ locker room, and since we’re winning, Coach doesn’t have to