Jaxson was used to being left behind. First, it was his father. When Jax's mom was pregnant with him, Jax's father cheated on her and got some other chick pregnant. Once Jaxson was born, his father left to go live with the other girl. Once Jax was six, his mom remarried, and had no time for Jaxson, therefore she left him behind too, in a way. His brother left for the army, leaving Jax behind for the third time. Now, Jaxson was being left behind again, but by his stepfather's rusty red pickup truck. It had taken two days to drive from Texas to North Dakota, but they had managed.
The boy was average height, and his hair was a dark shade of chestnut brown. It was spiky and short, and Jax wore a white muscle tee and faded blue jeans. His muscles strained against his skin, making his arms look sturdy and strong, and a swirly tattoo was inked on his left shoulder. The fifteen year old's carmel brown eyes scanned the area around him for someone who could tell him where to go. "Hey, excuse me, could you tell me where to go?" Jax asked as he put out a hand to stop someone who was walking by. White rings rippled down Jax's hands....it was a habit that happened when he was nervous. The white rings were sound waves, but they made no noise.
