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Welcome to the MultiverseWilliam James. He didn't belong there, down on that practice field. He knewit and so did everyone else, including the coaches. Mostly this was known becausehe was a freshman and had never before played football, plus he was veryunathletic. He had been proving this last point to everyone the past week and ahalf during summer training, as he failed at even the most basic of tasks. Hewouldnt be in school for another three weeks and he was already paying for it.
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 You see, this school that he wanted to go to, it cost a considerable amount morethan a public education system. He wanted to go here of course because thats
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 where all his friends were going. All both of them. In order to go to theexpensive school, however, he had to be a pawn for his parents to live vicariouslythrough, and because his dad more than anything missed football, thats what
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 William would do.The next day, 8 am ish, at the school again and standing in front of thelocker room door, William just stared at it. You know that feeling where you knowno one would miss you if you werent present? yeah, so does William. Actually even
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 more than that, he thought, they would probably all be a bit happier if he wasnt
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 cramping their space. All these jocks wanted to be here. William did not want to.Not because he hated football, he liked it as much as the next guy, but because hedidnt choose to be on the team for himself. And, being that he was a teenager, he
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 resented doing something that he didnt want to do. William had a choice; he could
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 walk through that door and start taking this more serious, maybe force himself tolike it and see what he can do, or he could turn and leave, just skip practiceuntil he eventually got cut from the team. He wanted to try both.He grasped the handle, turned it down and to the left, and walked in. Heslunk over to where the other nothing freshmen were and looked for his locker. Hedidnt know it by number, because it was missing the number, so he just memorized
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 the rust design that covered the edges of the door. He came to a stop in front ofthe rust arrangement he recognized and got his crap out. One of the more confidentfreshman guys was pumping up the others, or trying perhaps, by stringingmeaningless phrases , yells, grunts and motions together. He yelled to Williamtoo, calling him James because he was too cool for first names, as were most all
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 of the football players. Woot, William thought.Suddenly, but not to his complete surprise, he was outside. The last of thefreshman had just been dropped off and went into the school. He had been waitingfor the coast to be clear with a concerned face on and pretending to talk on thephone. He did this so that no one would suspect what he was planning and maybewould infer that he was going to have to leave, or something. Maybe something waswrong and whoever William was talking to would have to pick him up soon. Whetherhis fellow footballers made any such inference at all, it didnt matter, as soon
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 as they went inside William booked it to the corner of the school. He ran aroundthe side and toward the sidewalk. Not really sure where he would go yet, butknowing he didnt want to be in that locker room, where he was now putting on his
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 cleats and padding.After he was dressed he slowly made his way to the door with the otherfreshmen and followed the upper classmen to the practice field of dirt and deadgrass. He could feel himself still running down the sidewalk farther from theschool and off to do whatever he wanted as he stepped onto the field about tostretch and do everything he didnt want to.
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While running down the sidewalk William felt a certain triumph. The kind oftriumph one feels when they reject something they have been forced into. He didfeel bad for himself, down on that field dancing around back and forth in lines ofstretching and whatnot. As he ran he turned his head back a bit and glanced at theschool one more time which caused him to trip and fall to his hands and knees onthe concrete. He laughed the pain off and smiled big at what he was doing. hecouldnt believe he was ditching like this, it wasnt like him to disobey.
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Back on the field he was let down a bit from his triumph high. He still felt
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