Our opponents, the Dewey Pythons, were from a school named after a president who never got elected in my old world. We won the coin toss. Chose to receive instead of kick. Layton and our offense did a few unremarkable plays, and then we punted. Me and the rest of the defensive team went out onto the field.

I was on the field every time the Pythons had the ball. I played well. I played great. I sacked their quarterback twice and made him throw the ball away half a dozen times. But those sacks. Those hits. They weren’t power hits. They weren’t decimating, world-changing tackles. They were competent. They were skilled. They were not what I needed.

By the time we got down to the two-minute warning, I began to panic. There were only going to be a few more plays. I knew what I had to do, and I thought I knew how to do it—but my head was full of so many things now. Not just half a dozen sets of memories, but hopes and fears that were just as conflicted as how I felt when I ran out on the field. All the things I couldn’t get out of my mind. I thought about Paul, and how, if I went back to who I was, we’d be done. He’d be my math tutor, nothing more. Was I ready to lose him? If I did, I’d have feelings for Katie again. What did any of my personal crap matter if I couldn’t set Leo back on the path he deserved, and bring Angela back from the grave? And those flags waving in the stands? People wanted something from me in this reality—people needed something. Was erasing this world cowardly? Was I just running away?

The play began; I lurched through the line. I saw the yellow flag fly from the ref’s hands, heard the whistles, but I didn’t stop. I barreled full force at the quarterback. He didn’t even have the ball yet. It hadn’t even been snapped. I didn’t care. I barreled right into him, bringing him down as hard as I could.

But the only place it took me was the ground.

18

A While Till Yesterday

“This was not your finest day,” the coach said. He was talking to the whole team at our post-game meeting. I wished he’d just go ahead and single me out, and get it over with, but to be honest the whole team sucked on the field today. It wasn’t just me.

“You almost lost to the Pythons! We never lose to the Pythons.” And finally he zeroed in on me. Here it comes. “And you, Bowman, what were you thinking out there?”

Of course I couldn’t tell him what I was thinking. That would get me a one-way trip to a psychiatric evaluation. “I was distracted” was all I said.