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biggest fish and which ones did not
know kindling from tinder.  Mandy, however, had not spoken to him since he
told her that he was choosing camping over the dance.  I heard that David
Huggins had asked her, so I supposed she was going to be okay.  I wondered
how their lives would be different, having gone to the
dance together instead of with the dates they chose in the original
timeline.  I would probably never know.
    Life continued rather uneventfully for several
weeks.  I grew accustomed to the normalcy of life and yet, I maintained
constant vigilance for any sign of Branson’s impending disease.
    In the middle of my second month back, I found
myself sitting with my mother and my best friend Sarah on the bleachers of the
soccer field watching Branson’s team getting trounced by their longtime rivals
from across town.  I knew that half of Branson’s teammates were going to
get hurt and that they would lose the game five to seven.  In an attempt
to follow the traveling rules, I chose not to intervene in any way, even
knowing Doug Simms was going to end up breaking three toes, which would keep
him out for the rest of the season.
    As we cheered on our downtrodden team, Sarah and
I chatted about our college preparations.
    “I don’t know what to do about early admission to
Brown,” Sarah said.  “In order to do it, I’d have to back out of
everywhere else and I don’t know if I’m willing to take that chance.  I
wish I had a crystal ball so I would know which school to choose!”
    I smiled at Sarah, knowing that she would choose
early admission to Brown, be accepted, and get a full ride scholarship as
well.  I was Sarah’s crystal ball, but I refused to interfere directly. 
“Will you be disappointed with anything but your first choice?” I asked.
    “Yes,” she admitted.
    “Then there’s your answer,” I said,
smiling. 
    I had forgotten just how much I had missed Sarah
being a part of my life.  We met in sixth grade history class and
initially hated one another.  Her last name was Vanguard and my was
Wallace, so we sat next to one another in every class, thanks to our teachers’
lack of imagination beyond alphabetical order for seating assignments. 
Eventually, after being paired together for every assignment in every class, it
became clear that we would either become friends or kill each other.  We
had been best friends ever since. 
    During Branson’s illness, Sarah sat with me in
the hospital, brought home assignments from school that I missed, and tried
repeatedly to get my mind off my ailing brother by organizing shopping trips
and slumber parties.  After the funeral, Sarah sat at Branson’s gravesite
with me for the rest of the day and well into the night.  But just like
everyone else in my life, I refused to see her as I shut myself off from the
world the summer Branson died.  She left for college in August, and after
several phone calls and messages, she eventually gave up trying to contact
me.  I did not blame her in the slightest.  How could I fault her for
going on with her life even when I could not go on with mine?  I was happy
that she had moved on.  However, I was also happy that we were back
together again in the past, if only for a little while. 
    At halftime, as the team was sitting on the bench
getting what I could only imagine was a tongue lashing from the coach, I
watched as Branson took off his cleat, his sock, and his shin guard and began
scratching furiously at his leg.  I turned to stone.  I had not seen
him attend to his leg in the first timeline.  Either I was too engrossed
in my conversation with Sarah or I just had not paid much attention to what
should have been a meaningless action.  It certainly had meaning to me
now.  The rash had appeared.
    My mother and I waited for Branson after the game
outside the locker rooms.  When he finally emerged, he looked
devastated.  The loss had taken the wind from his sails and he was limping
badly.  I could