At first, nothing obviously magical happens at all. No shift, no sparkle, not so much as a slight draft. Th words simply stare up at you from the crisp, white page.
But then your phone rings. It’s a number you don’t recognize, but for some reason it’s already programmed into your phone as “Chad.” Hesitantly, you pick up.
“Dude!” shouts the guy on the other end “Where the hell are you? Practice started half an hour ago! Coach Wheeler is pissed!”
“I… what?” you ask. “Who is this?”
“I don’t have time for this.” says Chad. “Get your ass out here already. I vouched for you, and now Coach is making the rest of us run suicides until you show up.”
“But I…”
“I don’t care. Just do it!”
He hangs up.
You just stare at your phone, dumbfounded. It… it worked. Apparently you’re on the football team now. And you’re late for practice.
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