Making the Team/The Start
It was a typical sunny Saturday morning in the Wheeler household. The patriarch of the family, James Wheeler, took great pride in the fact that he could manage to enjoy at least one breakfast together with his whole family, despite the fact that his wife was usually always on the phone or in her office and his children all had their own interests and of course school and friends and all the other things kids these days were up to. This weekly Saturday morning ritual was important for him and he was a firm believer that it was important for the other members of the family as well. There were no phones or laptops or i-pods or any other technical gadgets allowed at the breakfast table, ensuring that the members of the family would talk with each other and not just sit there and eat.
Still, as soon as breakfast was finished, all went their separate ways again, his wife once more grabbing her phone and her keys and all but storming out the door, his oldest daughter hogging a spot on the couch and tipping away on her phone and his two youngest making a ruckus somewhere. But this tale isn't about James, despite him being an all around friendly and jovial guy and sometimes even great dad, this tale is about his son Michael, usually called Mike.
You are Mike.
That means you are a 15 year old freshman at the local high-school, not yet member of any specific clique and friendly with most of the school. You casually enjoy comics and videogames, but you are not crazy about them. You are an athlete and despite not being the biggest or fastest or strongest, you have always been a solid member of your school's football team. However, that was in middle-school, now you're in high-school. And you are only 15, making your spot on the team rather unlikely. But you not only enjoy sports, you know that it would be good for your popularity as well. It would be a win-win for you, so you hope for the best.
If one would look into your room right now, they would see an athletic if somewhat long-limbed teen sitting in front of his computer, sporting dark brown hair and somewhat decently tanned skin. You're not exactly a model, nor butt-ugly, you would call yourself a somewhat less handsome and less old Hugh Jackman. If Hugh Jackman had brown hair and a slimmer face.
At the moment you are wearing a simple, old t-shirt with Wolverine on it (as previously mentioned, you like comics), and nondescript grey pants you would never wear outside the house. Just like the shirt by the way, that would be social suicide. But they're comfy and perfect for browsing the net, lounging around at home and grabbing your meat once your mind begins to wander into sexual territory. And that happens often, after all, you are a fifteen year old boy whose only sexual experience so far has been a sloppy kiss at the end of middle-school from one of your female classmates. You would have loved to went further, but the option never presented itself.
You are about to stand up and lock the door, so you can beat your meat to some video or that, when your cellphone rings. You grab it and see that someone has written you a SMS. Could be one of your friends, perhaps wishing to hang out at the mall and trying to get a look up some girl's skirt, but as you open it you notice that the message is not from one of your friends. It is from Jesse, quarterback and captain of your high-school's football team. "Come over. Bring your sister."
For a second you stare at the message, then you make a decision.
- You ask your 18 year old sister Jodie if she can come with you. Request--Green (talk) 23:29, 28 January 2021 (UTC)
- You ask your 9 year old sister Mary if she can come with you
- You ask your 7 year old sister Stacy if she can come with you
- You don't think that it's a good idea. Go over alone
- You don't go at all
Or...