With a sigh, Hayley Williams tapped her foot impatiently, anxious for her mother to arrive. It would be at least another fifteen minutes, she knew, but couldn’t help it just the same.
       If only her family hadn’t been hit by that careless teenage driver. If he hadn’t been late for curfew, he wouldn’t have been speeding and if he hadn’t been speeding, he wouldn’t have hit them and if he hadn’t hit them, she would be playing basketball and her parents wouldn’t be so overprotective and paranoid.
       As she watched other teenagers walk out to their cars and slowly leave the parking lot, past thoughts raced back through her head…

       Snow had been falling, adding to the layers of snow that already blanketed everything. Carefully, Mr. Williams had prepared to turn the corner. As he had done so, a strange car appeared from nowhere, barreling down the rode right for them.
       The steering wheel was spun, hoping to avoid a collision, but the other vehicle had already hit and was throwing them over the road’s edge. Shattering glass was mixed with squealing breaks, as the Williams’ Blazer slammed into a telephone pole. Hayley’s view grew black as a strange pain climbed her leg. The last thing she heard before drifting into unconsciousness was the distant wail of sirens…

       A gust of wind rushed past, disturbing the papers in her hand. “Try-outs” she read, bringing herself back to the present. “Mom won’t be here for another few minutes.” Hayley turned around and hurried back to the gym, snatching a pen from the table. But before it touched the list, her conscience kicked in.
       “You’re going to play basketball,” Hayley assured herself, flushing with shame as she exited the gym. There just has to be another way.
 

       “Is there something I can help you with, Annie?” Mrs. Jennings asked, looking up as her student burst into the classroom.
       “I uh,” Annie flushed a little. “I um, well, it’s about that assignment, due on Friday. I’ve been thinking about it since Tuesday and I…I haven’t thought of anything to write about—not anything—and well, I was wondering if,” she hesitated. “Please, could I possibly have an extension?”
       Mrs. Jennings smiled at Annie’s gumption. “Because Friday is still four days away, I won’t give you an extension. But I will make a suggestion. So far, you’ve made up some wonderful stories. Once in awhile, though, it doesn’t hurt to try writing about something that has happened to you or even someone around you—especially when you’re dealing with writer’s block. I can assure you, you’ll find a great many things to write about,” she chuckled.
       Annie pulled her brows together in thought, and after mumbling thanks, took a seat. It wasn’t exactly what she’d been looking for, but it was a start.
 

       If Hayley was going to speak to her parents, now would be as good a time as any. Pulling on a sweatshirt, she trotted down the stairs, across the yard and into the barn.
       “Mom, can I play basketball?” She asked, finding her mother in the office. This was no time for procrastination and the sooner it was out, the better.
       Without missing a beat, Mrs. Williams replied, “Hayley, we’ve been through this before. No, you may not play basketball.”
       “But—”
       “No buts.”
       Feeling defeated, she turned to leave—but then turned back and tried again. Even after a dramatic five-minute speech, her mother’s answer remained the same. With a muffled groan, Hayley left, wondering if ‘no’ would be the only answer she ever received.
 

       Annie tapped the pencil against her forehead, running Mrs. Jennings’ advice through her head. “Hmm… The Three Little Pigs,” she mused, spotting the picture she’d drawn of them back in kindergarten. Annie stared at the ceiling in thought.
       Half an hour later, when Mrs. Bracken brought up Annie’s backpack, she noticed her busy with something. Curious, she asked what.
       “Finishing my story,” Annie smiled proudly.
       “What…did you…decide to write about?” she asked again.
       “The Three Little Horses,” Annie shrugged.
       Mrs. Bracken shook her head. “That wouldn’t by any chance be…?”
       “Yep, The Three Little Pigs.  I changed the pigs and changed what the houses were made out of and I changed some other stuff.” As she explained what she’d done, Annie didn’t realize that she could be sent to jail for doing so.
       “Annie…darling,” Mrs. Bracken patted her daughter’s shoulder. “The Three Little Pigs is someone else’s story and if you copy it, well, than you’ve committed plagiarism and that’s…illegal.”
       With a groan, Annie banged her head on the desk. “So I can’t do The Three Little Horses.” It was more a statement than a question. Crumpling the paper in a tight wad, she tossed it into the trash, knowing it brought her right back to square one.
 

       “Hi, Annie,” Hayley greeted her the next day. Despite being quiet and keeping pretty much to herself, she and Annie had quickly become friends after meeting four years ago. “Any progress with your assignment?”
       “No,” Annie grimaced ruefully. “I tried something, but it didn’t exactly turn out. ” She didn’t bother to mention almost being sent to jail. Well, okay, so she wasn’t really almost sent to jail, but…
       Keeping up with each other, they walked to the gym. Hayley enjoyed watching, although the more she did, the more she itched to get out and play with them.
       If only mom and dad would change their minds, she murmured wistfully as the girls started to spread around the court.
       When practice was over, Annie checked one more time before leaving to make sure Hayley didn’t want her to wait.
       “No, that’s okay, I need to—” Hayley paused, trying to think of something. “I need to stop at the bathroom…um, yeah, the bathroom. I need to stop at the bathroom,” she nodded her head, giving Annie a smile.
       “Okay, see you tomorrow then,” she waved again and hurried from the gym. When she walked in the front door after finally getting home, she could hear her desk chair and paper beckoning to her. I’m going to get this done, even if it takes me until Christmas, she muttered, tromping up the stairs. “Hey, Ben.” She walked to her room. “Wait a minute!” Annie stopped short. “Ben, that’s it! He’s an interesting little person.” There were plenty of stories she could tell about him--Like when he was two and had fallen asleep in his birthday cake, or the time he’d decided to be a hairdresser and cut Max, their Golden Retriever’s hair, leaving behind short, uneven patches. Needless to say, that had ended Ben’s childhood career in hairdressing.
       The time he dropped the nickel down the sink while pretending it was a wishing well... How could I forget? It clogged up the drain for a week! That’s perfect… And it’s not something that every little kid does.
       When she finished a half an hour later, Annie trotted down the stairs and into the kitchen. “Well, Annie, it’s very good,” Mrs. Bracken told her after reading the story. After pointing out a few corrections, she handed back. As Annie turned to leave her little brother Ben, stomped in.
       “That’s my story and no one can use it,” he said firmly, scowling like any six-year-old would. Pointing a finger at himself, Ben grabbed the paper and within seconds, was struggling to hold the ripped contents in his small hand. With a scowl, he marched out, grumping to himself on the way. Annie’s mouth dropped open but she was too surprised to be angry.
       “He just…tore up my paper.”
 

        Gazing around the gym, Hayley made sure it was safe before walking over and taking a ball from the ball rack. After dribbling it a couple of times, she aimed, and threw. The basketball reached its intended target and after riding around the rim, fell through the hoop.
        Around the world, she announced quietly, trying to hide her smile as she prepared to shoot a second time. Again, the ball rode around and rolled in. For awhile longer Hayley played, shooting from various places on the court. As she collected the ball to put it away, Coach Miller spoke, making her jump.
       “I didn’t…know you were here,” she swallowed, eyes wide.
       “Why didn’t you sign up for the team? The Thomas Mason Tigers could use a bit of a boost,” Coach Miller leaned in. “They’re a great bunch of girls, but, they just haven’t quite gotten the hang of it yet.” she smiled.
       Hayley smiled, but then looked down. “I want to play, but my parents wouldn’t let me—and if they would, there’s no room left on the team.”
       Coach Miller tilted her head in thought. “Do you think there’s anyway your parents would let you play? If there was room left on the team? We had three girls drop out at the last minute, leaving us one under the minimum for a competing team.”
       Hayley shrugged. “I don’t know. They’ve been telling me no for the past two and a half years and I’m not sure if they’d change their minds now, or not.”
       “Maybe…if someone talked to them?” Coach Miller raised a brow as a slow smile inched over her mouth.
 

       Out went another line. This was not working and Annie was about to go crazy because of it. “I tried for an extension, I did The Three Little Horses, I did the ‘wishing well’ and none of them have worked. Maybe I should plead for good effort,” she mumbled, wadding up another piece of paper. “There are so many problems with so few solutions!”
       Suddenly, Ben shouted from the hall, pulling Annie from her desk. She poked her head out the door just in time to catch him slide down the stairs on his ‘surfboard’—made of cardboard and duck tape. A smile wreathed his face as he picked it up, and pounded back up the stairs to try it again.  Remember when you… she asked her herself.  Now this is what I call perfect… Annie smiled, returning to her desk to write—hopefully for the last time.