Maya balanced her textbook on her knee and shot the ball. It clanked off the rim and rolled into a stack of gym towels.
She sighed, picked up the ball, and tried again. 'Just one more,' she whispered.
Maya taped a schedule to her locker: Study. Practice. Sleep. But the basketball kept escaping her bag.
Each night, she heard the thump-thump of the ball rolling across the court.
Night after night, she studied under a desk lamp, then ran laps around the arena.
Her eyelids grew heavy, but she splashed cold water on her face and kept going.
Maya's name was called. She walked to the stage, but her foot caught on the carpet edge and she stumbled.
She grinned as the audience laughed, then accepted the heavy, cool trophy from the principal.