Looking at the hard, plaster cast that extended from her hand to her shoulder, Jillian groaned for the billionth time. She couldn't believe that—in a split second—she had broken her arm in two places and had ruined her chances of becoming the leading scorer on the girls' varsity basketball team. She thought back to the moment that had led to her current situation. What seemed at the time as a snappy solution quickly snowballed into a catastrophe. Jillian sat on her bedroom floor organizing notebooks, folders, and textbooks. She had designated a color to each class—yellow for Accelerated Geometry, green for Chemistry I, orange for American Government, and so on. Jillian always joked that she was only good at two things: organization and basketball. Jillian's mother even teased her daughter about the military precision with which she performed everyday tasks such as making her bed and ironing her clothes. "A place for everything and everything in its place," Jillian always said. In her bedroom, that meant books on the bookshelf, clothes in the closet, and blankets neatly tucked beneath the corners of her mattress. On the basketball court, that meant Jillian poised to make a free throw or a three-pointer at the buzzer. Jillian glanced at the clock and realized that she would have to hurry to meet her best friend, Vanessa, at the park. She stacked the rainbow of books on her desk and grabbed her sneakers. Suddenly, a light bulb above Jillian flickered a few times and went dark. Jillian checked the clock again and decided that she had to time to change the bulb before she left. She grabbed a new bulb and rolled her desk chair under the light. She unscrewed the old bulb and replaced it with a new one. As she was about to step down, the chair rolled ever so slightly and Jillian lost her balance. She collapsed to the floor with a loud thud, the full weight of her body landing on her right arm. She lay there, whimpering in pain, as her mother raced to her rescue. Four hours, five X-rays, and one heavy plaster cast later, Jillian returned to her house discouraged, disappointed, and disheartened. Jillian sighed as she picked up the phone. She did not want to make this call. The line rang several times before Jillian's basketball coach, Coach Muenster, answered. Jillian explained the situation and informed Coach that between healing time and physical therapy, she would be unable to play for the entire season. Coach tried to sound supportive and encouraging, but Jillian knew that in her mind she was already reworking the entire offense of the team without one of her star athletes. Nonetheless, she invited Jillian to attend practices to lend moral support to the team. The following Monday, Jillian changed into her practice uniform and took her place on the wooden bench. Jillian couldn't help but feel jealous when the girls took to the court without her. As she sat there, however, she became engrossed in the girls' movements—a bobbled pass here, a missed block there, an incredible steal. She quickly created a chart, jotting notes about each of her teammates' passes, points, free throws, fouls, and so on in the blocks. Jillian was so focused that she didn't notice Coach Muenster studying the impressive notes over her shoulder. At the end of practice, when the team huddled for a pep talk, Coach Muenster made a surprise announcement: "I think it's obvious to everyone that Jillian will be out for the season," she said, pointing to Jillian's cast, "but that doesn't mean that she can't be a pivotal part of this team. Until she regains full use of her arm, Jillian will assist me as team manager." She turned to Jillian. "Jillian, let's hear some of those notes." What literary device does this story utilize?
A)plot
B)setting
C)flashback
D)foreshadowing