The Lifeguard

You pedal your beach cruiser down the sandy concrete trail, weaving expertly between the amateur rollerbladers and joggers. The accomplished 'bladers are easily as fast as you, and that's pretty fast considering what a hurry you're in: Your sister's getting married at the La Jolla Cove, a simple ceremony overlooking the ocean, and you have just enough time to get there if you hurry. If you miss it she'll never talk to you again! The blue and white of breaking waves is a peripheral blur on your right as you speed past clumps of chatty tourists, locals in their tight black wetsuits, and countless beach Bettys wearing the requisite string bikini tops. You ease around a romantic couple holding hands. Suddenly you glimpse festive orange dead ahead, a tiny training-wheel kid's bike with a little girl in braids obliviously moving to intercept you. There's no way around, and no time: you collide even as you apply brakes with white-knuckled hands.

The smaller bike clatters to the pavement, accompanied by a terrified yelp. Your own ride tips over to the right and you feel the white hot pressure of tiny rocks and cement filing the skin from your knee. You feel like yelping yourself, but you're too concerned about the little kid. You clamber out from under your cruiser, whipping your head about. Where is she? You hear her before you see her: a steadily escalating wail.

There she is with an older boy of around eight years, who scowls and tries unsuccessfully to comfort her. He saves his darkest scowl for you as you approach. He tries to tug his sister and the small bike away simultaneously, but the girl sits down and refuses to move, crying her eyes out.

Choose

A) You'll be late to the wedding; the brat's parents would probably try to sue you anyway if you stick around--you're outta there.

B) You've got to make sure she's okay, at least.

C) You feel terrible remorse and must make immediate, meaningful amends.