Competition Day

I am a very competitive person. I dominate family game night. I terrorize the other team on the soccer field. No one can beat me in basketball. My eye is on one more title, though. Most competitive person in Mrs. Miller’s sixth grade class. There’s only one person standing in my way. Carter Andrews.

Carter and I have been friends since first grade. I don’t know anyone who’s more competitive. So we made a deal as we walked into class one day. All day, we’d compete. In everything. When school ends, whoever won the most would be crowned the most competitive person.

I started off strong when Mrs. Miller passed back last week’s spelling test and I got a better grade. Carter pulled ahead by answering more questions correctly in math class. In science, Mrs. Miller complimented his project. At recess, I outran him in a footrace. As I walked into lunch, however, my friend Catelyn stopped me.

“I think you’re going about this the wrong way,” she tells me. “You and Carter used to be friends, before you started competing with each other. You’re taking this too far.” I shrug off her concern. Taking it too far? Never!

By last period, we were even. It was gym class. Dodgeball. His team was tied with mine, and the bell would ring any minute to signal the end of class. I threw dodgeball after dodgeball, but Carter dodged every one. I glanced at Catelyn, who was stuck on the sidelines after getting hit. She shakes her head slightly as I meet her gaze. I recalled our conversation from earlier.

Regret washed over me. Competition is supposed to be fun. All day, I’d felt nothing but scared of losing. But is losing that bad? A dodgeball sailed into me, interrupting my train of thought. Seconds later, the bell rang. Carter had won. Out in the hall, he stopped me.

“You could’ve dodged that. Why didn’t you?”

“I realized that this whole competition was silly. It stopped us from being friends.”

“Yeah, I guess. Sorry. Friends?” he asked, hopefully.

“Friends,” I agreed, smiling.