A school talent show would be held three weeks later. I told my best friend, Tina, the news. My older brother had been teaching me juggling（玩杂耍）, and I knew he’d help me with my act for the show. Tina ran over to the noticeboard and read the poster. But when Tina asked me what our act was going to be, I didn’t know how to speak up for myself. I held on to my books tightly. Tina laughed and pointed to the poster. It said acts can be individuals, partners, or small groups. My grip（紧握）on my books now became uncomfortable. I asked Tina if she wanted to do an act with me. She nodded. I hesitated for a second before continuing. “I’ve got an idea and …” Tina interrupted me immediately. “Yeah, me too; let’s talk about it over lunch.”

During math, I tried to think of how I would tell Tina that I wanted to do my own act. After all, we were best friends; we should be able to see eye to eye about this. The problem was Tina always took charge. I never spoke up, and then I ended up feeling angry. I desperately wanted to win, but it was more than that. I wanted to win on my own—with an act that was all mine.

At lunch, Tina started talking as soon as we sat down. She had it all planned out. She said we could sing along to a song and do a dance routine, and her mother could make us costumes. However, I got up the courage and told her about my juggling act. Tina said she didn’t think she could learn to juggle in three weeks and that she would probably drop the balls. She didn’t want to be embarrassed. I didn’t say anything, but after school, I ran around the track a couple of times just to let off steam.