My heart pounds as I drop my head and clutch my legs tightly. In a few seconds, my knuckles have turned white. My face was burning from embarrassment and fear, and without even looking up, I could feel everyone's eyes obnoxiously glancing my way.  

 Today marks the fifth time that I have beaten Janice this year at table tennis. I was beyond proud of myself, but as I stepped out of the court, Janice’s father was pointing at me and calling me a “cheater.” 

My first instinct was to look at Janice, but she had her head bowed down and was crying. My mind was racing with thoughts. “Why can’t her dad just accept the loss without causing a scene? Is he purposely trying to mess with my confidence so I will not perform my best in my next match?” 

I came alone to this tournament; my parents are 3,000 miles away. There was no one there to comfort me or stand up for me. I was by myself, facing the crazy parent. Just then, a warm hand tapped me on my shoulder. I reluctantly looked up as tears streamed down my face. The person who tapped me was Janice. 

I glared at her and literally spat at her to leave me alone. I expected her to start crying again and go back to her father to tattletell on me. Instead, she sat down where I was without saying anything. After a few moments of silence, she let out a big sigh and apologized for her father’s rude behavior. At this point, her father was being surrounded by parents pulling him away, but he was still screaming. 

Janice glanced towards where I was looking. She carefully got up and pulled me away from the scene. As we were walking, I turned my head around to make eye contact with her father. He caught me staring and his eyes immediately shot daggers at me and at his daughter for guiding me away from him. Without hesitating, I gave him a big, smirky smile and walked away, making sure that I had my head held high.