Peter and Me

Peter had challenged me to a race. I couldn't decline, even though I knew he was bigger, older, and faster than me.
"On your mark, get set...go!"
I sprinted as fast as my little legs could take me, but it wasn't fast enough to beat Peter. I didn't want to feel the shame of losing, and malice took over me. I leaped forward and stuck out my right leg right in front of Peter, causing him to tumble face first onto the dirty pavement and cry out. Suddenly, I felt guilty and ran back to him.
"Sorry! Sorry! Are you okay??"
I could tell he was crying but he covered his face and ran towards his house. I went inside and sat on my couch. My mother asked why I looked so glum, but I didn't reply.
Hours later, I returned outside and met up with Peter, who now had a band-aid on his tiny snout of a nose. I tried not to laugh, and I knew I should apologize, but I didn't feel like submissing to him, so I just said, "Hey. So, you don't want to race again I bet." He glared at me, and I had to burst out laughing. His large brown eyes and freckles against the unnecessarily large bandage and the smug expression on his face looked like something from a comedy show.