My brother Jack was so smart that he earned a full scholarship to Harvard. I often wished he

wasn’t so perfect because it made me feel like I had to work twice as hard just to prove myself to

others. On one hand, his success was a challenge that I enjoyed, but on the other hand, it was an immense pressure that I struggled to cope with.

To balance his record in high school, I felt like I was constantly running on a treadmill (跑步机), dedicating every moment to a non-stop race. There was no room for relaxation as I pursued that

perfect record. My life seemed to be compressed into a series of endless tasks and deadlines.

“I needed an A,” I repeated to myself before the biology test, so that I would maintain my

perfect record and secure a place on the honor roll. I studied till the last minute of lunch and rushed

to class. I felt a sense of confidence as I glanced over the first page of the test, quickly filling in the

answers with a smile. However, as I turned to the last page, my mind went blank. Time ticked by, and

soon, the classroom began to empty as students finished their tests and left, except me. “Lara, class

ended. I need you to hand in your test,” Mrs. Phloem said, stretching out her hand. Reluctantly, I handed her the test paper.

The next day, I received my test back. I stared dumbfounded at the red mark: 76. Not even a B minus, my mind screamed. Just average. It's over. No perfect record. I felt an unprecedented (前所未有的) sense of frustration and disappointment. After school, I dragged my heavy feet back home.

When I pushed open the door, Jack was sitting on the couch, reading. Seeing his leisurely state, I

cried, hard to contain the jealousy and sadness in my heart. Jack immediately noticed the depression

on my face. He asked with concern, “What’s wrong, Lara?” Blinded by frustration mixed with a touch

of jealousy, I shouted at him “How I wish you were not so perfect!”