In high school I was on the track team. One of my best friends named Ana and I were the top two girls high jumpers on the team. We had so much fun together at all of the meets and the practices. One day at practice, Ana hurt her ankle. We had a meet in a couple of days and she really didn't want to miss it. The head track coach, who was also Ana's mom, knew that Ana had injured herself but she didn't know how bad it was. Coach O. asked me to please tell her if Ana complained about the pain during practice. I didn't know what to do. I knew that Ana's injury was far worse than what she showed because she told me how bad it hurt to jump. I also knew that if she kept jumping off of it, it would only get worse. At the same time, however, I knew that she really didn't want to miss the meet that week and, to be honest, I didn't want her to either because we really pushed each other. After practice that day Ana and I were in the training room and Coach O. asked me if Ana had complained about her ankle during practice. I ended up telling her that Ana had told me how bad the injury was, but it was really hard for me. I didn't want to make it so that Ana wouldn't be able to compete, but I knew that if she did compete, her ankle would just get worse. Ana didn't compete in that meet, but it was good that she didn't because she was able to heal in time for districts and state.
In this particular situation, telling the truth ended up being for the best. I know that sometimes though, being honest with someone may be hurtful to them.

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