A boy called Daniel was in a group planning a class stall. All the fun jobs got snapped up fast — designing, decorating, being the one who calls people over. The job left over was the dull, fiddly one: keeping track of the money and the stock, the bit no one notices unless it goes wrong. Nobody wanted it. There was an awkward silence, everyone suddenly very interested in their shoes. Daniel didn't especially want it either. But he could see that if nobody took it, the whole stall would be a mess — and he was the only one looking at the gap instead of away from it. He could keep staring at his shoes like everyone else. Or he could say the slightly unglamorous words: "I'll do it."