Taking the SAT’s

Anna was good at lying to herself.

When she was six years old, she absolutely detested broccoli. She could not stand the way the
earthy, slightly bitter flavor coated her tongue, and the way her mother boiled the vegetable until
it was limp and soggy bothered her to no end. But Anna could not toss her broccoli to the dog
under the table like usual. Her mother, who walks the dog every morning, has noticed little flecks
of green in his poop, and with a determination to fix both her daughter and her dog’s diet,
demanded that Anna finish all her food before getting up from the dining table. Anna cried deep
inside of course. Her trusted sidekick, Charlie, was currently tied to his leash outside, and as time
passed, the 7 o’clock showing of her favorite cartoon was coming closer.

‘What should I do?’ Anna thought, poking at her plate dejectedly with a fork. Should she wrap
the broccoli up with a napkin and throw it away later? No, her mother was close by, and she’d
probably check the trash can. Should she rebel and refuse to eat what was on her plate? No, she
was a brave little girl, but she wasn’t foolish. Her mother would not tolerate her attitude.

Anna sat at the dinner table and waited, until her eyes caught sight of the clock on the wall. The
little hand was close to the 7, and the big hand was close to the 12.

“Oh no…” she sighed. Time was running out, and the broccoli on her plate had not been
touched. Anna then realized she had no choice. Gripping her fork with her right hand, she took a
deep breath and stabbed her utensil into one of the tiny tree-like vegetables on her plate.

“It tastes like chicken nuggets. Just like chicken nuggets.” she whispered to herself, bringing the
fork to her lips. Then with slight hesitation, she stuffed the broccoli into her mouth. It did not
taste like chicken nuggets. The repulsive flavor hit her taste buds like a warhead, and Anna felt
the need to gag. But she didn’t. Instead, she continuously thought about the texture and taste of
chicken nuggets as she swallowed the broccoli, and 2 minutes later the food on her plate was
gone.

“Anna, are you all done?” her mother asked, entering the dining room to check on her daughter’s
progress.

“Yes, ma!” Anna replied back, lifting her plate off the table to show her mother. Anna’s mother,
with a proud and satisfied look on her face, excused the child from the table and allowed her to
turn on the tv to watch her cartoon. Anna was victorious that day. Using the power of her
imagination, she conquered her hatred of broccoli and beat the clock. But unlike that time 10
years ago, Anna could not lie about what she was experiencing now. Because it was more than a
mental battle. This time, it was a physical one.

Anna could feel her heart beating fast as she sat quietly at her desk. Her hands had started feeling
clammy, her stomach was forming knots inside, and she was sure that her body was producing
15% more cortisol than usual. All these things typically happened whenever she was going
through testing anxiety. And today, she felt worse than ever because she was taking the SAT, a
test whose score would help determine what colleges she gets accepted into.

“Class, listen up!” Ms. Andrews, the homeroom teacher demanded. “We will begin testing in less
than 15 minutes! If you have to use the restroom, I suggest you do so right now. Please make
sure to turn all cell phones off, and place them in your bookbags in the back of the classroom.”
Students quickly snatched their cellular devices out of their pockets and rushed to place them in
their bags. However, since Anna had already done so, she stayed in her seat, nervously wiping
her hands along her thighs.

‘Hey Anna!” her friend Janine whispered softly. “Are you ok?”

Anna turned her body slightly to her right and looked at Janine. “Honestly?” she replied back. “I
don’t know. I think I’m going to be sick.”

“You’re telling me! I’ve been feeling nauseous all morning. I tried to calm down by doing the
breathing exercises my sister taught me, but I’m too worried about whether or not I’ll be able to
properly read the questions.” Janine has spent the past few years of her school life struggling to
read. At first, she can process the words just fine, but then letters like b and d switch inside her
brain, and the sentences she’s reading become confusing. A few of her teachers have suspected
Janine of having dyslexia, but without her being officially diagnosed, all they could do was give
her words of encouragement and suggest tutoring.

“Aw, Jay…” Anna said, patting her friend on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. But hey, maybe if we both
fail, we can pay to take the test again together.”

“Can’t. It’s about $47.50 for the primary test and $64.50 to take the regular test with the essay.
Plus, it cost $26.00 to even register for the test. My family can’t afford that.”

“Really? Mine can.” A snarky voice interected. Anna and Janine turned around to see Micheal,
their intelligent but highly annoying classmate speaking to them.
“Who asked you?” Janine snapped at him, narrowing her eyes to show her displeasure.

“What? I’m just saying. My family can afford to have me take the test as many times as I need
to. Plus, they pay for me to have the best tutors and textbooks.” Micheal never missed an
opportunity to brag about his family’s wealth. His father was an attorney and his mother owned
her own clothing brand, so unlike Micheal’s classmates who came from lower income families,
he was used to a life of luxuries and being able to afford multiple learning resources.

“Then why are you here weirdo? There’s no point in you taking the SAT’s anyway, since
colleges are more likely to admit wealthy guys like you than Anna and I.”

“Well I still need the experience, no?” Micheal asked, a teasing grin forming on his face.
“Besides, I haven’t been cramming and memorizing the study material for no reason.”

“All those wonderful tutors and your cramming? Don’t you know that statistically, students who
take a pre-test before the actual test memorize 60% of the stuff, while those who only study
remember 40%? You were better off doing what I did.” Anna stated, shaking her head.

“Uh-huh, yeah. That’s why you look like you’re about to blow chunks all over the classroom.”

Anna rolled her eyes and turned back to Janine. “I hope I score above 1200.”

“And I hope I get a score above zero.” Janine jokes, though the look in her eyes is quite serious.

“All right class, silence!” Ms. Andrews yells. “I’m about to administer the tests. Make sure you
have a #2 pencil, and your desks are clear. Is everyone ready?”

There was a mixed response throughout the classroom. Some people said yes, others said no, and
one person even threatened to pass out from nervousness. Anna didn’t give a response at all.
Instead, she prayed silently to herself, and hoped that she would prevail through such a perilous
moment.

It was time for her to begin the SAT’s.