Read the following context and choose the correct option to answer the question. Context: Oh, yes, I accidentally insulted a bully. It was awesome. This was about a month ago. It was the last day I worked. Memorial Day at the city rec center is SLOW, especially when it's beautiful outside, but for some reason, we had two front desk attendants: me, and “bully #1”. Bully #1 clearly had a major distaste for me. She hated my tattoos, the way I would get into a heated debate one day with a police officer patron, then have a fantastic conversation with him days later about legalizing marijuana. She hated that I was liked, but still could give fuck-all about what others thought of me. Bully #2 was our financial director, who got stuck as the manager on duty that day. I honestly never had a clue she didn't like me. She was intense and sarcastic with everyone. I liked her style. On this day, I really got the feeling they were trash talking me pretty hard, the way they kept disappearing, talking over me, laughing like mean girls. I blew it off, because I was down an internet rabbit hole, trying to wrap my brain around some concepts. I was looking at a word, and while I like to think I know exact definitions, sometimes I ask people their take on it. Many psychological terms have some subjective meaning. I spun around in my chair, locked eyes with #2, and asked her: “What do you know about Machiavellianism?” I swear to God, all I wanted was her take on it (she's a smart cookie), and all hell broke loose. I now realize that she thought I was passive-aggressively accusing her of said word. They got really nasty (behind my back, of course). They retreated to the back for awhile, and left me by myself. Cue loud, mean girl laughter. When #1 resumed her post next to me at the front desk, I calmly told her, “I'm cashing out, and leaving. I'm uncomfortable.” And I did. It was noon. We were closing at 1. I figured those bitches could handle it on their own. Question: The writer locked eyes: Options: - about a month ago - on Memorial Day - after spinning around - not enough information
after spinning around
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Read the following context and choose the correct option to answer the question. Context: Marnie Sleightholme was well chuffed when she got the chance to be carnival queen, and she couldn't give a shit if it was true what folk were saying about her only getting picked because she'd had her right arm ripped off. Ever since the accident, Deborah Bullock had been using twice as much make-up to disguise her rage. Marnie being picked as carnival queen had only made her pile it on even thicker. Deborah Bullock told anyone who would listen how it was a complete piss-take to give the job to a cripple. 'Imagine getting a wedding cake covered in frosty decorations and shit like that, but it's already got a big chunk bitten out of it. Well, that's exactly how it is.' Deborah Bullock had dreamed of being carnival queen since more or less the start of primary school. She used to tear their pictures out of the newspaper and dress up to look like them, and tell Marnie she never could because she was too fat and ugly even to pretend. It was Deborah Bullock's on-off boyfriend who'd been driving the car Marnie had been sitting in when it veered off the road and crashed into a tree halfway down Back South Lane. It was pointless trying to hide the truth. There was only one reason anybody went down Back South Lane at that time of night, and the flashing blue lights illuminated the exact location for the whole town to see. When Marnie came round in a hospital bed, the first face she saw was Deborah Bullock's. She felt an ache in her side and blinked her eyes. The room was bare and cold. There was an empty chair in the corner. Deborah Bullock slapped some cheap flowers down on the bed and leaned in. She smelled of talcum powder and nicotine. 'Do you want the good news or the bad news? The good news is you've finally lost some weight. The bad news is, they've chopped your right arm off. So you're still a fat bitch.' Question: Who visited Marnie in the hospital? Options: - Marnie's mom - not enough information - Deborah - Deborah's boyfriend
Deborah
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Read the following context and choose the correct option to answer the question. Context: It was a nice summer evening. A cool breeze blowing. Birds singing. Leaves rustling. The waters of the pool shining, shimmering in the sunlight. I was sitting on the steps of the pool, my legs submerged in water.Those blue depths were irrestisible. I inched a bit further in. Water to my waist… a little more…. closer to the blue…..just a little more…water to my chest… yes, keep going…a bit more…water to my neck….almost there….the blue gaze of those depths held me in awe…oh my..so beaut- — Going up a sort of endless escalator. I can't see very well what's in front of me. It's all very dark. I can sense someone behind me, but I dare not look back. For some reason I cannot see my feet. In fact, I cannot see any of me at all. It feels very strange and …well,creepy! I want to whistle, to kinda comfort myself, but it feels like I've lost the ability to speak. My mind just doesn't know how to carry out this desire to speak. It feels unnatural….. That someone behind me pokes me in my(invisible) back. Its'(his/her?) touch is strangely warm, then icy. I still don't look back….yes, that's the key, don't look back. It's a test. Just don't look back and you'll- — Snap! Back into the pool, panting. Everything is blurry. There are people gathered around the pool, screaming. A hand extends toward me. I reach for it…. — Well, I'd love to tell you what happened after that, but the thing is, I don't even know myself. For just at that precise moment, my wretched alarm decided to beep-beep. And I never got to see the ending! — Wait, did you mean “went to the other side” in reality? Don't be ridiculous! Question: How do they feel when someone pokes them from behind? Options: - afraid - not enough information - thrilled - depressed

afraid
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