(1) Mom always had after-school projects waiting for me. "Can you help decorate cookies?" she'd say. Or, "Go outside and pick some flowers." Or, "Fix my nails, please." She loved to paint them, but since she wasn't coordinated with her left hand, her right-hand nails looked like a preschooler's coloring page.
(2) I guess these projects were chores, but they were fun, too. Now when I come home, I've got to sweep, fold towels, or scrub the bathroom sink. Dad helps, but sometimes he makes a big mess.
(3) Like today. He's got flour, potato skins, and crumpled napkins on the counter. The pot boils over with brown scum. And I don't want to talk to him because I'm still mad about the volleyball game, but I have to know what he's up to.
(4) "What are you doing, Dad?"
(5) "Making dinner. Thought I'd give you a break."
(6) Except for game nights, dinner's my responsibility. I cook while Dad cleans—that's our rule. And even though I don't cook as well as Mom did, Dad never complains.
(7) "What are you going to make?" I ask.
(8) "Came guisada and papas fritas."
(9) "You need a recipe for that?"
(10) "Are you kidding? I need a recipe for peanut butter sandwiches."
(11) How mad can a girl be at a man who makes fun of himself and wears a green frog apron that says KISS THE COOK and tube socks over his hands for potholders?
(12) We clear space on the table. Dinner's served. The beef's tough and the papas are mushy, but who cares? I pretend it's delicious because my dad lets me blabber about the Halloween carnival. He laughs out loud when I describe Vanessa's potato baby and Ms. Cantu's creative cascarones,1 so I don't complain when I notice he served ranch-style beans straight from the can instead of heating them up first.
(13) Everything's great until he asks about my English class.
(14) "Any new vocabulary words?" he wants to know.
(15) "I guess. Maybe. Super . . . super . . . super something. Can't remember."
(16) "Was it supersede?" he asks. "Supercilious? Superfluous?"
(17) "I don't remember, Dad. It could have been super-duper or super-loop for all I care."
(18) He gets sarcasm from his students all the time so he's good at ignoring it.
(19) "Remember that super is a prefix that means 'above and beyond,'" he says. "So no matter what the word is, you can get its meaning if you take it apart."
(20) "Okay, Dad. I get it. So did I tell you we're having a book sale for our next fundraiser?"
(21) "What else are you doing in English?" he asks. "Reading any novels?"
(22) I sigh, bored, but he doesn't get the hint. He just waits for my answer. "Yes," I finally say. "I don't remember the title, but it's got a rabbit on the cover."
(23) "Is it Watership Down? It's got to be Watership Down."
(24) "Yes, that's it. But I left it in my locker. I guess I can't do my homework."
(25) "Nonsense. I've got a copy somewhere. Let me look."
(26) He leaves the table to scan the bookshelves, and all of the sudden, I care about the tough beef, the mushy potatoes, and the cold beans. Why should I eat when my own father has abandoned his food? Nothing's more important than his books and vocabulary words. He might say I matter, but when he goes on a scavenger hunt for a book, I realize that I really don't.
(27) I take my plate to the kitchen, grab my half-finished soda, and head to my room. When I walk past him, he's kneeling to search the lower shelves. He's got a paper towel and wipes it lovingly over the titles as if polishing a sports car. He doesn't hear my angry, stomping footsteps. I catch the last part of his sentence.
(28) ". . . a classic epic journey," he says as if he were in class with a bunch of students. I can't stand it. I just can't stand it. I'd rather have Vanessa's crazy mom.
(29) Later, just as I write I love Luis for the three-hundredth time, my dad peeks through my bedroom door.
(30) "Found my copy of Watership Down," he says, handing me a paperback whose spine's been taped a dozen times. "How far do you have to read tonight?"
(31) "The first four chapters," I say.
(32) "That's a lot. You better get busy."
(33) "Sure, Dad. I'll start reading right away."
(34) But I don't. As soon as he leaves, I put the book on my nightstand and use it as a coaster. The condensation from my soda makes a big, wet circle on the cover.
1cascarones—hollow eggs filled with confetti or toys
From CONFETTI GIRL by Diana Lopez. Copyright © 2009 by Diana Lopez. By permission of Little, Brown, and Company
How do the phrases stormed off, float far, and invisible nothing in paragraph 35 contribute to the tone of the passage?
A
They call attention to the narrator's feelings of guilt and disappointment.
B
They emphasize the narrator's growing sense of hopelessness.
C
They reflect the narrator's escape into comforting daydreams.
D
They highlight the narrator's strong sense of independence.
(b)
Part B
Selecting from paragraphs 32-34 and 36-39, choose the paragraph that most directly reinforces the tone created in paragraph 35.
A
(32) "I was going to try and find some girls my age here in the complex so I wouldn't have to be the new kid in school again," I said, trying to sound believable.
B
(33) "Honey, you can make friends at your new school in the fall. Besides, this is a wonderful opportunity for you."
C
(34) "Opportunity? For me? Or for you?"
D
(35) I stormed off to my room and threw myself onto my bed. I ached inside. Like the feeling you get watching a lost balloon float far into the sky until it becomes an invisible nothing.
E
(36) I reached for a story card and scribbled:
F
(37) Gypsy was sent to prison for stealing the magic ball. And when she was tossed into the dungeon below the castle she found the word "opportunity" written across the stone wall.
G
(38) Staring at the card, I wondered what should happen next. Maybe a daring escape or a sorceress could rescue her. When nothing came to me, I scratched out the word opportunity until it was a big blob of blue ink and tossed the card on the floor.
H
(39) I heard Mom's footsteps coming toward my closed bedroom door. I held my breath, hoping she wouldn't knock.
1 answer
The answer to Part A is B. They emphasize the narrator's growing sense of hopelessness. The phrases "stormed off," "float far," and "invisible nothing" convey a sense of frustration and despair, illustrating the narrator's emotional turmoil and hopelessness regarding their situation.
For Part B, the paragraph that most directly reinforces the tone created in paragraph 35 is C. "Opportunity? For me? Or for you?" This line captures the narrator's resentment and frustration with their circumstances, aligning with the feelings of disappointment and hopelessness expressed in paragraph 35.
