The exchanges between Jamal and Dre reveal that Jamal and Dre feel resentment towards one another and do not get along. Their interactions are marked by tension and competitive banter, indicating a strained relationship rather than one characterized by camaraderie or friendship. Jamal pushes past Dre and they glare at each other, showing a lack of cooperation and mutual annoyance. Additionally, Dre's taunting remarks further emphasize the friction between them.
“You going to let me in or what?” I say, pushing past Dre into the small entryway. Two large wooden doors block the rest of the way. I reach for the knobs. “Already tried it,” says Dre. “Locked.” “Well, there’s got to be a way in.” I scan the space until I find a small sign that reads KEYS above an empty key rack. Just below it sits a pile of rusted metal parts. I notice a button on one of them. Big Mac always said, “You’re either a doer or a spectator. And the world already got enough spectators.” So I reach out and press the button. I mean, what’s the worst that could— The stack of metal moves and I stumble backward into Dre. We glare at each other until a whirring sound gets our attention. Those rusted pieces begin to shift and spin until they’ve rearranged themselves into a short robot with glowing silver eyes. “KEY DROID OPERATIONAL.” I glance at Dre. He shrugs. “I ASSUME YOU ARE JAMAL AND ANDRE?” the robot squeaks. “Y-Yeah, that’s us,” Dre says. “The heck you supposed to be?” The robot rolls its silver eyes. “HAVE YOU REALLY NEVER SEEN A KEY DROID BEFORE?” “Um, I’m gonna say nah,” I reply. “IT’S SELF-EXPLANATORY. A KEY DROID OPENS DOORS.” Dre and I just stare at the thing. The key droid waddles past us to the locked door, extends a finger, and pushes it into the lock. Two clicks later, the door creaks open. The great room beyond is huge, like huge huge. The polished hardwood floors shine even in the dim light, and the ceiling overhead is covered in twinkling white shimmers, like a starry night sky. A great big fireball burns ferociously in midair while golden spheres zip around orbits and burning meteors streak across the room. It’s incredible. “It’s a model of the solar system,” says Dre. “Those gold orbs are the planets, and see that cloud of dust floating between Mars and Jupiter? I bet that’s the asteroid belt.” “AH, SO YOU DO KNOW SOMETHING!” the key droid exclaims. “I REALLY WAS BEGINNING TO QUESTION THE OLD MAN’S JUDGMENT.” “Man, Big Mac loved anything to do with space,” I say. He taught Dre and me to care about it too. Each summer we’d spend at his trailer, he’d take us outside whenever the night was clear and we’d stare up at the stars. Then he’d tell us stories about all the crazy made-up space missions he’d had when he was younger. Those tales were wild enough to be a Netflix series. “Old dude had to be sitting on some serious cash for a room like this,” says Dre. “See, I knew that’s all you cared about. You didn’t even spend last summer with Grandad. Shouldn’t even be here.” “Whatever,” says Dre. “You just worry about yourself.” He turns to the droid. “So how we doing this? Deciding who gets the house.” “IT’S SIMPLE,” the key droid explains, pointing to the opposite side of the room. “WHOEVER PASSES THROUGH THAT GOLDEN DOOR INHERITS THE HOUSE.” Dre and I both take a long look at the golden door at the back of the great room—and the oversized keyhole at its center. “Is Grandad behind that door?” I didn’t mean to say that out loud. Dre bursts out laughing. “You dumb as you look, aren’t you? What you think the funeral was for?” I ball my fists. “Call me dumb again!” “Or what?” Dre taunts. “SAVE YOUR ENERGY!” shouts the droid. “NOW, SHOULD WE HAVE A LOOK AT THE GOLDEN DOOR OR WOULD YOU RATHER COMPETE FOR A KEY?” “That key is mine,” says Dre. “Lead the way, metal dude.” “Yeah, let’s get this over with,” I say. “We both know I’m winning that key.” Dre and I follow the droid, shooting each other angry looks. We end up in a bright hallway, tall glass display cases lining the walls. Inside, great hunks of stone are covered in ancient-looking drawings of brown-skinned men and women floating in the sky and the heavens above. See, Big Mac had this theory that there are these caretakers who look out for all life in the universe. Humanity was born in Africa, and Grandad said those caretakers stopped by early on to teach us stuff like math and science. Said they took some of us on their ships to see the galaxy. It always sounded like science fiction to me, but looking at these drawings . . . I don’t know what to think. Question 2 2. Consider these exchanges between Jamal and Dre in the house’s entryway: “‘Took you long enough.’ Dre towers over me in the doorway . . . ‘You going to let me in or what?’ I say, pushing past Dre into the small entryway.” “The stack of metal moves and I stumble backward into Dre. We glare at each other until a whirring sound gets our attention.” What do these exchanges reveal about Jamal and Dre? (1 point) Responses Jamal and Dre enjoy joking and teasing one another. Jamal and Dre enjoy joking and teasing one another. Jamal and Dre have just met and are getting to know one another. Jamal and Dre have just met and are getting to know one another. Jamal and Dre feel resentment towards one another and do not get along. Jamal and Dre feel resentment towards one another and do not get along. Jamal and Dre are tired from long car rides and want to nap.
3 answers
just choose one
Jamal and Dre feel resentment towards one another and do not get along.