How Text Reveals Character: Short Fiction Practice Test
•15 QuestionsRead the following passage and answer the question below.
Darren arrived at the hospital cafeteria with the kind of energy that made chairs seem too small for him. He set his backpack down, then immediately stood again, as if sitting would admit something. The vending machines hummed in a steady, indifferent chorus. Somewhere above, an elevator chimed and swallowed another family.
His sister Layla slid a paper cup of coffee toward him. “You didn’t eat,” she said.
“I’m fine,” Darren replied, though his voice came out thin. He watched the coffee as if it were a dare.
They had been here since dawn. Their father’s surgery was supposed to be routine; the word routine had sounded like a promise until the surgeon’s face tightened and the promise turned into a hallway of closed doors.
Layla’s phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen and exhaled. “Mom wants updates.”
Darren nodded too quickly. “Tell her it’s going great.”
Layla stared at him. “Darren.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin, rolling it across his knuckles the way their father had taught him when Darren was nine and afraid of thunderstorms. The coin flashed under the fluorescent lights, bright and meaningless.
“Stop,” Layla said gently.
Darren smiled, showing his teeth. “I’m not doing anything.”
A nurse walked past with a clipboard, and Darren’s eyes followed her until she disappeared behind swinging doors. He pressed the coin into his palm so hard his skin blanched around its edge.
What does the bolded detail most strongly suggest about Darren?
Read the following passage and answer the question below.
Darren arrived at the hospital cafeteria with the kind of energy that made chairs seem too small for him. He set his backpack down, then immediately stood again, as if sitting would admit something. The vending machines hummed in a steady, indifferent chorus. Somewhere above, an elevator chimed and swallowed another family.
His sister Layla slid a paper cup of coffee toward him. “You didn’t eat,” she said.
“I’m fine,” Darren replied, though his voice came out thin. He watched the coffee as if it were a dare.
They had been here since dawn. Their father’s surgery was supposed to be routine; the word routine had sounded like a promise until the surgeon’s face tightened and the promise turned into a hallway of closed doors.
Layla’s phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen and exhaled. “Mom wants updates.”
Darren nodded too quickly. “Tell her it’s going great.”
Layla stared at him. “Darren.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin, rolling it across his knuckles the way their father had taught him when Darren was nine and afraid of thunderstorms. The coin flashed under the fluorescent lights, bright and meaningless.
“Stop,” Layla said gently.
Darren smiled, showing his teeth. “I’m not doing anything.”
A nurse walked past with a clipboard, and Darren’s eyes followed her until she disappeared behind swinging doors. He pressed the coin into his palm so hard his skin blanched around its edge.
What does the bolded detail most strongly suggest about Darren?