Read an article in which a student describes her first day at college and mark the letter A, B, C or D on your answer sheet to indicate the correct answer to each of the questions.
I had dressed quite nicely for my first day as a student. At 16, I had been upgraded from lowly pupil to proud student upon enrolment at St. Anne’s College of Further Education. I would be spending the next two years on a drama foundation course, which I hoped would pave the way for me to become one of the great actresses of British theatre. In celebration of this new beginning and higher status, I had swapped my usual ripped jeans and sloppy jumpers for a pair of clean dungarees with a neatly pressed white shirt and, much to my mother’s shock, I had actually brushed my hair.
Like many young people my age, I was under the impression that the best way to show your individuality and creativity was by wearing the kind of clothing that my despairing mother claimed was not fit to be seen in public. But for my first day as a student I had made an effort to look what my mother called “respectable”.
There were fifteen of us, sitting in a large circle on wobbly old chairs in the theatre hall, while the head of the drama department, Mr. Wilson, gave us a warm welcoming speech and told us all about the course we were about to start. To my horror, he then invited us to say a little bit about ourselves and why we had decided to do a drama course. I had no idea what I would say in front of all these people, which was a bit embarrassing for a would-be actress. The truth was that despite a taste for unusual clothing, I was painfully shy.
My alarm grew as it came closer to my turn. My mind went blank and my mouth dry in dread of making a complete idiot of myself within the first hour of my new life. One by one, the new students enthusiastically explained their reasons for their longing for the stage. Then it was the turn of a girl who I hadn’t really noticed until that moment because I was too busy panicking about what I would say.
While all the other students, including me, looked fresh-faced and eager to please sitting bolt upright on the rickety chairs, this girl stood out like a sore thumb. She was slumped down so low in her chair and her jacket collar was pulled up so high that you could hardly see her face at all. All that was visible was a mop of untidy short brown hair and extraordinarily large, furious blue eyes. She briefly poked her chin above her collar and grunted, “My name’s Tracy and I’m from Blackburn”. She then retreated like a turtle back into her shell leaving only her wild blue eyes on show and added no further information about herself.
Everyone smiled politely in stunned silence but I was both impressed and relieved: I was impressed at her bravery in saying almost nothing even under pressure, and relieved that you could get away with saying so little about yourself. It gave me the confidence to say just a few words, without saying too much and sounding foolish.
After Mr.Wilson at long last let us out of the hall to go to lunch. I managed to find the courage to go up to Tracy. She was sitting alone at a table in the cafeteria still slumped in her chair, eating a bar of chocolate. She looked very unfriendly and unapproachable. Taking a deep breath, I introduced myself. To my surprise, she looked up at me with her huge eyes and gave me a very bright, sweet smile. That was twenty-seven years ago, and although we never did become famous stars of the stage or screen, we're still best friends.
When the writer tells us that the girl she had just noticed “stood out like a sore thumb”, she means that she
A.seemed as if she was in pain.
B.was noticeable as she was different to the others.
C.looked very uncomfortable.
D.wasn’t sitting with the others.
I had dressed quite nicely for my first day as a student. At 16, I had been upgraded from lowly pupil to proud student upon enrolment at St. Anne’s College of Further Education. I would be spending the next two years on a drama foundation course, which I hoped would pave the way for me to become one of the great actresses of British theatre. In celebration of this new beginning and higher status, I had swapped my usual ripped jeans and sloppy jumpers for a pair of clean dungarees with a neatly pressed white shirt and, much to my mother’s shock, I had actually brushed my hair.
Like many young people my age, I was under the impression that the best way to show your individuality and creativity was by wearing the kind of clothing that my despairing mother claimed was not fit to be seen in public. But for my first day as a student I had made an effort to look what my mother called “respectable”.
There were fifteen of us, sitting in a large circle on wobbly old chairs in the theatre hall, while the head of the drama department, Mr. Wilson, gave us a warm welcoming speech and told us all about the course we were about to start. To my horror, he then invited us to say a little bit about ourselves and why we had decided to do a drama course. I had no idea what I would say in front of all these people, which was a bit embarrassing for a would-be actress. The truth was that despite a taste for unusual clothing, I was painfully shy.
My alarm grew as it came closer to my turn. My mind went blank and my mouth dry in dread of making a complete idiot of myself within the first hour of my new life. One by one, the new students enthusiastically explained their reasons for their longing for the stage. Then it was the turn of a girl who I hadn’t really noticed until that moment because I was too busy panicking about what I would say.
While all the other students, including me, looked fresh-faced and eager to please sitting bolt upright on the rickety chairs, this girl stood out like a sore thumb. She was slumped down so low in her chair and her jacket collar was pulled up so high that you could hardly see her face at all. All that was visible was a mop of untidy short brown hair and extraordinarily large, furious blue eyes. She briefly poked her chin above her collar and grunted, “My name’s Tracy and I’m from Blackburn”. She then retreated like a turtle back into her shell leaving only her wild blue eyes on show and added no further information about herself.
Everyone smiled politely in stunned silence but I was both impressed and relieved: I was impressed at her bravery in saying almost nothing even under pressure, and relieved that you could get away with saying so little about yourself. It gave me the confidence to say just a few words, without saying too much and sounding foolish.
After Mr.Wilson at long last let us out of the hall to go to lunch. I managed to find the courage to go up to Tracy. She was sitting alone at a table in the cafeteria still slumped in her chair, eating a bar of chocolate. She looked very unfriendly and unapproachable. Taking a deep breath, I introduced myself. To my surprise, she looked up at me with her huge eyes and gave me a very bright, sweet smile. That was twenty-seven years ago, and although we never did become famous stars of the stage or screen, we're still best friends.
When the writer tells us that the girl she had just noticed “stood out like a sore thumb”, she means that she
A.seemed as if she was in pain.
B.was noticeable as she was different to the others.
C.looked very uncomfortable.
D.wasn’t sitting with the others.
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