She is among the brightest students in her Grade 10 classes. She tends to gravitate toward those students who take their studies seriously, some of whom she admires for what she identifies as their high intelligence, both girls and boys. They discuss, face to face, and more regularly, through texted messages on their cellphones, all manner of subjects, inclusive of their day-to-day impressions of pedestrian occurrences in their young lives.

She slept very poorly the night before. She was under the impression she had thought of everything, including preparing breakfast beforehand, so as to waste as little time as possible, being cognizant of the importance of feeding her brain before going out at 7:30 a.m. to await her school bus pick-up. Her classmates in her grade had all been exposed to a preliminary test, both to familiarize them with the process and so that the school administration would be able to judge whom among them required additional time to perform the actual test.

She thought it predictable on the basis of ordinary school performance which of the students would be segregated and placed in another test area, where they were to be given additional time in which to address the test questions. She had confidence she would not be among them, for she had performed exceedingly well herself; no cerebral slouch, she.

Although she was aware of the number of students that would be assembled in the gym, it was still a surprise to see all those desks arrayed, awaiting student occupation and the assumption of the test procedures. There were two cohorts; those deemed capable of completing the entire test within a three-hour allotted time frame; those clearly, from the results of the trial test, requiring considerably more time.

Those students who, in the final analysis, were not capable of completing the test, and performing well enough to respond accurately to the rate of 72%, would be required to do the test again, the following year. She recognized, among those assembled in the gym, quite a few Grade 11 students. It is a literary test, one designed and imposed on all the provincial school boards as part of the irregular curriculum, to give the province a snapshot of students' progress. Her school is known to be in the top percentile of achievement.

She was nervous, anticipating the two guidance-and-question books they would be using to achieve the goal of completion and accuracy in the testing of their literary skills, demonstrating how well they have absorbed the lessons learned not only throughout the academic curriculum, but through ordinary exposure to many facets of life-experience.

They had a halfway break after the first book had been completed, before settling down again to the succeeding and final book. She felt hurried, wished there were more time to respond to all the questions at a little more thoughtful leisure. The essay they were required to write should have come with a little more time to enable them to assemble their thoughts, she felt ruefully. When she was three-quarters of her way through that essay, she looked up, to try to assess the progress of a student sitting nearby whose intelligence she admired. Still doing his essay too, so she felt relieved.

But then, before she was finished with the essay, the teacher in charge announced only fifteen minutes left for completion and she had to force herself not to panic. Glancing again at her bright friend, she realized he had set aside book, paper and pencil; finished. She concluded her essay, gave her full attention to the following series of questions, completed them just in time, and sat back, exhausted.

She hopes she did well. That answer will be given to her soon enough.