Tessa received the letter in an oversized lavender envelope with a silver star across the addressee space. She knew what it was before she opened it due to a system error earlier that week that had sent out emails to the accepted students. She still opened it slowly to build anticipation, just like she had planned to do back when she first applied. Congratulations on your acceptance to the Hollywood Summer Stars teenage film program. Please see script submission deadlines below, and report to Studio 14 on the appropriate date. It was everything she had hoped for since six months prior when she had turned over her carefully crafted application.
On June 24, Tessa stood outside Studio 14 clutching two binders to her chest. One contained her shooting script, which was several development stages ahead of where the program expected it to be. The second binder contained a summer-long schedule she had composed for herself, detailing the upcoming weeks and the progress she planned to make on the film. Tessa’s mother had poked fun at her elaborate preparations, encouraging her to use some of her free time for actual fun before the camp took over her summer vacation. Her mother didn’t understand that for Tessa, this was fun.
The camp arranged students in pairs to provide feedback to and support for one another. Tessa’s fondest aspiration was to be matched with someone similar to her or related to someone famous who could maybe provide an exotic outside perspective on her work. Instead, they paired her with a Midwestern boy named Varick who had never left his home state of Ohio before his acceptance letter arrived. Tessa managed her disappointment and asked about his project, hoping it wouldn’t be too tedious. He told her his script was open-ended by design, and that he intended to develop the content further as he filmed. Tessa thought that approach amounted to wasting a golden opportunity to make a masterpiece under professional supervision.
The first week of filming went smoothly, and Tessa managed to accomplish every single task on her extensive to-do list. The second week was less productive. The obstacles began Tuesday morning, when storms appeared on the horizon. Tessa wasn’t an amateur planner, so she had penciled in the possibility of poor weather. However she had not imagined the possibility of three consecutive overcast days taking place in a single week in Los Angeles. By Thursday, her mood soured, and she berated the clouds overhead for their interference. Through it all, Varick urged her to “change it up” and capture some of the fascinating skyscapes provided by the uncooperative weather. Tessa grew frustrated with his intrusion, and reminded him for the umpteenth time that her film had nothing to do with storms.
The fourth week marked the halfway point for the camp. Tessa reviewed her footage methodically, and she was chagrined to find it underwhelming. Her special-effects work was clearly rushed due to a double-booking that had derailed her the previous week. Some of her shots lacked continuity, which she supposed was the result of lighting woes from the storms. There were even blatant mistakes in the editing, probably owing to the all-nighters she pulled to keep on schedule. Tessa was both jealous and regretful when she saw Varick’s footage. He had captured the storm, which had derailed her own film, in a unique and beautiful way. He had even cut back on special effects rather than burning the midnight oil to make up for the double-booked studio. When she complimented him, he thanked her and said nonchalantly, “I just go with the flow.” It wasn’t the exotic outside perspective she had hoped her partner would give her, but she had to admit that where results were concerned, his methods had so far outstripped her own.
Tessa’s planned finale involved a scene at the La Brea Tar Pits Museum on Wilshire. She’d been there a handful of times when her father had brought her to LA for business, and she was so certain the museum would accommodate her that she had not planned an alternative. The rejection for her request came on Friday. She planned to start the shoot that Sunday. It was a very polite letter, explaining that it would be impossible to accommodate her equipment due to a charity 5k that would shut down the road and bring an unusually high level of foot traffic into the museum. Varick watched her pace the room with concern in his eyes. Unlike his helpful encouragement during the first six weeks of camp, he did not seem to have any words of advice to offer now. “I have an idea,” Tessa said at last. She stopped pacing and put her planning binder back up on the shelf. “I think I can make it work, but I want to be there when the runners are passing the museum.”
On the final day of class, Tessa watched her film play as the instructors scribbled notes. Nerves twisted in the pit of her stomach as she thought about the perfect film she had planned and worried about what she had made instead. In the dim light of the theater, she watched the instructors’ faces. They had read her initial script, so they knew what was supposed to happen. She watched them murmur to one another in low tones as the final scene played out on screen, and when they clapped, looking genuinely impressed, Tessa met Varick’s eye and shared her relief with him in a glance. Maybe he hadn’t been the partner she’d envisioned, but he had certainly turned out to be the one she needed. His penchant for turning obstacles into opportunities had provided the necessary influence to save—perhaps even improve—her film.
What is the theme of “The Show Must Go On”? How do specific details shape the theme and affect Tessa’s attitude as the story progresses? Use evidence from the text to support your response. Your response should be at least three complete paragraphs.
Answer:
Type your answer here.
(Score for Question 2: ___ of 10 points)
Read the passage. Then answer the question.
The Next Adventure
Malik had only a week’s notice when his mother’s transfer to the Kadena Air Base in Okinawa, Japan, came through. He wasn’t sure if she had been given only a week’s notice, or if she’d just waited so long to tell him because she suspected that he would not take it well. As it happened, he didn’t take it well. He reminded her heatedly about his best friend Jamie’s sixteenth birthday party that was still a month away, and his own upcoming eligibility to acquire his driver’s license that summer. She had promised to take him for the test if he completed the driving safety course, which he had paid for just last week. But it didn’t matter what he said, because the professional movers were already there, and his mother wore the expression that told Malik he didn’t have the slightest chance, and that she was very busy with other matters.
The first week in Japan was predictably atrocious. Malik’s mother came home every night with infuriating new suggestions for how he could spend his time—or, as he preferred to think of it, how he could pass his sentence. They wouldn’t be there forever. She encouraged him to visit the skate park and the jogging trails like he used to do at home, or that he meet the other kids his age at the pool before the weather closed it down. He didn’t want to know the others any more than he wanted to settle down in Okinawa, two million miles from where he belonged. He preferred to spend his time browsing social media and trading complaints with Jamie. He and Jamie had been friends for their entire lives, which was a foreign concept to most of the base kids Malik talked to when his mother did manage to get him to interact. Whenever he brought it up, they all launched into a game where they named the place they’d stayed the longest, and he felt like the outsider he knew he was.
It was a whole month before Malik ever left the base. When he did, it was because his mother finally grew frustrated enough with his sullen behavior to force him out. She sent him with a colleague who volunteered to drive his son and some friends to a local museum. Malik didn’t even know the son, or any of the other guys. He only went because he knew he was pushing it with his mom lately, and she was the only person he regularly spoke to offline. That made it fairly uncomfortable when they weren’t speaking at all.
The museum was actually kind of cool, even if Malik had no intention of telling his mother he had a good time. He purchased several souvenirs he knew Jamie would like. They had always enjoyed studying history together, so he knew the gifts would be better received than anything he could have picked out in the states. The guys in the carpool weren’t so bad either. They weren’t his friends from home, but they still had good senses of humor, and excellent stories, and Malik found himself laughing along on the way home.
From there it all kind of unraveled as far as resistance went. Malik met up with the guys whenever he could do so without admitting to his mom he actually liked it. And then even that game grew old, so he just hung out whenever he wanted and paid no mind to her knowing smiles. Together, Malik and his new friends explored the whole island of Okinawa. They rode the monorail to all fifteen stations and found something compelling to do at each one, whether it was just walking around or seeing a film or eating somewhere—or something—interesting. Over the months, members of the group dropped off, transferred out with their parents. Others joined them, too. Gradually, Malik’s social media feed shifted from hometown news to an expansive collection of photos and stories from three or four continents at a time.
One afternoon, eight months in, Malik found his mother sitting quietly in the kitchen. At first, he thought she was just relaxing from a long day, but eventually he realized it was something more. She looked tired, but she also looked troubled. She didn’t meet his eyes, even when he nudged the letter laying in front of her with his knuckle. “Where are we going next?” he asked. She looked up at him, and he knew right away that he’d guessed right. He reached for the letter. “I hope it’s Germany,” he said. “Jake is there now, and he’s always posting about it.” Malik watched the tension leave his mother’s face. Honestly, he didn’t see what she was so worried about. He was more than ready for the next adventure.
In “The Next Adventure,” how does Malik change from the time he finds out he’s moving to Japan to the end of the story? Use specific details and evidence from the text to support your response. Your response should be one to two complete paragraphs.
Answer:
Type your answer here.
(Score for Question 3: ___ of 15 points)
How does Malik relate with his mother in “The Next Adventure”? How do their interactions change over the course of the story? Use specific details and evidence from the text to support your response. Your response should be at least two complete
