Late one Saturday morning about four years ago, I was standing in the express checkout line at one of the mega discount stores behind this teenaged boy who couldn't stand still to save his life. Normally, I don't pay attention to other people in the checkout line or what they're buying; but this kid was fidgeting so much, I couldn't help but wonder what was going on. Then I saw the pregnancy test in his hands and a look of anger and sheer terror on his face. Unlike the teenager in "A Test," this kid never saw me looking at him and he didn't throw the test on the floor. But right when it was his turn at the register, he got out of line, put the pregnancy kit on the magazine rack and walked out of the store. I've wondered often about him since, and I wrote "A Test" to remember the confusion and dread I think we both felt at that moment.