Jenny and I were twins, and we were always close growing up despite our very different personalities. Besides a birthday and a couple dead parents, there wasn't much else we shared in common. She was an over-achiever and a bit of a kiss-ass, always trying to make mom and dad proud, which she seemed to pull off with ease. She was the girl in high school who played every sport, joined every club, ran the student council, and somehow still managed to pull A's without breaking a sweat. Intense doesn't even begin to describe her. I could never compete with that, so instead I decided to build an identity for myself as the rebel. Unfortunately, I somehow equated rebelling with turning into a giant asshole. We grew up in a middle-class suburban family. Our father was a teacher and our mother an architect. They were the kind of couple that kept a date night to go dancing every Friday for the 31 years they were married. They died when Jenny and I were twenty-two. We sold the house where we grew up and split the cash; neither of us wanted to set foot in it again. Jenny used the money to pay for her Master's. After school she went to work for James McPherson, one of the most powerful and richest men in the city. Aside from owning the St. Augustine, McPherson had interests in real estate, land development, venture capital, and other things I really should've known more about. The McPherson family was old money here going back to when this valley was nothing but orchards. If I said that at one time or another the McPherson family had owned every single square foot of land in our city, I'd probably be exaggerating - but not much. Jenny ran the McPhersons' charitable foundation, which basically meant that not only did they have so much money that they had to start giving it away, but they even had to hire someone else just to get rid of it for them. Question: Why did the twins sell the house? Options: A. It was too large for the two of them. B. Neither wanted to set a foot it in again. C. So they could invest in other real estate. D. not enough information === The correct answer is
B

(Question)
My mother's shopping lists were ordered by rules known only to her. As you slid your finger down the columns of groceries and toiletries, you would invariably be stopped by something along the lines of "2dozjumHerbal Essences" or "1pepperoni TC," with the "TC" underlined twice and flanked by gnarled masses of pencil scratch-outs. When we were kids, we dreaded accompanying her to Wal-Mart, or worse, the Cosco at the edge of town, where the echoing rafters and limitless aisles seemed to mock the confusion into which we were inevitably thrown when handed torn-off fragments of the list. Of course, it was easy enough to see in hindsight that "2dozjumHerbal Essences" was merely the bastard child of two drunkenly weaving columns--we had been supposed to get two dozen jumbo eggs and a bottle of my mother's favourite brand of shampoo (ever inventive in creating proprietary abbreviations--"TC" standing for, what else, thin crust pizza--my mother scrupulously wrote out brand names in full). It was a little like ordering chemicals for a laboratory, sans any knowledge of chemistry--or, for that matter, laboratories, although my ignorance of the distinction between baking soda and baking powder cannot be entirely the root of my confusion. Eventually I--and my siblings--learned the difference between tomato paste and tomato sauce, and could readily distinguish one brand of laundry detergent from a similarly-styled knock-off, but my shame-faced trips back to the mothercart never ceased. I would track her down, most often in the produce section--she was usually loath to trust us with the delicate task of selecting the very best fruits and vegetables--and hand her back my portion of the list, asking for an explanation. Usually it amounted to a failure of awareness on my part--get the kind of soap we always get, of course! Question: Where did the author dread going with his/her mother? Options: A. The supermarket. B. The edge of town C. not enough information D. Costco === The correct answer is
(Answer)
A

Question: So, there I was. Hanging out in my swimsuit, hair drawn back, just minding my own business and relaxing in the delicious, luxurious Scandinave Spa, a stone's throw from Whistler town centre. The husband and I had split up for the afternoon he had decided to traverse the peaks of Whistler and Blackcomb on the peak2peak gondola, and I'd chosen a slightly less terrifying mountain vista to enjoy. It was just one of those days where we'd decided happily to do two different things, and meet up afterwards for a spot of dinner. Cascading down the hillside, the Scandinave Spa's rustic installations nestle on the edge of the Lost Lake Park spruce and cedar forest and promises to both relax and invigorate you, and provide an escape from daily stress. With several levels of hot and icy plunge pools, sauna and steam rooms, everyone wanders from indoor to outdoor relaxation spots from sun-soaked spot to waterfall spout back massages. Bliss. It's also a place where silence is "essential to the experience. By embracing silence one finds inner stillness, leading to complete relaxation." To be honest, most people who couldn't be quiet i.e. me just talked in hushed tones, but it made for a super chilled few hours. Until I was sitting in one of the steam rooms (does that make the title clickbait? Sorry using the title 'steam room with Lady Gaga' made it sound as though we were chickens cooking in a slowcooker) and a very, very slim blonde lady slipped in. Queen Gaga herself. I've got to be honest, sticking to the 'no eye contact with other people who are chillaxing' rule, I didn't pay very much attention to what was going on, but after 25 minutes or so of basting relaxing, I stretched languidly my bones like toffee and wandered out to the next room, and looking up from the drinks table, had to blink several times as she followed me out. Trying to play cool, I tried keep a poker face (after all, she was there to relax and recuperate in the middle of a big Canadian tour, she didn't need a random Kiwi gawking at her)... Question: When did the writer try to keep a poker face? Options: A. not enough information B. after Lady Gaga slipped into the steam room C. after Lady Gaga walked into one of the yoga rooms D. before the writer was inside the steam room === The correct answer is
Answer:
B