Read the following context and choose the correct option to answer the question. Context: The office smelled like money. Brand new carpet, somebody's expensive perfume still hanging in the air. The chairs in the waiting room are leather and the copy machine has a million attachments and there's pictures on the wall that I don't know what they're supposed to be. Made me ashamed of the shirt I was wearing, the cuffs all frayed and some of the buttons don't match. The secretary is a knockout and I figure Dennis has got to be getting in her pants. Red hair and freckles and shiny skin that looks like she just got out of a hot shower. A smile like she really means it. My name was in the book and she showed me right on in. Dennis shook my hand and put me in a chair that was slings and tube steel. The calendar next to his desk had a ski scene on it. Behind him was solid books, law books all in the same binding, also some biographies and political stuff. "Too bad you couldn't make the reunion," Dennis said. "It was a hoot." "I just felt weird about it," I said. I still did. It looked like he wanted me to go on, so I said, "I knew there'd be a bunch of y'all there that had really made good, and I guess I...I don't know. Didn't want to have to make excuses." "Hard to believe it's been twenty years. You look good. I still wouldn't want to run into you in a dark alley, but you look fit. In shape." "I got weights in the garage, I try to work out. When you're my size you can go to hell pretty quick. You look like you're doing pretty good yourself." Charlene is always pointing to people on TV and talking about the way they dress. With Dennis I could see for the first time what she's talking about. The gray suit he had on looked like part of him, like it was alive. When I think about him in grungy sweats back at Thomas Jefferson High School, bent double from trying to run laps, it doesn't seem like the same guy. Question: Who thinks that Dennis does not look the same as he did in high school Options: - not enough information - Dennis - Charlene - the author
the author

Read the following context and choose the correct option to answer the question. Context: I loved the little guy from the day she brought him home. She carried him wrapped in a sweatshirt from the shelter at the corner where she'd been saying for months she was going to go. She set him down on the hardwood floor and he clipped around like a fawn - - clip, clip -- looking through doorways and carefully eyeing us both. He was tiny but he was strong. He was muscular and sleek, like a miniature greyhound, and we both watched intently as he clipped around, soldiering things out and whining under his breath. Miss Tennessee looked at me and smiled and said: "Well honey? What do you think?" And I told her: "I love the little guy." He was never really my dog. He was more like my step-dog, but together we named him Steve. We thought it was funny, giving a dog a man's name like that. But it fit, like Miss Tennessee, which I started just to tease her about being full-grown and long- legged and pretty, but in a tomboyish way that made it both absolutely ridiculous and absolutely plausible that she had ever been Miss Anything. It always made her swallow a grin. Steve's name, on the other hand, made it sound like he wasn't a dog at all, but this little man. Miss Tennessee often called him that: the little man. Steve liked me okay but he loved Miss Tennessee. With me it was man things. After he got snipped or when he was stung by bees, down there, in grass that came up to his chin, he would come sit by me, hoping I'd understand. With her, it was everything else. When she took a bath, he stood with his paws on the side of the tub, and when she went someplace he couldn't go he stood where he last saw her and waited. If she went into a store and left us together in the car, he stood with his paws on the dashboard, waiting and crying and looking at me like maybe I was to blame. Question: Where did Miss Tennessee get Steve from? Options: - not enough information - The shelter - He was a stray - The pet store
The shelter

Read the following context and choose the correct option to answer the question. Context: I'm going to take something that happened to my daughter for this answer. Billie Jo (our daughter) was probably around ten years old when it happened. We had a young Black Labrador dog who had become quite smitten with chewing things up that she wasn't supposed to. The list grew longer as the months passed. Looker, our black lab, had chewed up and eaten a $10 bill, my VCR remote control (probably around 1987), and a sticker-filled blackberry vine my wife had planted. How she did that one without serious repercussions is beyond me. She also had a habit of grabbing the mail as it slid through the slot that was in our front door, taking it out back and 'sorting' it for us. So what happened really came as no big surprise. My daughter was a very diligent student, never wanting to let down her teachers by not turning her homework in as soon as she got to school (at least until she hit 14). One morning our daughter was trying to find the math homework that she knew she had completed the night before. My wife assisted in the search and soon found a partially chewed up piece of our daughter's homework page. Our daughter was devastated! How could she possibly walk in to school and publicly announce, "My dog ate my homework!" without becoming the laughing stock of the school? Like this: Mama Bear (my wife) storms into the classroom and vehemently upholds our daughter's "dog ate my homework" bit, showing the teacher the half eaten paper. Funny thing was, the teacher would have never doubted our little girl for one minute. Back then, Billie Jo was the sweetest, cutest, most polite and well mannered child a parent could possibly hope for. And her teachers loved her. So, if you have partial proof, it can be a valid excuse. Question: Why did Billie Jo not hand in her homework? Options: - The dog ate Billie Jo's homework. - not enough information - Billie Jo forgot to bring it home. - Billie Jo didn't do her homework.
The dog ate Billie Jo's homework.