Two Weeks

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since he first started to study for it. He always had trouble with Spanish, and studying for it had been quite the chore. Every time he regretted signing up for the exam, he told himself a good score was all that separated him from his number one college. Northwestern already had received his math and english scores. Hopefully they had been good enough as well.

Two weeks. Two weeks of daily ser/estar conjugations. Two weeks of daily flashcards, vocab, and listening sections. Two whole weeks.

The ser/estar and por/para sections he knew would be hardest. He made sure he dedicated a certain amount of time to those each day. For two weeks.

He also knew the listening section would be a hassle. So for two weeks he had listened to the nightly news on Univision, and looked at the script for the night to make sure he had understood everything. It can be safely said that he now could fully understand the nightly Latino News, a feat most spanish speakers can’t even boast. He was ready.

Two weeks. Two weeks of persistent studying with limited facebook interruptions had come down to this. Two whole weeks had passed since he had checked the box to take the exam. Two. Weeks. It was time.

He looked over his notes one last time, put his notebook, water, and chips under his desk, closed his eyes, took a deep breath in, and prayed. He was confident. Northwestern, here I come.

The proctor read over all-the-boring-shit-that-everyone-already-knows-but-they-are-required-to-read-it precautions, and put a time on the board: 12:50pm.

“Your test will finish at this time. You may begin...now.”

He took a deep breath in, out. He opened his book to the first page.

The first question:

“Which of the following programs were included in Roosevelt's New Deal?”

Two fucking weeks.