The Orange AP Test

Here's a little first-draft English assignment that I just wrote. It was due a month ago, but thats besides the point. What really matters is that I did it, and I'm going to turn it in tomorrow.

The Orange AP Test

Taking an AP class is a lot like peeling an Orange. When you sign up for your classes at the beginning of the year, you want to choose the juiciest, most plump classes you can find. It is your design to get the most for your money, so you choose carefully. When choosing, you must remember that you can only handle so many AP classes, just like you can only eat so many oranges before you tongue feels raw. Once you sign up for the classes, and the year begins, you begin to peel away the undesirable exterior, little bit at a time, trying to get to the good stuff on the inside. In any AP class you take, there is always a peel of worthless crap that you have to work your way through before you can get to the juicy, nutritious knowledge. You are always being fed the “how to pass the test” part of the orange—that’s the worthless part—and you never really get to the good “this is how and why this works this way”. Nobody is to blame for this, but that’s the way it is. The guy at the store who sells you the orange knows that you are gonna have to peel your way through the orange, just like the teacher knows that you have to learn how to take that single test at the end of the year.

So, the entire year we struggle with the peel. We can smell a hint of the really juicy part of the class all the time, but it is always out of our reach, because we can never really get the peel off completely. By year’s end, when it is time to take the AP test, the peel has been removed, but now you are left with an orange that went bad a year ago! It stopped smell good a long time ago, but you spent $83 bucks on it, and endless hours trying to peel it. You aren’t about to throw it out the window. So what do you do? You take the test, and you eat the orange. Its just terrible. The material that you learned all year long has gone bad, and the tasty juices are all but gone. You find yourself eating a dried up, worthless piece of biotic stuff that isn’t benefiting you in any way, shape, or form.

But you can’t stop eating it. You are in the middle of a test. The counselors are standing there, forcing you to eat the nasty orange. All you want to do is throw the orange at them, but that would benefit you even less, as you would lose all “privileges” to eat it as you are sent to the hall, your 83 dollar orange behind closed doors.

So instead, you muscle your way through the test. You plug your nose and force it down. You do everything you can do finish the orange in the remaining time, and make the best of your crappy situation. You do the best you can, despite wanting to hurl, and then, in the blink of an eye, the orange is gone. You’ve eaten the entire rotten orange.

You don’t know how you did, because the entire process became a blur to you. You feel a sense of anxiety as you realize that you won’t see the results for another few months. Your digestive system and the AP readers are so slow that you will have forgotten eating the orange when you finally see the results. The results are there, staring you in the face, and man alive does it stink.