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The  eyeliner  makes  the  dark  circles  less  visible.  The  lip  gloss  hides  the  trembling.  The ponytail hides missing patches  of hair.  The Abercrombie  sweater  covers bruises.  I might  look  at bit thinner, but  everyone will  ask  about my new  diet.  My hair might not  shine the way  it  used to, but the pink ribbon will distract curious eyes. One hour of preparation and I look like  myself.  One  hour  of preparation  and  no  one  will  know.  One  hour  out  of 24.  Sometimes  I  wonder if it's worth it—wasting a twenty-fourth of my day on a lie. But then I  see my wispy hair and baggy eyes, and I have to do it.
Checking my makeup  one last time, I push my  sleeves up, though not past my  elbows. I slip  on  a  cute  pair  of  flat  shoes—heels  are  too  dangerous  with  shaky  legs—and  grab  my
Hollister bag. Padding downstairs, I breathe in the scent of waffles and syrup.
"Morning,   Mom,"I   call.
"Morning,  baby,"she  chirps."Did  you  sleep  well?"
"Better than I have been."
She  sighs,  and  her  eyes  look  a  hundred  years  old  for  a  minute."Improvement  is  good,"she  says  half-heartedly.
"Of   course."
"I  made  waffles."Her  offering.
"Thanks,  Mom.   Smells   delicious."My   offering.
I sit at the table and she hands me a plate. The thought of all that food turns my stomach, but  I  force  a  smile  and  thank  my  mother  again.  She  busies  herself at  the  sink  and  fills  the silence  with  chatter.  When  she  turns  around,  she  takes  in  the  waffles  still  on  my  plate,  only missing a few bites. I smile apologetically.
"I'm not very hungry this morning."
"You'll need your  strength  for this  afternoon."  She bites her lip.  She  doesn't  like to bring it up over breakfast. I eat another bite.
"I packed your  lunch."
"I'm  18, Mom. I can pack my own lunch. You have more important things to do."
She  reaches  for  the  paper  sack."But  now  I  know  you'll  have  something  to  eat.  And  you need to eat, okay? You have to keep your strength up."
Sighing,  I take the bag.  I know this peanut butter  and jelly  sandwich won't be  eaten, not any  more  than  the  one  yesterday  or  the  day  before.  Anything  consumed  after  11ends  up  in  a plastic basin at 4:07. It's just the way it works.
"Hon. have you thought about what I said the other day?" she asks.
I  shrug  noncommittally.
"Sweetheart,  you  can't  hide  this  forever.  Eventually  you're  going  to  miss  school  and people  will  start  asking  questions."
"Mom, I have two months left of high  school. I can make it till then. I'm class president
and  probably  will  make  a  graduation  speech.  I  was  voted  'Most  popular,'Most  fun  to  bearound,''Best   smile,'and   'Most   likely   to   succeed.'I'm   the   girl   who's   got   it   all   together.
People  don't  want  to  know  that  the  girl  who's  got  it  all  together,  doesn't  have  it  all  together.
People don't want to know that girl is dying!"
"Honey, don't say that. You're not dying."
"Yes, I am. You heard Dr. Morrison. I have maybe a year left. Mom, listen to me. I don't want to be the girl everyone looks at and whispers, Look at her. Poor thing! I can't handle that.
I want to be normal. Just for these last two months."
"Okay,"  she  whispers,"Okay.  Just  remember,  it's  okay  if you  don't  have  it  all  together.
Sometimes things just fall apart and there's nothing we can do.”
"Thanks,  Mom."I  grab  my bag  and  lunch  and  kiss  her  on  the  cheek."I  love  you.""I  love you too." my mom replies. This exchange, once taken for granted, is now a vital part of every morning, every afternoon, every night. Three little words, followed by four more, have come to mean  more  than  an  entire  conversation.  They  bridge  all  gaps  and  disagreements,  because  we both know there is now a finite number left.
Keys in hand, I open the door and blink in the early morning sun. My silver car waits in
the driveway and as I walk toward it, I check my reflection in the tinted window. Perfect.
66.Why does the author think her make up time is spent on a lie?
A. Because she is going on a new diet.
B.Because she has to deal with her wispy hair and baggy eyes.
C. Because she tries to look prettier than she actually is.
D. Because she is pretending to look normal.
67.What will happen if she forces herself to eat some food for lunch?

A.She  will  eventually  miss  school. B.It will build up her  strength.
C. She will throw it up later. D. It will make her work better.

68.The  underlined  sentence  "I  shrug  noncommittally"  most  probably  means                    
A. the author is bored with her mom            B.the  author  is  indifferent  about the  issue
C. the author has already considered it      D. the author gives no clear answer
69.The exchange of greetings have become vital for the author and her mom because                  

A.she wants to be normal B. she is running out of time
C.they  disagree  with  each  other D. there is a generation gap between them

70.What adjectives can we use to describe the author?

A. Polite but stupid. B.Hardworking and  successful.
C. Understanding and considerate. D.Popular  but  stubborn.

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