A Love Letter to the ACT 


Graphic by Claire Roach.

Amanda Fronczak, Humor Editor

Dear College Board and the ACT, 


There’s no one who gives me butterflies and makes my palms sweat like you. When someone mentions your name my heart skips a beat. As soon as I realize we’re spending 4-5 hours together, I instantly get nervous. I spend weeks preparing myself for our hangout, and analyze every possible question you might throw my way. You love keeping me on my toes and are inquisitive about topics I haven’t thought about in years. You waste no time and enjoy switching subjects quickly: moving on before I can even come up with an answer. That’s a quirk I love about you; an hour with you feels like 10 minutes. 

In a room full of people, I’m only focused on you. Even when you make me second guess myself, you’re still the one for me. I guarantee you’re the perfect fit for me, so you never need to worry about my other options. I would never ever take the SAT, I promise. I’m not just saying that so you’ll give me a 36. You’re worth more than a composite score. Although you definitely play hard to get, making me wait weeks before you reveal my scores. I know you want me to think about you 24/7, and, trust me, I do. 

You test my patience and make me question if it’s really worth it. In the end, it probably isn’t, and I won’t lie: you tend to disappoint me. But that’s because you’re not afraid to call me out for my mistakes and tell me when I’m wrong. You’re 100 percent real with me, and never shy away from telling me the truth even when it’ll hurt. 

Spending time with you is draining, but just because I’m so focused on you and all the questions you love to ask me. All I ask of you is to take it easy on me and pity my lack of knowledge involving semicolons and SOHCAHTOA. 



Your Secret Admirer