Stand-Off by Andrew Smith Read Free Book Online Page A

specifics on font size and page layout of our work, our responsibilities regarding deadlines, our openness to criticism, and his general prohibition against a list of verbs (hegave the ones he never wanted to see, which included any form of “to be”), all adverbs, and anything ever written in first-person point of view.
    â€œAnd, if you are not aware of what an adverb is, or one-P-P-O-V, then I would suggest you consider transferring into beginning finger-painting class immediately,” Dr. Wellins said.
    I was thinking if he only banned a few more language devices, we could all hand in blank pages and ace this shitty class.
    Here’s another thing: I hate alphabetical order.
    Opportunities are supposed to be randomly distributed, right? There are only three possible terminal initials worse than W when it comes to the unfair allocation of choice or turn taking, and nobody has a last name that starts with X . I mention this because as Dr. Wellins called off the names on his roster he asked each student to name the person in the class with whom they would like to be wed for the term as a crit partner.
    â€œâ€Šâ€˜Crit partner’ is what WRITERS”—whenever Dr. Wellins said “writers,” it always sounded like it was in all capitals, like he was attempting to describe celestial angels to the tongueless half-beast spawns of hell—“call their critique partner. It is a significant relationship, one based on trust, openness, integrity, and support. The commitment is akin to the faithfulness and dedication of a husband or wife. Do I make myself clear?”
    I mentally counted the number of “to be” verbs in his proclamation.
    Don’t look back. There were three.
    Nobody said anything.
    To be honest, I think most of the kids in the class stopped listening to Dr. Wellins when he told us all about his doctoral dissertation, which was an analysis of the underlying themes of homosexuality and narcissism in Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island .
    Besides that, husband or wife ?
    Was Dr. Wellins already concocting some bizarre fantasies about the kids in his Creative Writing course? Also, who ever says “akin”? Look, I knew how much I’d changed over the summer, and I was certain that Isabel had lost her virginity, but Dr. Wellins, since earning his PhD, had transformed into an even bigger self-absorbed douche than he was in eleventh-grade American Literature, and the scale of that was almost impossible to imagine.
    But, to return to the egregious miscarriage of justice known as alphabetical order , the first kid on Dr. Wellins’ roster happened to be the Abernathy.
    â€œSamuel Abernathy?” Dr. Wellins said.
    The Abernathy raised his little pink baby hand. “Here, sir.”
    â€œDo you know anyone here in this desiccated wasteland of imbecility with whom you would like to bond as a crit partner?”
    Dr. Wellins swept his arm across the breadth of the room like he was scattering chicken feed in slow motion.
    Please don’t bond with me, Sam Abernathy. Please don’t bond with me, Sam Abernathy. Please don’t bond—
    Then the Abernathy pointed at me and said, “Yes, sir. I would like to partner with Ryan Dean.”
    Unfortunately for me, Dr. Wellins’s factory of creativity—like our ( my! ) dorm room—was on the ground floor, which eliminated the possibility of a desperate leap from the window.
    And Dr. Wellins’s pervert-tumbleweed eyebrows rose like the spines of twin cats about to fight when he realized the target Sam Abernathy pointed at was the same Ryan Dean who was also in his American Lit class the preceding year.
    â€œRyan Dean West?” Dr. Wellins was practically salivating.
    I apologize for using a “be” verb and an adverb.
    I also apologize for not being able to deny my existence.
    â€œHello, Dr. Wellins.” I gave him a half-elevated pope wave. “Congratulations on the