The Final Exam by Gitty Daneshvari Read Free Book Online

cloud over my life, haunting me, torturing my every second! And yet he’s angry with me? What have I ever done to him, besides love his father?”
    “Perhaps it’s best we segue into the listening section—and just to be clear,
you
are expected to listen, not
me.
”
    “Is that your elaborate way of telling me to shut up?”
    “Yes, Madame, it most certainly is,” Schmidty said before prompting the woman to close her eyes and continue down the imaginary staircase.
    Two floors down, Schmidty noticed a remarkable change in Mrs. Wellington’s breathing.
    “Madame,” he whispered excitedly before hearing the definitive sound of a snore.
    As Schmidty covered a slumbering Mrs. Wellington with a soft chenille blanket, Theo continued his tour de force makeover of Abernathy.
    “A lot of people say you can wear pastel only near Easter, but I disagree,” Theo said confidently as he ledhis student into the downstairs closet. “With your gray skin tone, soft colors will do wonders for you.”
    “And you’re sure plaid and pastel go together?” Abernathy asked timidly.
    “Plaid plus pastel plus fanny pack equals cool. End of discussion,” Theo stated assuredly before breaking into some awkward stretches. “And as a special bonus, for today only, you are getting a one-on-one dance session with none other than Rumpmaster Funk.”
    “Let me guess—you’re Rumpmaster Funk.”
    “That’s right,” Theo said as he broke into a movement that combined jumping jacks with a rogue hula hoop motion.

    As Lulu, Theo, Madeleine, and Garrison worked tirelessly, time appeared to move at an accelerated speed. Soon Abernathy knew the names of all 192 United Nations member states, the starting lineup for the Yankees, and how to maintain eye contact. But most impressively, Abernathy had accomplished all of this while dressed in pastel and plaid. However, absolutely no progress was madewhere Mrs. Wellington was concerned. Abernathy still growled and snarled whenever she spoke to him.
    After hearing of Schmidty’s unsuccessful hypnosis session with Mrs. Wellington, Garrison decided to take the lead where Abernathy was concerned. He simply couldn’t bear the idea of spending the rest of his life as a fraud, sending postcards from phony surfing holidays in Hawaii and Bali.
    “You are falling into a deep trance,” Garrison said to Abernathy, who was lying nearly horizontal in the dentist chair in the Fearnasium. “Your eyelids are growing heavier by the second. Soon, you will have no choice but to close them.”
    Lulled by Garrison’s commanding voice, Abernathy quickly closed his eyes. At this point the tanned boy stared at the man’s peaceful gray face and froze. Garrison simply hadn’t a clue what to do next. “Um, we are currently experiencing technical difficulties. Please be patient, and we will be with you shortly.”
    “Technical difficulties?” Lulu surprised Garrison from behind. “This isn’t the cable company; you can’t just put him on hold.”
    “What are you doing here?”
    “You didn’t really think I was going to miss your first hypnosis session, did you?”
    “It’s a disaster! What am I supposed to say?”
    Lulu winked at Garrison before bluntly asking what everyone was dying to know: “Abernathy, why do you hate Mrs. Wellington?”
    The man’s eyes fluttered rapidly beneath his eyelids, much as one might see in someone suffering a seizure.
    “Maybe I shouldn’t have asked that—what if it sends him into some sort of coma?”
    “No way,” Garrison muttered quietly in response. “That’s ridiculous. You’re starting to sound like Theo.”
    “I’ll deny saying this if you ever tell him, but sometimes Theo is actually right. What if this is one of those times? What if I have accidentally caused our one and only hope of saving the school to have a seizure?”
    As the color drained from Garrison’s overly bronzed face, Abernathy slowly opened his chapped pink lips. Both Lulu and Garrison stared