I decided to shut up before I drove him from the room. This was awful. If my best friend hated me, how would strangers treat me? I thought about what my life would be like if I didn’t find the final palindrome. I’d never be able to talk to anyone again. People would just groan at me and stop listening. Everyone would hate me. They wouldn’t take anything I said seriously. I’d have to live someplace where nobody spoke English. They wouldn’t understand me, but at least they wouldn’t hate me.

The day dragged on. As it got close to three-thirty, I decided all I could do was go to the library and give Professor Wordsworth what I had. Maybe he’d give me more time, or a different task. Either way, it was my only hope.

I glanced at the clock again. One minute to go.

“Well, Logan,” Mr. Vernack said, walking over to my desk. “You’ve been extremely quiet these last few days. I’d like you to join the discussion. We don’t want Ms. Glott to think you don’t like our lessons.” He pointed to the chalkboard. “Please pick one of those words and use it in a sentence.”

I stared at the list on the board. Device, conduct, example, satellite, protest. It didn’t matter which word I picked. Any one of them would doom me when it turned into a pun. Whatever I said, Mr. Vernack would get angry. My best chance was to keep my mouth shut.

“I want an answer from you right now,” he said. “Or you can stay after class.”

After class! Oh no! If he kept me after, I’d never get to the library on time. I had to say something. But Mr. Vernack was so angry now that I knew he’d make me stay if I said a pun.

I was doomed either way. I sat there with my mouth open.

“MY PANTS!” Benedict screamed. “My pants are on fire.” He leaped from his desk and ran toward the front of the room.Then he started jumping up and down and slapping at his legs with both hands.

Everyone stared at him.

He kept slapping for a moment, then glanced down and said, “Wait. My mistake. Never mind.”

As Benedict walked back toward his seat, he grinned at me. Right then, the bell rang. Everyone started to rush out.

“Okay, okay, class dismissed,” Mr. Vernack said. “Except for . . .”

I held my breath.

“Benedict,” he said.

I guess imaginary burning pants were a lot worse than not answering a teacher. I slipped away and ran out of the building. “Thanks, Benedict,” I said to myself as I raced down the school steps and headed for the sidewalk. What a pal I had. I owed him a lot.

But I was still in trouble. I reached the library and went down to the reference section.