“Gentlemen, as you know, the Norwegian rat is more than just an A student. The Norwegian rat realizes that life is a labyrinth but finds the way. There have been years when I have taught a whole class of Rattus rattus—all of them falling for traps. Remember rule number seven: reading is paying attention. It’s time for the final questions.”

“You guys are screwed,” Rick said in a stage whisper. The class giggled. Oglesby did not crack a smile.

“Let’s start with Mr. Boudreaux. What street is named for the mad general of the Revolutionary War in The Catcher in the Rye?”

Teddy plopped his arm on top of his head as if to slap the answer out of his skull. After five long seconds, he shook his head. Flanagan shot his hand up.

“It’s too late for you, Mr. Flanagan. And my condolences, Mr. Boudreaux. You may return to your seat.”

Teddy Boudreaux went from dejection to rage in two steps—kicking his chair over, to the delight of the whole class.

“Oh boy, Boudreaux’s going full Hulk on us.” Rick gritted his teeth in fake rage.

“Screw you, Dowlearn,” Teddy spat back.

“Gentlemen . . .” Oglesby pointed with his teaching stick for Teddy to pick up his chair and cool it.

“Sit down, clown, this ain’t no circus,” Rick added.

Teddy planted his chair upright in the blue carpet and slumped in the seat. Oglesby turned away from this nonsense, the class still chittering with laughter at the tantrum.

“Mr. O’Donnell?”

“Ready, sir.”

“Then tell me who supposedly dies at the Battle of Shrewsbury.”

“Hotspur!” Sticky blurted out with a relieved, if raspy, certainty.

Almost every one of the sophomores nodded his head in agreement. Trick question, Dan thought.

“I’m sorry, Mr. O’Donnell, that is incorrect.”

“What?” Sticky threw his hands in the air.

“No, that’s right!” Rob agreed.

“Silence, gentlemen.” Oglesby struck the teacher’s desk with a monstrous thwack. “The running commentary ends now. The Norwegian rat must smell the trap. Mr. Gilchrist, are you ready for your question?”

Sticky shuffled back to his seat while Chad Gilchrist tucked his Alex Van Halen behind his ears and nodded.

“What is Boo Radley’s first name?”

Gilchrist lit up like he had it.

“Nathan.”

Oglesby lowered his eyes and shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s his brother.”

Dan watched Chad immolate on the wrong answer. He did know it but had misspoken, somehow the answer getting tripped on its way to his tongue. I’m gonna be sick. Dan felt truly awful, partly for Gilchrist’s mistake but more so that it was now his turn.

“Mr. Malone, are you ready?” Oglesby barked at him.

“Yes, sir.”

“What country awards Gatsby a medal during the war?”