Life of Me, The #14

“Welcome, everyone, to the first meeting of the Reading Gym,” Mr. Rock said as I settled into my chair and tried to concentrate on what he was saying.

By the way, concentration is never easy for me, but it was especially hard with Zoe the Wonderful sitting next to me. All my brain kept thinking about was how someone so cool could be in Reading Gym. I mean, let’s face it. As much as they tried to make this sound like a fun after-school athletic club, it was still a class for those of us who aren’t exactly swift learners.

I wondered if she was wondering about me. Like, what’s this guy doing in here? What’s his problem? Is he flunking out of fifth grade?

“First, I want to congratulate each of you on making the decision to attend the Reading Gym,” Mr. Rock went on. “Each and every one of you is an individual. You are all so different in your own ways, and at the same time, you all share one thing in common.”

“Yeah, we’re stupid,” Luke Whitman said, taking his finger out of his nostril just long enough to shout out this insulting remark.

I hadn’t even noticed that Luke Whitman was there and was picking his nose as always. This should tell you how much I was focused on Zoe. I mean, it’s almost impossible not to notice Luke Whitman picking his nose. It’s so gross you just have to stare at him, like when you skin your knee really bad and you just have to keep staring at the scab.

“No one in here is stupid in any sense of the word,” Mr. Rock said, handing Luke a Kleenex from the pop-up box he kept on a side table.

“You think that’s gross,” I whispered back. “Every day he uses a different finger to go digging. And the amazing thing is, he always finds something.”

Zoe cracked up and that made me feel pretty good. Maybe I had learning challenges, but the Zipzer attitude was in fine form.

“What you guys share,” Mr. Rock went on, “is that you all learn differently. And no matter how you learn, it has nothing to do with your intelligence. What we’re going to be doing in here is working on giving you techniques that will help you learn in a style that’s best for you.”

Look at this. We’re having a real conversation, Zoe and me. Just like that. No sweat. Just talking. Wow, this is really something.

Mr. Rock spent the next few minutes describing what was going to happen in the Reading Gym. Each student was going to create a book that told the story of his or her life. We’d all have to write the book, illustrate the book, and then read the book to the group. And while we were making our life-story books, each of us would be working on our own individual learning issues like reading, writing, spelling, following directions, and so on.

Leave it to Mr. Rock to come up with a really interesting assignment like that. For a minute, I actually thought it was too bad I was going back to Tae Kwon Do and not staying in Reading Gym for the whole ten weeks. It sounded like fun. Of course, not as much fun as breaking a board with your bare hands. Once Principal Love got through the history of Tae Kwon Do and got into the actual kicking and board-breaking part, the class was going to really rock.

“Now,” Mr. Rock said, “how about we go around the room and have each of you say what is most difficult for you in school. That will help me figure out an individual strategy to help you. Let’s start at this end of the room. Hank, that’s you.”

Mr. Rock. What are you thinking? Can’t you see I’m working hard to impress Zoe? And you want me to confess that I can’t read, can’t spell, can’t do math, and can’t do well in anything at school except lunch?

“Well,” I said, trying to flash the old Zipzer grin. “I’m just here because I was doing the Tae Kwon Do class in the gym and I was getting tired of looking at the principal’s knees, so I thought I’d take a hike across the hall until we get to the fighting and punching and kicking stuff.”

“Hank,” Mr. Rock said. “I see you’re not ready to share your issues, and that’s okay. Let’s move on to the young lady sitting next to you. What is your name?”

“Zoe,” she said. “I go to PS 9 and I’m in the fifth grade, but I read at a third-grade level because I have tracking difficulties with my eyes.”

Wow. She just said it all, right out there. She doesn’t care who knows that she reads at a third-grade level. That girl is fearless.

“We can work on that,” Mr. Rock said. “Reading exercises will make your eye muscles stronger and help you track better.”

He gave her a big grin, and she smiled back at him. I wanted to be part of this smile fest. I stuck my hand up and waved it around urgently.

“My name is Hank Zipzer, I go to PS 87, and I’m in the fifth grade, too. I don’t know what grade level I read at, but I can tell you it’s just above kindergarten. And I stink at spelling, and you can add math to that, too. I could wrap it up by saying I have learning challenges.”

“Excellent, Hank,” he said. “The first step in getting help is to acknowledge that you need help. There’s a lot we can accomplish in the Reading Gym.”

“Whoa there, Mr. Rock,” I said. “I’m not actually in the Reading Gym. I mean, I’m in the Reading Gym, but not actually in the Reading Gym, if you know what I mean.”

After me, we went around the room and the other kids said what their school problems were. At least, I think that’s what they said. I have to admit that I was only half listening. The other half of me was watching Zoe. I noticed that she was a doodler, just like me. She spent the whole hour drawing lightning bolts all over the front of her notebook with a glittery purple pen. She was a leg shaker like me, too. Her knee bounced up and down like it had a motor in it.

“Are you going to stay in Reading Gym for the whole ten weeks?” I whispered to her, just after a shy girl named Chelsea described how she had difficulty reading because she was dyslexic and reversed letters on the page.

“Sure,” said Zoe. “But it sounds like you’re not staying. Too bad. We could have fun.”

Hold on, ears! Did you just hear what I heard? She thinks we could have fun. Oh, yeah. Hank and Zoe. Zoe and Hank. Having fun.

“Well, actually, I’m not exactly sure what I’m doing,” I said. “I mean, I told my two best friends that I’d do martial arts.”

Wow, this girl really gets me. I mean, look, we’re already talking like we’ve known each other our whole lives.

We listened for a minute while another kid, Brandon Clarke, explained his reading difficulties. When he finished talking, I suddenly heard my mouth whispering something that my brain hadn’t planned to say.

“You know what?” I whispered to Zoe. “I’ve decided to stay here. I think Reading Gym will be much more fun than some old martial arts class. And besides, my friends have each other.”

Was that me talking? The same me that had been looking forward to Tae Kwon Do for weeks? The me that couldn’t wait to execute roundhouse kicks and leap in the air like a pouncing tiger? Hank Zipzer, have you lost your mind?

I finally meet the blue-eyed, hat-wearing, learning-challenged, drum-playing, roundhouse kicking girl of my dreams, and can you believe it, she’s a . . . I can barely even say it . . . she’s a McKelty!