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Umberto transferred into our class,” I say. “He’s been egging me on, looking for trouble.”
    â€œReally? Because from what I saw today, YOU were the one starting the conflict.”
    awkward
    I look down at my sneakers, feeling suddenly awkward. “You’ve known me since kindergarten—I’m not someone who looks for trouble.”
    Ms. McCoddle softens a bit. “Umberto had good grades at his last school with no discipline problems. Plus, he seems like a nice kid. So I suggest you two come to some sort of understanding before things get out of hand.”
    As she talks, she stands on a chair and pins up posters of penguins and glaciers, getting ready for the section we’re starting on Antarctica. I try to get on her good side by handing her thumbtacks.
    â€œKids with various disabilities sometimes have it tougher than other kids,” Ms. McCoddle says. “You should know that.”
    irritated
    I’m irritated she’s bringing up my poor reading skills as a way to force a connection between Umberto and me. I hold the thumbtack too far for her to reach and watch her wobble on the chair.
    â€œEveryone has obstacles to overcome,” she continues. “You and Umberto might have a lot in common after all.”
    â€œWhy aren’t you giving HIM this lecture?” I ask as I finally give her the thumbtack. “He’s the one going out of his way to stir up trouble.”
    She carefully climbs off the chair, weighing her words. “I’m telling you because I know you. I’m asking you, as a favor, to smooth things out.”
    Ms. McCoddle smiles at me now with such warmth that she could almost melt the ice in the photos behind her.
    comply
    I decide to comply with her wishes and point to the collage. “How come you didn’t put up any polar bears?”
    â€œPolar bears live in the Arctic, at the North Pole. The only time they’re near penguins is at the zoo.”
    instigating
    Thankfully, she doesn’t give me grief about not doing the reading or knowing my geography. I head to my locker, determined to set things right with Umberto even if he’s the one who’s been instigating all the trouble. I just hope we’re not like penguins and polar bears—thousands of miles away from each other with nothing to connect us but ice.

Comedy Club
    categories
    Between my talk with Ms. McCoddle and cartoon club starting this week, I push my troubles with Umberto to the back of my mind. Five kids have signed up, but thankfully not Umberto. Since Matt’s club is on Tuesday and mine’s on Thursday, I help him prepare for his first. He finds several clips in his giant DVD collection, then puts them into different categories: action comedies, buddy comedies, horror comedies, gross-out comedies, fish-out-of-water comedies. All the work he’s put into his club makes me wonder if I’m prepared enough for mine.
    â€œEight kids have signed up. Do you think that’s enough?” Matt asks.
    I tell him my club has even less. “Besides, once word gets out how funny your club is, you’ll have more kids wanting to join.”
    â€œDo you think Mr. Owens will be okay?” Matt asks. “He’s not the first teacher you think of when you think funny .”
    I stop in my tracks. “You’re actually WORRIED about this? You’re not supposed to get stressed out about comedy.”
    â€œI just want everything to be good,” Matt says. “You know how Mr. Owens likes to comment on everything all the time.”
    monitor
    I remind Matt that every after-school club needs a teacher to monitor it, and Mr. Owens was the only one who agreed to help. “Everything’s going to be fine. You can’t go wrong with comedy.”
    I feel as if I’ve actually acted like a good best friend because Matt calms down as we head to the classroom he’s reserved.
    The usual suspects are there—Pete,