Help, I can't stop writing for this little, nonsense series! lol But when I say I got this idea immediately after the last one, I mean immediately.
Title: Round-robin is a game used by teachers to informally observe learned information in an interactive and entertaining way. The approach incorporates each student in the class instead of the same three or four students contributing to the class discussion or question-and-answer period.
Random info: The reading level system Isabel mentions is the Fountas Pinnell reading program. AKA my life for the first six weeks of school. Joy.
Round Robin
Chapter 1
It was a crying shame.
Or at least that's what her mom always said when she saw something unfortunate happening to good people.
Isabel doodled nonsensical swirls on the edges of her math worksheet, the point of her pencil dulled after a night of math and spelling homework. The problems were done. All her math work was shown, as per Mr. Greene's rules. By all accounts, she had plenty of time to get her reading done for the night. If she really pushed herself, she could probably finish that chapter from her Harry Potter book and catch up with Ariel.
But her mind kept drifting back to Daredevil and his impromptu lesson on the importance of listening to Mr. Greene.
And the read aloud.
Isabel narrowed her eyes at the black-and-white illustration of a basket of apples on her sheet. She wasn't stupid. They had promised to help him read, and the only thing he'd read was the title of the book. Grumpy Monkey. None of those words were sight words, but they weren't particularly hard to sound out, either. Even Hayden could have read the title with no problem.
Her pencil stilled on a half-drawn heart. Daredevil was probably scared to read in front of a crowd, especially a crowd that was made up of Justin and George. The boys were nice and all, but they never let people think when they needed to think. How could Daredevil concentrate on sounding out words when those boys were moving around all over the carpet?
Mr. Greene had the right idea when he did small groups at his teacher table.
Isabel rocketed to her feet. Her pencil flew over her shoulder. That was it!
"Isabel?" Her mom peeked into her room, the front of her shirt dusted with flour. She'd mentioned something about breading chicken for tomorrow's dinner. "Did you finish your homework?"
Isabel whirled around to double-check that, yes, her math work hadn't vanished into the ether. She nodded a bit too enthusiastically. "Yeah, Mom. Showed my work and everything."
Her mom smiled. She didn't know what that meant; she was just happy that Isabel did homework at all. Between her and her brother, Isabel really didn't cause a lot of trouble. "That's great, honey. Your bedtime is in half an hour, so make sure you brush your teeth."
When her door swung close Isabel facepalmed, then rubbed the bridge of her nose, just how Mr. Greene did when someone poured milk chocolate onto their mashed potatoes during lunch. Dammit. She wasted all that time thinking, and now the night was done.
Actually, she reasoned with a glance at her ceiling, she doubted Daredevil had a bedtime.
Soon she was tucked into the covers of her bed. Isabel laid there, watching car headlights bypass the blinds of her window to race across her ceiling. She strained her ears for noise beyond her bedroom door. She had learned long ago how to mute the racket of Hell's Kitchen to focus on sounds in her apartment.
Her mom was walking around the living room, cleaning up whatever dared be in her path. Her footsteps were light, but not light enough; the soles of her slippers were worn with time.
Her brother was throwing his things into his backpack for tomorrow. He kept muttering something, probably about the homework he didn't finish.
Silence was slow to come, and Isabel nodded off once or twice as she waited, but the next time she opened her eyes the hallway light was off, and the apartment had grown quiet.
She waited another beat before slowly, with the silence she reserved for the most high-stake hide-and-seek games, she scoured her room for her materials.
From her bookshelf, Isabel fished out the paperback graded readers Mr. Greene printed out for them for reading groups every week. Their edges were bent, the covers peppered with doodles, but they were still intact and, most importantly, readable. She didn't know what reading level Daredevil was, so she just took them all.
After fishing out her pencil bag and reading folder from her backpack, Isabel dared to open the door of her bedroom. By the shine of her hallway's night light, she saw the darkened expanse of the living room. There was only the sofa and the bookshelf in the corner to use as hiding spots, so she had to be quick.
Isabel closed her door and made her way past her mom and brother's rooms, past the living room, and through the front door with nothing but the light of her cell phone to light the way.
The building hallway smelled of dogs. Isabel was quick to leave it for the stairwell. One flight. Two flights. She made sure to hold onto the rail because even if Daredevil did come she doubted he would know where she was if she fell.
When she pushed open the rooftop door, cool air immediately hit her, carrying with it the scent of car exhaust and the Thai restaurant across the street. Isabel walked across the rooftop with her study materials held closely to her chest. From this high up, she saw her neighborhood as a sprawling blanket of wires, neon signs, and dark windows.
She kicked an empty beer can out of the way, suddenly wishing she had brought a chair or even a sofa cushion to sit on. Isabel hesitated, looking this way and that for something that could even qualify as a teacher table.
There, by the rooftop's east edge.
Isabel set her materials down on the giant, wooden spool with her phone's flashlight on and illuminating the study space. She'd seen these when she'd gone with her mom to Home Depot, but those held cables and weren't so scratched up. She bounced in place, looking for something to sit on and merely finding a cardboard box. After a moment of deliberation, Isabel slid it to the side opposite of the table.
She hoped Daredevil didn't mind sitting on something so smelly after a night of crime fighting.
She bit her lip. Okay, now came the hard part.
When Aaron asked Mr. Greene how he'd met Daredevil— he'd asked during Quiet Time, with the classroom door closed— Mr. Greene told them that someone wanted to take his backpack, and Daredevil had stopped him.
"But how did Daredevil know you were being robbed?" Hayden asked, voice rising to make sure his question would be answered.
Mr. Greene frowned in thought. He'd been working at his laptop, but now he half-closed the lid to give the class his full attention. "I don't know," he admitted. "I think he has good hearing. Like really good hearing. So I think he heard me when I was telling the guy to not take my stuff."
Isabel tapped the flat surface of her makeshift teacher table. There was no way to know just how good Daredevil's hearing was, so she would have to test it.
"Mr. Daredevil," she started at a Level 1 whisper, glancing towards a point in the horizon where two buildings resided; the gap between them was small enough where even she could jump it, "my name's Isabel, and I'm in Mr. Greene's class. I helped you read the page about how Jim Panzee learned to swim with the hippos."
She paused and waited. Somewhere nearby, a car alarm went off. Rude. How was Daredevil supposed to hear her with that going on? (It was never someone actually stealing a car anyway.)
After a moment, Isabel tried again, raising her voice to a normal speaking level: Level 2. This time there was a slight echo. "Mr. Daredevil, my name's Isabel, and I'm in Mr. Greene's class…" And so on she repeated, making sure she enunciated each word carefully. It would do her no good for Daredevil to hear her but not understand her.
Afterwards she waited again. She paced the length of the rooftop and wondered if Daredevil could hear the crunch of gravel under her slippers. She was never allowed here. "People go up there to do bad things," her mom had told her, but ever since her brother had brought her up here— to keep her crying out of their mother's earshot— Isabel found it peaceful.
No one to tell her to wipe her mouth after every Cheeto.
No one to remind her to keep her hair up when she was playing, even if it made her head hurt.
Isabel came to the spool table and decided to go up to Level 3: her presenter voice. Maybe Daredevil was too far to hear her.
She took a deep breath and straightened her back, lifting her chin just how they were taught to when presenting their books to the class. Otherwise her words wouldn't carry. "Mr. Daredevil, my name is Isabel, and—"
"What are you doing?"
The voice was soft, but she still jumped at least a foot in the air. A hand grabbed her arm to steady her. Isabel braced herself against the spool table to look up. Her heart was still speeding, but her smile was quick to come.
"You're here!" she said as Daredevil gently let her go.
He was dressed in his devil costume this time. Isabel didn't know why so many people found it scary. It was just red and black armor, like what the police wear when they're preparing to go somewhere dangerous. Sure his helmet had those horns, but they were too small to actually do any damage. Baby goats had similar horns.
Daredevil still had the same black boots as last time, and Isabel smiled when she remembered his very fluffy socks. (They'd been striped, like candy canes.) Her brother sometimes made fun of all her colorful socks. If only he knew that Daredevil himself wore them when he was out fighting crime and rescuing people.
Not that she would ever tell him. Daredevil was their class secret.
"Isabel?" Daredevil asked, voice deep but not scary deep. "Are you okay?"
She smoothed down her smile a notch. She couldn't be a good teacher if she was smiling too much to even talk. "Yeah, I'm okay. I'm not hurt or anything." He visibly relaxed. Isabel continued, "I'm really glad you heard me, Mr. Daredevil. You do remember me, right?"
He still looked confused, frowning and tilting his head like a dog when you hide its toy. That wasn't really a normal thing for someone to do, or at least she never saw anybody else do it like that. Still he nodded. "You were sitting next to your friend, Ariel, in the middle."
Wow, he had a great memory. "That's right. She really is sorry about asking you to read."
Daredevil crouched down to her eye level. There was some stubble along his cheeks. Instead of seeing his eyes she just saw reflective red lenses. "Isabel, I'm glad you're okay, but why did you call me?"
Okay, she had to channel her inner Mr. Greene. Whenever he told someone they needed help reading he never said it so plainly. He always told them what they were doing right before telling them what they could improve on. Their Glows and Grows, as he called them.
"Your enthusiasm to read is great, and your presenter voice is excellent. But I noticed you didn't read a single page of Grumpy Monkey, " Isabel started carefully, "so I think it would really benefit you to read some more. With some help of course," she added in case he decided that reading by himself was too hard.
Confusion morphed into shock. Daredevil pulled back a bit. "I, umm, that's really kind of you."
That wasn't a yes or no. Isabel grabbed her stack of printed books and offered them to him like a magician spreading his cards to a willing participant. She made sure the cover pages were visible. "I don't know your reading level, so I brought all of the ones Mr. Greene has printed for me. Which one would you like to read with me?"
Daredevil frowned that confused frown again. He lifted a gloved hand but didn't immediately pick one.
Isabel tried not to let her disappointment show. She didn't really have a Plan B in case Daredevil didn't want to read, and the thought of being left alone on the rooftop was honestly pretty sad. "Sorry they don't look very exciting. They're in black and white because Mr. Greene says they're not allowed to print in color unless it's something important."
"No, no, it's okay," he assured her and finally picked one, delicately and not like the boys in her class who handled the books like hacky sacks.
The book was called Mr. Harrison and his Band of Penguins . It was an M book, the level all third graders should be at when they begin school in August. Not a bad choice, and the black-and-white illustrations worked in this case.
"Okay, you sit there, and I can stay here," she instructed, pointing first at the only cardboard box she'd found in decent shape, then at the other end of the spool table.
Daredevil followed her finger. He held the book between both hands. A penguin peeked between his middle and forefinger. "You can sit if you want—"
"No, I'll stand. That way I can move around and help you, if you need it." She lowered her voice and tried to make it super gentle. "It's okay that you need help to read. I still need help when reading, even though I'm already reading the Harry Potter books."
Daredevil stopped playing with the edges of the book. For a moment, she feared he would run away and leave her to dry. Instead he took off his gloves, probably so he didn't damage the book. His fingers were white against the dark of his costume. "You sound like a great reader."
Isabel beamed. "Thank you!"
Daredevil sat on the offered box, knees together and elbows on the spool table. The box bent under his weight but didn't give. On the other end, Isabel hesitated. She didn't have her own copy like Mr. Greene always had, but she could make this work.
Instead of standing she pulled herself up to sit on the spool table. From this vantage point, she could reach her pencil bag and touch the pages of the book.
"Can you read the title?" she asked as she swung her legs over the edge.
Daredevil hemmed and hawed. He turned the book upside down, stopped when he ran his fingers over the stapled spine, then turned it the right way. However he still hadn't told her the title of the book.
Isabel went to grab his hand, then stopped. Mr. Greene always asked them before he touched them, unless it was an emergency. "Can I grab your hand, so I can show you where the title is?"
"Uh, sure."
His hand was bigger than hers, Heavier, too. His knuckles were bruised and stained with something she couldn't see in the limited light. Daredevil let himself be guided, head slowly following her movement.
"Mr. Harrison," she read for him, trailing his forefinger as she did so, "and his Band of Penguins. And is a sight word, so you'll be seeing it a lot in the book."
Daredevil nodded and smiled. He had a nice smile. It wasn't fake, just wide enough to pull his cheeks up. "I think I'll learn more if you read me the book first, like you just did. Maybe tell me which words are sight words? It's been a long time since I've been in school."
Isabel settled cross legged and flipped to the first page. She liked that idea. It would get him reading without putting him on the spot.
"Also," she interrupted when they were on the fourth page and the sixth penguin had escaped from the truck, "if you could sign my reading log for today, that would be great."
There were no words that could describe the happiness currently fluttering in her chest. ("Euphoric" came pretty close. Mr. Greene had covered that word during Reading last week.) It was better than when she found out she and Ariel would be in the same class. It completely overshadowed the time her table team won those extra points for their math project.
Daredevil had actually come and let her have a reading group with him.
During snack time, Isabel couldn't help but take a peek at her reading folder. There was Daredevil's signature. It wasn't the neatest or the fanciest signature she'd seen— it was two Ds, interlocked with loops and an ending flourish— but Mr. Greene hadn't raised his eyebrows at it. He'd just checked her off and moved on to the next folder in the stack.
Her smile faltered. Right. Mr. Greene.
He was at his desk cutting what looked like pieces of fractions for one of their math stations, labeled ziploc bags spread around his teacher table. Mr. Greene was wearing one of his dress shirts today—lilac— but he'd rolled up his sleeves to pass out their snacks and juice boxes. His khaki slacks already had two stray marks of dry erase marker.
Mr. Greene would want to know. After all, he made it very clear how big of a deal it was for Daredevil to even be in the school. Wouldn't the same apply if Daredevil was meeting with those same students outside of school?
He would probably tell Isabel to stop meeting with him in case someone saw.
But how was that fair for Daredevil? He worked so hard to save people in Hell's Kitchen, yet he wasn't allowed to receive help back? And on something so important as reading?
The class timer, projected on the smartboard, rang: snack time finished. Isabel hurried to eat the last bits of her muffin before putting her reading folder and her Harry Potter book away. Ariel shot her a funny look when she noticed her bookmark hadn't moved from where it had been at the beginning of snack time, but Isabel merely shrugged.
Recess, she mouthed to her best friend.
Recess? Michelle mouthed back across the table.
Isabel sighed. Okay, Michelle was trustworthy enough.
By the time recess rolled around, Ariel and Michelle were tailing her for more information. She shushed them as they waited in line for their bathroom break. She shushed them as Mr. Greene dismissed them, one by one, into the playground. Isabel shushed them and gave them a hard look when Mrs. Price's class ran past them. Those kids were nice enough, but Mr. Greene had made it clear: no one else must know.
"Barbara, I wanted to ask you about Unit 4 and those discussion questions…" Mr. Greene began to ask Mrs. Price, and that was Isabel's cue to drag her friends further into the playground.
The playground was okay, as far as playgrounds went. There were two playtowers under a giant, blue tarp, each one with one mini rock climbing wall and a slide that led safely away from a swing set. Further away, where gravel ended and dry grass began, was the field students used for soccer and tag. Already some of the boys were crowded around a soccer ball and hashing out who would be in what team. Isabel spotted some water bottles that designated the goal posts.
Isabel took Ariel and Michelle past the swings and near the fence that overlooked the parking lot.
" Now are you going to tell us?" Ariel whined.
Michelle didn't say anything, but she had started to bounce on the balls of her feet. Her short, black hair was already escaping her pigtails.
Isabel snuck a glance around her. No one seemed to be listening. "Do you guys remember when Daredevil read us that book in class?" How could they not? Isabel soldiered on before she lost her train of thought. "Well did you guys notice that he didn't read a single page?"
While Michelle shook her head, totally surprised, Ariel hummed in realization. A soccer ball rolled past their feet, but they paid it no mind.
"Well, last night, he came to my rooftop and—"
"Can you get the ball for us?" Aaron yelled, and Isabel was on the cusp of throwing her hands up in exasperation. It was always the boys that ruined the fun.
"We're kinda busy here!" she snapped as Aaron, George, Carson, and Drake rolled up into their personal space. They were within ball grabbing distance and they just stood there for some reason.
"Too busy to throw us the ball?" Drake quipped back.
"Yeah because she's too busy telling us what happened when Daredevil came to her rooftop last night," Michelle blurted out, not so subtly and entirely too loud for the topic at hand.
Isabel threw her hands up this time. "Really, Michelle?" she hissed. "Mr. Greene told us we're supposed to keep it a secret!"
"But they were there," Michelle said, completely not getting it. At least she lowered her voice some.
The boys came to them like flies to honey. "You met Daredevil last night?" George asked, barely keeping his voice steady.
So Isabel ushered them closer until all of them were sitting in a tight circle on the grass. (The soccer ball had been kicked to some of Mrs. Price's boys with some excuse about them getting too bored to play anymore.) Carson had taken guard to make sure nobody else walked in on a conversation they weren't meant to hear. His back was to them, but he was still listening.
"So what happened with Daredevil?" Aaron asked after they were settled.
"I noticed that he didn't read a single page when he did that read aloud with us," she pointed out. "So I called him last night, so I could do a reading group with him."
"How did you get Daredevil's phone number?" George asked.
Isabel gave him a deadpan look. Mr. Greene always said there was no such thing as a stupid question. She did not share that belief. "I asked Spider-Man for it."
"You know Spider-Man?!"
Drake elbowed George in the ribs. "She doesn't have his phone number, idiot. She just used her normal voice because Daredevil can hear everything that goes on in Hell's Kitchen."
George rubbed his side but didn't call for Mr. Greene. The conversation was much too important for tattling on someone.
"Did it help?" Carson asked.
Isabel pulled some grass near her shoes loose. "I think so. He still needs me to point out the words for him, but when I asked him to read it back he did it perfectly. I think he gets confused on where words end and begin."
"I had that problem last year," Michelle added.
Isabel didn't mention that Michelle still had that problem. (If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.)
"I could read to him, too," Aaron told her.
"He's not gonna learn if you just read him Panther Man comic books," she pointed out.
Aaron gave her a face. He didn't stick out his tongue, but he did scrunch his nose in her direction. It made him look like those annoying Yorkshire Terriers that never got adopted at the pet store. "I wouldn't read him those. I would read him the books Mr. Greene printed for us and maybe some Magic Tree House Books from the classroom library."
"I could read him some of my chapter books," Drake added. He didn't do that whine he normally did when he spoke, and that's how Isabel knew he was taking this seriously. Good. Drake was a great reader when he wanted to be.
Ariel raised her eyebrows. "He's not going to learn if we just read it all for him. That's what happened when he came to do the read aloud. If we're doing this then we have to make sure he's reading some of the pages, too. Otherwise we're just going to waste his time."
We? That sounded like a lot of people. Yet Isabel saw how long it took for Mr. Greene to meet with all of them during the week. One person couldn't do it all.
Isabel snapped her fingers to grab everybody's attention. "If we're going to do this then we need to plan what books and strategies we're going to do. It's not going to help Daredevil if we all pick the same book or if we all pick characterization to teach him. He's just going to get bored and not visit us when we call him."
That was the thing, too. Daredevil had a lot of crime fighting to do, and if their reading groups were too boring he would just find something else to do. He also mentioned he had a day job where he helped people. If he was already tired after doing his day job then they definitely could not waste his time at night.
Recess was only thirty minutes long, and they had already wasted at least a good fifteen just filling everybody in. Isabel spent the remaining time hashing out what strategy everybody was going to work on with Daredevil that week. ("No comic books," she reminded the boys one last time. They pouted but ultimately sucked it up for the greater good.)
When they lined up to head back inside, Isabel definitely caught the inquisitive stares from some of the other kids— including from the other class. After all, she rarely played with the boys during recess.
Isabel merely smiled pleasantly. It would take more than some raised eyebrows to make her crack.
George was many things, and brave was definitely one of them. He hoped.
As they were packing to leave for home, George approached his teacher's desk in slow, dragging steps. "Mr. Greene, do you have those books you printed for us for reading groups?"
Mr. Greene's eyebrows went up, and up, and George feared they would fly away if they kept going. He waited for Mr. Greene to reprimand him for bringing the issue up during dismissal, right when they were supposed to leave, but instead he asked, a bit hesitant, "What happened to the copies I gave you?"
George thought that some of them were at the bottom of his backpack until he checked. Maybe some were under his bed back home, but he couldn't actually check right now, during this specific moment in time. So logically it would be better if he just got extra copies right now.
"I don't know where they are," he answered honestly because Mr. Greene always appreciated honesty. (He also had that scary power of knowing when they were lying.) "But I wanted to read them tonight."
Mr. Greene ran his hand through his hair. He glanced at the door, where the class was already lining up, then to his own, messy desk. George fidgeted with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. Patience. Mr. Greene also appreciated patience.
Finally Mr. Greene shuffled through papers on his desk until he came out with a stack of printed and stapled books. George couldn't help the gasp from escaping his mouth. Mr. Greene was giving him his colored-versions. The ones he always told them he could only print for himself because the school didn't like teachers printing in color too much.
(Which made their worksheets super boring.)
"These are the ones for all the groups this month," Mr. Greene told him, handing them over. His eyes kept flicking towards the door, checking to see if anybody had wandered into the hallway. Then he focused his gaze on George. "Just search for the ones at your level. You can have your parents read you the ones that are more challenging for you."
Or Daredevil could. If Daredevil could save people from being hit then he could definitely read these books.
"Yeah, I'll do that," George said, but Mr. Greene was already walking away and reminding the class to line up in the order of their bus numbers.
Once he got home, George tried his best to keep the truth from showing on his face. He played with his little sister like he was supposed to and only had to remind her twice to not touch his backpack. (If she tore the books that were meant for Daredevil then that would suck so, so much.) George made sure to eat all his vegetables on his plate so he didn't have leftovers to eat later.
"Do you have homework?" his dad asked from the couch.
"It's not homework," George reminded him for the nth time. Mr. Greene always told them it wasn't homework but extra credit they could use for class points. Not homework.
And for the nth time, his dad nodded and settled to watch his game.
George went to his room before his sister spotted him and wanted to play another game of hide-and-seek. There he carefully fished out the stack of books Mr. Greene gave him. He spread them out before him on the carpet and picked out the ones he had read before with Mr. Greene and the easier ones he could definitely read.
Mr. Greene told them that he read the books before they met up in reading groups so he could focus on teaching the reading skills. So George did that now, starting with the first book he remembered reading with Mr. Greene. He read the words aloud again and again until he didn't trip up. He analyzed the (in color!) illustrations until he knew what they were without even looking at them.
Tonight was his night, according to the schedule Isabel had drawn up for them. If he messed up, that was one night Daredevil wouldn't practice his reading.
First the hallway light went out. Then his parents' voices disappeared behind their bedroom door.
Make sure everybody is asleep before you call for Daredevil, Isabel had told him in that voice she used when they were in the same math group. It was a scary voice and definitely not the one she used when talking with Ariel or Marinanne. (Maybe Michelle because Michelle could get pretty lazy during math groups.)
George didn't move until the clock on his cell phone read midnight. Then he gathered his books, his pencil bag, and snuck out of his room. He avoided his sister's scattered toys and his dad's work shoes to get to the front door. There were some men and women chatting in the hallway, laughing raucously and passing around a bottle of something that made his nose tickle.
George kept himself to the wall's edge until he got to the door that led to the roof. Daredevil could beat them up if they decided to try something funny.
He climbed the stairs two at a time. His mind buzzed with what he was going to say to Daredevil to call him over. It had to sound just right. Too excited and Daredevil wouldn't even understand him. Too serious and Daredevil would think something happened to him or Mr. Greene.
Plus Daredevil already knew he wasn't the best student. If he didn't get this just right then Daredevil would think he was wasting his time and not come at all.
The roof wasn't as fancy as other apartment rooftops he saw on Youtube videos, but it was alright. There were only a couple of cigarette butts lying around and no beer bottles, which was an improvement from his last apartment building. Someone had left three lawn chairs from last year's Fourth of July celebration, and George gladly took a seat on the nicest one.
Then he moved to the second nicest one. Daredevil deserved to have a good chair to sit on after a night of keeping Hell's Kitchen safe for them all.
"Mr. Daredevil," he started with a glance up at the sky; no one ever really saw where Daredevil came from, after all. "I hope you're out there fighting crime because I wanted to read with you. Like you did with Isabel." He hesitated, then raised his voice to clarify, "It's George, by the way. I was the first one you called on in Mr. Greene's class to ask a question."
George swung his legs as he waited. And waited. He gripped his chosen books and reviewed the first one with the light of his phone. "Mr. Daredevil, I have some really cool books to read with you. They're actually in color."
Then he reasoned that Daredevil would probably not find him in the middle of the rooftop if he was sitting down. He was tall but not big like an adult.
Leaving the books on the chair, George walked across the length of the rooftop to try and figure out where Daredevil would actually come from. From this vantage point, he could spot at least three more apartment buildings and some restaurants that were still open. Daredevil had revealed almost nothing about himself when they were asking him all those questions, so George had no earthly idea where he lived.
(Actually he didn't even know where Mr. Greene lived, and they saw each other almost every day at school.)
George reached the roof's edge. It wasn't that high up, but a trail of goosebumps still raced up his arms when he looked down and saw how small the cars looked. There was a faint click click that sounded like a flagpole during windy days, though there was no flag he could see. A cat yowled in some alley way that was too dark for him to see much of. Hell's Kitchen was so alive but still incredibly out of reach for someone like him.
But if he could search for Daredevil even just around the block then he wouldn't need to learn how to jump from building to building.
George grabbed the railing of the fire escape and decidedly kept his eyes on the metal steps. One foot forward. Another one, shaky but it still made contact with the step. George made it all of one floor down when he stopped, sat down, and realized that climbing down a fire escape by himself was not what a superhero would want a kid to do. Especially at night.
He'd promised Daredevil he would listen to Mr. Greene more. Even though Mr. Greene wasn't here, he had told the class enough times to not put themselves in dangerous situations.
"If you saw that, then I'm sorry. I won't do it again," he addressed the air.
Something changed; the click click had stopped.
George straightened when he saw a figure tear itself free from the shadows on the building across from his. It jumped from the ledge in a flip that was backlit by the Korean BBQ sign that kept him up at night. George scrambled up the few steps he'd managed to clear until he saw Daredevil waiting for him by the lawn chairs, one hand on his hip and the other holding one of his clubs.
And he was in his devil s uit . So much cooler than the black outfit he wore during the read aloud. (But both were cool. One just moreso.)
"George?"
George hurried to come up to him. "You saw, right? I stopped climbing down when I saw it would be too dangerous."
Daredevil smiled. It wasn't a superhero smile that people always wore on movie posters. This was the kind of smile Mr. Greene showed when he gets a handmade card or picture from one of them. "I did. Have you been listening to your teacher about staying safe?"
George nodded, enthusiastically and ready to have his parents message Mr. Greene right then and there to prove it.
Daredevil looked pleased, or at least he kept the smile. He turned his head at the little semicircle of lawn chairs they found themselves in until he picked up the stack of printed books. "You said you wanted to read to me?"
George perked up. Right, down to business. He placed his phone, flashlight up, on one of the chair's arms to illuminate the area. "Yeah! Isabel noticed that you didn't read to us during the read aloud, so you still need to practice your reading. So you can sit down and make yourself comfortable." George waved his hand at the nicest lawn chair and not the second or third nicest.
Daredevil looked confused for a moment before he took the offered seat. George took the stack of books— so Daredevil wouldn't get distracted— and picked out the one he'd been practicing earlier. After moving his chair beside Daredevil's, he sat, cross legged, and showed his student the cover.
"This book is called Patty's Not So Good Day. It's about a girl who makes some bad decisions, and her day turns out bad because of it. We're going to be studying cause and effect."
George spread the book out to the first page. There was Patty, adding more things to her backpack even when the picture clearly showed it was already half full. Mr. Greene had redone the small group with this book after Daredevil left, and George had tried to pay super close attention that time around. He'd promised Daredevil after all.
Patty kept making decisions that hurt her at the end, like not cleaning her backpack and putting in more things until her backpack split open while she was walking to school. Or not following the directions during Music, breaking an instrument, and having to explain to her parents why she got in trouble.
George imagined that many people Daredevil brought to the police had not so good days because of their own decisions.
"Can you read the first page for me?" George asked, pointing a finger at the starting sentence.
Daredevil tilted his head. His smile was now a small frown. George got a lot of those when he was trying to figure out a tough math problem. "I think I need your help."
Daredevil needed his help? There was no time to hide the smile that brought on. It hurt his cheeks and made him wiggle in place.
Unlike some kids, Daredevil didn't make fun of him for being so (rightfully) excited. Instead he asked, his frown now a grin, "Do you think you learned enough from Mr. Greene to teach me now?"
"Hell yeah!"
They settled in a rhythm of George reading a page, Daredevil slowly reading it back, and a discussion on how Patty's decisions led to her bad situations. George used his highlighter to circle the words Daredevil stumbled on. That way Daredevil could study them at home.
All in all, Daredevil proved to be a great student.
Or maybe George was just that good of a teacher.
Next and last part on Thursday: Nathan finds out and realizes he doesn't get paid nearly enough to deal with this.