Charlie Joe Jackson's Guide to Not Growing Up (7 page)

“I don't remember that,” I said. Again … lie.

The shakes came, and I downed half of mine in one gulp. I drink milkshakes really fast when I feel a little nervous. And also, when I don't feel nervous at all. And everything in between.

Katie, meanwhile, took a tiny sip. “Charlie Joe, you spent so much time liking Hannah Spivero. Like, years.”

“Do we have to talk about this on my birthday?” I whined.

“You're right, Charlie Joe, that's old news,” Megan said. “Let's talk about you two. So Katie, what's the deal? When do you have to decide about private school?”

“Like, in the next few weeks, I think,” Katie answered.

Megan chomped on an onion ring. “That's so cool,” she said. “Are you psyched about it? I mean, private school sounds kinds of awesome in a way, right? It's almost like being in college.”

“I guess,” Katie said. “But I would miss my friends a lot.”

“Totally,” Megan agreed.

“I kind of think you should totally go,” I said, out of the blue.

“Huh?” said Katie.

I gulped some more shake. “I mean, why not? Everything else is changing around here. What's one more totally changing thing? Out with the old, in with the new, on to the next, right?”

They both stared at me like I had two heads.

Here's why: When Katie first told me she was thinking of going to private school, I kind of freaked out a little bit.

Fine, not a little bit—a lot.

Fine, not a lot—a ton.

It was right at the time when we were realizing we liked each other, after Zoe had moved away, and I couldn't believe the timing. Going to private school isn't exactly the same as moving, but it's basically the same thing, right? It's basically out of your life, right? Anyway, I started thinking about all the ways I could make sure she wouldn't go to private school, so we could be together. One of those ways involved a cupcake-eating chicken named Cletus. It wasn't pretty.

So the fact that I was encouraging her to go to private school after all that was kind of shocking. To them, and to me.

“Are you serious?” Katie asked. “Or is this a joke? I can't tell.”

“Me neither,” I said.

“You're lucky it's your birthday, otherwise I'd be getting really mad right about now,” Katie said, which was funny because she was sounding plenty mad already.

I raised my hands in that clueless kind of way. “What did I do? I'm just encouraging you to go away if that's what you want.”

“Who said that's what I want?”

“I think I know what's going on here,” Megan jumped in. “Charlie Joe, Katie is a little hurt that you aren't asking her to stay here with you.” Megan shifted her gaze from me to Katie. “And sorry, Katie, but my brother is acting out, the way he always does when he gets nervous. He's obviously a little uptight about everything that's happening and graduating from middle school and going to high school, and the fact that things got weird at Jake's party, and that it's all happening on his birthday, so it's a little hard for him to think straight right now.”

Megan looked at me, nodding her head as if to say,
Jump in anytime, dummy
.

“Absolutely!” I said. “You know I want you to stay! It's just, yeah, I'm not gonna lie, I am a little freaked out by everything that's going on today.”

“I'm going to wait in the car with the dogs,” was Katie's answer. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” I said, but she was gone by then.

I went back to my burger, and Megan went back to her salad, and neither of us said anything.

After about five minutes, Megan slurped the last of her diet coke, then looked at me. “Life gets more complicated as you get older, huh?”

I nodded. “You're telling me,” I said.

It was true. Things were so much simpler, once upon a time.

 

FLASHBACK!!

After the first few months of kindergarten, young Charlie Joe Jackson got over his fear of school and was already starting to establish his position as one of the most interesting characters in his class. He wasn't big on reading, that much was true, but otherwise, he was smart, lively, funny, and interested in the world around him. He'd made some friends, too: his next-door neighbor, the adorable blonde-headed boy named Timmy McGibney, who was still a little annoying but also funny and reliable; and Pete Milano, whose main claim to fame was that he shoved things up his nose that weren't all that easy to get out.

These three young boys loved recess, where they got to run around, play games, and let out all that little-boy energy that had been pent up inside them all morning in the classroom. Their favorite activity, by far, was kickball. Many boys in the grade felt the same way: and so, on most days, the softball field was filled with running, throwing, kicking, yelling, and all sorts of kickball fun.

One day, however, everything changed.

It was the middle of the game, and Charlie Joe was pitching. He was a tricky little pitcher, rolling the ball with a wicked spin that made it hard to kick. After a strapping young boy named Phil Manning popped up to second base, he angrily kicked the ground and said, “Charlie Joe, you're not pitching fair!”

“Yes, I am,” Charlie Joe said. “It's not my fault if you can't kick it.”

“Nobody can kick it!” Phil responded.

Other boys started piping in. “Yeah, Charlie Joe, pitch fair! No spinning! Cut it out!”

“You guys are all a bunch of chickens!” Charlie Joe hollered back.

This typical back-and-forth went on for a few more seconds until suddenly a strange voice rang out.

“Do you guys mind if I try?” the voice said. “Charlie Joe, will you pitch to me?”

All the boys' heads turned in a single direction—toward the fence behind first base, where a girl was standing.

The girl walked over to Charlie Joe. He recognized her—her name was Katie, and she was in his class.

“I'd like to play,” said Katie. “Would that be okay?”

Charlie Joe shook his head. “This is a boys' game,” he said. “Sorry.” He turned around, back to his friends. “Okay, who's up?”

Charlie Joe was about to go back to the mound when Katie spoke out again.

“I'm sorry,” she said. “But why is it a boys' game? Shouldn't a girl be allowed to play if she wants to?”

“What?” Charlie Joe said, dumbly.

Katie marched up to Charlie Joe. “I would like to play kickball. And if you don't let me, I may have to go tell a teacher.”

Well, this was certainly a tough situation for young Charlie Joe. He hated the idea of giving in to a girl. But he certainly didn't want a teacher to tell him he couldn't play kickball anymore.

“Okay, fine,” he said. “One pitch, and that's it.”

“Deal,” Katie said. She stuck out her hand. Charlie Joe stared at it for a second, then shook it.

“You're weird,” he said to Katie.

“Thank you,” she said back.

Charlie Joe turned toward his friends. “Okay, this girl wants to try and see if she can play. So she's up.”

Everybody moaned and groaned.

“Just one pitch!” Charlie Joe yelled. “No sweat!”

Katie walked up to home plate. Charlie Joe stood on the mound and stared down at her. He was trying to make her nervous. It looked like it was working.

I'm going to give her my secret special super-spin pitch
, Charlie Joe thought to himself. He wound up and threw. The ball wobbled and bounced and spun its way down the dirt path to home plate. Charlie Joe waited for her to swing and miss. That would show the girls once and for all—

THWACK!

Katie kicked a solid line drive out past third base. It rolled to a stop near the jungle gym, where a yellow-haired girl named Eliza Collins was busy telling her two best friends that she was going to be on the Disney channel one day.

Charlie Joe and his friends stood there, shocked that Katie actually kicked the ball, while she started running around the bases.

Finally, Charlie Joe screamed “Here! Here!” to Phil Manning, who was playing left field. Phil, who was by far the best athlete in the grade, picked up the ball and effortlessly threw it right to Charlie Joe, who was still standing on the mound.

By then, Katie was rounding third base and heading for home.

“Get her!” his teammates shouted, but for some reason, Charlie Joe didn't throw the ball at her, which would have gotten her out. Instead, he held on to the ball for a split second too long, and then, when he finally threw it, the ball missed Katie by two feet.

“I scored! I scored!” she squealed, jumping up and down. A bunch of her friends came over and started jumping with her.

Charlie Joe's friend Timmy came over to talk to him. “What the heck happened? You had her by a mile!”

Charlie Joe shook his head. “Uh…” was all he managed to say. Then he caught Katie's eye. “Can we get back to our game now?” he grumbled. “Are you satisfied?”

Katie was smiling. “Yes, you may,” she said.

“Great.” Charlie Joe was just about to pitch to the next batter when he noticed that Katie was still standing there. He looked up at her. She winked, then silently mouthed two words
: Thank You.

 

8

1:37 pm

“Jackson, what are you thinking
about? Snap out of it!”

I looked up. Mr. Radonski, my crazy lunatic of a gym teacher, was standing over me, two giant tubs of soda in his hand.

“These are diet, by the way,” he added. Then he pointed at my milkshake. “That stuff will kill you.”

“But I'll die happy,” I said.

Mr. Radonski peered at my sister. “I know you,” he said. “I had you in class.”

“Megan,” Megan said. “Charlie Joe's sister.”

“You were a GREAT kid!” Mr. Radonski exclaimed. “So well behaved!” He shifted his gaze to me. “What the heck happened to you?”

I shrugged. “Just lucky, I guess.”

Mr. R. took a big gulp of his drink. “Hey, Jackson, I know you have graduation later, but we're heading up to Jookie's for a little while. I'm refereeing an air hockey tournament. Why don't you come along?”

“That's where we're headed!” my sister butted in. I shot her a look. The Jookie's/air hockey part sounded fun, but the tagging along with Mr. Radonski part sounded a little less fun.

“It's my birthday today,” I said, which was turning into my standard answer for everything.

“Well, why didn't you say so?!” Mr. Radonski hollered, smacking me on the back. He probably thought he was being playful, but I was pretty sure it would end up leaving a mark. “Honey, we got a birthday boy here!” Two seconds later, a woman I'd never seen before was standing at Mr. R's side, smiling down at me.

“Charlie Joe, Megan, I'd like you to meet my fiancée, Aurora,” said Mr. Radonksi. “Aurora, Charlie Joe here is graduating from middle school today. And for some crazy reason, I'm going to miss his sorry butt.”

I blinked, looking up at the nice, pretty, normal-looking woman. Then I looked back at my gym teacher. “Wait a second. You're engaged? You're getting married again? To her?”

Mr. Radonski frowned. “What are you trying to say, kid? That you don't understand how someone like Aurora would want to marry someone like me?”

“No, no, of course not!” I said immediately. “I totally get it! It's more like, I, uh, just thought you liked, you know, being, you know—” I stopped talking, because there was no way I was going to finish that sentence without getting myself into more trouble.