“Are you saying I treat you like a joke?” I asked. “Because I don’t.”
Katie gave an exaggerated shrug of her shoulders. “Whatever. Do what you want, it’s none of my business. I really don’t care. Seriously.”
“Okay,” I answered. “Glad to know you don’t care.”
We stared at each other for a few seconds.
“You know something, Charlie Joe?” Katie said, finally. “You make me act mean. And you make me act petty, and you make me not like myself sometimes. Thanks for that. Thanks a lot.”
And with that, she walked off toward the lake. I stood there for another minute, then I bent down to pet Gladys, who actually seemed happy to see me.
I went back to my family and sat down. That night, as I edited my school project on the computer, I thought about what Katie had said.
Sometimes you have to play by the rules.
She was right. Sometimes you do.
But not always.
27
“Hey, Mom?”
“What, honey?”
“I have a favor to ask you.”
It was the next morning, and I was eating my favorite cereal, ChocoFrostees. My mom had tried to get me to stop eating sugary cereals for years, but eventually we compromised when I agreed to add in a banana, which actually made it taste even better (I didn’t tell her that part).
“What’s the favor?”
“I need you to come to school today.”
“To pick you up?”
“No, during school.”
She looked up from her computer. “How come?”
“Because I need you to bring me something.”
“Okay, honey. What is it? Won’t it fit in your backpack?”
“Nope,” I said. “It’s bigger than that. A lot bigger.”
My mom sat down next to me. “Oooh, this sounds intriguing,” she said. “Tell me everything.”
So I did.
28
Pete Milano’s hero was Angus Young, the guitarist for the band AC/DC. According to Pete, Angus “changed the face of music forever, and he changed it really loud.”
“Thank you, Pete,” said Ms. Albone. “Food for thought.”
Pete looked confused. “What does food have to do with it?”
Betsy Armstrong’s hero was Betsy Ross. We all just assumed it was because they had the same first name, but Betsy said it was because “She sewed the fabric of our nation.”
“She most certainly did,” said Ms. Albone. “Well done, Betsy.”
Then it was Emory’s turn. His hero was some surfer whose name I forget. I remember how many times Emory used the word dude in his paper, though. Forty-two.
“And for our final presentation of the day,” Ms. Albone announced, Charlie Joe Jackson will tell us all about his personal hero.”
Right at that moment, I noticed Mrs. Sleep slip into the classroom. Yikes, the pressure was really on now.
I went up to the front of the room. I could feel Katie’s eyes on me. “Actually, Ms. Albone, I’m not.”
“You’re not?” asked Ms. Albone.
I walked behind her desk, reached up, and pulled the screen down. “I’m going to be doing something a little different.”
“I see,” Ms. Albone said. She looked skeptical for a second, but then she sat down.
I signaled to Jake, who turned the lights off. Then I plugged my computer into the projector in the back of the room. “Please enjoy this short film on my personal hero.”
NARRATION:
Hello, my name is Charlie Joe Jackson, and I’d like to tell you a little bit about my personal hero.
A SHOT OF MY FAMILY EATING DINNER.
He is a member of my family.
A SHOT OF MY FAMILY WATCHING TV
And he is an incredibly important part of my life.
A SHOT OF MY FAMILY HANGING OUT IN THE YARD
I would even go so far as to say he is one of my heroes.
CLOSE-UP ON MOOSE, LYING IN THE YARD.
My hero is my dog, Moose.
SHOTS OF MOOSE EATING, SLEEPING, WAGGING HIS TAIL, JUMPING IN THE LAKE, PLAYING WITH COCO
Moose is my hero because he has the purest heart of anyone I know.
SHOT OF MOOSE ON THE COUCH, RESTING HIS HEAD ON MEGAN’S LAP
He is full of love.
SHOT OF MOOSE WAITING PATIENTLY FOR FOOD AT DINNER TABLE
And hope.
SHOT OF MOOSE GREETING DAD AFTER COMING HOME FROM WORK
He is always there when you need him.
SHOT OF MOOSE NUDGING MOM’S ARM WHEN SHE’S TRYING TO TALK ON THE PHONE
And even when you don’t.
SHOT OF MOOSE GETTING UP FROM HIS BED
Moose has been a member of our family for as long as I can remember.
SHOT OF MOOSE RUNNING OUTSIDE
I used to think he would live forever.
SHOTS OF MOOSE WALKING, RUNNING, AND LYING DOWN
But then I realized he wouldn’t. I realized dogs live a lot shorter lives than people do. At first that made me really sad. But then it made me more determined than ever to make the most of our time left together.
SELFIE SHOTS OF MOOSE AND ME, PLAYING, HUGGING, EATING, JUST GENERALLY HAVING AN AWESOME TIME
I love you, Moose. And I think you’re a hero.
THE END
* * *
At the end of the movie, I turned the lights back on. Then I opened the door to the classroom, and my mom came in.
She had Moose with her.
The whole class went “AWWWWW.”
I took the leash from my mom and walked Moose to the front of the classroom.
“Sit,” I said.
Moose sat.
“This is Moose,” I announced to the class. “I thought you guys might want to meet him. Some of you know him already, but a lot of you don’t. Moose is a chocolate Lab, and he’s ten years old, which is getting pretty old for a Lab. But he can still do a lot of things a younger dog does.” I held up a treat, and he jumped up to eat it. “But he is also definitely acting older—he doesn’t run the way he used to, or go up the stairs as much. He doesn’t jump on my bed anymore either, do you, you lazy beast.” I gave Moose a rub. “I love Coco, too, my other dog, but Moose is older, so I’ve known him longer.” I paused for a second. “I just wanted to make sure he knew that I thought he was great before he…” I looked at Moose, who was looking back at me like I was the only person in the world. “Before it was too late.” I hugged Moose, who gave me a big smooch. Then he turned around and gave Ms. Albone a smooch, too! Luckily, she laughed.
“Thank you,” I said. “That is the end of my presentation.”
I thanked my mom, who hugged me. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispered.
I looked around the class. They were all quiet.
But it was the good kind of quiet.
I looked at Katie. She looked back at me.
“Charlie Joe,” Ms. Albone said. She looked stern.
I waited nervously.
“That was not the assignment. The assignment was to write a research paper.”
Uh-oh.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Albone.”
Her face softened. “But, I am impressed with your creativity and sensitivity.”
Phew.
Ms. Albone turned to the class. “Charlie Joe has made a strong statement on the gift of love and offered powerful testimony to the passage of time,” she said. “He has shown us how it’s the little things that make us great. And by us, I mean all living things, who are all equally precious.” She turned back to me and shook my hand. “Congratulations. Well done.”
“Thank you,” I said.
I looked up and saw Mrs. Sleep in the back of the room. She nodded at me, then left. It was an important nod. I was pretty sure it meant I could spend recess with my friends for the rest of the year.
The bell rang for the end of class. I hugged my mom and Moose goodbye, and Ms. Albone walked with them down to the office. As the other kids hurried out, m
ost of them slapped me on the back, saying things like “That was awesome,” “Great job,” “Wow, that was intense,” and other things like that.
It was a pretty cool feeling, I have to admit.
When everyone had gone, I went back to get my stuff.
Which was when I noticed Katie standing by my desk.
“Charlie Joe,” she said.
“Yeah?”
“That was amazing.”
I may have blushed. Okay, fine, I definitely did. “Thanks. I kind of … I knew that you would like it. I know how much you love Moose.”
Katie seemed a little nervous. “I … I think I owe you an apology.”
“No—” I began, but she cut me off.
“I do. I pretended not to care about the Hannah thing. I tried to just laugh it off. But I think the more I pretended, the more upset I became. And I started treating you badly. And I’m sorry.”
“I have way more to be sorry for,” I said. “Like … the kiss.”
“You don’t have to apologize for that,” Katie said. “Not to me, anyway.”
“Well, I’m really, really sorry I lied about writing that poem. That might have been the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.”
Katie nodded. “At least that was dumb in a sweet way.”
“Well, it’s the last dumb thing I’m going to do for a long time. Like you said, Katie, it’s time to grow up, and I’m gonna. I swear.”
Katie smiled—a real smile. “Well, it seems like you’ve already started. And that’s awesome.”
We just stood there, not saying anything. I think we were both so relieved there wasn’t this weird tension between us anymore that we wanted to enjoy it for a minute.
“And,” I said, “all that stuff I said, about how liking you would be like liking my sister, and how it would be gross … that’s why I did that poem thing, because I couldn’t figure out how to tell you the truth.”
Katie’s eyes shined like really bright stars. “Which is what?”
“Which is—”
Suddenly the classroom door burst open.
“WHAT are you kids still doing in here?!” It was Mr. Margolis, the assistant principal. I think his entire job was to get kids in trouble, and he was really good at it. “I was walking by and I heard voices. Children’s voices! Which didn’t make sense, because I KNEW that EVERY student in this school should be in their assigned classrooms, and there’s no class in this room during this period.” Mr. Margolis walked toward us, twirling a pen in his hand. “But sure enough, the voices were REAL! Here you are! I’m sure there’s a perfectly good reason for you to both be late for class, and I’d like to hear it.”
Katie and I looked at each other.
“Well?” Mr. Margolis demanded. “Would you mind explaining to me what you’re both doing in here?”
Katie smiled at me, picked up her backpack, and looked Mr. Margolis in the eye.
“Making up,” she said.
Pete Milano’s Guide to Romance
BE ANNOYING!
So you’ll probably read other people’s advice on how it’s important to be all nice and kind and the sweetest person ever to the person you like.
Don’t believe it.
Because I have a secret: Girls like it when you totally get on their nerves.
No, I’m serious! They do. They might say they don’t, they might tell you to get away from them or leave them alone, but secretly, they think it’s fun. Girls like arguing. And if you act kind of like an idiot sometimes, they have a lot to argue about.
Nice guys finish last. Annoying guys finish with a girlfriend.
Part Three
FRIENDSHIP IS THE BEST SHIP
* * *
A Communication Guide for Boys and Girls
62
Sometimes, the best way to stand out is to fit in.
* * *
All children want to be noticed: It is a very natural behavior. And the temptation to show off in front of one’s peers is also something most children are faced with. But part of the maturation process means resisting that temptation. It is not attractive to be the center of attention all the time. In fact, it often has the opposite effect: People start to resent those who demand to be noticed.
Think of it as a collection of people all trying to breathe the same air. If one person demands too much of that air, the other people will begin to suffer. And then they will turn against the one who is taking more than his fair share.
Remember: It is important to leave plenty of air for everyone else.
* * *
29
So that ended up being the closest I came to telling Katie I liked her for a while.
For the next month or so, nothing all that exciting happened. Katie and I were friends again—but not best friends, or boyfriend and girlfriend friends. Kind of weird, in-between friends.
And once people started figuring out that Katie and I maybe liked each other, things got even more awkward. Like sometimes at lunch, if Katie was sitting next to someone and I came up to the table with my tray, that person would get up, so I could sit next to Katie.
“You don’t have to get up,” I’d say.
“No, I want to,” they’d answer.
So I’d sit down next to Katie, and we’d look at each other and talk about something totally meaningless.
“English homework was really hard last night,” I’d say.
“You’re not kidding,” Katie’d say.
“That tuna sandwich you’re eating looks good.”
“It is.”
Being in-between friends with a girl is not easy, let me tell you.
At least one part of my life got a lot less awkward, though. It happened one day while I was standing in line for lunch.
Jake Katz was standing there, ignoring me as usual. Then, totally out of the blue, he said, “The French fries look particularly soggy today.”
After looking around, I realized he was talking to me. I was shocked. It was the first time he’d started a conversation with me in six weeks.
“Huh?” I said.
“The French fries look soggy,” he repeated.
It took me a minute to realize what was happening. He may have said, The French fries look soggy, but what he actually meant was, I was really, really mad that you kissed my girlfriend, but a lot of time has passed, and I’m not that mad anymore, and I’m ready to be friends again.
“Yeah,” I said. “They are soggy. I’m going to have to talk to management about that.”
And what I actually meant was, Like I told you before, I’m really sorry that happened, it was a terrible misunderstanding, and I really want to be friends with you again, too.
The corners of his mouth turned up, but he wasn’t ready to commit to a full smile just yet. “Okay, cool, yeah, talk to management. Let me know what they say.”
“I will,” I said. “I totally will.”
Ten seconds later, in front of the fish sticks, Jake said, “You can come over after school today if you want.”
“Okay, cool. Sounds fun.”
And just like that, we were friends again. Because that’s how it works with middle school boys. Why talk about something uncomfortable when you can talk about French fries instead?
The other thing that happened is I kept working on the whole maturing thing. Meaning, I decided to “play by the rules” (Katie’s words, not mine) and stop being my usual “obnoxious, annoying self.” (George’s words, not mine.) So I didn’t drive the teachers as crazy as I used to. I didn’t goof around in class as much as I used to. And I didn’t brag about not reading, the way I used to.
Ms. Albone was the first teacher to notice it. “Charlie Joe,” she said one day after class, “is everything all right?”
“Yes, Ms. Albone, why?”
“Well, I just realized that I haven’t reprimanded you in a while.”
“Right. Well, I, uh, have decided to try and be a little better behaved.”
“I see.” Ms. Albone lo
oked at me closely, like she didn’t quite believe it. “Well, good for you.”
“Have a nice day, Ms. Albone.”
Mrs. Sleep probably loved the new me. But I wasn’t sure I did. Because honestly? I was worried that the new me was a little boring.
There was hope, though. The weather was getting nicer. The leaves were starting to bloom on the trees. You know what that means, right?
SUMMER.
Did you hear me? I said …
SUMMER.
You’ve heard of it, right? That time of year when there’s absolutely no homework of any kind?
You can probably imagine how I felt about summer.
I WAS FOR IT.
Then one day, about a month before the last day of school, a bunch of us were sitting around at lunch talking about the end-of-year dance, which was a pretty big deal.
“Back where I come from,” Emory said, “we all went to the beach and had a barbecue with surfing and volleyball. It was awesome, dudes.”
“I’m totally moving to California when I grow up,” Pete said.
“Uh-oh,” said Jake. “Poor California.”
“Charlie Joe, who are you going to take to the dance?” Timmy asked, a little too cheerfully. “Going solo?”
“Nope,” I answered. “I’m taking Erica.”
Emory’s mouth dropped open. “You’re taking Timmy’s girlfriend?” The poor kid had a lot to learn about East Coast sarcasm.
“Very funny,” Timmy said to me.
“Oh, now I’m with you! Good one dude,” Emory said, chuckling.
Our conversation was interrupted by the crackling of the loudspeaker, meaning an announcement was about to happen.
“Hello, students, this is your principal, Mrs. Sleep.” As if we didn’t all recognize her weird, deep voice. “This is a reminder: All permission slips for the field trip to the high school are due tomorrow. This applies to all students, no exceptions. Have a wise day.” She always said that at the end of an announcement—Have a wise day. I wasn’t exactly sure what it meant. Personally, I’d rather have a chocolate day, but that’s just me.
Charlie Joe Jackson's Guide to Planet Girl Page 8
