Nareem couldn’t have been more wrong. Friday Night Campfire turned out to be just another lousy thing about camp.
Dear Timmy,
How’s it going? Are you having an awesome summer so far? That’s good. I’m so happy for you.
The first week of camp is almost over. Tomorrow’s the big basketball game with Teddy Spivero’s camp. Supposedly they’re amazing, and he’s their best player. I’m the captain of our team, and we’re horrible. It’s kind of like God’s playing a cruel joke on me.
But guess what? I have a plan. If it works, I’ll tell you all about it. If it doesn’t, pretend we never had this conversation.
Well, it’s lights out. Which means all the other kids in my cabin lie there in the dark and think about the books they’re reading, while I lie there and think about hanging out at the beach with you guys. Write back, if you can tear yourself away from the French fries.
Your bud,
CJJ
P.S. I haven’t heard from Zoe in a while. Can you tell her to write me? Thanks.
10
The next day, our whole camp was waiting at the flagpole when the bus from Camp Wockajocka pulled up.
Twenty kids piled out, each one bigger than the next. The only kid we had that was as tall as them was our nineteenth-century literature scholar, George Feedleman.
“This isn’t good,” mumbled George, who was standing next to me.
“Don’t worry, I got this,” I answered.
Teddy Spivero was the last one off the bus. He spotted me right away.
“Yo, Jerko Jackson!” he hollered, pulling out one of the old nicknames. “So you’re really here at Camp Be-A-Nerdie with all the dorkmeisters! Dude, you must be fitting right in!”
I felt my neck get hot with anger. It was okay for me to call my fellow campers names, but no one else could.
They may have been dorkmeisters, but they were my dorkmeisters.
“Good to see you, too, Teddy,” I said, playing it cool. Revenge would come later. On the basketball court.
“I’m George Feedleman,” said George, sticking out his hand. “I play center.”
Teddy looked at George and starting guffawing. “Guys, come meet their big man!” he yelped to his teammates.
Teddy’s buddies gathered around, yakking to each other and shaking George’s hand. George nodded happily, not used to being fawned over by jocks, until he realized that they were actually making fun of him. Then he started blinking nervously.
Dr. Mal saw what was going on and walked over.
“Gentlemen, it’s nice that we’re all getting to know each other, but the Wockajocka boys have had a long bus ride, and I’m sure they’d like to stretch their legs a bit before the big game.”
“Nah, we’re good,” Teddy offered, slapping Dr. Mal on the back like they were old buddies. “The ride was only a half an hour. Can we get something to eat, though? That’d be AWESOME.”
As soon as Teddy mentioned food, Dwayne and I looked at each other. He nodded. I nodded. The plan was in place.
“Teddy, good to see you,” said Katie, who was hanging out with Nareem, as usual. “How’s Hannah?”
“Probably making out with Jake as we speak,” Teddy answered, elbowing me in the ribs. “Still hurts, huh?”
“Not really,” I said. “It’s all good. I love it here. Tons of awesome people. And unlike your camp, we have girls here.”
“Do they all have hair on their legs?” Teddy asked. “Like the smarty-pants girls back home?”
I noticed Lauren Rubin and a bunch of other girls glance at their legs.
“You’re such a turd,” I told Teddy.
He responded by punching me on the arm and asking, “Okay seriously though, how’s the talent around here? Solid? Can smart girls be pretty?”
I was in the middle of ignoring him when a completely huge, blond-haired Wockajocka kid started the Camp Wockajocka chant, and the rest of them joined in. It went something like this:
Wocka!
Wockajocka!
Wocka!
Wockajocka!
Wocka!
Wockajocka!
After about a minute, I tapped Teddy on the shoulder.
“Aren’t there any more lyrics to this song?” I asked.
Teddy glared at me. “Buzz off,” he snapped, chanting away while Dr. Mal led them into the dining hall for a pre-game snack.
I looked around at my fellow campers, still standing around the flagpole. They’d been completely silent the whole time. All this “Camp Jockstrap” this and “Camp Jockstrap” that, but when the other team actually showed up, no one said a word.
“Guys!” I shouted. “What gives? Please don’t tell me you’re scared of those clowns! Come on! They’re not even smart enough to come up with a second verse to their fight song! We can take these turkeys!”
I looked at George and Jack, hoping at least they’d back me up, but they didn’t. And right then I realized something. At camp, with each other, these kids felt happy, free, and relaxed. But if someone from the outside world came in, they went back to being the quiet, awkward outsiders they were the other eleven months of the year.
I grabbed Jared Bumpers by the shoulder.
“Jared, remember your pep talk from the campfire? The guys could use something like that right about now.”
But Jared had lost his mojo. “Give it up, Jackson,” he said. “Did you see the size of those guys? This is going to be a slaughter. Just like every year.”
“No, it’s not,” I said.
“Stop acting like you know everything!” Jared yelled. “This is your first year at camp! You don’t even belong here, so stop pretending you do.”
I resisted the urge to tell him what a jerk he was being. “I’m the captain of the team,” I said calmly. “And I’d like you and the rest of the team to get warmed up.”
“Stuff it,” Jared mumbled, but he gathered the team and started heading toward the court. I looked for Dwayne and found him over by the dining hall, talking on the phone.
“Are we all set?”
Dwayne put his hand over the phone. “Yup, all good, I’m ordering right now.”
“Awesome,” I said. “Who’s driving Cathy?”
“I am,” said Ms. Domerca, walking up behind me. “I heard about your plan. I think it’s underhanded, evil, and dastardly.” Then she gave me a big hug, her bracelets and necklaces smacking me in the face.
“Which is why it’s completely wonderful,” she added.
11
The game started out as advertised.
The huge blond Wockajocka kid, whose name turned out to be Chad, won the tip-off. The ball went to some other big kid, who passed to some other big kid, who passed to Teddy, who went in for an easy lay-up.
And so on.
The first quarter ended 18–6. Our points came from one outside shot by me, one lay-up by George, which hit the top of the backboard and bounced in, and two foul shots from Jared Bumpers. After his shots went in, Jared pranced around the court acting like he’d just slayed a dragon, while the guy he was covering went down court and scored.
“Jared, get back on defense!” I screamed.
“Don’t rush me!” Jared screamed back.
Our two other starters were Sam, the kid from my cabin who could at least dribble a little bit, and a girl named Becky, who played travel basketball back home. Becky was pretty decent, but she was only four feet seven inches tall, so unless she could figure out a way to get a trampoline on the court, she wasn’t going to get a lot of shots off against the Jockstrap boys.
The good news, though, was that besides Teddy and Chad, the rest of their team wasn’t all that great. They were big, for sure, but it turned out they weren’t really basketball players. They were more like football players who didn’t realize that tackling wasn’t allowed in basketball. So two of their kids got two fouls in the first quarter, which was good news, because five fouls disqualified you from the game. Dr. Mal was the referee, an
d some of the Wockajocka guys complained that he was calling the game too closely, but Dr. Mal wasn’t about to let his campers get injured by the big jocks from down the road. I kind of liked him for that.
After the first quarter ended, we ran over to the sideline.
“Great start!” Dwayne said. (Sports expectations are different at nerd camp.) Then he took out a clipboard and started drawing Xs and Os that looked more like a tic-tac-toe game than a basketball game.
“Guys, we need to do some more pick-and-rolls,” he added.
Sam raised his hand. “What’s a pick-and-roll?”
Becky rolled her eyes.
“Never mind,” said Dwayne. “Your job is to keep drawing fouls on these guys. If we can make some of them foul out we can win this thing.”
The Wockajocka kids on the bench started a chant:
2-4-6-8
Nerdy kids can’t get a date!
But our fans answered with a chant of their own.
H-I-J-K
You boys will work for us some day!
We had about fifteen minutes to go until halftime. I looked at Dwayne.
“We’re all set,” he said. “They’re on their way back.”
The second quarter started out like the first—not so good. But Dr. Mal called a couple more fouls on their guys, and I made a three-pointer (seriously, no lie), which made the crowd go wild. Teddy didn’t like that, though, and made two lay-ups in a row. After the second one, he ran over to our fans and shouted, “How do you like them oranges?”
One of our writing teachers, Mr. Hodges, shook his head. “The expression is ‘How do you like them apples?’” he said.
“I know that!” Teddy claimed. “I was just testing you! You people love tests, right?” He high-fived his coach, some huge guy whose knees came up to my head.
Then, about a minute before the end of the half, I had a fast break. It looked like I had an open lay-up. But out of nowhere, Teddy came sprinting down the court and blocked my shot. The ball went halfway to Antarctica. I went sprawling.
“You’re in my house now!” Teddy screamed down at me. “My house!” I didn’t have the energy to tell him that technically, he was in my house. I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have cared anyway.
As Teddy sauntered back down the court, I struggled to my feet. Suddenly, I heard a noise that was loud and getting louder. I couldn’t quite tell what it was, but then I figured it out.
It was booing. Tons of it.
I looked over at the sidelines. Every Rituhbukkee kid was booing their lungs out at Teddy Spivero. The kids in my cabin. The counselors, too. Then they started cheering for me. “You can do it, Charlie Joe!” “Go get ’em, Jackson!” “Come on man, we’re pulling for you!”
Teddy screamed at them, “Shut up! Go back to the library!” But that just made the kids boo and scream even louder.
I think that was the first time I finally felt like a true Rituhbukkean.
The half ended 34–14. On the bright side, two of the Wockajocka kids had three fouls each, which meant that two more fouls and they’d be done. But they weren’t exactly shaking in their sneakers. They were ahead by twenty points against a bunch of nerds. No wonder they were laughing and high-fiving on the bench. What could possibly come between them and another Rituhbukkee humiliation?
Halftime, that’s what.
12
Remember I mentioned a while back that I knew what Teddy’s two obsessions were? I don’t think I ever got the chance to tell you what they were.
Pizza, and red-headed girls.
Ever since I’ve known him, which is as long as I’ve known (loved) his sister Hannah, Teddy’s favorite activities have been eating pizza and annoying me. He was able do both in our elementary school cafeteria. I would be sitting near his sister, trying to get up the nerve to talk to her, when Teddy would come over and yell, “Stop staring at my sister!” Then he’d steal my pizza and eat it in one bite. And then he’d yell “I love pizza so much!” right in my face and walk away, leaving me sitting there with no pizza, no pride, and no chance with Hannah.
Teddy discovered redheads a little after that, like around fourth grade. He started following this girl named Maureen Cochrane around, calling her “Strawberry Head.” He was pretending to make fun of her but everyone knew it was a major crush. Then another girl with red hair named Kelly Gilbride moved to town, and suddenly Teddy was following her around too, calling her “Raspberry Head.” It was definitely weird, but it wasn’t creepy or anything. In fact, whenever the two girls tried to talk to Teddy, his face would turn the color of their hair, and he’d run away. I remember Katie actually saying she thought it was sweet. To this day, that was the only time I’ve ever heard the words Teddy and sweet in the same sentence.
But anyway, that’s the story behind Teddy’s two obsessions.
Which helps explain what happened next.
13
We were sitting on our bench during halftime when I saw the car pull up.
Dr. Mal saw it, too. “What’s going on?” he asked no one in particular. “Cars aren’t supposed to drive so close to the court.”
But before anyone could answer him, Ms. Domerca hopped out of the driver’s seat with a big smile on her face.
“Halftime refreshments!” she announced, holding about ten boxes of piping-hot pizza.
Then the passenger’s side door opened and Cathy Ruddy got out, holding even more boxes.
Teddy took one glance at Cathy’s fire-engine-red hair, stood up from his bench, and started staring.
She walked right over to the Wockajocka guys. By this point they were all gawking at her with their mouths wide open. Teddy’s was open the widest.
“Can I interest you guys in some pizza?” Cathy said in a kind of flirty way, just like Dwayne had asked her to. “It’s delicious.”
Teddy and his teammates jumped off the bench and immediately mauled the pizza.
“Easy you guys, one at a time,” Cathy said, which just made them eat faster.
“What’s this about?” Dr. Mal asked Dwayne, in an annoyed voice. “No one said anything to me about a pizza party at halftime.”
“We thought it would be a nice thing to do for the boys,” said Dwayne. “The game’s not that close, and who doesn’t love a little pizza?”
“It might give them energy for the second half!” Ms. Domerca added.
Dr. Mal looked at them and scratched his head, like he knew something was up but didn’t know exactly what. “You should have cleared it with me first. Do you have enough for all the campers, at least?”
“Absolutely,” said Ms. Domerca. “Come and get it!”
As the kids swarmed around the pizza, I nodded at Cathy, which was her cue. She walked up to Teddy and put her arm on his shoulder.
“So, I hear you love pizza,” she said to him.
Teddy didn’t say anything. I think he was still a little scared of redheads.
Cathy tried again. “I hear it’s your favorite food.”
“Where’d you hear that?” Teddy was finally able to say.
“I know a lot about you,” Cathy said, and smiled.
“Really?” Teddy said, feeling a little more confident. He looked right at Cathy. “Like what else?”
It was Cathy’s turn to be shy. Or, at least, pretend to be. Finally she said, “Well, I heard you can eat a whole pizza in under two minutes. That is so cool.”
“Totally can,” Teddy said, his mouth already full. He immediately started stuffing pizza slices into his mouth.
Chad, Teddy’s huge teammate, saw what was going on and came running over. “Dude, are you serious? Not smart. We have a second half to play.”
“All good, bro,” mumbled Teddy, tiny pieces of pepperoni spraying out of his mouth. “I got this.”
Katie, Lauren, and Jack came over to me, staring at Teddy. “What is he doing?” wondered Lauren.
“It looks like he’s trying to stuff a whole pizza in his mouth,” I said.
&nb
sp; “Aha,” Katie said, without looking at me. She was still acting kind of mad at me from our little fight at the campfire.
I shrugged. “Aha what?”
“Aha I get it,” said Katie. “The pizza. The redhead. Very good.”
She knew me too well.
“What’s very good?” Lauren wanted to know.
“Don’t ever let Charlie Joe tell you he’s not smart,” Katie said.
“You don’t have to worry about that,” Jack said, rolling his eyes. “Charlie has never, ever, ever told us he’s not smart.”
“Which just proves me right,” Katie said.
Jack looked confused. “About what?”
“You won’t believe this,” I told him. “Katie thinks I secretly wish I was a book-loving nerd like the rest of you guys. She thinks the reason I talk about hating reading so much is because I actually love it.”
Jack thought for a second. “That actually makes sense,” he said. “We all have secrets. I secretly wish I could spend my entire life on the couch watching TV.”
“Yikes,” I said. “Don’t ever tell your dad that.”
“I won’t,” Jack answered quickly.
We turned our attention back to Teddy, who had just eaten an entire pizza in about ninety-eight seconds. Cathy was clapping.
“Wow, amazing job. That’s awesome,” she told him, giving him her cutest smile.
“Thanks,” Teddy mumbled through a jammed mouth. He was starting to sweat a lot. One of his teammates brought him some root beer. “Here, drink this,” the kid said, obviously having no clue that the carbonation was going to make things worse.
Much worse.
After Teddy gulped down the soda, he wobbled over to his bench, where Chad was spinning a basketball on his finger. This was about to get good, so I went to get a closer look.
“Man, you don’t look so hot,” Chad said to Teddy. “I told you eating that whole pizza was dumb.”
“Leave me alone,” gasped Teddy. “I need to sit down.”
Chad shook his head. “Come on man, we have a game to play. Are you ready to go, or what?”
Charlie Joe Jacksons Guide to Summer Vacation Page 4
