Charlie Joe Jackson's Guide to Not Growing Up (4 page)

“Jake,” she said, mysteriously.

“W-what about him?” Okay fine, I stammered a bit. Old habits die hard.

“You need to tell him something for me. Something he's not going to like.”

Wait a second. Was she saying what I think she was saying?

My head went a little fuzzy. You have to understand—entire school years went by while I daydreamed about hearing those words. But like I said—that was then, and this is now.

“What?” I asked. “What do you need me to tell him?”

“Shhhh!” she whispered, way too loudly to be considered an actual whisper. “I don't want to do anything about it until after graduation!”

“Sorry, but this doesn't make any sense.”

Hannah twirled a straw around in her mouth. “We're about to go to high school, and we're going to meet a whole bunch of new kids, and it just seems like the right time, like it makes sense, you know?”

“No!” I objected, probably a little too loudly. “You're like, the best couple in the school, not counting Phil and Celia.” I was referring to Phil Manning and Celia Barbarossa, who'd been going out for so long people were starting to call them Philarossa. I swigged my soda, then refilled. “Plus, I just don't think you should break up with him today of all days. That would be terrible.”

Hannah burst out laughing.

“Break up with him? What??”

I felt my face start to turn red. “Why, what were you talking about?”

“I just was going to say Jake needs to think about maybe getting contact lenses, that's all!” Hannah said, between gasps of laughter. “And start dressing better.”

“Oh,” I said.

She wiped her eyes. “That's like, totally hilarious that you thought I wanted to break up with him! Oh my God! No, it's just that it's high school, you know, and he needs to look good, and grow up a little bit, that's all I'm saying.”

I suddenly got a little annoyed. “Why is everyone all obsessed about the future, and what's next, and growing up all of a sudden? I'm starting to get sick of it. What's wrong with right now?” I polished off my second glass of root beer. “Man, this is turning into a lousy birthday.”

Hannah's eyes went wide. “Oh my gosh! Your birthday! I totally forgot!” She turned around and shouted, “Everybody! It's Charlie Joe's birthday!!”

Well, that did it. Everyone came running over and started pounding me on the back, shouting “Way to go!” and “Congratulations, Charlie Joe! You're the man!” But I didn't exactly feel like the man, right then. I felt a little confused, to tell you the truth.

Jake came over and put his arm around Hannah. She glanced quickly at me, then smiled at Jake—and I noticed Jake was starting to sprout a little mustache.

Yup, middle school was definitely over.

Pete Milano came over and put me in a headlock. “Happy birthday, Charlie Joe! Here's my present!” He threw in a couple of noogies for good measure.

“Uh, Pete?” I gasped. “That kind of hurts.”

“Birthdays are supposed to hurt,” he said, but then he let me go.

I tried to catch my breath. “What's up?”

“Oh you know, dude, the usual,” Pete said. “This party's a little lame.”

“What do you mean?” I said.

“I mean, this party's a little lame,” Pete repeated. In the old days, I would have rolled my eyes at Pete, who used to be even more of a troublemaker than I was. But that was before he starred in a big Hollywood movie and became the coolest kid in school.

“Yeah, I guess you're right,” I said.

Pete adjusted his sunglasses. He wore them all the time, because he thought they made him look sophisticated. I thought they just made him look goofy, which I'm allowed to say, because they were a gift from my friends and me.

“Aren't we old enough yet so the adults don't have to be at all our parties, keeping an eye on us?” Pete asked. “I mean, what's the deal with that?” He shrugged. “Anyway, I gotta go find Mareli, before she finds me.” Mareli was Pete's girlfriend, and she liked to know where he was at all times.

“Okay, see you later.” I looked over at the parents, who were up on the porch mingling. They were all wearing nice shirts, and skirts, and colorful shorts. Half of them were staring at their phones. Didn't any of them want to jump in the pool? Didn't any of them want to splash around like an idiot? Didn't any of them want to … you know … act like a kid?

All of a sudden, I found myself taking my shirt and shoes off, then running full speed toward the pool.

“Cannonball!” I shouted, launching myself into the air.

I balled up and jumped as high as I could, for maximum impact.

SPLASH!

By the time I came up to the surface, three girls were screaming because I'd gotten them all wet, and three boys had jumped into the pool after me. One of them was Timmy McGibney, who always tried to do what I did, only bigger and louder.

“Let's do this!” he screamed, jumping around and splashing everyone in sight.

“Last one to the other side is a rotten egg!” I hollered.

“Go!” he yelled.

It was a close race—and when I looked up, the first thing I saw was Jake's mom, standing over us.

“Boys! Boys! I said no swimming! You all have a big day ahead of you! Please, everyone out now!”

“Sorry, Mrs. Katz,” said Eric Cunkler, one of the other boys who'd jumped in.

Timmy and I looked at each other, trying to decide what to do. For a minute I thought about doing about five more cannonballs, but then I saw my parents looking at me, and I realized that nothing good could come from it.

“Be right out, Mrs. Katz,” I said. “It's just that the water is so nice.”

Mrs. Katz was in the middle of flashing me her best fake smile when I heard an oddly familiar voice scream “COMING THROUGH!” Then, all of a sudden, a kid came flying past all the adults, past the catering people putting out lunch, and past the kids already sitting at the picnic tables. The kid was moving so fast I couldn't tell who it was, but he took a flying leap into the pool, flailing his arms like a spastic baboon. He hit the water with a
THWACK!
that sounded like the worst belly flop in the history of belly flops.
Ouch
, I thought. Then I thought,
Who is this crazy kid?
And then I thought,
I'm so happy there's another moron here, so I'm not the only one.

When the kid came to the surface, it all made sense.

Teddy Spivero.

No way!

“Hey, Wacko Jacko!” he gasped, water still coming out of his nose. “Long time no sneeze!”

Way.

“What's up, Teddy?” I said, trying to sound perfectly normal and friendly. See, here's the thing: Teddy Spivero was my archenemy ever since I first knew what the word
archenemy
meant. He was Hannah's twin brother, and I'd spent approximately half my life trying to figure out how a perfect girl and a horrible boy could have the same exact genetic makeup. (A phrase I learned in eighth-grade science.)

Teddy promptly swam down to the shallow end of the pool, where I was hanging out, and splashed about a gallon of water directly into my mouth.

“What did you do that for?!?” I sputtered.

“Because it was fun!” was his answer.

And you know something? I couldn't argue with his logic. From his perspective, it probably
was
fun. Which was something this barbecue could've used a lot more of, right about then.

Teddy was clearly thinking the same thing. “What kind of party is this?” he said. “It's like somebody died or something!”

“We're not supposed to be swimming,” I told him. “Mrs. Katz said.”

“That's major lame,” Teddy said.

“We're going to get in trouble if we don't get out,” I said, hating myself for being so … well, lame.

“Oh, no!” he yelled, splashing me again.
The heck with it
, I thought, and splashed him back. Which led to a fairly significant water war. It got so splashy that Timmy swam over.

“Mrs. Katz is going to kill you guys!”

“Kill us why?” asked Teddy. “Because we're actually playing with water in a swimming pool?”

That might have been the moment I decided I kind of liked Teddy Spivero.

“Kids, out!” hollered Mrs. Katz. “I mean it! It's time for lunch anyway!”

“But it's just so darn nice in here!” Teddy hollered back. “Can we swim while we eat?” I was starting to like him more and more.

“This is simply a modest way to kick off the day,” Mrs. Katz told us, as if we cared. “After lunch, everyone needs to go home and get ready for the afternoon festivities.”

“I don't know about you,” Teddy whispered to me, “but I can get ready in about eight seconds flat.” I decided the best thing to do at that moment was to ignore him.

The good news was, Mrs. Katz takes her food very,
very
seriously. After Timmy and I hopped out and dried ourselves off, we checked out the picnic tables, which were filled with hot dogs, cheeseburgers, every kind of chip ever invented, cookies, brownies, cupcakes, and approximately fourteen different kinds of soda.

“Mamma Mia, this looks delicious,” Timmy said.

For some reason, though, no one was eating yet. I couldn't figure out why, until Mrs. Katz started clinking a glass. “Please, everyone, gather around for a quick toast!” she called.

Oh jeez
.

The adults came down from the screen porch, and the kids came up from the lawn. Katie came over to me and we joined a big circle. Jake's mom stood right in the middle of everyone, which was exactly the way she wanted it.

“I'd like to congratulate all of the young men and women who are here today,” she began.

Oh, so all of a sudden we're men and women?

“Tonight you become graduates of Eastport Middle School and get ready for the next step at high school,” she continued. “I'm just so proud of all of you, including my young Jake, who has had such a marvelous experience at school, with all his friends, having fun learning, and soaking in so much knowledge. It's really been wonderful to watch.”

I glanced over at Jake. He looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole.

“I thought it might be nice to have a moment of reflection on this day of celebration,” Mrs. Katz continued. “We've all been through so much, and you kids are just so terrific. You've worked so hard and kept your heads on straight. So here's to all of you!”

Everyone said some variation of “Cheers!” or “Yay!”

“That wasn't so bad,” I whispered to Katie.

“It's not over,” she whispered back.

“How do you know?”

“Trust me.”

Sure enough, Mrs. Katz kept her glass of whatever it was in the air. “And now,” she said, “I'd like for us to go around and ask each child what you're looking forward to most about high school. Perhaps it's a subject you'd like to take, or a teacher you've heard is very good, or a sport you're going to play, or a club you plan on joining. Because today is as much about looking forward to the future as it is celebrating the past.” She looked around the lawn. “Who wants to go first?”

Shockingly enough, no one wanted to go first. As kids shuffled their feet and tried to avoid eye contact with Jake's mom, I glanced at my dad. He saw me, then laughed and shrugged, as if to say,
This is your problem, pal, not mine
. He was right.

As the uncomfortable silence got longer, Mrs. Katz's eyes started to take on a slightly desperate shine. “Jake, why don't you start us off?”

Poor Jake looked as if he knew that was coming. “Uh, okay, sure … I guess if I had to say what I was looking forward to most, it would be maybe the debate team, which I heard was really fun.”

Debate
team
? Huh—I had no idea debate was a sport. But okay, we can go with that if you want.

Phil Manning jumped in next. “I'm planning to play football and rugby, and maybe join the wrestling team,” he said. “And hopefully, you know, study a lot and stuff.” His girlfriend Celia Barbarossa was next to him—they're never more than seven inches apart—and she piped in, “I hope to join the model U.N.”

“I'd like to take a bunch of AP courses,” said some other kid that I barely knew.

“Me, too,” murmured a bunch of other kids in agreement.

Teddy looked confused, then elbowed me in the ribs. “What's an AP course?”

I wasn't sure, either. “Uh—” I said, before Katie chimed in. “It's short for Advanced Placement,” she said. “Kids who want to get into good colleges take them. They're really hard.”

“Who cares?” said Teddy Spivero, at which point he officially went from my enemy to my friend. He elbowed me again. “Let's go inside and check out the house.”