Charlie Joe Jackson's Guide to Planet Girl (15 page)

“I'm sure this book was written by a very distinguished author,” Mr. Twipple said. “And I'm definitely no expert. But I will give you one small piece of advice.”

The bus stopped, and someone smacked my shoulder. “Hey, Charlie Joe!”

I turned around to see Pete and Timmy standing there, waiting. “Come on, time to go!” Pete said.

“Yeah, man, let's go check out the high school,” Timmy added.

I stayed in my seat. “Give me one second.”

They both stared at me, shocked that I was still sitting there, having a serious conversation with a teacher. And not just any teacher—
Mr. Twipple
. “Fine,” Pete said, “but hurry up.”

As they piled off the bus, I turned back to Mr. Twipple. I could tell he was happy that I'd chosen him over my friends, if only for a minute. It turns out that teachers like to feel cool, too—and I had a hunch Mr. Twipple didn't feel cool all that often.

“What's your small piece of advice?”

“It's this,” Mr. Twipple said. “Everyone has their own definition of normal. Your normal might not be someone else's normal. The important thing is to not be defined by what other people say you should be. If you do that, you're actually doing the opposite of being yourself. You're being who someone else wants you to be.”

I sat there for a second, more confused than ever.

“You're not the quiet, polite type,” he went on. “You're the master of the grand gesture. The bold move. So go for it! Do something grand and bold. Win the love of this girl!”

I grabbed my backpack and stood up. “Wait a second. So what you're saying is that I should go back to being the type of kid who drives teachers like you absolutely crazy?”

“God forgive me for saying this,” Mr. Twipple said, “but exactly.”

 

31

As we walked around the high
school, I realized two things:

1. My conversation with Mr. Twipple had put me in the best mood I'd been in for a while; and

2. High schools are pretty sweet.

First we went to the school gym, which had like nine basketball courts.

It was awesome.

Then we went to the auditorium, which looked like Radio City Music Hall compared to our middle school auditorium. They even let us stand on the stage.

It was awesome-er.

Then we went to watch some kids actually broadcast a live TV morning show from an actual TV studio!

It was totally beyond awesome.

By the time we got to the cafeteria, which actually had a soft-serve ice cream machine, kids were practically jumping up and down with excitement. High school didn't seem scary anymore. It seemed full of possibilities!

Then they had to go and ruin everything by taking us to the library.

“Holy smokes,” Jake Katz said, in awe.

“Holy smokes,” I said, in horror.

The high school library actually had two floors. Two floors! There were computer stations everywhere, which wasn't so bad, but there were also a lot of books. No, make that a TON of books. There were rows and rows and rows of books. There were way more books than any human being could ever read in ten lifetimes.

It was like the New York Public Library's little brother.

There was a biography section that was the size of a football field. A
biography
section! I'm sorry, but there is no way there are that many people in the world who deserve to have a book written about them.

A tall woman with glasses hanging around her neck came up to us with a big smile on her face. “Hello! I'm Ms. Cryer, and I'm the director of media services here at the high school.”

I couldn't help it. I laughed.

“Do you mind if I ask you what is so funny?” Ms. Cryer asked.

I hesitated. The older old me would have made some goofy joke, but the newer old me would have just shook my head and been a good boy. But after my talk on the bus with Mr. Twipple, I decided that the newer old me should go back to the older old me.

That's logical, right?

“Well, I just think your name is kind of funny,” I said.

Ms. Cryer cocked her head. “How so?”

“Well, it seems to make a lot of sense that someone who has to work in a huge library all day would have the word
cry
in her name.”

Some kids giggled, which felt good. I'd missed that sound.

“I see,” said Ms. Cryer. “So I gather you're not a fan of reading?”

“That's an understatement,” Jake volunteered.

“Let's just say it's not in my top ten,” I said.

Ms. Cryer walked over to a shelf, picked up a book, and walked over to me. “Here, hold this.”

I took the book.

“This young man is holding one of over five thousand books we have in our library,” Ms. Cryer announced to all the students. “And I am quite sure that before you have finished your time here, I can help each one of you find at least five books that you will read, enjoy, and learn from.” Then she looked directly at me. “And as for you, young man, I will personally guarantee it.”

I looked up at her. “You will?”

“Oh, yes,” she said, still smiling. “In fact, I'll make you a bet. Name your terms.” It seemed like she was having fun, and I began to think that when I got to high school, I might like her as much as I liked Mrs. Reedy. Why did I get along so great with librarians? It made absolutely no sense.

“Okay, fine,” I said. “I'll bet you I won't read five books from this library during high school. If you win, I will read five more books over the summer between high school and college.” I paused for a second. “And if I win, you have to move all these bookshelves out of the way so we can have a Ping-Pong tournament in here during the last week of school.”

Ms. Cryer laughed. “You've got yourself a deal.”

“Cool,” Timmy said. “I love Ping-Pong.”

 

32

We spent another hour
checking out the whole school, which was totally huge of course, but also kind of amazing. To get from one class to another, sometimes you even got to walk outside. It was like college!

By the time we headed back to the buses, everyone was talking about how they couldn't wait to go to high school.

“Dude,” said Emory, “I am totally stoked for this place.”

“Is ‘stoked' good?” Nareem asked.

Emory nodded enthusiastically. “Totally, dude.”

The whole courtyard was filled with happy, chattering people, but I couldn't help noticing that one person wasn't participating in the fun.

Katie Friedman.

She was standing off to the side, talking to Mrs. Massey, our art teacher, who was another chaperone on the trip. I watched Katie for a few seconds, trying to decide if I wanted to know why she wasn't having fun. At first I thought it might have involved me. But then I decided that would be giving myself too much credit.

So I went over.

“Hey, Mrs. Massey,” I said. “The art studios are pretty amazing here.”

Mrs. Massey gave me a hug. She was a hugger. “Charlie Joe, so lovely to see you! Yes, indeed, this school is a painter's paradise. Professional artists all over the world would love to work in studios like these.”

“I'll bet. Hey, how's Zoe?” Zoe Alvarez—my almost-girlfriend from the year before—happened to be her granddaughter.

“She's very well, Charlie Joe, very well indeed. So nice of you to ask.”

“That's good.” Well, enough small talk with Mrs. Massey. I turned to Katie. “Hey.”

She gave a halfhearted smile. “Hey.”

I casually pulled her away from Mrs. Massey to get a little privacy. “So, is everything okay? You don't seem all that into this place.”

Katie looked down and stared at something on the ground that wasn't there. “No, this place is amazing,” she said. “Totally incredible.”

“So how come you don't look as psyched as everyone else?”

She picked her head up and looked at me for a split second, then looked up at the sky. “Well…” she said.

I was getting a weird feeling in my stomach. “Well what?”

Finally she looked at me straight on. “Well, I think I might actually go to private school next year.”

My stomach did a weird somersault. “Private school?”

Katie nodded sadly. “Yup. My parents think it might be good for me. More challenges and all that.”

“That's crazy! Our school is awesome!” I felt myself getting all worked up. “And did you see this place? It's incredible! It's got everything you could possibly want! It's like a college! Come on!”

“Listen, Charlie Joe, you don't have to convince me.” Katie started walking to the bus, and I followed.

“So that's it, then? You're going off to private school, and we'll never see you again?”

“Don't be overdramatic. Of course we'll see each other. It's not as if I'm moving to another town, like Zoe did.”

We both glanced back at Mrs. Massey, who was happily chatting with one of the art teachers from the high school.

“It won't be the same,” I said. “It just won't.”

And we walked the rest of the way to the bus in silence.

 

Hannah Spivero's Guide to Romance

BRAINS ARE BEAUTIFUL.

Everyone is so concerned about looks all the time. I think that's really obnoxious. Looks are superficial. I like my boyfriend Jake not because he's cute, even though he totally, totally is—in a different kind of way—but because he's a really smart, interesting person. He knows a ton about a lot of things and teaches me stuff every day. And he says I teach him stuff, too. So, yeah, it's what's underneath that counts!

Although I am trying to get Jake to wear his contact lenses more. His eyes are like this really beautiful blue.

 

33

That day after school,
Timmy, Jake, and I all went over to Pete's house. The original plan was to hang out and play video games, but I had something I needed to discuss first.

“Katie Friedman is going to private school next year,” I announced.

They all looked up from their controllers.

“No way!” said Pete.

“Whoa,” said Timmy.

“Sorry, Charlie Joe,” said Jake.

Pete looked at Jake. “What do you mean, ‘sorry Charlie Joe'?”

Jake looked at me, waiting. He was right—it was my question to answer.

“Listen, you guys,” I said. “I suppose it's possible that I've been a little jealous that you guys all have girlfriends, and I don't. And I know it's also not exactly a shock that I like Katie.”

They all gasped sarcastically.

“But the problem is, I've been having trouble figuring out how to tell her I like her,” I went on. “I figured it was no big deal since there was no rush. But then today she told me she might go to private school.” I sighed like a lovesick puppy. “So if you guys have any ideas about how to get her to not go, I'd really appreciate it.”