Charlie Joe Jackson's Guide to Planet Girl (2 page)

Anyway, it had a few laughs before it got all annoyingly lesson-y and moral-y at the end. Why do movies do that all the time?

Afterward, we all went down to Jookie's for a milkshake and snacks.

We sat in two booths: the couples in one and the noncouples in the other.

Which meant that Jake, Hannah, Phil, Celia, Timmy, Erica, Pete, Mareli, Emory, and Eliza were all at one table (apparently Emory and Eliza had officially decided to become a couple at some point during the first twenty minutes of the movie).

And Katie, Nareem, and I were at the other table.

“It's great to see that you guys can be friends and everything after breaking up,” I said. “It's really cool.”

Nareem stared at his soda. “It's actually quite difficult, if you want to know the truth.”

“Oh,” I said.

That ended the conversation for a while. I sat there, eating my cheeseburger and trying to balance a spoon on the end of my nose. It took me a few tries, but I did it.

“Look,” I said, showing off my accomplishment.

“Yippee,” Katie said, without the slightest enthusiasm.

“Well done,” said Nareem.

We took a few more bites of our food.

“Hey, Rituhbukkee Reunion Weekend is coming up,” Katie said, trying to think of something that would cheer us all up. Camp Rituhbukkee—pronounced
Read-a-bookie
, by the way—was the school-like summer camp the three of us all went to last year. I totally hated it, for about four days. Then I kind of tolerated it, for about three more days. Then for about a week, I thought it was decent. By the time I left, I completely didn't want to leave.

The reunion was happening in New York City in a couple of weeks, and it was going to be awesome.

“Hey, yeah!” I said, glad to have something fun to look forward to.

Katie smiled. “Do you think Jared Bumpers will be there?” Nareem and I laughed. Jared was the kid who got kicked out of camp on the last day because he was a cheater.

“I doubt it,” I said.

“It would certainly be an ironic turn of events,” Nareem added, showing off his unfair vocabulary, as usual.

I thought about camp for a minute. One of the reasons it was so fun is that everyone else who went there was … let me see, how can I put this without sounding insulting … supernerdy. I was the total cool kid. In fact, Camp Rituhbukkee was where I first gave someone girl advice. He was this tall dorky kid named George Feedleman, who ended up becoming one of my closest friends. Yeah. They all thought I was such a stud. A total ladies' man.

Boy, were they wrong.

“You know something?” I said. “This stinks.”

Nareem stopped midbite, which isn't easy when you're eating fried cheese sticks. Once you get going on those things, it's almost impossible to slow down.

“What stinks?” he asked.

I let out a big sigh. “Well, maybe
stinks
is too strong a word, but it's weird. All of a sudden I'm like the only one I know without a girlfriend. I feel like such a loser.”

Katie and Nareem looked at each other, and I suddenly realized that since they didn't have boyfriends or girlfriends, either, I'd just kind of called them losers, too.

“Sorry, you guys,” I said. “I didn't mean you. At least … well … I guess what I meant was, I've
never
had a girlfriend.”

And there it was. I said it—the sad truth.
I've never had a girlfriend.
Technically, I'd almost had a girlfriend once. Her name was Zoe Alvarez, and we definitely liked each other, but then she moved away, and a few embarrassing misunderstandings later, we'd decided to just be friends. And Eliza Collins, the generally acknowledged prettiest girl in the grade, had always liked me, but for some crazy reason, I didn't like her back. Anyway, the next thing I knew, it was getting late in my middle school career, and I'd never been able to say the four sweetest words in the English language.

Yeah, we're going out.

“Well, I'm sure your luck will change soon,” Nareem said, in his typical nicest-person-on-the-planet way. “You're funny and smart, and any girl would be lucky to go out with you.”

“Stop being so sweet, Nareem,” Katie said. “It's possible Charlie Joe will go through his entire life without knowing the love of a decent woman.”

“Ha-ha,” I said.

“Ha-ha yourself,” Katie said.

Then my chocolate milkshake came. One thing I learned a long time ago: If you're ever feeling really sorry for yourself, order a chocolate milkshake.

I took a long sip, and suddenly things didn't seem so bad.

“Maybe you need to do a little research,” Katie suggested.

“What do you mean by that?”

Nareem answered before Katie could. “She means if you want to figure out the mercurial ways of the fairer sex, you may wish to seek counsel from an expert in the field.”

Huh?

“Plain English, Nareem,” I begged. “Just this once.”

Katie laughed. “What we both mean,” she said, “is read a book.”

I nearly spit milkshake through my nose. “Ha!” But then I looked over at the couples' table, where Pete and Timmy had their arms around their girlfriends. They'd never looked happier in their lives.
Timmy! Pete! Girlfriends!

They saw me and waved. Timmy whispered something to Pete, and they both snickered. I was sure it was about my miserable, girlfriendless life.

I turned back to Katie and Nareem and sighed.

“How long does this book have to be?”

 

3

“Charlie Joe Jackson,
as I live and breathe!” said Mrs. Reedy, the librarian. “Be still my heart!”

I shrugged my shoulders. “What's the big deal? You act like you've never seen a student before.”

“I've seen plenty of students,” she said. “But
this
student! My oh my oh my!”

I eye-rolled. “Oh, stop being all dramatic.”

The funny thing is, even though Mrs. Reedy and I were almost never in the same room together—mainly because her room happened to be the library, and my room happened to be any room
besides
the library—we got along really well. She and Ms. Ferrell, my guidance counselor, were two of my favorite adults at school.

“In any event,” Mrs. Reedy said, “to what do I owe the honor of your special visit?”

I looked around to make sure no one else was listening. The coast was clear. “Well, to be honest,” I whispered, “I'm looking for a book.”

“A book!” Mrs. Reedy exclaimed in exaggerated shock. Then she saw the look on my face—which was probably half nervousness, half embarrassment—and decided to stop being silly. “What about?” she asked.

“It's hard to say,” I admitted. “I guess … well … do you have any books about how to get girls to like you and want to go out with you?”

Mrs. Reedy looked skeptical. “Are you serious? I've always considered you the man with the silver tongue.”

I wasn't sure what that meant, but I was pretty sure it was a compliment.

“Thanks, I guess. But … the thing is, I've never had a girlfriend, and I'm thinking maybe I'm doing something wrong or something.”

“You're not ‘doing something wrong or something,'” Mrs. Reedy said, her warm eyes crinkling into a smile. “You're in middle school. These things take time.”

“I don't
have
time,” I said. “All my friends have girlfriends all of a sudden, and I'm feeling left out.”

“Aha,” Mrs. Reedy said quietly. “Do you have a lucky lady in mind?”

“Nope, no one in particular,” I said, wanting to end this part of the conversation as quickly as possible.

“I see.”

“Also,” I added, “the book has to say all the important stuff on the inside flap, the back cover, and the first and last chapters, since those are the only parts I'll be reading.”

“Ah, that's the Charlie Joe I know and love,” Mrs. Reedy said. Then she clapped her hands together. “Wait a second! I have an idea…” She started searching through the stacks. “There is a book … I know it's around here somewhere…” Finally she lit up in a bright smile. “Ah! Here it is!” Mrs. Reedy picked up a skinny book (just the way I like 'em) and handed it to me. The back cover was a picture of a boy and girl sitting at a picnic table and laughing. They were dressed like they were from a different planet.

“How old is this book?” I asked Mrs. Reedy.

“Older than you,” she said. “Possibly even older than me. But good advice never goes out of style.”

I flipped the book over and read the title.

A Communication Guide for Boys and Girls
.

I was immediately insulted.

“Wait a second. Are you saying I can't communicate with girls?”

Mrs. Reedy laughed. “Of course I'm not saying that, Charlie Joe,” she said. “But it sounds like perhaps you're having a little trouble being yourself around girls. Or at least, you're
worried
that you're not being yourself. That's usually the tricky part. Too much worrying, and not enough relaxing.”

I thought about what she said. Maybe she was right. I had a history of trying to be the funniest, wackiest kid all the time. Maybe I tried a little too hard. Maybe Erica liked Timmy because he was just a typical kid. And Pete didn't
try
to be obnoxious all the time—he just
was
obnoxious all the time. I guess Mareli liked that.

I sighed.

“Okay, fine. I guess I'll check out a few pages.”

Mrs. Reedy took the book, stamped a due date on it, and handed it back. I stared at it like it was a plate of fried slugs. Then I shoved it way in the bottom of my backpack, where no one could ever find it.

Not even me.

 

A Communication Guide for Boys and Girls

13

It is more impressive to whisper wisdom than it is to shout nonsense.

*   *   *

Many young people today feel like they must raise their voices to be heard. That is the opposite of the truth. Children of good manners will respond in a more positive fashion to those who speak in a measured tone, who feel no need to shout, because they're confident in the value of what they're saying.

Remember that the importance of what you're saying is not reflected in the volume of your voice.

 

4

I read a few pages of the book.

Then I read a few more.

Then a few more.

Before I knew it, I'd read practically
ten
pages.

Which, um, is a lot for me.

Hey, don't laugh. It's not like it was the first time I'd ever read a book or anything. I read a book at camp about a guy named Lech Walesa, who led a revolution and became president of Poland. He was cool and had an amazing mustache.

And I read
The Giving Tree
when I was about six. I loved that book. It was really, really short. And good! But mostly short.