Charlie Joe Jackson's Guide to Planet Girl Read Free Page B

It was entirely possible he’d pick me up and throw me like a football, all the way up to Canada.
    â€œUm, I don’t know about that,” I said. “But … uh … what’s the problem?”
    Phil was about to say something when Pete and Timmy came up behind us and tossed their empty potato chip bags on my tray, for no other reason than to be annoying, which is as good a reason as any in middle school.
    â€œHey, can you throw those out for us?” Pete said.
    â€œYeah, that’d be sweet, Charlie Joe,” Timmy added.
    Phil stood up. “We’re having a private conversation,” he said, in his low voice.
    I don’t think I’ve ever seen two middle school kids scurry away faster.
    Phil sat back down. “Where was I? Oh, yeah. So, Celia and me, we’re like really into each other, you know?”
    â€œYeah, I know.”
    â€œBut…” Phil stopped and scrunched up his face, as if what he was about to say caused him intense pain. “I think that as I get older and school gets harder and with football and everything, I think that maybe having a girlfriend might be too much of a distraction, you know? But I don’t know if I should say anything to Celia.”
    â€œHuh,” I said, which is probably not what a certified romanticologist would say.
    As Phil stared at me—even his eyes had muscles—I broke out in a slight sweat. “So?” he pleaded. “What do you think?”
    â€œI’m not sure.”
    â€œCome on, Charlie Joe! I’ve been worrying about this for like, forever! You gotta help me!”
    Oh, jeez.
    I closed my eyes, trying to think. In my mind, I went over the most recent pages of the book that I’d read, searching for something that would help. Do I say the same thing to Phil that I said to Emory? Do I try to come up with something new? Do I—
    Suddenly I had it.
    â€œWell, Phil,” I said. “If there’s one thing I know, it’s that girls like to be treated as equals.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œI mean, if this is a concern of yours, it might also be a concern of hers.”
    Phil frowned. “Huh,” he said. “So what you’re saying is, I should ask her if she’s worried that I’m worried that having a girlfriend might get too distracting?”
    â€œNo,” I said. “You should ask her if she’s worried that having a boyfriend will be too distracting for her .”
    Phil didn’t look too thrilled by that idea.
    â€œI doubt she is,” I said quickly. “But you never know. Just ask her. Then you can tell her that you’re a little nervous about it, and see what she says. You guys can figure it out for sure. Seriously, it’s no biggie. Once you talk about it you’ll be fine.”
    Phil nodded, and I leaned in for the big finish. “Remember,” I added thoughtfully, “it’s a conversation, not a monologue.”
    Phil stared at me for about ten seconds without blinking. “Holy moly, Emory was right,” he finally said. Then he slapped me on the back, which I was pretty sure would leave a mark. “You’re a genius, Charlie Joe, anyone ever tell you that?”
    â€œNot exactly, no.”
    â€œWell, you are. I gotta go find Celia.”
    He got up and left, which was my cue to leave, too. If Phil’s conversation with Celia didn’t go well, I sure as heck didn’t want to be there to find out.

 
    6
    It turned out I had nothing to worry about.
    Phil’s conversation with Celia went REALLY well.
    So did Emory’s conversation with Eliza.
    And the next thing I knew, I’d become the school’s go-to guy on every boy-girl problem that came up.
    It usually happened at lunch and recess; I’d be sitting there, minding my own business, when some kid would come up to me with that look in his eye: a combination of nervousness, embarrassment, and