Free Charlie Joe Jackson's Guide to Not Growing Up by Tommy Greenwald Page A

let’s go!” Marcus, who was tall, fast, and (obviously) the best player on the team, gathered up his two gloves, his six bats, his bat bag, and his catcher’s equipment and walked toward the car.
    But on his way out, he stopped, bent down, and hugged Moose and Coco.
    â€œThanks, you guys,” he said. “That was the most fun I’ve had on a baseball field in a long time.”

 
    11
    3:31 pm
    After Mr. Crabtree left, the umpire decided to postpone the rest of the game until the next day. We’d left a mess of food wrappers and plates on the field—that’s the problem with fun, it’s usually messy—so Willy, Megan, Katie, and I started cleaning up. Coco was doing her part by polishing off any last scraps of treats lying around, but Moose was lying down in the shade under a tree.
    â€œThat’s weird,” I said to Megan. “Moose is never not interested when eating is involved.”
    Megan glared at me. “You need to stop feeding him so much junk,” she snapped.
    â€œThat has nothing to do with it,” I snapped back.
    We fought about that a lot—she was always on me for giving the dogs human food. My philosophy was that humans live a lot longer than dogs, so how can it be bad?
    â€œWell, it’s pretty hot out,” Katie said, playing peacemaker. “That was a lot of activity for a senior citizen. He needs a break.”
    â€œMoose isn’t a senior citizen,” I said. If I didn’t want to think about myself getting older, I DEFINITELY didn’t want to think about Moose getting older.
    I was putting the last of the PowerBar wrappers into a garbage can when my phone buzzed.
    It was a text from Mom: Where are you?!? I’ve been calling! Awards ceremony in 30 minutes!! Oops. I checked—three missed calls.
    â€œWe gotta go.” I shook Willy’s hand, then went to say goodbye to his little brother Chad. “Nice game,” I said. “You’re a good pitcher. You throw hard.”
    â€œI like your dogs,” he replied. “Can they come to every game?”
    *   *   *
    On the car ride home, Katie and I stared out the window while Megan drove. Nobody said much. We were all tired, and I had a lot to think about. We’d just been to three places where I’d spent a ton of time during the last few years: The Scooper Bowl, Jookie’s, and the Little League field. I felt really old at all of them. I felt a little out of place at all of them. And yeah, it still felt good to pull the occasional goofy prank with my dogs. But how much longer could I get away with that?
    In other words, it was pretty much going to be all business from here on in.
    I looked down and saw the Jookie’s hat that Mr. Radonski had given me, lying on the car floor. Heck, I couldn’t even go to Jookie’s anymore! Oh sure—you might be thinking, why would you want to keep going to Jookie’s anyway? It’s way too young for you! Well, that may well be, but you’ve never tasted their chocolate chip cookies. I would stay young forever if I could keep eating those cookies.
    But no more Jookie’s. No more being a kid. Time to act like a high school student. Grow up! Mr. Crabtree had said. And even though he was a jerk, he seemed to be saying exactly what everyone was thinking.
    Even Mr. Radonski, the gym teacher who was more immature than me, was getting married!
    What was happening? Why was it happening?
    And most important: What could I do to stop it?

 
    12
    3:59 pm
    Ties and me have never gotten along.
    I don’t even get why ties exist. Who invented ties? What were they thinking? Did that person say to themselves, “Hey, I know! I’m going to invent an article of clothing that you tie incredibly tightly around your neck for absolutely no reason? And to make things worse maybe I’ll invent an incredibly hot, uncomfortable, wool jacket to go with it?”
    That person