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The first day of seventh grade was the first time Janine really felt like a freak.
It wasn't the first time she'd felt different from her classmates. She felt that every day. It was in the way her teachers talked to her, and the way they talked to the other students; it was in the way her classmates talked to each other, and the way they talked to her. Her teachers had told her parents, more than once, that they should let her skip a grade or two, but her parents were firm that she needed to socialize with kids her own age.
Janine wasn't really sure why she needed to socialize with kids her own age, but her parents thought it was important, so she tried. And even if she wasn't going to parties every week or going shopping with friends on the weekend, she thought her classmates liked her well enough, at least as well as she liked them.
But on the first day of seventh grade, leaving her biology class, she saw Charlie Thomas in the hallway, talking with some other eighth-grade boys, and to be polite she waved hello at him.
She was shocked when instead of waving back, he blushed bright red and looked away. His friends turned to look at her, and then started to laugh, and for the first time in her life Janine Kishi felt like a freak.
It bothered her for the rest of the day. She couldn't figure out what it was that Charlie and his friends found so hilarious about her. Was it the way she dressed? The way she walked? Were they bothered by a seventh grader leaving an advanced eighth grade class? Was it simply that a seventh grader had the nerve to initiate contact with an eighth grader? Had she unknowingly breached some etiquette?
It got more uncomfortable when he met her at her locker after her last class and offered to walk with her to the elementary school, to pick up Claudia and Kristy and Mary Anne and then walk home. Sam was spending the afternoon with friends, he explained, still not quite making eye contact.
It was a perfectly reasonable suggestion. She was responsible for Claudia, as Charlie was responsible for Sam and Kristy, and the three girls were always happiest when they could walk home together.
She said, "Why were you and your friends laughing at me?"
She hadn't meant to ask that outright.
Charlie blushed all over again and mumbled, "I wasn't ... we weren't ... they weren't laughing at you."
"It looked like they were laughing at me." Her mother would call her behavior rude, but at the moment, she didn't care very much. Charlie and his friends had hurt her feelings.
Charlie looked completely mortified. Finally he said, "They were making fun of me, okay?"
That didn't make any sense. Unless – "They were making fun of you for knowing a seventh grader?"
"No, it's just that I ... that you ... I ... never mind. It wasn't about you. I'll tell them they were rude, okay?"
She wanted to protest. She wanted to know what they'd thought was so funny. But judging from the look on Charlie's face, he wasn't going to give her any further answers. She said, "All right." Then she added, "Thank you."
He just blushed more. "Let's, um, let's go get the kids."
//
Janine had dreaded high school.
Eighth grade had been such a miserable experience that it retroactively colored her memories of her entire middle school experience. It wasn't the work, which had been as easy as ever; no, her problem with middle school was purely on the social end.
It seemed like all at once all of her peers were more interested in dates and parties than anything else, and she still didn't get the appeal. And suddenly it was the only thing that mattered about her, that she didn't socialize the way they did.
She had no reason to believe high school would be any different. So she was surprised when, by the end of her first week of ninth grade, it obviously was.
In many ways she was far more ignored in high school than she had been in middle school, which suited her fine. Her classmates were more interested in their own drama than in why she didn't have any, and no one sought her out to make her feel badly.
She enjoyed her schoolwork. She'd been allowed to enroll in eleventh- and twelfth-grade classes, and found the curriculum fascinating, the teachers engaging, and her classmates as invested in learning as she was.
She began to look forward to school, once again.
On the last day of the second week of the school year, she left her last class with Rebecca, who sat in the desk behind her. They were deep in discussion about the syllabus and upcoming group projects.
Charlie Thomas was waiting at her locker.
Rebecca looked at him as though she'd never seen a teenage boy before.
Charlie didn't seem to notice. "Hey, Janine," he said brightly. "I was thinking we could walk home together. Kristy and Claudia are both spending the night at Mary Anne's, aren't they?"
"I believe so." The trio had been more inseparable than ever as of late. Janine couldn't help being thankful for it; the more time Claudia spent with her friends, the less time she spent at home, a reminder of how effortlessly artistic and popular and fun her sister could never be. "I would be happy to walk home with you."
He relaxed a little; until he did, she hadn't noticed he was tense. "Excellent. Cool," he said. Then he looked at Rebecca, for what seemed to be the first time. "Hi," he said. "I'm Charlie Thomas."
"Rebecca," she said. "Uh, Rebecca Christie. Um, Janine, I'll see you in class tomorrow, all right?"
"Fine," Janine said, and watched in mild surprise as Rebecca hurried down the hall, stealing several furtive glances back at Charlie. That was odd.
Charlie looked uncomfortable and said, "So, um. How's high school so far?"
"It's fine." She didn't want to gush about her classes too much. She knew Charlie wasn't a big fan of school. It occurred to her that might be the reason he was talking to her now; perhaps he needed help with some of his schoolwork. She said, "And for you?"
"Oh," he said. "Fine. I guess. I can carry your bag, if you want."
"No, thank you. I'm all right." This whole conversation felt odd. She had never been much of a believer in intuition, but she couldn't escape the feeling that his reason for wanting to walk with her was because he had something he wanted to talk about. He didn't seem inclined to bring it up unprompted, though, so she decided to try being direct. "Is there something going on, Charlie?"
He bit his lip and looked embarrassed, or simply awkward, perhaps. "Yeah, actually, I, um, I was wondering – "
"Hey, Charlie!" somebody yelled from down the hall, and they both turned, almost as one, to see. It was one of his friends, a boy Janine couldn't remember the name of, if she'd ever known it. "You're coming to my party tomorrow, right?"
"Yeah, I'll be there!" Charlie shouted back. "Eight o'clock, right?"
"That's it! Can't wait!"
Janine felt her cheeks grow hot, and hated herself for it. She wouldn't want to go to a party anyway; it simply embarrassed her to have it discussed in front of her, as if it didn't matter that she wasn't invited. She swallowed, composed herself, and waited for Charlie's friend to move on; once he had, she said, "So what were you wondering?", and was proud that her voice didn't tremble even a little.
He swallowed, too, and hitched his backpack higher on his shoulder. His voice trembled only a little when he said, "Oh ... it's nothing, I guess. Never mind. Are you ready to go?"
//
By the beginning of eleventh grade, Janine felt she had a handle on high school. She had her own little circle of classmates who enjoyed schoolwork as much as she did, and who didn't think it was strange that she was still technically a junior despite taking most of her classes either with the seniors or at the community college. And she had plenty of time to pursue her own academic interests outside of school.
The only real hitch in her carefully planned schedule was the Baby-Sitters Club.
It had been simpler, the previous year. Aside from the addition of Stacey McGill, the gatherings in Claudia's room hadn't been much different from all the times she'd invited her closest friends over before. A little more regular, but that only made it easier to plan around.
This year, the organization had expanded, and Janine was never quite sure how many people she would find in her sister's room on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evening, or when they might decide they needed an emergency meeting or to hold some sort of event with the neighborhood children in the Kishis' yard or garage.
And they were loud. Janine tried not to resent Claudia's ease with her friends – she knew Claudia had self-esteem issues of her own – but it was very distracting. It didn't help that occasionally Charlie Thomas would come visit her to kill the time between dropping his sister off and picking her up; though she appreciated that he evidently thought talking to her was less tedious than sitting in his car waiting, it was nevertheless a distraction from her work.
So she wasn't surprised when, one Monday just before five thirty, Charlie appeared in the doorway of her bedroom.
She was surprised when instead of asking after her work, or telling her about his afterschool activities, he said, "Hey, I have something to show you. Come on."
"What is it?"
"It's a surprise. Come on!"
So Janine saved her work, turned off her computer, and followed him downstairs and out of the house.
"So?" He gestured proudly. "What do you think? Beautiful, isn't she?"
It took a long moment before Janine could actually register what he was showing her. Then she said, at an uncharacteristic loss for words, "It's. Uh."
"Yeah?"
She took a closer look at the car parked in the Kishis' driveway, searching for something nice to say about it. At last she had to say, "I believe the technical term is 'it's a lemon'."
His expression fell. It was almost comedic.
"Please tell me you didn't pay money for this thing," she said.
"It was all I could afford," he admitted. "But c'mon! It's not that bad. It just needs a little work, and it'll be the best car at SHS!"
"I admire your optimism." It was the politest thing she could think of to say. It really was pretty terrible – she wasn't even sure it qualified to be called a car at all – but he was so clearly proud of it.
"Can I take you for a ride?" he said, pulling keys out of his pocket. "We've got half an hour 'til Her Highness Queen Kristy needs to be chauffered home. We could go to Renwick's. I'll buy you an ice cream soda."
Janine thought about the paper she needed to finish writing for her physics class. She thought about the chattering, giggling girls in Claudia's room. She thought about the rusty death trap that was Charlie Thomas's new car. She thought about how nice it would be to have an ice cream soda at Renwick's with a friend.
She said, "All right. As long as we're back in time. I don't want you to have to endure a lecture from your little sister."
Charlie nodded gravely. "You joke, but she can be legitimately terrifying when somebody interferes with her schedule."
The drive to Renwick's wasn't as harrowing as Janine had feared it would be. Charlie was a safe, cautious driver and he had already learned most of the car's little tics.
At the restaurant, Janine instinctively headed towards one of the back tables, but Charlie pulled her to a booth near the front and waved down a waitress to order their sodas.
"Aren't you worried your friends might see us and think we're on a date?" Janine asked. It was probably a poor decision to ask so bluntly. She did anyway.
Charlie flushed a little, became suddenly fascinated by his napkin, and said, "No, I – I don't think that'll be a problem, no."
She wondered if it hadn't occurred to him that they might think that.
"So how are your classes going?"
They talked about schoolwork and Janine gave Charlie some tips to help with his math class, until the waitress came back with their sodas. Then the conversation topics shifted to social events – an upcoming school dance; a party held the week prior; a pep rally.
Janine had not attended nor did she plan to attend any of the events they discussed, but she did her best to hold up her end of the conversation, and Charlie never made her feel inferior.
When they had each finished their ice cream sodas, it was time to leave, if they were going to get back to the house before the babysitters ended their meeting.
The drive home was pleasant. Janine asked Charlie to tell her more about his car, and he was more than happy to oblige; she didn't understand or care about most of the things he said, but it was entertaining to watch how excited he became.
When they reached the Kishis, Charlie parked in the driveway and Janine reached for her door, telling him that she would let Kristy know he was waiting.
"Wait, Janine – "
She paused. "Yes?"
He hesitated.
The front door opened and Kristy jumped down the steps, heading towards them.
"Never mind," Charlie said. "Thanks for coming with me. I had fun."
"I enjoyed myself as well."
He smiled. "Talk to you later?"
She nodded and opened the door. "I look forward to it."
//
It was later that same year, after Claudia's experience of being dropped behind a year and then pushed up again, that Janine began to seriously consider the idea that there was something strange about her friendship with Charlie Thomas.
To be specific, it was after the rather disastrous party Claudia threw in an attempt to get her eighth-, seventh-, and sixth- grade friends to bond with each other.
Janine admitted her own culpability in the disaster. She'd tried too hard to behave as just one more of her sister's friends instead of acting as an authority figure and stopping the party when it became obvious it was getting out of control.
She just wasn't sure what to do about it.
The Monday after the party, Charlie came to her room to talk to her during the Baby-sitters Club meeting. She wasn't working on anything very much, so she was pleased to see him – and, she had to admit if only to herself, she hoped that rebuilding her friendship with Charlie might help in rebuilding the other friendships she'd let lapse during her romance.
"So I heard you had a party this weekend," he said, too lightly. "You should have invited me."
"You would not have been unwelcome," she said. "You were bringing Kristy and Abby, anyway; you could have just dropped in."
"It would've felt weird. Dropping in on my little sister's friend's party. But I heard things got a little wild."
"I'm sure you've been to wilder parties." Janine didn't go to many parties, but she heard people at school talking about them, and alcohol and sex were frequently a major feature; at least Claudia's party hadn't gotten out of control to that degree.
He didn't deny it, but he didn't confirm it either. "I'm just surprised," he said instead. "I wouldn't have thought you'd let a bunch of kids run wild through your house."
Was he going to berate her as well? "It was a momentary lapse in judgement," she said.
"Hey, I'm not complaining. It's nice to know the great Janine Kishi can screw up, too. You're as human as the rest of us."
That hurt worse than any criticism of her abilities as an authority figure.
He must have seen that on her face, because he winced. "That ... that didn't come out right."
"What do you want, Charlie?"
"I guess I ... I guess I'm just wondering what happened. It seems weird, for you."
She shrugged and looked back at her computer. It was easier than coping with the hurt puppy look on his face. "Jerry and I ended our relationship recently."
"Yeah," he said. "I heard that."
That surprised her; it hadn't occurred to her that anyone outside of Jerry's social circle and her own would have noted their relationship at all, much less the breakup. She took a moment to decide how best to respond. In the end, she simply told him the truth: "I've had some difficulty adjusting to being single again. I drifted away from most of my friends while I was seeing Jerry, and I'm not sure how to reconnect, or how to start building new friendships. I suppose I wanted to use Claudia and her friends as a shortcut, or training wheels."
"Thirteen year olds make terrible training wheels."
She wasn't sure if he was joking or not, but she laughed anyway, and when she let herself look over at him he was smiling.
"You can always come talk to me," he said. "If you really need those training wheels."
"Thank you. I appreciate the offer."
"You know," Charlie said, tentative now, "Jerry was ... a real dumbass. For not realizing how awesome you are, and how he should treat you."
"It was a mutual breakup," Janine said. It was almost automatic. Everyone kept acting as if Jerry had dumped her, but it had been mutual.
"Still. He should've realized. If I – "
From the next bedroom, someone shrieked and a chorus of teenage girls erupted into giggles.
"If you, what?" Janine prompted when it became obvious that Charlie wasn't going to continue his sentence.
"Nothing," he said quickly. "Never mind. Just, Jerry's a dumbass. And I'm around, if you need somebody."
"Thank you. I mean that."
"Anytime. I, uh – I'm gonna go, and let you finish ... whatever you were working on."
She didn't get much more work done that night. She was preoccupied trying to figure out what, precisely, that conversation had really meant.
//
The summer after Janine graduated high school was a strange time for her. She felt she was in a kind of limbo – officially done with high school now, but not quite started on her college career; and the fact that she'd spent the past few years walking a strange sort of balance between high school student and college student somehow didn't make the transition either.
She spent most of the summer trying to prepare herself for her first semester as a true undergraduate. She would be a full-time student for the first time, living away from home for the first time, living with a stranger in a city she had spent no significant time in before. She read all the literature MIT had sent her, exchanged several e-mails with her soon-to-be roommate, and studied the culture and history of Boston.
A month before she was going to leave, she saw Charlie Thomas for the first time since he had left for Boiceville State.
It was a strange meeting, as well; she left the house, intending to walk to the library, and saw Charlie across the street, idly walking around the Perkinses' home.
"Charlie?" she called.
He jumped a bit and then turned to her. He looked pleased to see her. "Janine!"
"What are you doing here?"
"Oh." He shoved his hands in his pockets and offered a sheepish grin. "Indulging some nostalgia, I guess."
"Ah." She supposed that made sense. He had lived in that house until only a couple years ago; it presumably still felt more like home than the Brewer mansion.
"Hey," he said, "I heard you're going to Boston. Congratulations."
"Thank you. MIT offered me quite a few scholarships, and their physics program is doing groundbreaking work."
"They're lucky to have you. You'll take 'em from groundbreaking to ... to ... um ... ground-destroying."
Janine smiled.
"I'm still surprised you didn't beat me to college," he added.
She nearly had. She'd started getting scholarship offers before she'd technically started high school. If her parents hadn't insisted that she stay with her own age group ... "How are you enjoying the college life?"
He brightened up visibly. "I love it. Boiceville's cool and all, but I applied to UCLA as a transfer student and they accepted me – I start next month, and it's gonna be great."
"Are you still hoping to study film production?"
"Yeah. I think it might be what I want to do with my life. I dunno, though, I'll probably take some electives in other fields just to try stuff out."
She envied him that, a little. She didn't know how it would feel to be so unconcerned about choosing a path for the future; physics had so clearly been her calling since she'd first begun studying it.
"Do you wanna go for a drive or something?" he asked. "We could go to Renwick's and get ice cream sodas. For old times' sake."
She'd planned to spend the day in the library, studying to be sure she was fully prepared for her classes. She said, "That sounds wonderful."
He still drove the Junk Bucket. When she commented on it, he shrugged and blushed and said, "Sam drives her when I'm at school. But she's still my car."
Janine hadn't been to Renwick's in almost a year, but it hadn't changed – it would probably never change. Charlie steered her towards a table and within moments they each had an ice cream soda, and Janine felt as if she were about thirteen years old.
They didn't talk about colleges or about themselves. They talked about neighborhood gossip – about Kristy and Claudia, about Charlie's other brothers and sisters, about former classmates and old enemies. It was quiet and understated and unstressful, and Janine enjoyed herself immensely.
When they finished, Charlie drove her back home and they parked in front of the house to continue talking for a while longer.
Eventually, Charlie said, "I'm really glad I ran into you. I mean, you're going off to Boston, and I'll be in LA – who knows when we'll see each other next?"
That didn't sound like an encouraging line of thought. Janine said, "We'll both be coming home for holidays and vacations, and Claudia and Kristy are still close – I'm sure we'll see each other quite frequently."
"Yeah. I guess. I hope so." He smiled at her. "But it's still nice to have this, right?"
Janine felt nervous and wasn't sure why. "Yes. It's very nice."
They sat silently for a moment longer.
Then Janine said, "Charlie? Is there something on your mind?"
"Me? No. Nothing. It's – never mind. I guess I'm just feeling ... sentimental." He cleared his throat and looked away. "We should hang out again. Before we both leave for school."
"That would be nice."
Janine didn't see Charlie again before she moved to Boston.
//
Janine loved MIT. Her professors were fascinating, the work was truly challenging, and she enjoyed her classmates; there were a wide variety of personalities from a wide variety of backgrounds, and for the first time in her life, she didn't feel like she was automatically the smartest person in the room. They were all bound together by their interest in the subject and their desire to do good work.
She even had an active social life. Her roommate, Catherine, liked to throw parties to let off steam after particularly difficult weeks, and though Janine opted to spend the first few studying in the library instead, she eventually let herself be persuaded to sit in on one; she was somewhat surprised to discover that although drinking and dancing were certainly a feature of the evening, they weren't the only activities available. She participated in a game of Civilization, engaged in discussion about an upcoming project with a few classmates, and was drawn into a debate about the relative merits of various Disney princess movies with a group she knew only tangentially.
After that, she still didn't go to every party Catherine threw. But she went more often than not.
Halfway through her second semester she began dating Peter, a sophomore majoring in engineering who was friends with Catherine's ex-boyfriend. They studied together, ate together, went out to movies and classical musical concerts. Their relationship lasted for not quite six weeks, and then they both agreed it was time to break up; the result of their combined schedules meant it was difficult to find time to spend together, and there simply didn't seem to be much of a spark.
Janine was surprised to discover that her relationship with Peter didn't seem to change much after their breakup. They still talked at parties and sat together when they were in the dining hall at the same time; she still enjoyed his company, and he seemed to enjoy hers. When he started dating another engineering major a few weeks later, she was happy for him. After the toxicity of the only other breakup she'd gone through until then, it was a breath of fresh air.
She dated a few other boys herself – mostly classmates, but she also let her friend Amy set her up with her brother's friend Ryan, who was studying with the Boston Ballet's second company, which made for an unusual but charming evening.
When the year ended, Janine had passed all her classes with room to spare; she had plans to live with Catherine again for their sophomore year; and she felt more confident and at ease in social contexts. She might never be the social butterfly her sister was, but she could handle herself in both a classroom and a party.
It was strange, going back to Stoneybrook. It felt like going back to an old life, one she wasn't sure she knew how to exist in anymore. She didn't feel like quite the same person, but her parents and Claudia acted like she was. It was disorienting.
But that didn't explain the relief she felt when she came home from a visit with Rosa Garcia and saw the Junk Bucket parked neatly in front of the Kishi house.
Charlie Thomas was in the driver's seat. He looked like he was taking a nap, but when Janine tapped tentatively on the window, he sat up and rolled down the window. "Janine!"
"Hello, Charlie." She couldn't help smiling. "What are you doing here?"
He rolled his eyes. "Dawn Schafer's in from Connecticut, which meant the baby-sitters had to have a reunion, which meant Kristy pressed me into service to bring her, Abby, and Shannon over. Apparently some things never change. ... I can't wait until she gets her license."
"Even when she does, she'll probably still ask you to chauffer her around."
Charlie laughed and didn't deny it. "So how's Boston treating you?"
"Wonderfully. How are you finding California?"
"Fantastic. It's my new favorite place. I might live there after I graduate. Or I might not. There's a lot of interesting film coming out of other places, these days. Hop in, let's go for a drive."
She went around and let herself in the passenger's side; the handle almost snapped off in her hand. "You really need to get a new car," she observed.
"I did," he said. "But it's in California."
"I suppose that makes sense."
They drove around aimlessly for a while, talking about school, and ended up at Brenner Field. Charlie parked and asked Janine if she'd like to go for a walk with him; she agreed.
"When Kristy asked me to drive her over, I was hoping to run into you," Charlie confessed suddenly, after they'd been walking quietly for a few minutes. "I wasn't sure if you came home for the summer, so I didn't want to just drop by and intrude on your parents."
"You have been dropping by my house unannounced since you were about five years old," Janine said. "What makes now any different?"
He laughed a little, and didn't quite look at her. "I dunno. It just is."
"I was hoping to run into you, too." She didn't realize it was true until she said it. She hadn't even consciously realized she was thinking about Charlie Thomas at all.
"See? You could've come over and dropped in on me."
"That would have been awkward," Janine said primly. Charlie, Sam, Kristy, and David Michael had all been frequent visitors to the Kishi household as children; Mimi was often called upon to babysit many of the children in the neighborhood. Janine had spent much less time at the Thomas household. And once the Baby-Sitters Club had begun, nearly all events involving both their families had been held at either the Kishi home or the Schafer-Spier barn.
Besides, the idea of going to the heavily-populated Thomas-Brewer mansion uninvited was a bit frightening.
"Oh, so you get out of it because it's awkward, but that's not a good enough excuse for me?"
"Precisely."
Charlie laughed and slung an arm around her shoulders. She let him. He said, "I guess we both got out of it in the end, anyway. Nobody had to deal with any awkwardness."
"I suppose so. Thanks to the Baby-Sitters Club."
"Thanks to the babysitters!" He laughed again.
"So was there any particular reason you were hoping to run into me?"
"Oh ... no reason." He withdrew his arm. "Just hoping to see an old friend while I'm here."
"An old friend? Is that what I am?"
He looked blank. Or nervous. She wasn't sure which. "What else would you be?"
"I always thought I was the neighbor girl you took pity on," she admitted. "Or a sort of extra little sister."
"Janine Kishi, I have thought of you in many different ways over our lives, but never as a sister." And then he blushed bright red, jammed his hands into his pockets, and started walking much faster.
Janine stopped walking and stared after him.
She thought about what he'd just said, and how he might have thought about her instead. She thought about ice cream sodas in Renwick's and his friends laughing when she waved to him in middle school. She thought about unfinished sentences and inexplicable blushes.
"Charlie?" she called.
He stopped and turned back to her. He was still blushing. "What?"
She thought about what she could possibly say, and she thought about what might happen if she were wrong about what he was thinking.
And then she stopped thinking about it, stepped up to him, and kissed him. She had to stand on tiptoe and hold on to his shirt to keep her balance at first, but then he bent down a bit and slid a hand around the back of her neck, and she didn't have to do anything but kiss Charlie Thomas on a hiking path in Brenner Field.
When they broke apart, he didn't say anything. He just looked at her with an expression of mild disbelief.
She said, "Never mind."
He continued to stare at her for a moment longer, and then he burst out laughing, and so did she.
This time, he kissed her.
It was even better.