The Downside of Being Charlie by Jenny Torres Sanchez Read Free Book Online

notice one small setback, though,” she continues, “no extracurricular activities, Charles, and that’s something
colleges are definitely looking for these days.” She looks at me over her glasses.
    â€œYeah,” I say and take a deep breath. It’s not like I hadn’t thought of that before.
    â€œWhy?” she asks.
    â€œJust . . .” I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know,” I tell her, which is entirely false. The truth is that fat doesn’t do extracurricular activities. Fat always gets in the way. Fat makes you stay home so people don’t notice you or say shit behind your extra wide back.
    She nods. “Well, your grades are fabulous, so maybe if you join some clubs this year, you’ll still have no problem getting into the college of your choice, which brings me to this. You want out of drama, I see?” she says, looking at the schedule change request form I filled out after school on the first day.
    â€œYep.”
    â€œWell, you’re not the first one, but I’ll tell you this, I think you should seriously consider keeping it. Staying in drama might offer a great extracurricular opportunity for you.”
    I shift in my seat uncomfortably. No, just get me out of there . I don’t want to be talked into staying in the class, but she keeps going on and on, and the more she talks, the more I sink into the quicksand of compliance. I can’t say no now. She’s been talking nonstop for the past fifteen minutes.
    â€œ. . . not even on stage, but you can do some work backstage and . . .”
    First Tanya Bate . . . now this.
    â€œ. . . love to see a student challenge himself, try new
things, and it might even be a great topic for a college essay. So, what do you say, Charles?” I say screw you, lady.
    â€œSure,” comes out instead.
    â€œGreat! I’m proud of you. You’ll see, it’ll probably end up being your favorite class.” Doubt it.
    Ten minutes later, I’m still reeling as I stumble back to class with no schedule change. How do they do that? She looked nice, and yet, the old bat had somehow duped me into staying in drama. I decide to skip the rest of class and go sit on a bench, mentally composing my bio to post on FML.
    As I sit feeling sorry for myself, thinking what a crappy birthday this is turning out to be, Charlotte VanderKleaton appears out of nowhere and walks past me. I sit still and stop breathing, hoping she won’t notice the loser sitting here with absolutely nothing to do. I stare at the cracks on the ground until she is a safe distance away. I see her going in the direction of the drama room.
    Wait. The drama room? And . . . she’s got her backpack, so she’s obviously not just running some stupid errand. What’s that in her hand? . . . a crisp, new schedule? It’s not possible, and yet, there she goes headed toward the drama room.
    I see her hand reach for the heavy classroom door and a minute later she disappears into the room. Charlotte VanderKleaton is now in drama. Sixth period drama with me. Sixth period drama that I tried to get out of. Sixth period drama that the wonderful Ms. Sheldon had the good sense to talk me into keeping. I
look up and smile. I jump off the bench and head to what is now officially my favorite class. Happy freakin’ birthday to me!
    When I get to the door, I take a deep breath. Actually, I take several deep breaths since I start to feel overwhelmed, but I put my hand on the handle and pull. And the door opens and reveals the heavenly sight of Charlotte VanderKleaton, sitting in the seat right next to mine. My ears fill with the arena sound of a thousand fans cheering, and I kind of feel like I might fall over.
    I don’t know how I make it to my desk, but I do, so I sit down and concentrate on breathing for the remaining five minutes of class. I try not to look her way, but I can’t help it. She looks over at me at the same