The Mix-Up Read online

  About the Book

  THE CHAMPION CHARLIES

  CHARLES was the best player in the boys’ football team.

  CHARLOTTE was the best player in the girls’ side.

  But this season they’re BOTH playing in the SAME mixed team …

  Is there room for TWO CHAMPION CHARLIES on ONE side?

  Developed in partnership with Football Federation Australia

  The CHAMPION CHARLIES features Caltex Socceroos and Westfield Matildas players, fun football facts and more

  COVER

  ABOUT THE BOOK

  TITLE PAGE

  DEDICATION

  CHAPTER ONE

  SMACK, BANG, CRASH!

  CHAPTER TWO

  TOUGH LOVE WITH HIGHPANTS!

  CHAPTER THREE

  SNAILED IT!

  CHAPTER FOUR

  TWO CAPTAINS, MANY MEATBALLS

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE CHICKEN OR THE EGG

  CHAPTER SIX

  ANTS AND BUTTS

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  BACKFLIPS

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  GAME ON!

  CHAPTER NINE

  LENNY AND THE JETS

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE DANCING DADS

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  HEAD IN THE GAME

  THE CHAMPION CHARLIES 2: BOOT IT

  IMPRINT

  READ MORE AT PENGUIN BOOKS AUSTRALIA

  For Mum and Dad.

  Thanks for braving those frosty Hobart mornings to take me to all my Eastern Shore Saints Junior Soccer Club games!

  The Champion Charlies.

  That was the ACTUAL front-page headline on the local newspaper. In big CAPITAL letters. Right beside a ‘free burger’ coupon.

  The page had been plastered onto the school clubroom’s noticeboard since last year. The noticeboard was on the outside wall that faced the football pitch. By now the whole school had seen the article. Charles ‘CJ’ Jackson and Charlotte Alessi were posed in their Jets FC football gear for the photo. The shot was taken after their Grand Finals. CJ’s team had just won their match in a nailbiting finish. Whilst Charlotte’s team had thumped their opposition to claim the title in the girls’ league. They were all smiles. They were CHAMPIONS! They were being peed on by a dog.

  ‘Garlic!’ laughed Benji Nguyen, as he exited the clubrooms and patted the kelpie on his way past. ‘Your aim is worse than your breath! Get outta here, boy!’

  Garlic jumped from the bench and ran off to find his owner, the school gardener, Baldock.

  Benji had found what he was looking for in the clubrooms. A megaphone. Holding onto his signature Socceroos cap, Benji sprinted towards the playground beside the clubrooms where CJ was grinning maniacally on top of the monkey bars. CJ and Benji were best friends, both TOP OF THEIR FIELD. CJ was the Jets’ leading goalscorer and Benji was the Jets’ leading mascot. And also the only mascot. Not just for the Jets, but pretty much for the whole Under 11 boys’ league.

  Below CJ, Charlotte stood beneath the monkey bars with her arms firmly crossed. She ALWAYS wore her hair in a neat no-nonsense ponytail, but right now CJ thought her hair was pulled back tighter than ever.

  ‘This is so NOT funny, CJ,’ said Charlotte. ‘If you end up in hospital, you won’t be able to go to the big Matildas match with us on Thursday night!’

  ‘Hospital! Yeah right,’ said CJ with a snort.

  Lexi Li had the school iPad out, videoing the whole scene, selfie-style. Lexi was the closest thing Charlotte, who could be pretty uptight, had to a bestie. As Lexi hit record, she flicked her fringe so that it cascaded perfectly over her big dark eyes. She was destined to become Insta-famous one day. Somehow she even made the Jindaberg Primary School uniform look good. Lexi moved from the football pitch to the playground, to the school chicken coop, unable to stand still. ‘CJ, let me find some good lighting. If this goes viral I need to be looking my best, okay?’

  CJ was balancing on top of the monkey bars. His scruffy blond hair battered by the wind. He’d whacked the seat of the swing under his arm and carried it up there till the chains stretched out horizontally from the swing’s frame. There was a wild look in his eyes. Even more so than usual. Like he’d just eaten a whole pack of Tim Tams.

  The kids’ football was stuck in the blooming cherry blossom tree. And the school lunch break had only just begun.

  CRISIS!

  ‘Stop wasting my time, CJ. I’ve allocated exactly twenty minutes to football, twenty minutes to writing a book report and twenty minutes to knitting my little sister a green and gold beanie for Thursday,’ said Charlotte, checking her watch as she so often did. ‘Clearly, the sensible, and safer, thing to do is just ask a teacher for help. Not do whatever you’re planning. You dingbat!’

  ‘I take that as a compliment!’ giggled CJ. Then he lost his balance. He flung his free arm about to steady himself. As he regained his footing he only laughed louder. ‘Relax! I’ve got this!’

  ‘Come one! Come all!’ announced Benji, as he finally worked out how to switch on the megaphone. His voice echoed down the slope from the football pitch to the rest of the school below. ‘Watch CJ attempt another dangerous dare … will he fly like an eagle, or will he go the way of the dodo. Either way, you don’t want to miss it!’

  Charlotte shook her head at Benji as more and more kids ran over.

  ‘Sorry, Charlotte, this is just too good to ignore,’ laughed Benji. They may have all been in the same class but they didn’t all share the same sense of humour. ‘Gather round, catch CJ in action so you can say you saw him when he still had his teeth!’

  ‘Get down, CJ!’ snapped Charlotte. ‘That old statue is in your path anyway. We can just throw a tennis ball at the football. That might knock it free.’

  ‘Chill, Charlotte. I’ve got this sussed,’ said CJ, rubbing his hands together. ‘I’m going to leap onto this swing, fly through the air so high that I miss the statue of that old dude –’

  Charlotte glared at CJ. ‘Captain Jonas Jindaberg, who our home suburb is actually named after. Show some respect!’

  ‘Yep, right over old J-Berg’s head, then I’ll bicycle kick in midair – like Wayne Rooney against Man City in 2011 – and boot that football right outta the tree. Game on! Simple!’

  ‘You’ll never clear the statue,’ huffed Charlotte.

  ‘Will so.’

  ‘Will not,’ said Charlotte, turning to Lexi. ‘I kind of want you to keep filming this just to teach him a lesson, okay?’

  Lexi looked away from the iPad to give Charlotte a thumbs up, then returned to pulling her best duck face.

  Benji put his mascot moves to good use and cartwheeled beneath the monkey bars. ‘Give me a C! Give me a J! What does it spell?’

  ‘Nothing they’re just initials,’ said Charlotte.

  ‘Oh yeah,’ said Benji.

  ‘Are they? I thought his name was French or something,’ admitted Lexi, still smiling for the camera. Lexi and her father won a Daddy/ Daughter beauty contest when she was just three, before the family left New Zealand. Ever since, she could bust out a cheesy grin in mere nanoseconds.

  CJ glanced at the crumbly concrete statue. The dude was some sort of olden days ship captain. He was looking skyward, barking orders. CJ HATED following orders.

  ‘Here I go!’ cried CJ, as he put one foot on the seat of the swing. Then he pushed himself off. He started swinging. Fast. His hair whooshed straight. ‘SEE YA, SUCKERS!’

  The swing flew low. CJ shifted his weight, ready to somersault. About to try to bicycle kick the ball from the tree. He swung higher, and higher and then …

  SMACK! BANG! CRASH!

  CJ hit the statue. He squished right into it. Then hung onto it like it was his long lost teddy bear.

  ‘Ouch!�
� cried Benji. ‘I’ll always remember that nose as it was, before it was shattered into a thousand pieces.’

  The swing kept swinging without CJ. It smacked into the overhanging tree, and then pulled on the branch as it swung back down. The branch split off the tree and started hurtling towards the statue. CJ squeezed his eyes shut.

  KERAAACK!

  The broken end got lodged straight down the throat of the statue.

  ‘That’s got to clear the sinuses, folks!’ cried Benji.

  It looked like the statue was SPEWING OUT blossom. A huge explosion of colour was being hurled right out of old J-Berg’s open gob.

  ‘You know what? You were right, Charlotte,’ grinned CJ, as he peeled his face free. ‘I was never going to clear this statue.’

  Charlotte shook her head.

  ‘What on earth is going on up here?’ cried Principal Swift, as she arrived on the pitch, glaring at CJ through her big round glasses that made her look like an owl.

  The scene spoke for itself: kids gathered around CJ who was hugging a SPEWING STATUE. It was not a good look.

  Charlotte spoke up. ‘We were trying to retrieve the football, but –’

  ‘But CJ took things too far?’ asked Principal Swift, her big eyes bore into CJ’s soul.

  ‘It was a classic!’ laughed Benji.

  ‘Sorry. I was just super keen to play football,’ said CJ. ‘The season starts this weekend.’

  ‘No it does not,’ said Principal Swift, shaking her head at the state of the statue.

  ‘What?’ asked Charlotte.

  ‘You heard. And this goes for both teams. This year, there’ll be no football!’ said Principal Swift, as she turned sharply and stormed back down to her office.

  Despite all the pain CJ was in, it was Principal Swift’s words that hurt the most.

  NO FOOTBALL!

  ‘I might’ve gone too far this time,’ whispered CJ to Benji, as they sat together in the back row of 5H. Along with the rest of the class, they were creating papier-mâché planets while their teacher, Mr Hyants, lectured about the solar system. The kids called Hyants ‘HIGHPANTS’ behind his back. Their bald know-it-all teacher hitched his pants up so high his belt could’ve doubled as a tie.

  ‘I almost made it over the statue though, right?’ said CJ.

  ‘Almost. If it wasn’t for your feet,’ said Benji. ‘Or your legs, your stomach, your arms or your nose.’

  CJ rubbed his nose. It was still tender. And now it had GLUE all over it.

  ‘Can’t believe Swifty banned both football teams just because I did something stupid. I mean, I do stupid things all the time.’

  Benji nodded. ‘Hourly.’

  ‘This news will spread super-fast too. Just hope people won’t be miffed at me.’

  PFFFT!

  One of their classmates threw an eraser at CJ’s head.

  PFFFT! PFFFT!

  Then came a pencil sharpener and a pink highlighter. CJ headed away the items with the skill of Tim Cahill.

  ‘You’re not angry at me, right?’ asked CJ, as he nudged Benji’s arm. ‘I mean, you’re just the mascot, what do you care?’

  ‘Guess I’m not. And can I have my pink highlighter back?’ said Benji. ‘Look, just so you know, I take my mascot duties really seriously. I practise dance moves in the stockroom with Dad for hours.’

  Benji’s dad ran the local newsagency, but he was also President of the Jindaberg Amateur Drama Club. Performing – proudly – ran in the family. Although Benji’s dad probably didn’t realise that these days the Nguyen dramatic flair also extended to PRANKING.

  CJ glanced around the room. A few of his classmates shook their heads and scowled in his direction. The Paulveriser – originally known as Paul the Pulveriser, but it was a bit of a mouthful – menacingly cracked his bulging knuckles. The Paulveriser was the Jets’ ginormous goalie and he wasn’t known for his understanding nature. Or his use of deodorant.

  A row in front, Charlotte was busy writing. At least she wasn’t wasting time playing the blame game. CJ seriously doubted that she’d ever wasted time in her life.

  ‘Okay, okay, if football really is banned, maybe we can come up with a whole new sport to play,’ said Benji, handing CJ a list. ‘Here’s my top five suggestions.’

  Benji was in charge of updating the top five bestselling books display at the newsagency. Lately, he’d taken the ‘top five’ idea and run with it.

  CJ glanced at Benji’s list. It was typically ridiculous. CJ kinda liked it.

  FIVE WHOLE NEW SPORTS THAT ARE ABSOLUTELY 100% NOT FOOTBALL AND SHOULD TOTALLY STILL BE ALLOWED.

  1) Foot-Crawl – just like regular football, but you must crawl like a baby. Perhaps players use dummies and wear nappies too?

  2) Foot-Call – teams compete to answer hundreds of randomly ringing mobile phones with their feet.

  3) Foot-Paul – everyone prods the school bully, the Paulveriser, with their toes – for 90 minutes plus extra time.

  4) Foot-Tall – teams compete by sticking their feet together to create the tallest tower of feet. (Might need to teach the players group gymnastics).

  5) Foot-Overhaul – teams give makeovers to teachers’ manky feet.

  NB Competitors will require sick bags to take on Highpants’ bunions.

  ‘Mr Jackson,’ said Highpants, his stone-cold voice cutting through all the kids’ chatter. ‘Do tell, which planet are you constructing there?’

  ‘Me?’ said CJ, scratching his head and getting newspaper strips in his hair.

  ‘Yes. We’d all really love to know,’ said Highpants, rocking on his feet as if he knew he’d caught CJ out.

  CJ’s mind raced. He only knew the names of three planets. One was a chocolate bar. One was a little rude. The other a cartoon dog.

  ‘Pluto!’

  Charlotte rolled her eyes. ‘Pluto’s not a planet, genius.’

  ‘Correct, Charlotte. Glad someone’s been paying attention,’ said Highpants, with his nose in the air. ‘Pluto used to be a planet, but – to put it bluntly – it got kicked out of the gang.’

  CJ slumped down in his chair. Kicked out of the gang. He suddenly became very aware that all the kids on the school football teams were glaring at him. Now he knew how Pluto felt. (The planet, not the dog). It seemed like everyone wanted him kicked out too. Even though he’d been playing alongside them since he booted the Jets’ very first goal in the under sixes. All in all, he was beginning to feel a bit queasy.

  ‘Maybe try making Earth, Mr Jackson,’ suggested Highpants. ‘Heavens knows we’d all like you to stay more grounded.’

  CJ grabbed Benji’s planet. Benji had almost finished plastering his balloon. CJ grinned. He drew hexagons on the planet and held it up.

  ‘INSTANT FOOTBALL!’ said CJ, grinning from ear to ear.

  Benji laughed.

  ‘Do you dare me to boot this over Highpants and through the classroom door?’ whispered CJ.

  ‘Probably not a good idea,’ said Benji, but he nodded. ‘Do it.’

  CJ plonked the papier-mâché ball on the ground. He sized up the doorway. This kick would need to curve through the air, just like a long shot from Melbourne City’s Bruno Fornaroli.

  But then …

  ‘Charlotte!’ said Highpants. ‘Well … I … never! Are you passing a note?’

  ‘Um.’

  The whole class stopped what they were doing and turned towards Charlotte. CJ included. Charlotte in trouble? SUPER weird.

  ‘This is not like you at all, Charlotte. Or maybe it is. Maybe you’re just as bad as the rest of them.’

  ‘Is he talking about us?’ asked Lexi, her smile fading.

  Charlotte looked down at the scrunched up piece of paper in her hand.

  ‘Please read out the message that was just so important that you felt you needed to pass it round.’

  ‘I’d really rather not –’

  ‘Big loud voice.’

  Charlotte sighed. ‘Dear fellow Jindaberg students. It is total
ly unfair that the school has cancelled our football teams. The teachers are …’

  ‘Are what?’ asked Highpants.

  ‘The teachers are completely out of line.’ Charlotte’s voice wavered, but she didn’t back down.

  Highpants’ top lip got sweaty.

  ‘We must fight this ridiculous decision,’ said Charlotte. ‘Please sign this petition to reinstate the football teams immediately.’

  ‘I see,’ said Highpants, glaring around the room. ‘You all feel the same do you?’

  Most kids nodded.

  ‘Well, allow me to let you in on a secret, Year Five. Life’s tough. Growing up is about making sacrifices. Paul! Stop eating the glue!’

  The Paulversiser dropped his brush.

  ‘Where was I? Oh yes, LIFE’S TOUGH. I, myself, had to give up a promising pop music career to become a teacher. Simply to pay the bills.’

  Snooty old Highpants? A pop star? thought CJ.

  ‘You’d barely recognise me with the big hairdo and leather pants.’

  They would’ve still been SUPER high leather pants.

  Charlotte wasn’t letting herself get distracted by the awful image. She slammed her fist on the desk. ‘It’s just not fair that we all lose our football teams because of donkey-brain CJ!’

  ‘I take that as a compliment,’ said CJ.

  Highpants narrowed his eyes. ‘Oh, I see. You children have got yourselves all mixed up, as usual. Did Principal Swift leave without explaining why the teams have been disbanded?’

  ‘Oh, we totally know why,’ said Lexi.

  Charlotte rolled her eyes. ‘Yeah, he’s in the back row.’

  ‘With newspaper stuck to his chin,’ added Lexi. ‘So stylish.’

  The class turned to CJ. He was swinging his leg to kick the papier-mâché ball.

  THWACKK! THUMP!

  ‘OW!’ exclaimed CJ, as he fell to the floor with his foot stuck inside the papier-mâché football.