First chapter in my newly released middle grade chapter book.
Chapter 1: Almost Grown-Up (But Not Quite)
Max McAllister was officially too old for kid stuff. He was now—double digits. And once you hit double digits, life changed. You got to stay up later. You got to drink coffee. You got to do whatever you wanted because you were basically an adult.
At least, that was the plan.
Max sat at the kitchen table, watching his dad sip coffee like he was contemplating the mysteries of the universe. It looked so mature. So grown-up.
Max cleared his throat dramatically. “I’ve decided something.”
His dad glanced up from his mug. “Oh yeah?”
Max sat up straighter, folding his hands like a businessman closing a deal. “I’m officially grown-up.”
His dad raised an eyebrow. “Did someone send you a certificate in the mail?”
Before Max could answer, Mia, his twelve-year-old sister, sauntered in, already fully dressed and looking way too smug for a Saturday morning.
“This should be good,” she said, grabbing a banana from the counter.
Max ignored her. “I’m serious. I’m basically an adult now.”
Mia took a slow, exaggerated bite of her banana, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Oh yeah? What’s your first act as an adult?”
Max looked around, thinking fast. His eyes landed on Dad’s coffee mug.
Bet!
The ultimate grown-up beverage! Max grabbed the mug and took a big, confident sip.
And immediately regretted every life decision that had led him to this moment.
The coffee was disgusting. It tasted like burnt toast mixed with despair and broken dreams.
Max choked, barely managing to spit it back into the mug before it could burn a hole through his soul.
Mia howled with laughter. “That’s a fat L, no cap.”
His dad calmly took his coffee back, completely unfazed. “Want me to pour you a nice warm bottle of milk instead?”
Max scowled. “I’m good.”
Mia ruffled his hair like he was a toddler. “Better luck next time, little man.”
Then she strolled out of the kitchen, victory secured.
Max slumped in his chair. Mission Grown-Up? Not off to a great start.
A few minutes later, Max overheard his mom on the phone. She sounded busy. Perfect! Grown-ups loved when other people helped them out.
“Yeah, I’ll get the package later,” she was saying. “Just swamped right now.”
Max sprung into action. “I can do it! I’m responsible now.”
His mom gave him The Look.
The Look was what she used when trying to decide if Max was about to be helpful or create a disaster.
After a moment of hesitation, she sighed. “Alright, Max. But no detours.”
Max saluted. “On it.”
He charged out the door and smacked directly into Leo, his best friend, who was riding his scooter in circles on the sidewalk.
“Dude!” Leo skidded to a stop. “You gotta see this—Mason just posted a video of a dog skateboarding.”
Max’s brain short-circuited. He loved dogs. He loved skateboarding. Together? This was world-changing.
“Show me,” he said, completely forgetting about the package.
Leo held out his phone, and Max leaned in, mesmerized as a tiny bulldog absolutely shredded down a half-pipe.
“Bro,” Max whispered. “That’s the GOAT.”
“I know, right?”
They watched three more dog videos. Maybe four. Possibly five. Time? Irrelevant.
“Wow,” Max said, handing the phone back. “That was educational.”
Leo nodded solemnly. “Definitely!”
A loud sigh interrupted them.
“So, this is what being ‘grown-up’ looks like?”
Max whipped around.
Mia.
Standing there, arms crossed, looking like she had been waiting for this moment her entire life.
Max’s stomach sank. “I was just about to—”
Mia held up a hand. “Save it.”
She strode up to the neighbor’s porch, grabbed the package, and shoved it into Max’s hands.
“There. Mission accomplished.”
Max grumbled. “I would have done it.”
Mia smirked. “Right. After like twenty more dog videos.”
Leo shrugged. “To be fair, they were kinda fire.”
Mia just rolled her eyes. “Try not to drop it on your way inside, Mr. Responsible.”
Max stomped back home, package in hand, trying very hard not to let Mia see him sulk. As Max dropped the package onto the counter, his mom gave him an approving nod.
“Thanks, Max.”
Okay, so maybe it hadn’t gone perfectly—but in the end, the package got delivered. That was what mattered, right?
Max sat back down at the table, chin in his hands. Being grown-up was a lot harder than it looked. He’d figure it out eventually.
Fine. So far, his grown-up era wasn’t going great. But Max wasn’t giving up.
He saw Dad’s half-finished coffee on the counter and hatched a genius plan. He dumped in five spoonfuls of sugar (okay, maybe six) and stirred. If coffee tasted terrible because it was bitter, then obviously more sugar = better coffee.
Max took a sip.
Game. Changer.
It actually tasted good now. Like coffee-flavored candy. He chugged the rest of the cup in victory.
Max's eyes widened in surprise as he swallowed the sugary concoction. "I did it!" he thought triumphantly, a grin spreading across his face. The bitter taste was barely noticeable beneath the mountain of sugar he'd added.
Feeling emboldened by his success, Max gulped down the rest of the mug. "That wasn't so bad," he declared aloud, puffing out his chest. "I bet I could drink a whole pot!"
But as he set the empty mug down, a strange tingling sensation began to spread through his body. His heart started to race, and his fingers twitched with sudden energy.
"Whoa," Max muttered, blinking rapidly. "Is this what being grown-up feels like?"
Just then, Leo walked into the kitchen. "Hey Max, want to play some video games?"
Max's words tumbled out at lightning speed. "VideogamesNowayneedtomoveLeo! Raceyouaroundthehouse!" Without waiting for a response, he took off, zooming past his bewildered friend.
"Max?" Leo called after him, confusion etched on his face. "What's gotten into you?"
But Max was already on his second lap around the living room, arms pumping furiously. "Can'tstopwon'tstopI'msogrownupnow!" he shouted, his feet barely touching the ground.
Leo watched in amazement as Max ricocheted off the walls, bouncing from couch to chair to coffee table. "Dude, you're like a human pinball!" he exclaimed, half-laughing, half-worried.
Max skidded to a stop in front of Leo, words spilling out faster than ever. "Pinball? That's for babies! I'm doing jumping jacks now. Count me!" He immediately launched into a frenzied series of jumping jacks, arms and legs flailing wildly.
"One! Two! Three!" Leo started counting, struggling to keep up with Max's manic pace. "Uh, twenty-seven? Forty-two? Max, I can't even see your arms anymore!"
As he jumped, Max's thoughts raced. "This is what grown-ups must feel like all the time! No wonder they get so much done!" He pushed himself to go even faster, determined to set a new world record for jumping jacks.
Leo watched in awe and slight concern as his friend became a blur of motion. "Max, maybe you should slow down a bit?" he suggested tentatively.
"Slowdown? Noway! I'vejusthitmy second wind!" Max panted, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. "Watchthis! I'mgoingtodoonehundredjumpingjacksintensseconds!"
As Max continued his hyperactive display, Leo couldn't help but wonder what exactly his friend had done to end up in this state. One thing was for sure – this was going to be one interesting afternoon.
Mrs. McAllister stepped into the living room, her eyes widening at the sight of her son bouncing around like a rubber ball. "Max?" she called out, her voice a mixture of surprise and concern.
Max froze mid-jump, his arms still raised above his head. "Hi, Mom!" he chirped, words tumbling out at lightning speed. "I'mbeingsupergrown-upanddoingexercise!"
Mrs. McAllister approached calmly, her eyes twinkling with a hint of amusement. "I see," she said, her voice steady. "And does this grown-up exercise involve... coffee?"
Max's eyes darted to the empty mug on the table. "Maybealittle," he admitted, fidgeting on the spot. "ButImadeitsuperyummy!"
"Oh?" Mrs. McAllister raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly did you make it 'yummy,' Max?"
"Sugar!" Max blurted out, grinning proudly. "Lotsandlotsofsugar! It'swaybesterthisway!"
Mrs. McAllister's lips twitched, fighting back a smile. "I see. And how many spoons of sugar did you use, exactly?"
Max's brow furrowed as he tried to remember. "Um... one, two, three... maybe ten? Or twenty?" He beamed, thinking this surely proved how grown-up he was. "That'showadultsdrinkitright?"
"Not quite, sweetie," Mrs. McAllister chuckled softly. "I think we need to have a little chat about moderation."
Max's shoulders slumped slightly. "But I was just trying to be mature," he thought, a twinge of disappointment creeping in.
Mrs. McAllister placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, Max. But being grown-up also means being responsible. How about you help me clean up the kitchen after lunch? That's a very mature thing to do."
Max's eyes lit up at the opportunity. "Really? I can do that!" he exclaimed, already imagining himself as the world's best kitchen cleaner.
As Mrs. McAllister led him towards the kitchen, Max's sugar-fueled thoughts raced. "I'll show them how grown-up I am! I'll clean so well, they'll want me to do it every day!" But even as he planned his cleaning conquest, a small part of him wondered if being mature was more complicated than he'd thought.
Max's eyelids drooped as he sprawled across the living room couch, his earlier sugar-fueled energy completely drained. The rhythmic ticking of the clock seemed to mock his exhaustion, each second feeling like an eternity. He let out a dramatic groan, sinking deeper into the cushions.
Leo, perched on the armchair nearby, couldn't resist a playful jab. "So, Mr. Grown-Up," he teased, a mischievous glint in his eye, "how's adulthood treating you?"
Max mustered just enough energy to lift his head slightly, fixing Leo with a bleary-eyed stare. "It's... exhausting," he mumbled, his words slurring together. "How do they do this every day?"
"Maybe they don't guzzle a gallon of sugar in their coffee," Leo chuckled, shaking his head.
Max's mind wandered to the mountain of dishes he'd tackled earlier. "I thought being mature would be all fun and no chores," he thought, a yawn escaping him. "But my arms feel like noodles from all that scrubbing."
"You know," Leo continued, leaning forward, "my dad always says growing up is overrated. Maybe we should just enjoy being kids while we can?"
Max's brow furrowed, contemplating Leo's words through his fatigue-addled brain. "Maybe..." he murmured, his eyelids growing heavier by the second. "But I still wanna prove I can do grown-up stuff."
As Max drifted off, Mia sauntered into the room, taking in the scene with an amused smirk. "Looks like somebody had a hard day at the office," she quipped, ruffling Max's hair affectionately.
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