by Rae Earl
And with that, Bradley quickly gets up and dashes up the stairs that are there for people who are terrified of lifts.
I stand there feeling like I’ve been with one of the wisest, sweetest, weirdest people on the planet. He shouldn’t live under coats. He should spread all that brain everywhere and not just on escalators. Also, he said very lovely things about me, which makes me feel … odd.
I need to get back to Lauren before I forget all the good advice he’s given me. I think we’re ready to start #Help.
#DICTATORHAIR
I get the bus from the mall to Lauren’s house. The whole time, I’m thinking about Bradley.
When Lauren lets me in, she looks really confused. “I’m reading something someone has shared. They want hair like a young Joseph Stalin but they don’t want to show a photo of Stalin to the hairdresser.”
I am very used to Lauren being a bit “out there” but this is seriously random even for her.
“And…?” I ask.
Lauren stares at me. “What’s so wrong with Stalin?”
Where to start? I spend the next five minutes explaining that Stalin killed everyone who didn’t agree with him, that millions starved when he was in control and that generally, he was completely horrible with a really bad moustache.
Lauren listens to all this and then holds up her phone and shows me a photo. “But, to be fair, he was really fit when he was younger. Look! He could be in a boy band.”
There is absolutely no doubt that Stalin was quite attractive when he was younger, but it all comes back to what Bradley says. How much do we let people get away with stuff in real life because they are fit and take a good photo? I’m feeling quite – what word does Mum use? – MILITANT about this.
Lauren interrupts my thoughts. “Anyway. What did the escalator geekathon spoonfest say?”
“Don’t call him that!” My reaction takes me by surprise. I feel a bit protective about Bradley now.
Lauren looks at me. “Millie. I would be amazed if Bradley Sanderson didn’t seriously fancy you! I mean, how many NON-dates do you think he goes on?”
“Lauren!” I snap. “It was NOT a date and he does NOT fancy me. We’re just friends. He has a girlfriend. He can help me and we can both … have a good time.”
Lauren drops her phone and shrieks, “YOU fancy Bradley Sanderson!”
“No!” And I really don’t. “But he knows his stuff, Lozza. He says planning is the key. And he thinks that the vlog should be REALLY honest and talk about stuff that properly affects people. And –” I sort of say this really quickly – “I shouldn’t wear too much make-up.”
Lauren looks like I’ve gone mad. “Everybody wears make-up in vlogs and in life, Millie. It’s one of the world’s lovely things.”
She’s gone pale. I can see it even through her foundation.
“Lauren, I don’t think no make-up is a bad idea. I want to talk about how you don’t want to go online because of how you look. I won’t say your name! I’ll just talk about how to be more confident and what to do if people call you names. And just by me not wearing make-up, it makes the point that it’s real and I believe what I say.”
Lauren has gone even paler. There is now probably not even a shade of foundation that exists to match her skin tone.
“Millie, I’m worried about you.” Lauren puts her arm round me. “This is basically an invite to every troll in the world. It’s like walking up to Mr Style Shame and saying, ‘Come into my bedroom and call me a spoon.’”
I remember what Bradley said about everybody getting trolled, whatever they do.
“I can handle it,” I say.
At that point, an odd sound starts downstairs. It sounds like a thunderstorm.
Lauren sees me looking a bit concerned.
“Don’t worry, Mills. When my dad gets really cross with my mum, he does a drum solo on the radiators with forks. Their marriage counsellor said it was a good way to ease the tension.”
I hear Lauren’s dad shout, “I’m only here because of her!”
Lauren sighs. “He also does that. A lot.”
I don’t know what to say. Which is every shade of useless.
Lauren must sense this because she hugs me and says, “Let’s get together in the shed tomorrow. Let’s do it. I’m there for you every step of the way – as long as I can be off-screen with defined brows and decent lippy.”
“I love you, Lauren. You’re brilliant. Just please don’t marry a Russian dictator.”
Rubbish jokes are all I can manage sometimes. She smiles and I leave. Her parents don’t notice. Her dad is playing the kitchen units and her mum has turned the TV up to a volume level that even Grandad could hear.
#Help is happening. Lauren is ready. I’m ready. I think.
I think I am. Can I handle it though? Can I handle people calling me stuff?
I hope I can delete it from my head.
When I get back to Grandad’s, I start to plan what I’m going to say. I write down a few notes. I have to be clear in my head about what I want to say and where I want things to go. I need to keep focusing forward. Moving up like a … lift.
No. You can stop thinking that too. I do NOT fancy Bradley. I do, however, love someone who is just proud to be who they are and gets on with it. Hurrah for escalators … in a way.
#REALVLOGONE
Lauren and I are in the Shed of Vlog. It’s Sunday morning and Grandad has taken down his calendar. This is a small but sweet act of loveliness on his part. Now everyone will know we are nothing to do with wading birds.
Lauren moves a spade out of the way and looks at me. “Are you ready, Mills?”
I tell her yes. I’ve been practising all night in the mirror. I think I’ve got it. I’ve planned my advice and how to say it. I’ve nicked a bit of it from stuff I’ve seen in magazines but I think I can get away with it.
Lauren counts me in like a proper film director. “Three. Two. One. ACTION!”
“ Hello. I’m Millie and welcome to the very first #Help vlog! You can see I’m doing this without any make-up on. Extreme close-up please, Lauren.”
(And Lauren zooms the phone RIGHT in so you could basically dive into my pores.)
“And the truth is, I’m really scared because no make-up means—”
(At this point, we hear a very loud, odd version of “Humpty Dumpty Sat on a Wall”.)
“Ignore that! That’s my aunty Teresa. She’s bought an ice-cream van and she’s just got the siren thingy working. She hasn’t got any freezers, but she’s working on that.
“Um, where was I? OK, I just want to explain why I’m doing this without any contouring or stuff. I love make-up but there are things that are more important than eyeliner. I didn’t want to be all shallow and for my vlog just to be about how I look.
“Anyway, today, I want to talk to you about parents. #Help Me Cope With Crazy Adults in My Life. We are always told that anyone over the age of eighteen should know what they are doing. The fact is, they don’t. As you can hear, my aunty Teresa has bought a mobile dessert lorry. I wish I could say this was the first crazy thing she’s ever done but it’s not. And I don’t think she’s going to change. In fact, as long as the adults in your life are not actually hurting you, you kind of have to accept that they are very unlikely to change. If they are the sort of people who are convinced they invented synchronized swimming in a paddling pool at the age of four, they are probably going to be the same at forty-four.
“Accept them and, if you can, try to help them. For example, my aunty Teresa has said that she is going to make an avocado and chilli ripple ice cream for her van and I’ve very gently steered her back to peanut butter and caramel. You can make a difference to people’s lives and … puddings.
“Now, coping with random adults is less difficult than coping with crazy parents. Crazy parents expect more of you so are basically a different species. I have lovely parents, but my mum is currently going out with a man who thinks that a vacuum cleaner’s feelings are w
orth more than mine. So I’m living with my dad. He is great, but not around that much.
“Generally with parents, I think that the following FOUR things are good to do:
1. Tell them where you are going. If you just disappear somewhere, they get really upset. If your parents watch a lot of programmes like CSI this will be massively the case, as they think really clever murderers live in postboxes on every street.
2. Occasionally – and I know it’s hard – start a conversation with them about school. This makes them stupidly happy and they stop asking you all those questions about your day, so it’s a massive win–win situation thing.
3. Ask them about what they were like as teenagers. They might be weird about this to start with, BUT you could see a really surprising human side of them. They may have had snogging issues or have been dumped horrifically. Remember, most of them didn’t have a mobile phone till they were twenty-something, so their stories can be unbelievable. My mum once waited in a park for over an hour when her friend was meant to be meeting her. Her friend had actually been in a nasty homemade-rollerblade accident in her own garden and couldn’t walk. She wasn’t horribly injured or anything but no one could tell Mum. Her friend had a hedge and a wheel on her head and Mum was completely in the dark, sitting in a park eating chips. Our parents had it really tough. You’ve got to give them a bit of love for that…
4. OK, this step is harder. I have a friend whose parents argue loads but they are staying together because of her. We all know that is just the worst idea ever. It would be far better for them to just call it a day and… Anyway … if you’re living with adults who yell a lot, just – I know this is hard – like the HARDEST – but try to remember this is not your fault. And I KNOW they always say that on TV and in books and in serious chats at school. But it’s TRUE. Your parents are just tools. A good thing is to take them aside and say, ‘Look – your arguing is really getting to me and making me feel awful.’ If you tell them how you feel, it might just work. It might not. It could make it worse but honesty’s worth a try.
“So that’s me, Millie, with #Help Me Cope With Crazy Adults in My Life. Please leave your comments and um … until next time…”
I try to make a hashtag with my hands. I’m not sure it works.
“#Help me to help you!”
Lauren presses stop.
I look at her. “What do you think?” I ask her.
Lauren pulls the sleeves of her shirt over her hands.
“How you say I should handle my parents in real life is different from what you’ve said there.”
This is true. It is.
“I know,” I say. “But I’m trying to be more general with things so it can help more people. Do you know what I mean?”
Lauren looks sad. “Yeah,” she sighs. “They are pretty unique. In a bad way.”
I try to get off the subject and cheer her up. “What did you think of the whole vlog?”
Lauren thinks hard. “Er. Good. For a first go. I think. Not, er, too preachy,” Lauren says. “Are you going to upload that?”
She looks unsure. I stare at her.
“You know what, Lauren. I think I’m going to just think about it for a while. I think that’s…”
And we both say it together:
“Sensible.”
#UPLOAD
I sit in my room for hours. I tidy everything about four times. I look underneath the bed and discover a box of My Little Ponies. I go on eBay to see how much they’re worth. I find out they’re worth nothing because Teresa has cut off their manes and written, Teresa is the best jockey ever all over them. I brush Dave and then try to tie a small bow on her head. She attempts to eat it.
After all this, I still can’t decide whether I should upload the vlog or not.
Eventually, I decide I need some advice about my actual advice vlog.
I track down Grandad. He’s in his shed. He’s put his calendar back up and he’s sawing a piece of wood. He does this a lot. You never get to see where the wood goes or what it does.
“Grandad, would you do something even if you thought people would laugh at you for it?”
Grandad stops sawing and sits down. “I married your grandma.”
I hate it when he does this. Rubbish, ancient anti-women jokes. You need him to be helpful and he just goes silly.
“Grandad! I’m serious!” I yell.
“So am I,” he sighs. “You’re old enough now, so I’ll tell you something. But keep it to yourself. Your grandma was pregnant with Teresa when I met her.”
My brain takes a second or two to process this. This is a major revelation. I had NO IDEA. “What?” I yelp. “So she isn’t yours?!”
“She’s mine,” Grandad says firmly. “Blood isn’t always thicker than love. Your grandma was seen as damaged goods years ago. People told me not to marry her. But she was lovely. She’d made a mistake. A man told her he loved her and he didn’t. I did. So I married her and I didn’t have a miserable day or a sandwich for dinner in thirty-five years. You’ve got to do what you think is right, Millie. Common sense, that’s what you’ve got. Teresa hasn’t got any, but at least she follows her heart. That’s something. If YOU think what you’ve got to say is worth hearing, who cares what other people think? If it could help one person feel better, SHARE IT! But Millie…”
And Grandad looks at me and grabs my hand. “You HAVE to look after yourself though. That’s important. Now, get lost. I need to cut some wood.”
Grandad may be harsh but sometimes he gets it right.
That’s it. I’m going to do it.
I call Lauren as soon as I close the shed door behind me.
“I’m with you,” Lauren says and that’s JUST what I want to hear. “Can I come over? I’d quite like to get out of the house, and anyway, we’re doing this together.”
When Lauren arrives at the house, she’s carrying a celebratory chocolate hazelnut dip. “Let’s toast to our success with sweet breadsticks!” she shouts before shoving one in my mouth and laughing. It’s a great friend that helps you AND brings you random sugar.
Just as we are about to press upload, my stomach suddenly goes into a panicked flutter. The questions that have been rushing around my head all day suddenly seem all too real. What am I doing? What will Danny – or Bradley – think about it? What if Mum or Erin see it?
Dave chooses this moment to jump onto my laptop keyboard and attempt to steal a breadstick.
She also presses upload.
Lauren looks at me. “Well, Mills, it’s gone. Decision made. It’s up. Hashtag it on ALL your accounts with #real #vlog #makeup #feminism #advice #life and anything else that’s trending now and let’s see what happens!”
I agree with her but tell her we should leave it for twenty-four hours before we even check the views. Otherwise, we’ll just get down about it. New vlogs take time to build an audience. I read that in an article.
Lauren just puts her hugely serious face on and says, “This is history, Millie. This is gorgeous Stalin when he could be in a boy band. This is…”
At this point, Aunty Teresa bursts in shouting, “Have you started a proper vlog, Mills?! Grandad mentioned you were doing something involving videos that everyone in the world can see. Brilliant! And perhaps, if it goes viral, you can ever so subtly put an advert in for my ice-cream van too!”
Lauren catches me eye. We don’t want to tell Teresa exactly what we’ve said about her.
“Let’s see how it goes,” I say.
I think I say this to Aunty Teresa quite a lot.
Aunty Teresa skips off to work on more ludicrous flavours of ice cream.
Lauren looks at me very seriously. “How are you going to even sleep tonight now that it’s out THERE?”
My tummy does a backflip. Perhaps I should give my phone to Lauren so I’m not checking it all night, but then … I know that I’ll just look at Dad’s iPad. It will be impossible not to check. Impossible not to see how people react. Impossible not to… “Loz, it w
ill be impossible.”
“Millie!” Lauren shouts. “You’re not a celebrity. Nothing will happen for hours. DON’T WORRY. This is a really fun thing we are doing. Don’t spoil it!”
Lauren is right but it’s a bit of a major life-role reversal when she is the sensible one.
“I bet you can’t stop yourself checking it!” I snap.
“Bet I can!” she laughs as she deletes the app off her phone and off mine too.
“Lauren!” I yell. “This is INSANE!” And it is, but I feel like being totally insane.
“RIGHT! No checks till lunchtime tomorrow on any device! #PINKIEPROMISE!” Lauren giggles as she curls her little finger around mine. This is our sacred bond. I can’t break this. I think if I do, something dreadful will happen.
It probably won’t.
I hope.
I try to have an early night. Dave walks on my forehead pleading with me to give her some tuna-flavoured luxury cat snacks. It’s hard to relax.
A MASSIVE part of me says this has been a terrible mistake. It may lead to glory or it may lead to…
#CHEMICALREACTION
I spent last night reading too many articles about terrible diseases. But I managed not to look at the vlog. Now it’s Monday morning and I’m sat in Science with Lauren, watching Danny Trudeau.
And I’m not the only one. He’s been picked to perform an experiment in front of the class. Never in the history of school anywhere in the world has potassium permanganate been put on a dish so perfectly. The way Danny picks up a spatula is poetry. He follows instructions on the whiteboard with tiny glimpses and, without even looking properly, manages to get just the right amount of scoop. Danny Trudeau. Scoop Master. If this was a YouTube video, the comments section would be all heart emojis and jealous scientists saying they could do it better. They couldn’t.