My Life Uploaded

by Rae Earl

  He grunts at me. “Must be going well, Millie. Don’t you let fame go to your head, though.”

  It’s hardly fame, Granddad, I think, but then he still doesn’t understand how to use the DVR. I’m not even going to try to begin to explain this.

  “I don’t understand it, Millie,” Granddad continues, “but Teresa tells me it’s going well. It’s going better than her attempts to make a smoky-lamb-flavor ice cream, anyway.”

  “Do you ever get annoyed at Teresa, Granddad?” This is a sort of mean thing to ask, but I do wonder. Granddad is old-fashioned and sensible, and Teresa is … not.

  Granddad stares at me. He looks tired. “You have to let people make their own choices, Millie. Some people think I should have been harder on my kids and then they both wouldn’t be living at home with me and trying to make money in stupid ways. But there’s more to life than making money and having a job that impresses people. It’s called contributing, Millie. Contributing.”

  What does this mean? I hope I’m not going to get a gardening lecture. It was lovely of Granddad to help me out with my pumpkin competition in first grade, but I know far too much about garden plants than the average thirteen-year-old should.

  “Contributing to other people’s lives. Trying to make things better. There’s lots of ways to do it. Picking up rubbish is a way to contribute. Just taking care of yourself is a way to contribute. Even trying to fuse a kebab and a Cornetto is a way to contribute to life. You are doing it by sharing that common sense of yours and trying to make people’s lives better. I’m proud of you.”

  This makes me so warm inside, I could burst. Compliments from Granddad are like really rare orchids that only grow in specific climates.

  I told you. I know far too much about plants.

  “But just one thing, Millie.” Granddad looks almost stern. “I know that brain of yours—full of ideas but full of worries, too. Don’t give away so much of yourself that you’ve got nothing left. Don’t get into situations that put you in the firing line of idiots. You’re still only young. You may have an old head on those shoulders, but it’s a sensitive head that needs watering, shelter, and love. Keep away from the weeds. And remember, sometimes weeds have pretty flowers.”

  I give him a hug.

  “Now I suppose you’ll be wanting my shed again. Well, you can have it. I’ve got a serious appointment with some begonias out front.”

  “Thanks, Granddad.”

  I love Granddad. I suppose getting trolled is as inevitable as getting your fingernails muddy when you do the gardening. You just have to toughen up and get a good liquid soap. Or something. You can’t wash bad thoughts away, but you can park them in the farthest bit of the brain supermarket parking lot near the mind gas station.

  I really need to get my head together before the next vlog, or no one will actually know what on earth I’m talking about.

  #TrollTakedown

  Lauren plods into the shed. Her eyes are a bit red. She must have been using her witch hazel wipes to redo her mascara. She squishes up her face, holds out her makeup bag, and points at me. “Now. Do you want some foundation just to make you look a bit less like actual death?”

  Before I have the chance to say anything, a brush is on my face.

  I very gently move Lauren’s hand away. “No. Let’s keep it natural and real and … us.”

  Lauren squeals. “Mills! I’ve just got a massive splinter from the shed.”

  Lauren shows me her finger. There is literally a tree sticking out of it.

  “Lauren! That looks terrible! Have you had a tetanus shot? It’s this disease that’s in plants and wood and stuff. It makes your whole body lock up. You can’t speak or anything!”

  It’s amazing how many things can kill you horribly. Even sweet things like blades of grass and daisies. And mushrooms. There is a type of mushroom that basically makes your liver explode. It’s called a death cap. There’s also a destroying angel. It sounds like something out of a horror film but it can grow in forests near your house. This is why I like living in a town. These are the sorts of things that I wish I didn’t know. My head goes a bit odd and my breathing feels …

  “So tetanus locks up your entire body? If only Erin would get it!” Lauren giggles.

  This is an evil thing to say but it stops my brain spiraling down into fungus doom.

  Lauren looks guilty. “Well, I don’t want her to die, but it would be nice if she could shut up for a while. Though, knowing her, if she got tetanus, her face would freeze in a massive beautiful grin and she’d take a selfie from the hospital and get a million likes.”

  This is probably true, but I say to Lauren, “Let’s just get your splinter out.”

  “OH!” Lauren leaps into the air. “Should will film it?! Should we do, like, a first-aid advice thing? Medical procedures get loads of views and stuff, and we—OUCH!”

  It’s out.

  Lauren sighs, disappointed. “We really missed an opportunity there, Mills. Splinter vlogging could be massive. Do you want me to give myself another one so we can film it?”

  “No, Lozza! Don’t hurt yourself! Let’s just do my vlog.”

  “Do you know what you’re going to say?”

  The truth is, I have a very good idea, because I haven’t been thinking of much else.

  “Yeah. I’ve got a rough idea,” I mumble.

  The thing is, after talking with Bradley, I now know there are people waiting to hear what I am going to say. They will get alerts when I post. Their phone will ding! Or beep! Or vibrate!

  I take a deep breath. Lauren gets out of shot and sticks up her thumb.

  “Hello! Millie Porter here! ‘Hashtag Help Me Cope With Trolling.’

  “I’m just going to read you some of the comments that have been left on my vlog recently:

  “‘Talentless ugly cow. Delete your account.’

  “‘Why bother???? Fat and not funny.’

  “‘Typical woman telling us how to act. Sort your own life out.’

  “‘Ugliest fake ever.’”

  (Reading them out loud again makes the sides of my eyes feel itchy. Got to keep bright. Got to keep sensible. I swallow.)

  “It’s really hard to read stuff like that, but here’s what I try to remember. These people don’t know me. They are just really sad, horrible people sitting in their bedrooms or at bus stops with no friends. And they probably feel dreadful and useless about themselves. If they see someone doing something fun or interesting, they just want to hurt them and bring them down.

  “I’m not saying that I think you should be nice to trolls. Just ignore them, or imagine them standing in a shopping center in their underpants. That’s what my mum does before big meetings, and it makes even scary people totally silly. Focus on the good stuff or the nice comments instead.

  “We can all be tools. I’m not saying it’s right! I’m saying inner toolness can erupt like a volcano and spew twonk magma all over your … shirt. Like that project I did in elementary school.

  “Anyway, SERIOUSLY, bullying is horrible, and it makes your life a living misery. It could be being called names or getting slapped. It could be to your face or online or BOTH. The point is, you shouldn’t take it. Tell someone IN POWER, because you deserve to feel … good. No one should feel like rubbish because of other people. I KNOW that sounds preachy and dorky, but look: It is FACT. Just like it is a fact that you can’t lick your elbow. Look!”

  (And I try to lick my elbow.)

  “And I know you’re probably watching me now, thinking, ‘She looks like a massive goof with no makeup,’ but that just goes to show that looks can be—what’s the word?—a bit wrong and um … just … just … don’t think that you’re on your own. You are NOT.

  “So that’s me, Millie. Hashtag Help me to help you, and leave any comments below. Unless you’re a troll. You can hashtag OFF!”

  It sounds good. I’m pleased. Then I hear an odd noise in the background. It’s my best friend, and she is crying.


  I rush over to hug her. “Lauren. What’s the matter?”

  Lauren sniffs. “Oh, it’s just you talking about not letting other people bring you down. It makes me think of my mum and dad. I spoke to my mum, Mills, and she said I’m not allowed to stay here tonight, but you know, I honestly dread going home. What’s the point of me being there? It’s like when I had that piñata for my birthday and my mum started smashing it in a temper? There were Haribo gummy bears everywhere. I know that sounds sort of funny now, but it wasn’t. The thing is, Mills—”

  At this precise, dreadful moment for bursting in, Aunty Teresa bursts in and says, “HELLO, GIRLS!!! Oh! Lauren, are you okay? It’s boys, isn’t it? Don’t worry, I get it. Boys do make you cry. The fact is, they do not mature till they are about twenty-three, and honestly, they are not worth crying about. Is it kissing? It’s difficult, isn’t it? The best thing to do is practice on your own hand. Just stick your tongue out and kind of—”

  “Teresa! We don’t need to hear this right now!” I yell.

  Teresa actually shuts up. For four seconds.

  “Okay. I’m going, but if you want to know ANYTHING about boys, just come to me. I am your woman for any information about men and ice cream. They are very similar things. Nice, but they melt under pressure. And you—”

  “TERESA!” I find myself properly yelling in a way that is slightly out of control and hurts my throat. Teresa just nods her head and dashes out of the shed.

  I look at Lauren. I don’t really know what to say.

  “Sorry!” Lauren sniffs. “It’s just … all very hard. Anyway, listen, I’d better get home. It will only make it worse if I’m late.”

  I give Lauren a hug, and we go back into the house. She grabs all her stuff from my room and says a slightly teary good-bye.

  I can’t imagine what it must be like to go home to actual war. I know what it’s like going home to total neatness and now total chaos, but THAT … The only really horrid stuff in my life is trolling, but at least that’s the outside world. It must be horrible if your family isn’t there for you. You need to look after the people you love.

  My mind feels so full at the moment. There’s the vlog and there’s Erin and Bradley and Danny and Lauren’s parents and Gary and the trolls and my head is spiraling a tiny bit.…

  My chest feels like someone is sitting on it.

  That’s when I decide to call my mum.

  #Mum

  Mum answers the phone almost immediately. She’s on Bluetooth in the car and turns down her awful music.

  “Hello, darling,” she says. “What’s up?”

  What is up? Where to start? I can’t, so I say, “I just want to tell you that I love you.”

  Mum pauses and says, “That’s good.”

  Then there’s a massive uncomfortable silence and I find myself blurting out, “Have you had a tetanus shot lately, Mum?”

  Mum sounds puzzled. “Er … no. The advice has changed. You only have to … I’m not sure. We order the needles, but I’m not a doctor, darling. If I ever start working with animals from abroad, I’ll have one.”

  Despite working in a hospital, Mum always gets tetanus mixed up with rabies.

  Mum starts to sound worried. “Millie, have you been reading about tropical diseases on Wikipedia again?”

  I can’t lie to my mum.

  “No … Well, a bit. Tetanus isn’t tropical, though. It’s here.”

  “Hang on. I’m pulling over. What’s really the problem, Millie? What are you worried about? I know how your head works.”

  And she does know. She gets me better than anyone. I just can’t tell her right now.

  I don’t say a word, and Mum says, “Come home whenever you want. You know you can. We miss you.”

  It’s like she is psychic.

  “I know,” I say to her. “Anyway, you get on. I just love you.”

  “I love you, too, Millie—and just before you go … if you ARE feeling worried about something, make a list of all the things that are on your mind. It really helps, and you can work through them one by one. It’s the sensible thing to do. See you soon. Love you. Bye!”

  I flop back on my bed. The truth is, I’m worried about LOTS of things. And I KNOW some of them are silly and stupid, but I can’t help myself. I’m doing an advice vlog, but inside, I’m a mess.

    1.  My best friend may be getting tetanus.

    2.  My mum could possibly have tetanus, too, for all I know. She doesn’t understand things she should understand—like deadly diseases.

    3.  I have made the worst enemy on earth in Erin.

    4.  I have a massive crush on a boy who will never be mine.

    5.  A boy who Erin really likes, too, and who really likes Erin.

    6.  There are really bad people on the news doing really bad things.

    7.  What if the bad people get hold of terrible mushrooms?

    8.  Okay, that one is ridiculous. Perhaps these lists do help.

    9.  Am I hurting my mum by not being with her?

  10.  Where is my dad? I thought living with him would make me feel all FREE! It just makes me feel nervous. And a bit alone.

  11.  Will Aunty Teresa actually kill someone with her fusion food?

  12.  Please let Aunty Teresa never put mushrooms in food.

  13.  Sometimes I worry that terrible things are happening to the people I love and there’s NOTHING I can do about it.

  14.  People are calling me ugly, and it hurts.

  15.  My vlog just makes me look like a massive dork.

  16.  My vlog just makes me sound like a massive dork.

  At that point, I get a text.

  Millie. Had a great idea about your vlog. Promise not to cosplay too much. Want to meet?

  I haven’t even replied to his last text. I add another point to the list.

  17.  I STILL don’t know how I feel about Bradley.

  I upload the vlog. It’s 7:45 p.m. I will honestly, HONESTLY not check the vlog again till 7:00 a.m. tomorrow.

  #Heart

  I wake up at 4:00 a.m. on Sunday. This is just plain wrong. This time should not exist. I’ve had more views on the new vlog than on the previous one. I give in and check the comments.

  I watched your vlog. It’s not as easy as that.

  You look fresh! I love your look! It makes a change from everyone else covered in lipstick.

  SPOON.

  Trolls aren’t all tragic. Some of us genuinely hate you.

  Perhaps I’ve taken on too much. I can’t really tackle stuff that I haven’t experienced myself, can I? I do just sound stupid and dorky. People have told me I am a total idiot, and do you know what? They are right. I better think hard about what I can vlog about next. Like Bradley says, I have to think about my brand.

  But then there’s one comment from @DannyTruds …

  Another great vlog.

  And a heart emoji.

  A HEART!!! THAT’S EPIC.

  And confusing.

  Does that mean he…?

  Danny and Bradley are in my head a lot. Like a massive, swirling boy mess. My whole body feels like a whirlwind. I need to try to go back to sleep.

  #MillsTheSpills

  I’m dreading school this week. I know full well that another vlog puts me right in Erin’s bombing range, and I don’t know how to respond to Danny’s heart. It might just be a friendly heart, or it might be a big, pulsating, “LET’S BE TOGETHER” heart.

  No prizes for guessing which one Lauren thinks it is. When we’re searching for a table in the cafeteria at lunch, I tell her about the heart.

  “He could just be being friendly,” Lauren says grumpily. This isn’t really the answer I want to hear. She’s been grumpy all morning.

  “You don’t know that for sure!” I say.

  “Oh, come on, Millie.” Lauren almost snaps at me. “You know Danny and Erin are spending LOADS of time tog
ether. Stop being greedy! Bradley is your man! He is a major full-on nerd, and you are pretty with a mega brain. You went on a date. Do the love math.”

  The truth is, I think she may be right. He did look at me through his glasses in the same way that he looks at escalators—with love and respect. “But do I want to have a relationship with someone who spends all their time in lifts?”

  “Lifts are sexy!” Lauren says with her big wide eyes, annoyed. “In films, people always kiss in lifts because they are private, aren’t they? You could even combine vlogs! ‘Hashtag Help From An Escalator.’”

  This makes me laugh LOTS. “Lauren … don’t be ridicu—”

  What happens next will go down in history.

  While I’m laughing, I seem to completely lose the ability to actually walk. My right leg decides it would like to break free of my body and make a dash for the other side of the room. I find myself flying through the air in slow motion. I slam my hands down to break my fall, but my tray and my food fly absolutely everywhere. I basically create a chip fountain. It’s probably spectacular to watch.

  The whole cafeteria erupts into clapping and cheering. This is normally what happens when someone drops their tray, but it’s probably the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me EVER.

  Lovely Gracie runs over and starts helping me pick up the chips. Lauren picks me up. She understands falling over. “It’s hormonal,” she whispers. “We can’t help it. It causes an ankle-and-toe imbalance. Even without high heels. Remember when I did it? It’s a normal part of life.”

  From the corner of my eye, I see Danny staring at me.

  Way to go, Millie. There’s nothing like a good carpet of carbohydrates when you’re trying to impress the man of your dreams.

  I also see Erin. The grin is wide and the phone is UP. She got all the aftermath.

  Also RUNNING toward me is Bradley with another plate of food. How did he get that so quickly? He must be sacrificing his own chips.

  “Here you are, Millie!” he says. “Saves you waiting in line again.”