When I get home Mum isn’t back from work. I think she’s probably staying longer, as she doesn’t want to come home to a house without a Gary and one of his gourmet fish concoctions that he’s rustled up from nothing. She is already missing his cooking. Plus, there’s already lots of added dust. I clean for a bit, but I don’t try to cook anything. I want to cheer Mum up, not make her feel worse or potentially kill her with salmonella. Or botulism. I’ve googled all the germs. Some of them seem to have faces.
Honestly, I feel quite relieved that she’s not around. I don’t think she’d appreciate having anyone else here at the moment. I think she wants to, as Granddad would say, lick her wounds like a dog that’s had a car crash. This is one of Granddad’s favorite sayings. It means sometimes you don’t want to see anyone. You just want to hide yourself away in a tiny kennel, be kind to yourself, and pretend that no one else exists. This is a real blow to Mum. She’s said a flat no to any dating app. I can’t see her having a relationship for a long time. I think she thought Gary was “the one.”
At this point, I wonder if Danny is my one. I think it’s probably a bit early to have met your forever soulmate, but the thought of not having him in my life makes me feel very weird and bad.
I don’t have much time to think about this as the doorbell goes at precisely 4:56 p.m. It’s like Erin has been hovering outside waiting.
Erin glides in and seems completely at ease. She brings in lots of boxes. One for the face, one for the eyes, one for the lips, one for the cheeks—she is product central. All of it must have cost so much.
I manage to stutter, “I vlog in my room. Shall we do it there?”
Erin nods enthusiastically. In fact, she beams from ear to ear. “Thanks so much for letting me in on this, Millie. I know in the past I was sometimes hideous but, you know, I learned such valuable life lessons that have helped me grow as a person.”
This sounds like something from a book and I feel uneasy. It’s too late now, though. I put my chair near the window so Erin can have the right light and she begins to work her magic.
Erin doing my makeup is very different to the time that Lauren did it. There’s primers, bases, blushes, brows, and things I don’t even quite understand. Erin moves effortlessly from one box to another. She won’t let me look in the mirror till she’s completely finished. Finally, she lets me go to the bathroom to have a look.
WOW.
For the natural look, I do feel like I’m wearing a lot.
My lashes are so long, you could high-dive off them and probably do several somersaults before you hit the carpet. My lips are shiny like aluminum foil. My cheekbones are toothpick sharp. It’s all a bit much.
Erin can see that I’m a bit freaked out. “Don’t trust the mirror. This is cosmetics for the screen. Look in your phone! That’s what all this is designed for.”
When I look in the camera I’m blown away. I look incredible, but kind of not “me.” It’s like looking at Hollywood Millie. Red Carpet Millie. I feel like my character should sort of adjust to this new face. Which is actually just the face I had on half an hour ago but with loads of stuff on it.
Erin hangs over me like a mantis. I dare not try and change a thing.
There’s an uncomfortable silence.
Erin grins at all her work (i.e. me) and says, “Well, what do you think?”
I tell her that I think it looks fantastic, which is certainly true.
“I’m going to vlog now,” I tell her. “Any chance you can just wait in the lounge while I do it?”
Erin says, “Sure.” I wait till she is all the way downstairs before I start. The thought of having Erin as an audience while I vlog makes me feel uncomfortable. I don’t think we are friends yet.
I settle myself down in front of my phone. I take a deep breath and vlog …
Hi! Millie Porter here.
Just want to talk about homework. It’s not a glamorous subject, but Hashtag Help! Lots of us can’t concentrate because the universe is NEVER dull. Shout out to my best friend, Lauren, who inspired all this. Love you, Loz. I think a lot of people have the problem that Lauren has. Basically, it’s very difficult to do your homework when there’s a ton of stuff online that’s fascinating. I’m not just talking about looking at your friends’ Instagram pages, scrolling through your own timeline or how you can go down a rabbit hole on YouTube. That’s standard. I mean, when you google a fact for school that’s completely legitimate and then you find out something much more interesting. For example, did you know that the closest living relative to a T. rex is a chicken? That is genuinely more exciting than cell division and percentages. Though both probably played a part in making dinosaurs like poultry.
(I feel more up than normal. It feels like a forced up. I just keep wondering, what are people going to think? Relax, Millie. Think of your followers. They just want you. That’s what they are here for … and Dave. Probably Dave.)
You know what everyone says at this point. (I do an impression of a nagging mum): Turn the Wi-Fi off. I am completely incapable of doing that. But I know someone who can do it for me. I am first going to use the T. Rex’s nearest living relative: THE CHICKEN!
I pull out a cooked chicken drumstick that I got from the fridge. Mum was probably going to have it for dinner at some point.
I leave my bedroom and go toward the router on the stairs.
This is truly radical. Find your router. Ignore that other thing—that’s where my mum’s boyfriend’s robot vacuum used to dock, but he took it when he left. He forgot that bit, clearly, probably a bit emotional at the time, don’t look at that. Look at this. I simply put the chicken on top of the router and …
Totally on cue I can hear Dave running up the stairs. She spots the chicken and karate-kicks all the technology. The router tumbles to the floor and all the green lights go out. Dave drags off the chicken leg along with half of the cables.
The amount you can get done once your cat is eating the technology is incredible. It’s as simple as that. If you want to get more done and eventually get to college, get a hungry feline involved. They can truly take you back to the Jurassic period, where you can do your homework in peace. And it’s as simple as that! Leave any comments below and I’ll see you next time. Oh, and obviously I will fix this before I try to upload. There’s no need to mansplain to me. Thanks!
Erin claps for me at the end. She must have been listening all the way through. “That was seriously great, and just think how your look probably lifted it!”
“Yes,” I say. “To be honest, I’m worried about Dave. She has taken some of the wireless stuff with her and I don’t want her to bury it in one of her special places or take it to her panic room.”
Erin looks confused. “Does Dave have her own panic room?”
“No, not really. I mean behind the couch. But it’s actually really difficult to get to the back of it. Mum has to get the mop handle out to retrieve anything. And then she gets depressed because she realizes there’s still stuff underneath there from when I was little. She found a Sesame Street domino the other day. Not even Neat Freak Gary would try to fully clean it up. Too difficult!”
I’m doing a nervous ramble speech. I know it, and I think Erin has realized, too, because she just says, “Yeahhhh,” in a slightly scared way.
Then there’s this huge pause. We’ve both run out of things that we have in common. It’s the same thing that happens with the relatives you only see at Christmas. They ask you how you’re doing at school and about the weather and then you just start saying anything to fill the gaps.
Erin must feel the same thing, as she decides that her mum really needs to see her about something. I thank her very much. I think she’s expecting a hug, but that feels wrong so I just squeeze her arm a bit.
As she leaves she says, “I hope we can do this again, Millie. It was great working with you. I think we’ve taken your vlog to the next level.”
I agree, though I don’t know if it’s the level I want to take it to. I don’t like heights. I feel like we’ve pressed the button for the penthouse when all we really wanted was the seventh floor. Or something.
After Erin has gone, I find all the bits of machine and I manage (FEMALE POWERHOUSE!) to put the router back together. I upload the vlog while Dave plays with the chicken leg. She hasn’t eaten a lot of it. I’m tempted to dust it off and put it back in the fridge, but then I remember I can’t get away with that anymore. It’s now on vlog record that Dave mauled the meal. Mum is off her food, anyway. She calls it the heartbreak diet. She says you’re guaranteed to lose at least seven pounds in seven days but the side effect is wondering if you’ll be alone forever.
If that doesn’t prove that all diets are evil nothing will.