When I get home, I go straight upstairs. I wait and then I wait some more. I tidy my desk multiple times and check my phone every other second. I don’t even know what I’m looking at half the time. I scroll through an Instagram account about succulent plants. I have no idea why. I just like a good cactus and it’s something to do.
Finally, at stupid o’clock, Danny appears on Messenger and calls me. Seeing his face is just THE BEST. It’s been a very long day.
Danny grins from ear to ear and screams, “Hey, girl! I saw the vlog—it’s good to see you just getting on with things! I like that!”
What does this mean? Of course, I am just getting on with things. Did he think I would vaporize without him?! I can completely cope with this situation and I don’t like anyone suggesting that I can’t.
Obviously, I don’t say this. I’m not having our first conversation become our first transatlantic argument, so I just say, “Yeah! Bradley came up with the idea. Isn’t Huevos gorgeous?”
Danny nods. “He’s AMAZING. It was so good to see. I couldn’t stand the thought of you just being an overemotional wreck. I don’t want that guilt, really.”
Overemotional wreck?! WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN? How has our first chat turned into this? Is this how Danny sees me?
“No! I’m having a good time! If anything, I toned down my natural upness a bit, as I thought you might be a bit jealous.”
Danny dismisses this immediately.
“God, NO! I’m not jealous at all. No, I meant it. You’ve got to keep on it. You’re incredible at what you do!”
On the flight home Danny seems to have devised the perfect girlfriend-annoying formula of “quite patronizing” and “not jealous at all.” Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want an envy maniac—but I’d like him to be a little bit annoyed that I’ve done a joint vlog with Bradley.
After this, Danny talks. And talks. I peer down my phone as he tells me about flight attendants and vegan meals and seeing his grandma at the airport (she probably got there by rocket pack or something equally as dangerous), his house is huge, it’s good to be back, and then, “anyway,” he “has to go” because “there’s stuff to do and friends to see and…”
Just as I’m about to tell him MY news, Lauren calls me and this cuts Danny off. I go to reject the call, but press ACCEPT instead. I am very annoyed at Lauren, at life, at my ludicrous fingers, and a bit at Danny, too—though I’m not quite sure why.
Lauren whispers. It’s impossible to hear what she is saying. I lose my temper quite fast.
“Lauren! This better be good,” I say irritably. “I was just talking to Danny for the first time. I’m going to have to put time into this, you know, to make it work!”
Lauren then does the thing that she always does when she’s trying to be quiet—she shouts.
“Millie. FORGET DANNY. WE NEED TO TALK NOW.”
This better be good, I think to myself. This better involve a major life crisis—illness, death, or worse.