As soon as the lesson ends, I rush to the Zen Loo to scroll through Erin’s Instagram. She’s posted a link to my vlog and a selfie of herself made up in her usual perfect way. She’s tilted her head to the screen, there’s metallic shadow on her eyelids, and her lips are red. It shouldn’t work, but it’s Erin, and it does. She’s written:
There’s a really interesting new vlog called #Help @MilliePorter that basically says people who like makeup are shallow. Girls, I don’t think another girl should tell you what you can or can’t do. Are you with me? I think it’s empowering to use makeup to make the best of your features. If you are anti-makeup, you are anti-freedom, anti-girl, and anti-feminist. #Feminist #GIRLPOWER #Makeup #Eyes #Lips
I don’t even bother to check my vlog. I take the biggest breath possible, leave the bathroom, and show it to Lauren. She’s standing with Bradley. Lauren puts her arm around me. Bradley puts his arm around me, too. What is going on?!
I manage to blurt out, “That’s not what I said at all. I just said that…”
“Look, Millie,” Bradley says matter-of-factly, despite the fact that he’s still got his arm around me. “To Erin, you’ve basically declared war. ANYONE who does anything half decent on social media threatens her. Unless it’s about lifts. BUT she’s also given you loads of publicity that you wouldn’t have had otherwise.”
Bradley is peering at me through his huge glasses in a way that makes me feel a bit confused. He’s sweet. And reassuring. And Lauren is looking at us both VERY suspiciously.
“Also, Millie, I, er … I, er … wanted to know if you wanted to meet up on Saturday again—to discuss your next vlog?” Bradley continues, going quite red. “I know it doesn’t seem like the world of escalators and the world of problem-solving have a lot in common, but I think that after seeing your … thing … that I know a way you could reach even more people.”
I can’t believe I am saying this, but I agree and tell Bradley that Saturday sounds lovely. Bradley immediately rushes off, doing his usual cling-to-the-wall disappearing act.
After what’s happened today, I need all the help I can get. I know I’ve got Loz, but she’s not an expert. And she’s currently exploding, grinning from ear to ear.
“Now, Millie,” she whispers, “you can’t say that is not a date! He totally, utterly likes you, NOT JUST IN THE FRIEND WAY! He put his arm around you!”
I’m about to yell at Lauren about the difference between professional business meetings and dates when Danny Trudeau taps me on the shoulder.
“Hi, Lauren! Hi, Millie! I liked Hashtag Help. Nice work! It’s good to know that I’m not the only one with a weird family. My dad is currently trying to build a model tank from scrap metal. He’s been watching too many killer-robot movies and is prepping for their takeover.”
I play it cool. “Do you know what sort of tank?”
Danny shuffles his feet, tilts his head slightly, and says, “Kinda big. Gray. Noisy when you’re chilling. Are you a weaponry expert, Millie?”
He beams at me. All of a sudden, I feel slightly hilarious in the good way.
“Not really. I know a lot about Nerf guns. I can SLAY with a Nerf gun.”
Danny looks me square in the face. “Now THAT I would love to see,” he says.
There is a huge, drive-a-bus-through-it uncomfortable gap. Am I meant to say, “I would love to have a pretend battle with you!” or “Anytime!”? In the end, just to break the silence, I blurt out, “I’m not really good with Nerf guns. In fact, I’ve never tried one.”
I don’t know why I say this. Danny looks a bit sad.
“Anyway,” he drawls, “I’m gonna do what you suggested: not try to change Dad. Just accept him. Even though he fired a toy grenade at me when I was doing my homework last night! It was a good vlog, though. I liked it. Gotta go. Bye, guys.”
Once he’s gone, Lauren and I turn to each other.
“Don’t, Millie,” Lauren snaps. “You’ve already got Bradley fancying you. Danny is ERIN PROPERTY. Don’t you DARE mess with him. He will be the icing on the cherry.”
Lauren means “the icing on the cake.” Danny Trudeau is out of bounds. I know it. Lauren knows it. Instagram knows it. THE WORLD knows it.
We hear a lovely dressage-horse clopping sound. Erin swishes by us and breezily calls out, “Hey, Millie! You know, I could see what you were trying to do: something powerful and … real. Only, it didn’t quite come off, did it? You just looked a bit … tragic. Still, there’s time to get good. Keep working on it! Danny, wait!”
And Erin catches up with Danny. I see his face light up. Erin flicks her phone out to show him something. I look at Lauren. Surely they are dating. It is inevitable.
“The Danny cake is burnt, Millie. Move away,” Lauren sighs.
The Queen has bagged her Prince, and I’m Cinderella with a vlog in a shed and no Fairy Godmother.