Erin does her beautiful head tilt and snarls. She’s whispering, but to me, her message is loud and clear.
“You think you’re cool. You’re not.”
I go all pathetic. “I don’t think I’m cool at all.”
“Yes, you do,” she whispers. “But YOU are small. My vlog has already had thousands of views. No one wants to see you giving us your advice. Who do you think you are?”
This makes me angry, and I have an attack of the braves.
“I’ve had loads of views, too. And I know you’ve looked at my vlogs because of your Instagram. And I think you’ve been doing some enormous trolling.”
Erin tilts her head to the other, equally glamorous, side. We should ALL be over girl-on-girl hate, but Erin makes it impossible.
“The trolling is nothing to do with me,” she growls. “I don’t mind telling you what I think of you to your face. Do you know what people say about you behind your back? That you’re DULLSVILLE! That you think not wearing makeup is a new thing that makes you some kind of amazing rebel. You are not going to change the world and get a prize, Millie. It’s all been done. And people are doing it BETTER.”
I start to lose it now. “I KNOW. All I’m trying to do is help people because I’m dull and sensible, Erin! And because being around you has totally taught me how to deal with twonks who only love themselves and want to make other people’s lives a misery.”
And then Erin goes all Disney evil queen and says, “I can destroy you. Never forget it. Leave this to the people who actually know what they are doing and have something to say. Leave Instagramming to people who want to make this world look better, not worse. Basically, Millie BORING Porter—WIND IT IN, GET LOST, and DISAPPEAR!”
She still isn’t finished, though.
“Oh, and don’t for one second think that Danny is interested in you. We are going bowling after school this week. That was a pity chat. He’s a nice boy, and he feels SORRY for you. He’s not attracted to you. Boys like him would never go out with girls like you. This isn’t a cute fairy-tale land where the gorgeous boy likes the clever girl. Go and have your happy ending with the lift geek. You can spend your time pressing buttons and misusing the emergency bell. Thrilling!”
Then Erin Breeler glides off.
My mind tries to find lots of amazing things to say. I reach right into my brain, but I’ve got nothing. So I stand there like the goldfish Dave brought in from someone’s pond once. All tragic and flapping and gasping for air. Erin has played with me like Dave played with that fish, and now she’s dumped me in the kitchen by the microwave, expecting someone else to clean me up.
I’m destroyed.
I’m having a full-on attack.
I need to get away NOW.