My Life Gone Viral Page 12
“Why would you torture yourself?” Dad says wearily. “I haven’t got enough time for the people I love, let alone the people I can’t stand. If people upset me, I just cut them out. Try it.”
Teresa and me look at each other and pull identical “He doesn’t really get it, does he?” faces. I’ve tried to explain. Sometimes you have to accept you can’t change people. In fact, all the time.
Dad looks at his watch. He’s one of the few people I know who tells the time with something on his wrist and not on his phone.
“Right, Millie, I’ve really got to go. I’ve got to get the bus to the airport seven hours early just in case of traffic.”
I hug Dad tightly. I’m already sick of good-byes. They make me sad. And I’ve got more to come. I take a photo of Dad’s bag and stick it on Instagram with this description.
Won’t be vlogging for a few days. My dad is going to live abroad again and I’m feeling a bit over it.
I can’t tell people about Danny yet. I just can’t face it. That’s for a time when I’m feeling a bit stronger. I don’t want everyone to see me crying. I am NOT a good crier. My face collapses.
On the way back to my house Granddad sends me a text with another flag.
Millie, this is Guatemala.
It has a lovely bird on it and guns.
Hope you’re okay.
I love Granddad even when he’s weird. He’ll never move abroad. Mainly because with his hip he can’t actually walk that far.
Once I get home, I go upstairs and realize that Rod, Lauren’s dad, is there working on the mortarboard. My mum is directing him like he’s someone she manages at work. Really, my mum bosses everyone around. I like that about her, though, and I like the fact that it’s just us again.
“Ah! Millie!” She looks really happy to see me and gives me a huge hug. Rod smiles and sings another song to Dave, who is perched near the shower head listening to every word.
“Isn’t Lauren with you?” I ask.
“Nah,” Rod says quietly. “She wanted some time with her mum. They are doing girl stuff. You know.”
“What IS girl stuff?” Mum asks him angrily.
Rod smiles. “Anything females want to do. Motocross. Heavy lifting. Clothes. Protesting. Designing bathrooms. Women can do what they like.”
Mum laughs at this and Rod grins at her and winks. Mum and Dave love Rod. They haven’t seen his temper like I have. I have seen his darker side. It’s not all silly songs and skills. He’s made my best friend’s life very tough at times. I’m a bit wary.
“Do you know what? What a great idea!” Mum says enthusiastically. “I thought we’d go to look at tiles this weekend. We can create our new bathroom together!”
I know Mum is trying to be kind, but I don’t think this is a good idea. She’s trying to take my mind off Danny and my dad with tiling but, yeah, my mum is trying to take my mind off some of the most emotional stuff in my life by going to the shop for little ceramic squares.
It doesn’t sound like the world’s most successful plan, but anything is better than sitting in my bedroom for too long thinking about my life and how it’s turning very odd karma corners.
#Duffel
As soon as I wake up, I check my Instagram. There’s been a huge reaction to the photo of my dad’s bag. It’s only when I look at it for the first time in a while that I realize how cool it looks in a Hudson filter.
There are lots of comments.
OMG! Has your dad been to Chile? I have always wanted to go there! It sounds incredible!
(I’ve always wanted to go, too. I love the way it’s very long but looks about three miles wide.)
Totally understand your feelings.
(Thank you, RainbowGirlUnicornFeelings!)
Stop going on about your dad. Mine left when I was 3. I haven’t seen him since.
(Why do people follow me if I get on their nerves?!)
I wish my dad would leave. That would be good.
(This is a reply to the comment above.)
What a really cruel thing to say.
(Now they are arguing.)
You have no idea of my family!
(No, we don’t. How could we?)
And you have no idea of mine.
Where is this even going? Why are two people having an argument on my Instagram page?! It’s a PHOTO OF A GREEN DUFFEL BAG WITH PATCHES ON IT.
I lose forty-seven followers, but I pick up fifty-two.
If people don’t want me warts and all, then I don’t want them. This is absolutely what I should be thinking. I should be ignoring them and focusing, as Lydia Portancia would say, on my brand. It makes perfect sense.
Of course, instead of doing this I look at all their profiles and try to work out why they don’t like me anymore. I also still haven’t told Lydia that my next vlog will be au naturel, makeup-free Millie.
Jump that fence, Millie, when you need to, the implanted Mum in my brain says.
Right at the bottom of my post I see the comment.
Hang on in there hooman. Here mah love
Bajka, the brilliantly funny cat, has sent me a comment and a heart.
I should feel happy about this but I just feel jealous that a cat says all the right things when I mainly say the wrong ones.
Also, Erin appears on a sponsored post in my timeline. In summary, she is a diva now promoting a lip gloss and I am a vlog about random bits of my life and a cat.
For the rest of the morning, I am mainly very bored indeed in a home interior warehouse. The trouble is, Mum and I cannot agree on something we both like. I like bright and patterned. Mum likes white. Just white—not even white with a nice patterned trim.
* * *
Here are the things I learn from walking miles and miles around bathroom showrooms:
1. Tiles are dull.
2. Bathroom suites can cause huge arguments between couples. I think I witness a divorce starting today over a soap dish.
3. Tiles can cause huge arguments between mothers and daughters.
4. Your boyfriend who is JUST ABOUT TO LEAVE will text you whilst your mum is looking at sinks, and your mum will say, “MILLIE! CONCENTRATE!” like FAUCETS MATTER. Who cares what a faucet looks like as long as water comes out of it?!
Mills, we are busy packing and clothes auditing but want to see you lots. Can you come around this afternoon?
“Can I go and see Danny?” I plead with Mum. “I think you have a very clear vision of what water dispensers you would like.”
Mum looks at me with exasperation.
“Yes, fine!” she blurts. “BUT I do like the simple look, and I have an aesthetic power veto!”
I just nod. If Mum wants the world’s dullest bathroom, she can have it. I hope she and Rod finish it soon, though. He has a tendency to sing classic albums while he is working. The other day he re-enacted something called “Dark Side of the Moon” by Pink Floyd by hammering nails into floorboards and wailing at the top of his voice. I don’t mind, but Dave hovers around him like a major fangirl and tries to join in. She really is shameless.
#Huevos
As I’m walking to Danny’s, I put some music on. Walking with my music normally clears my head—even a head full of strangers and clever or disloyal cats.
Today, though, things are different. I see Bradley with someone new and furry.
Bradley is walking a new dog.
This is quite a shock. I don’t quite know why, but I feel like if Bradley has a new pet he should tell me. It’s a pretty big deal. This is a new woman or man in his life—I should be informed! This is of course ridiculous—it might not even be his dog.
Bradley strides toward me with massive, lanky man-steps. He looks very excited to see me. His new pooch seems a bit more nervous.
“Millie!” he exclaims very loudly for him. “I’m so glad to see you!”
I crouch down and stroke the new dog.
“And who’s this then?” I think I probably sound a bit annoyed.
Huevos licks me. He’s very friendly.
“Where did you get him from?”
“From the shelter,” Bradley whispers. “We don’t like to talk about it. He hasn’t had the best start. To be honest, I don’t like his name but it’s too late to change it. I wanted to call him Otis after my favorite elevator company but Huevos didn’t recognize it.”
Huevos sits down and starts to wash himself. It seems a bit of a weird thing for a dog to do in the middle of the street.
“Oh! Yeah. Another thing.” Bradley grimaces. “He also thinks he’s a cat.”
This makes me giggle a lot. Bradley gets a bit annoyed and defensive.
“He thinks he’s a cat,” Bradley explains. “It’s because he spent most of his early life with an old woman who had seven of them. She just fancied getting a small dog and, understandably, THIS small dog thought he was like everyone else in the room. Sometimes he tries to purr. Of course, it’s other dogs we have a problem with. He’s a cat. He hates them! He tries to attack them. We are thinking about going to an animal psychologist.”
I try not to smile but it’s very hard.
Suddenly, Huevos sees a Labrador on the other side of the road and starts rolling on the ground. He barks and lunges and snarls. The owner of the Labrador looks very unimpressed. Bradley shouts, “Sorry! He’s got issues!”
This makes me laugh and I feel a bit better. Huevos is a lovely furry distraction.
Bradley winks at me. He realizes that this is a little bit funny.
“He likes lifts, though. I might start featuring him on my vlog. I’ll pretend he’s an assistance dog. That way we can go everywhere together. I do think he understands me more than most humans do.”
I can believe this. Bradley looks really handsome these days but most people still think he’s a bit weird. It’s their loss. I love being with him, even when he does have a snarky moment.
“He’s going then,” Bradley blurts out on cue. “Your man is leaving us.”
Correction. I did love being with Bradley. This annoys me. The Danny news has gotten around quick!
I look down to the ground and shuffle my feet.
“I haven’t even announced it yet!” I say crossly.
“It’s not really your news to announce, though, is it, Millie? Danny is telling people.” Of course, this is correct, but I don’t like the thought of people knowing the truth. It makes it more real.
Bradley can see I’m upset.
“Shame,” he says with a shrug. “I thought Danny was a good guy.”
This is an out-and-out lie, and I’m not having it. “You hated him!” I shriek. “You never liked him—and less of the past tense, please! He IS a good guy!”
“I didn’t hate him.” Bradley is very defensive. “I don’t hate anyone, Millie, and I know you liked him!” Bradley corrects himself. “LIKE him!” Bradley looks down. “I’ve had long-distance stuff, and I know it can hurt.”
I forget that in the world of lifts and elevators, Bradley has a global-geek thing going on. He’s done long-distance relationships before.
I ask him a question that I just want the answer YES to.
“Can you make things work?”
Bradley sighs. “It’s not easy, but it’s possible.”
I just wanted him to say YES, but Bradley will give you the truth. He’s not capable of giving anyone anything else.
“How do you make it work?”
Bradley crouches down to Huevos and starts to stroke him. “Keep all lines of communication open. Message each other, see each other, be prepared to be awake at funny times of day to be there for each other, don’t forget what brought you together in the first place and—”
Huevos starts wrestling with his leash. He’s spotted a Doberman headed our way and he wants a fight with it.
“Huevosssssssssssss!” Bradley semi-yells. “Sorry, Millie, I need to go.”
“Can I talk about your relationship on my vlog, Bradley?”
Bradley shouts as he’s being pulled down the street. “Yeah, if you want. Don’t mention Huevos yet, though, yeah? I’m a bit embarrassed, as he’s technically a problem dog.”
Bradley disappears with Huevos yapping like a crazy thing. I always feel better after seeing Bradley. He’s sensible like I’m sensible. We fit together, really.
Not in that way, though. It’s Danny and me forever, before you get any ideas.
#PackUp
When I get to Danny’s house, it’s already half packed up. It’s wall-to-wall boxes. The Trudeaus have made little pathways through them all so you can get to different rooms. It’s like being in a subway system. Danny can see I look a bit horrified.
“It looks bad,” Danny says, “but we didn’t bring too much with us in the first place. We knew we wouldn’t be around forever. Most of my stuff is in storage. There’s not a lot of need for ice hockey equipment in this city.”
“Ice hockey. I never knew you did that!” Who is this man that I call my boyfriend?
“Oh yeah, I LOVE it!” Danny’s eyes are like saucers. You can tell this is something that he ADORES. “You know there’s a machine called a Zamboni that smooths the surface of the ice. You can drive it! It shaves the ice like a razor on skin, then it smooths it all inside. THEN it spews it out to make recycled ice that you can skate on!”
“Wow,” I reply with an unwow voice. I realize that Danny comes from another world. A world of snow.
We spend the rest of the afternoon together. It’s like it always is—he’s funny and he’s sweet. He does an incredible impression of not just a Zamboni but a moose, the teacher at school who gets a bulgy vein forehead thing when he gets cross, and a pedestrian crossing. Don’t ask how. He just does.
It’s all going fantastically until he starts to talk about leaving, and then he gets serious.
“Can you do me a favor after I’m not here, Millie?”
“Depends what it is,” I say cautiously. Mum says never go into negotiations blind. You have to know what you’re doing.
Danny looks fidgety.
“Stop worrying so much. HAVE FUN. Have fun in this space and place right now. Because I’ve moved around so much, I’ve discovered that. If you aren’t where you are, you’re nowhere. I didn’t think of that—I saw it on TV—but it’s TRUE. And ignore the trolls. They are nothing to you. They are THIS!”
Danny starts to do an impression of a fly that buzzes around me for a time, then dies horribly in the middle of the floor. His legs go everywhere.
“They are THIS!” Danny shouts to me again. “And you are Millie Porter. You’ve got this incredible thing going on. Don’t ruin it!”
It’s hard to take advice from someone pretending to be an insect, but I know he’s trying to be kind. And I know he’s right.
When I go to leave, we have a tremendous kiss. It reminds me exactly of what I am going to miss. It goes on forever till his mum shouts up to say that his dinner is ready. Mums seem to have a sixth sense when it comes to anything even slightly passionate. One bit of tongue action and all of a sudden the pasta is boiled and will self-destruct if you don’t come and get it immediately. It must be something they teach you in parent school.
When I leave, Danny hugs me very tightly. The kind of hug you can still feel in your skin after the person has gone. The best kind. Not too tight, but real and firm. Danny is leaving, but he doesn’t have to leave my head.
The whole afternoon has made me feel a bit braver. I think I’m ready to share my news with the world now. I think I’m ready to admit that …
Danny is going.
There. I managed to say it without losing the plot.
As I’m walking home, I get a message from Dad. Sometimes he texts things he wants to say, but can’t.
Millie. I love you and I think what you are doing is marvelous. You’ve inspired me. BTW my plane is late. Pilot strike.
I’d prefer not to be an inspiration and for people to stick around. That would be good.
#LongDistanceVlog
As I get home, I have repeated the mantra “Danny is going” many times without folding into a miserable heap of blubs, and I am ready to vlog.
I sit myself in front of my desk in my room and set everything up. Normally, as soon as I get in, Dave would be trying to get some food off me, but she’s nowhere to be seen. I check in her panic room, behind the bookcase, and under my bed. I finally find her in the bathroom. Rod isn’t there, but Dave still looks like she’s waiting for him. I think Dave has a cat crush on Rod. She’s pining for him and his singing. When I pick her up, she tries to jump back into the empty bathtub. I have to coax her out with lots of strokes and a tickle between the ears. I also promise her some blue cheese and ham. We don’t have either, but one thing Dave cannot yet do is check the fridge on her own. This is sort of lying to her, but sometimes, when you’re vlogging, you have to do it. I carry her downstairs, collect some cereal boxes from the kitchen, and give her a standard mini fish cat treat. Dave is unimpressed.
When we are back in my room, I put Dave on my lap and press RECORD. I’m bare-faced and “me,” and Lydia is just going to have to deal with it.
Hi, everyone. I’ve got some huge news for you.
Hashtag Help my boyfriend is leaving and he’s going back to his home of Canada! Now, I think we can totally make it work. You tell me, though—can we? The main problem with Canada is this …
I get my children’s atlas out. It’s a bit embarrassing as it has a cute cartoon whale explaining facts about all the different oceans but it’s the only one I’ve got.
… look at Canada. It’s big. It’s huge. And it’s not near where I live. A massive amount of land mass full of fantastic wildlife like beavers.
Beavers are incredible. Say, if Dave were a beaver …
I start to put cereal boxes around Dave until she is completely surrounded.
… she would build her own dam. And there she would sleep, eat, and raise her young.