Girl (In Real Life) Page 13

  “All sorted?” Mum asked, as Dad put the phone down. He leaned down and kissed her on the lips, right in front of me and Carys.

  “Gross,” I muttered, then Dad picked me up and spun me round like he used to do when I was little. That’s the thing about having a dad who’s 198 cm – you’re always little. “Dad! Put me down!” I said, trying to wriggle out of his arms as he repeated, “Gross? Gross?” Carys was doubled over laughing. I was so glad he didn’t pick her up as well.

  “So?” Mum asked again when he finally put me down.

  “It’s all sorted,” Dad said. “We are safe from sharks! Time to celebrate.” He took a beer out of the fridge, topped up Mum’s wine, then handed me and Carys a bottle of Coke each.

  “But what about all the subscribers we lost?” Mum said. “I don’t think that’s something to celebrate, honey.” My ears pricked up when I heard this. Like Miss Fizzy’s do when she hears the cupboard where we keep cat treats opening. I exchanged a look with Carys, my heart practically leaping across the kitchen.

  Dad told her not to worry, that they’d soon come back. “Or we’ll get some new ones.” He threw a peanut in the air and caught it in his mouth. “Our newspaper column goes live tomorrow, remember. Ash has secured the channel. We’re doing the workout video in the morning. We’ve got nothing to worry about!” He planted a kiss on Mum’s head as I gently clinked my Coke bottle against Carys’s. We didn’t need to log in this time to cause trouble. We locked eyes and smiled. That’s what you think.

  That night, Carys lay on the pull-out bed that’s usually hidden underneath mine. We were supposed to be asleep. I reached up and switched on all my fairy lights. The ceiling lit up with stars, only slightly wonkier. And some in the shape of pineapples.

  “Your room’s epic!” Carys said, looking up at the ceiling.

  “Thanks,” I said. “My mum did it.”

  Carys leaned on her elbows and looked up at me. “So, the plan is to do the workout video tomorrow, then afterwards say I can’t be on the channel?”

  “Yeah,” I replied. “Then they’ve wasted all the time filming it, and they won’t even be able to use it. It’s foolproof! Although my mum’s head may explode.”

  Carys giggled. We were both silent for a while then she whispered, “Do you feel bad about what we’re doing?”

  I thought for a second, then whispered back, “No. Why, do you?”

  “No,” she said, and both of us laughed so hard we had to put pillows over our faces.

  The next morning, Mum came in to wake us up. She had her hair in a side ponytail and a fluorescent green sweatband round her head.

  “Ready to do the workout video, girls? I have leg warmers!”

  I groaned. “Can’t you and Dad do it on your own?”

  “Oh, come on!” Mum said. “It’ll be fun!”

  Carys yawned and stretched. “I’ll do it. I don’t mind.”

  “That’s the spirit, Carys!” Mum said. “Did you call your parents? Are they okay about you being on the channel?”

  Carys nodded, then glanced at me. Suddenly music started and Dad appeared wearing a purple leotard over his cycling shorts and a fake moustache. He gave Mum a kiss on the cheek and started moonwalking.

  “Come on, you two! Get into the groove!” He wiggled and sang, “My hips don’t lie, ladies!” and we all burst out laughing.

  “Okay, fine!” I said, chucking a pillow at him. “Just please stop doing that!”

  Half an hour later, Dad had pulled the projector screen down in the living room, moved the sofas and put four yoga mats on the floor. I pulled at the green shiny catsuit Mum had made me wear. I looked like an alien. Carys was in yellow cycling shorts, a pink leotard, sunglasses and matching leg warmers. We’d both refused the sweatbands.

  Dad stretched his arms and they almost collided with the ceiling. “OKAY, LET’S DO THIS!” he said and pressed the remote. Andrea, the workout woman, appeared on the screen. She was wearing a leotard and the same purple leg warmers as Mum.

  “Welcome to my workout channel!” she said. “I’m Andrea and today it’s 1980s workouts! Before we start, those of you who know me, know I am completely obsessed with doing my nails.” Andrea waved her fingernails at the camera. “So, here’s a little word about my sponsor…”

  Dad did warm-up lunges as Andrea revealed that the secret to feeling “truly confident and proud of who we are” was using Super Freak gel polish. At this point in my life I was willing to give it a go.

  When the workout finally started, Dad must have done a hundred different warm-up lunges. Me and Carys were already in hysterics. We were standing behind my parents, so we had no choice but to witness them do the move Andrea called “buns of steel”. That kind of stuff should be illegal.

  “Oh my God, that was so funny!” Carys said afterwards, taking a massive swig of water. I opened the patio doors and we went into the garden for some cold air. I was still out of breath. “Your parents are actually really cool.” I looked at her. “I mean it! Mine are so boring and normal. They would never do anything like that.”

  “I dream about my parents being normal,” I said. Carys followed me to the swing seat and we both sat down. “I mean, you don’t actually want people at school to see us wearing this stuff?”

  Carys looked down at our outfits. “No, definitely not. So, if I get my mum to call yours and say she doesn’t want me on the channel, your parents can’t post the video?”

  “Yeah,” I said, sipping my water. “They need permission. Hallie’s mum thinks the channel is psychologically damaging, so she never let Hallie be on camera. Any time she came over, Mum and Dad couldn’t film.” I pulled up my leg warmers, then changed my mind and pushed them back down. “Anyway, it got really awkward. Then Hallie stopped coming over.”

  “Is that why you’re not good friends with Hallie any more?”

  I gently pushed my feet against the ground so the seat started swinging. “Kind of,” I said. “Then Gabi happened.”

  “What happened with Gabi?”

  I shrugged. “I hate her guts.”

  We both laughed as Dad walked through the patio doors.

  “Hey, girls, you want your pancakes out here?” He brought over a tray of chocolate pancakes, strawberry smoothies and watermelon triangles. Mum brought out the Bluetooth speaker and my new iPad so we could listen to music.

  “Download something new if you like,” she said. And after that it was hard to convince Carys that my parents were genuinely ruining my life.

  “I don’t know, Eva,” Carys said, taking a bite of chocolatey pancake. “I thought your parents would be, like, mean or something.”

  “They’re okay when I’m cooperating,” I said. “Call your mum now and get her to say they can’t put the video up, you’ll see what they’re really like.” I heard some rustling coming from the bushes. “Hey, Spud,” I called.

  “I smelled pancakes,” he said, emerging from the hedge. “Hi, Carys.”

  Carys waved, then got up, holding her phone to her ear. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

  “Want my dad to make you a pancake?” I asked Spud, even though he’d already started eating mine.

  “I wanted to ask you something,” Spud said. “But it’s kind of personal.”

  “Is this about the Roundhead haircut again? Because honestly, if you are even considering that…”

  “No, not that.” He fiddled with the edge of his phone cover. “If you were a girl, would you like getting a poem?”

  “What do you mean, if I was a girl?”

  He laughed. “Sorry, I meant, like…a girl from school. I mean, not you. It’s not for you.”

  “What’s not for me?” I quickly grabbed the phone out of his hand. It was open on the notes page.

  “Roses are red,

  Violets are blue,

  Ferromagnetic fluid is magnetic,

  Paramagnetic metals are too…”

  “Eva!” Spud snatched his phone before I could read the rest. />
  “Is that supposed to be our experiment write-up? Because honestly, I can’t see Mr Jacobs appreciating poetry.”

  “No, not for that,” Spud said. “You know like Miss West said, how people used to write poems in the sixteenth century?”

  “Yeah. She also said they used to wipe their bums with hay. Wait a minute. It’s Valentine’s Day in a couple of weeks.” Spud’s cheeks turned red. “Oh my God, Spud. Who’s it for?” He wouldn’t meet my eye. “Spud, you’re not seriously planning on sending this to someone at school, are you?” He smiled awkwardly. “Is the whole thing science-related? Because, no offence, but I think it’s just you and Nerdophobia who are into that stuff.” Spud squinted up at the sky. Then I felt bad. “Sorry, I’m just trying to look out for you. If you send that poem to someone at school, they’ll share it with our entire year. Everyone will make fun of you from now until eternity.”

  “Not everyone cares about that stuff, Eva.”

  “Okay, well, whoever it’s for, make sure she knows what ferromagnetic fluid is. Otherwise she might not get it. And the ‘roses are red’ thing? Kind of dumb.” Spud winced, like I’d just given him a dead arm. “Sorry,” I said. “It’s sweet. But I know what people at school are like.” Spud’s face looked kind of sad. “But, I dunno. If she’s into science then she’ll probably really like it.”

  “Okay, well, it turns out she’s not that into science. Or poetry. So I’m deleting it. I’ve got to go,” Spud said, running towards the hedge. “Thanks for the pancake!”

  Before I could respond he’d jumped head first back through the bushes.

  “Did Spud just jump through that bush?” Carys said, sitting back down.

  “Yeah,” I said, watching the patch of bushes he’d disappeared through. “He does that. Did you speak to your mum?”

  “Yep,” Carys said. “She did actually freak out about the idea of me being online after all the St Aug’s stuff. Anyway, she’s calling your mum right now.” My eyes shot to hers. “Don’t worry – I made her promise not to mention that. I just hope your parents don’t hate me.”

  “They won’t! But anyway,” I pointed to my catsuit, “what choice did we have?”

  After my parents had spoken to Carys’s mum, the atmosphere in the house changed. Carys packed her stuff in my room and we could hear Mum downstairs saying, “It just seems like such a waste now!” and “We’ll have to do the whole thing over!” It was kind of majorly awkward.

  “I’m really sorry,” Carys said, as we walked downstairs. “I should have asked my mum first. I didn’t realize she’d be so strict about it.”

  Mum blinked a few times. Weird how some people can make blinking look angry. “Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart. We just thought you’d already asked your parents.”

  “Sorry,” Carys said, biting her lip.

  “It’s fine,” Mum said, getting up from the sofa and giving Carys a hug. “We understand. We’ll just…redo it! You don’t mind putting your leg warmers back on, do you, Eva?”

  “Actually, my legs are kind of aching,” I said. “I’ve pulled a muscle or something. Also, I have my science experiment stuff to write up for Monday.”

  Mum smiled, but I could tell she was already regretting the homework schedule. I didn’t care. How she felt was nothing compared to how bad I’d feel if thousands of people, including half my school, saw me in a bright green catsuit doing the booty roll.

  But I was stupid. I thought something like Carys’s mum not wanting them to upload the video might actually stop them.

  The next day was Sunday, and the day of unplugging. Only I’d already forgotten and accidentally went on TikTok while I was getting dressed.

  “Eva!” Dad called from downstairs. “Don’t forget we’re riding to Bourton Hill today.”

  I groaned. Dad’s idea of a perfect day involved a way-too-long bike ride, and unfortunately it wasn’t technically below freezing this morning so there was no way of getting out of it. I clicked on Google Maps to find out how far it was to Bourton Hill. Eleven miles! I pulled on another pair of leggings.

  “Unplugged day today, remember, sweetie,” Mum said, appearing at the door.

  “Whoops,” I said, closing Google Maps and trying to figure out how to switch off my phone.

  I eyed the bright pink cycling helmet Mum was wearing. “Is that new? Why have you got it on already?”

  “Check it out!” Mum said and turned to the side.

  “Is that a…horn?”

  “Yes!” Mum squealed. “Isn’t it cute? It’s called the Unicorn.”

  “Well, don’t impale anyone.”

  “Ha! Well, I hope you don’t either!” She held up a fluffy helmet with a gigantic horn on each side. “Yours is called the Highland Cow!”

  “Please tell me you are joking.”

  “Think yourself lucky,” she said. “Dad’s wearing the Beast!”

  “Oh my God,” I said as she handed the helmet to me. “I’m supposed to wear this for eleven miles?”

  “Twenty-two!” Mum said. “We have to cycle back, remember.”

  As I was getting my bike out, I was so relieved it was our unplugged day. At least no one would see me looking like this. At that exact moment, Spud appeared at the bottom of the drive.

  “Woah!” he said.

  “Say anything and I will kill you.”

  “It looks like you actually could!” he said. “What’s it supposed to be? A minotaur?”

  I sighed. “A highland cow.”

  “Well, just to warn you, Chip’s got his BB gun out.”

  “Ah, Spud!” Mum said, pushing her bike out of the garage. “Perfect timing. Take a photo for our Instagram, will you?”

  I glared at Spud and shook my head.

  “I’m afraid I can’t, Mrs Andersen.”

  “Oh, come on. Just a quick one once we’re on our bikes.” Mum held out her phone.

  “I’m afraid that would constitute an infringement of the rules of the 8W Official Day of Unplugging.”

  I mouthed “Thank you” then said to Mum, “We’re doing this for our special assembly! Spud takes these things kind of seriously.”

  She sighed. “I don’t know why I ever agreed to this.”

  “Right!” Dad said, jogging down the front steps. His cycle helmet was grey with a massive red mohawk.

  Spud’s eyes lit up. “Woah, Mr Andersen! You look epic! Could I borrow that off you one day? It would go down a storm at Games Club.”

  Dad smiled. “I’m sure it would, Spud. So, are we ready to roll?”

  After six miles of cycling over massive hills, my hands were freezing and my thighs were burning. Mum had complained about the Instagrammable landscape shots she kept missing. I’d have to somehow do my history homework without the internet when we got back. Mrs Peters said we could look up the English Civil War “in a book”. Like anyone has books about that at home.

  “Lars, can we stop for a minute? Look at that view!” Mum said, gazing out towards the hills. “One selfie won’t do any harm.”

  “Come on, Jen,” Dad said, wiping the sweat from his top lip. “We agreed to unplug today.” And for a few seconds, I actually thought Dad cared about my assembly. “That’s the whole concept of the Tranquil Eyes takeover. If you post any pictures it’s obvious we weren’t screen-free.”

  “Okay, you’re right,” Mum said. “But I’m not missing the opportunity to photograph you in that helmet.” I turned away and heard the click of her phone. “Eva, smile!” I turned round and did the fakest smile I could. “Beautiful!” I’m not sure if she was being sarcastic.

  By the time we got to Bourton Hill it had started raining. Which my dad seemed delighted about. “Ah, this is so invigorating!” he said, pulling off his Beast helmet and tilting his face towards the sky.

  “Invigorating?” I said. “I literally can’t feel my fingers. Where’s whatever it is we’re supposed to be looking at anyway?” I looked around for a monument or building. Or any sign of human life.


  “What do you mean, where is it?” Dad said. “This is it! We’re here! Beautiful countryside, nothing for miles around. Peace! This is being truly unplugged.”

  I took a seat on the nearest rock. “Okay, but what are we supposed to do?”

  Half an hour later, we were squashed inside a pop-up tent playing Bezzerwizzer, this Danish board game which Dad likes because he always wins. It was so cold I was forced to wear Dad’s spare cagoule.

  All the way home, he went on about how wonderful it was to “get back to nature”. He only stopped after me and Mum had to pee behind a hedge, and she threatened to call an Uber if he said anything else. But I guess, apart from the wild peeing, and getting soaked by the rain and the dumb cycle helment, it felt pretty nice not worrying about it all going online.

  On Monday morning, Miss Wilson made us write our reports about what we’d done yesterday. Only I knew half our class didn’t even take part properly, because I’d checked Instagram and Snapchat before I went to bed. I tried to think of something to write that didn’t involve a cattle-themed cycle helmet, Bezzerwizzer or wild wees. We went on a bike ride, I wrote, then chewed the end of my pen. What was I supposed to say about being unplugged? My entire life was still online, even when I wasn’t.

  “And Eva?” Miss Wilson said as she collected in everyone’s reports. “Did you enjoy the digital detox?”

  “My parents forced me to go on a bike ride in the rain.”

  Miss Wilson smiled. “A bike ride in the rain sounds invigorating to me!” Which was literally what my dad said. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy reading your report.” She would probably feel differently when she actually read it. “I thought you could take centre stage for this assembly, Eva. Talk about your experiences a little. It will add an extra dimension to our assembly.”

  “Oh,” I said, glancing at Hallie. “I thought the form captain was supposed to lead assemblies.”

  Miss Wilson flicked through the bunch of papers she’d collected. “They do normally, but I’m sure Hallie doesn’t mind sharing the limelight considering the topic, do you, Hallie?”