Girl (In Real Life) Page 5

  Hallie shook with silent laughter beside me.

  “Well done, Eva,” Mr Scott said. “You just told me you drank a cow.”

  Which actually did make me laugh too.

  On the way home, Spud told me he’d said, “May the force be with you” in German. He’d thought it would distract Mr Scott from asking me about the weekend.

  “Thanks, Spud,” I said when I got to the bottom of my drive, “but you really don’t need to stick up for me.”

  “I know,” Spud said, taking a run-up so he could hurdle over his garden wall. “I guess you can stick up for yourself – now you’re a woman!” I heard his shoes scrape on the gravel as he landed, and even though I still felt upset, a snort-laugh escaped from my nose.

  But when I turned to my house, stabs of anger went through my skin. Yesterday Mum and I were laughing and eating cake and pointing out the funny cartoons in the Don’t Ovary Act! book. And now everything – all that private stuff – had been seen by thousands of strangers. And half of my school. I’d spent the afternoon planning what to say. But now, I didn’t even want to go inside. I tapped my phone. 135k views? I felt like I was falling. And I couldn’t stop myself from scrolling through the comments.

  Bless you, Jen!

  Thank you so much for sharing this moment!!!!

  OMG made me cry

  I gave my daughter an emergency period kit for

  her locker!

  Happy first period, Eva!!! Enjoy your presents!!

  Thought she started already

  Sad we didn’t get to see the party

  Like if you’ve been here since Eva was a baby and

  this is blowing your mind. [1.4k likes]

  The doorstep was out of the wind, but it was still freezing cold. Some of the street lights had come on already, creating little halos of orange. My hands shook as I read comments and replies, refreshing the views counter until my thumbs felt numb. Almost five hundred thousand people knew I’d started my period. I hadn’t even wanted Dad to know. I wondered what those people would say if they could see me right now. The Eva standing outside the front door, a murky feeling of dread spreading from my stomach to my brain, then pouring down into my heart like rain. But no one ever sees this Eva. This Eva would get edited out, deleted, thumbs down. Unsubscribe. This is the Eva no one wants to see. Standing on the doorstep by myself, watching my life exploding on the screen without me. Trying my best not to cry.

  Mum was coming downstairs when I opened the front door. My heart dropped. Her face was covered in green gunge. It was so typical of my mum. She’d probably put on some weird face mask to make me laugh. Well, it wouldn’t work. If I had to talk to her while she looked like an extra from Doctor Who, fine. I stared, unsmiling, into the camera she pointed at me.

  “Oh, Eva, you’re freezing!” she said; the green crust on her skin cracked slightly around her mouth as she spoke. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m not speaking to you with the camera going,” I said, my chest thumping with anger.

  “Eva, please. It’s just some filler stuff for Wednesday’s vlog. How was school? Want to try out one of these face masks? You’ve heard of pink clay, right? Well, this is green mud! It’s infused with eucalyptus, purifying charcoal and four different minerals. And doesn’t it smell incredible, Eva?”

  I glared into the lens. “You look like a witch.”

  Mum put the camera down and tipped her head to one side. “Eva. That’s not exactly the reaction footage I was after.”

  “You vlogged about my period!” I shouted. “You promised you wouldn’t!” It wasn’t the big speech I had planned. But they were the only words I managed to say before my voice cracked, and they slammed down between us like a falling tree.

  “Oh, you’ve already seen it,” Mum tried to say, but she couldn’t move her mouth properly because of the mask. “I’m so sorry, sweetie! I was going to talk to you about it tonight. I didn’t think you’d see it at school. I know you said you didn’t want me to film the party, and I respected that, but I needed to share the stuff I put in your gift box.” She tried to put her hand on my shoulder but I shook it off. “Oh, please don’t be upset with me!”

  “Of course I’m upset!” I said, tears burning my cheeks. “Everyone at school has seen it! It’s totally embarrassing. Even Mr Scott knows! You promised you wouldn’t!”

  Mum flinched. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. I didn’t want to upset you, honestly. I wanted to talk to you about it first. But this sponsor has been putting pressure on me and…”

  Her words stung, like when Farmor used to dab tea tree oil on my grazes. I felt like my chest was about to explode. “I can’t believe you!” I shouted.

  “Oh, Eva, honey.” She tried to hug me, but I stepped backwards. Then she said she loved me a bunch of times. Like that means anything. “I do understand you’re embarrassed,” Mum said, or at least I think that’s what she said. Her fask mask had completely set and she had to stretch her mouth into weird shapes to get her lips to crack. “I hate seeing you so upset. But listen, periods happen to every girl. And it’s already one of our most popular ‘Specials’. The attitude to periods is changing, sweetie. It’s no longer this big embarrassing thing.”

  “Mum, you don’t get it,” I said, my voice shaking with anger. “You have to take it down right now. Before anyone else sees it.”

  “Listen, Eva. Once you’ve calmed down, you’ll see—”

  “I’m not going to calm down! I don’t even want to do the stupid channel any more. It’s ruining my life!”

  Suddenly, an alarm started ringing. I felt so angry I didn’t even jump.

  “Oh, goodness!” Mum said, tapping her phone. “I’m so sorry, honey, but I have to take this face mask off.” She tapped her cheeks. “I’d leave it, but it’s actually stinging a little bit. Then we’ll talk about this properly, okay?” She ran upstairs and called over the bannister, “That nice man from the Crêpe Cabin called round earlier to say thank you. He gave us a tub of their marshmallow ice cream! Help yourself while I take this off, okay? I’ll have half a scoop.” The mask cracked further as she smiled. Her face look like a dried-up pond.

  I dropped my coat on the floor, grabbed my sketchbook out of my school bag and headed into the snug. I wanted to go to my bedroom, but Mum was upstairs and I didn’t want to be anywhere near her.

  I wiped my eyes with my sleeve and sat down on the sofa next to Miss Fizzy. She yawned and stretched her paws onto my lap. I drew the outline of a huge butterfly and kept adding spirals until its wings looked like they were covered in gigantic black holes. I began adding tiny eyes around the edges, when I heard Mum coming downstairs. I quickly closed my sketchbook and covered it with a cushion. I never show Mum or Dad my drawings. I keep all my sketchbooks in my locker at school, or hidden at the back of my wardrobe. I’d thought about showing them a few times, especially when Miss Wilson gave me an Excellent on my art report last year. As dumb as it probably sounds, doodling is the only private thing I have. My sketchbook felt a bit like a diary. I could put stuff in there – in my pictures – that I couldn’t share with anyone. So there was no way I wanted to share it with the world.

  “There you are!” Mum said. She couldn’t sit down because Miss Fizzy was stretched out and neither of my parents ever dared move her. She looks cute and cuddly, but it would be safer to rattle a wasp’s nest than to disturb Miss Fizzy when she’s asleep. Dad calls her Den Onde. It means The Evil One. I glanced at Mum standing by the door. That name would suit her a lot better right now, I thought. She came over and crouched in front of me, so I kind of had to look at her. Tears started in my eyes again.

  “Can we talk about it, sweetie?” she said softly. “I honestly didn’t think the video would upset you this much.”

  I took a deep breath and said, “You betrayed my trust.” It was one of the things I’d planned to say earlier. Only out loud it sounded stupid, like something a character would say in one of the eighteenth-century novels Miss West read
to us in English last year. But it was too late to take it back. So I looked her dead in the eyes, like I’d meant to sound like I was about to challenge her to a duel.

  “I know it probably feels like that, sweetie,” she said, taking my hands in hers. Up close, her skin had a green tinge, the colour of an artichoke. Maybe the mask had permanently stained her skin. I hoped so. “I’m sorry I broke my promise. And that you’ve been teased at school. I’ll email Miss Wilson about it right now if you like.” I looked down. Miss Fizzy’s fur twitched as my tears fell on it. “But honestly, Eva, you shouldn’t feel ashamed. You’ve got so many people out there supporting you, cheering you on. Hundreds of thousands! It may seem awkward and embarrassing right now, but—”

  “It’s not my period that’s embarrassing, Mum. It’s you.” She looked like I’d thrown a dart at her head. But I didn’t care. Maybe I wanted to hurt her. Maybe I wanted her to feel how I did when Alfie played her video to my class. How I felt every time I read a nasty comment. Or watched one of their stupid videos.

  “Okay, well, maybe I deserved that,” she said, and a wave of guilt went over me. I swallowed. It should be her feeling bad, not me. “I know you’re angry with me right now, Eva, but let’s try to keep this in perspective—”

  “You’re not going to change my mind,” I said. “I don’t want to be on the channel any more. So you and Dad will have to figure out something without me.” I chewed on a strand of my hair and waited for her to say something.

  Mum sighed and bit the inside of her cheek. Then she said, “I’m sorry, Eva. Maybe I got this one wrong. I should have waited and got the okay from you before I uploaded the video. It was really silly of me.” I rolled my eyes at the word silly. Like that could even describe any of it. “I should have thought about your classmates seeing it before you. But I was excited! We had such a great time yesterday. I wanted to share that with everyone. Most of our subscribers are other parents, and they want to hear about this stuff, you know. I think you sometimes forget what a positive influence the channel has on people’s lives.” She stroked my face and gently pulled the hair I was chewing out of my mouth. A tiny blob of spit went on her finger. “Do you think maybe you’re overreacting just a tiny bit?”

  “No,” I said firmly. “I want you to delete the period video and I’m not being in any more videos ever again. You and Dad said ages ago that if I didn’t want to do the channel any more, then you’d stop. Well, I want to stop. I want a normal life where private stuff about me doesn’t get shared with the entire world! A life where people don’t talk about my body on YouTube! If you want to carry on the channel, then change it to All About Jen and Lars. Share stuff about your own bodies and keep me out of it.”

  I felt kind of stupid saying that last bit about their bodies. So I squirmed out from underneath Miss Fizzy, grabbed my sketchbook, and ran upstairs. As I reached my bedroom door, Mum called my name. I turned and peered over the bannister. Her skin still looked slightly green from up here. But there was something else I could see in her face too. She knew I was serious.

  Upstairs, I lay on my bed and messaged Hallie, telling her what had happened. But she didn’t reply. I heard Dad’s car pull up and I held my breath, trying to listen to what Mum was telling him. But they must have been talking really quietly, and anyway he didn’t come upstairs. I opened my sketchbook and carried on drawing the butterfly wings, adding swirly clouds and raindrops around them. A reply from Hallie flashed up on my phone:

  Don’t worry about it, Eva. Everyone feels weird about starting their period. I had to tell Mr Eliot about mine remember! It’s only Alfie who thinks its funny. At least it’s just your mum in the video. Personally I think the avocado costume one was way worse. xx

  I sank further into my bed and watched the views counter go up and up. 500k. 550k. 600k. I wished I could stay in my bedroom for the rest of my life. The idea of getting abducted by aliens was weirdly appealing.

  Later, Dad called, “Eva, can you come down and talk to us, please? I’ve made æbleskiver!” They were definitely taking what I’d said about ending the channel seriously if Dad had made æbleskiver. They’re these Danish pancake balls, a bit like spherical doughnuts. Farmor made them whenever we went to stay at hers in Dragør. Dad only usually made them on special occasions, like Christmas and birthdays. And this one time when Denmark beat Sweden in the World Cup qualifiers. I guess they’re good for when you’ve totally humiliated your daughter too.

  I hid my sketchbook in the back of my wardrobe, then I slowly walked downstairs. My mouth watered as I smelled the warm, doughnut-y smell. Farmor’s were nicer than Dad’s because she put way more sugar in. We’d eat them on her patio looking out to the harbour. She’d tell me these Danish folk tales that always had some moral message in them that she’d make me guess. I’d always get it wrong. As I got older, I’d get it wrong on purpose, just to hear her laugh.

  Dad smiled as I sat down at the table. “I’m sure there’s a way we can sort this out.” His voice sounded gentle and calm. It was like landing softly on the grass after sitting in the swing seat for too long. I had to block out what it was doing to my heart, because I didn’t want to disappoint him, but I didn’t want private stuff about me on YouTube either. Dad dipped an æbleskive into maple syrup and held it out to me, but I shook my head. No matter how good that little pancake ball looked, it was a bribe and I wasn’t going to eat it. “We know you’re upset right now, Eva,” Dad said, putting the æbleskive on a plate and pushing it towards me. “But let me just read you some of the comments: Love this video! So inspiring! Thank you for all the lovely recommendations! My daughter will love this! Thank you! Amazing mum!” I felt his eyes on me, but I couldn’t look up from the tablecloth. “Love Eva so much! Love you, Jen.”

  I rubbed the tears caught in my eyelashes. “That’s Alice_Sparkle1000,” I said. “She puts the exact same comment every time. So, when are you taking it down?”

  Dad took a deep breath. “Listen, Eva, I agree with you that Jen’s period post was personal.”

  My cheeks flushed when Dad said the word “period”. He was speaking in his serious-business voice. Like he did whenever he talked about the channel. My dad used to be a commercial architect. He designed buildings and renovations for businesses and stuff. I loved going to his office because he let me draw at his gigantic desk, and there were old scale models of buildings I could play with. But a few years ago, the channel got too big for Mum to manage on her own. So, he quit his job and started working on the channel full-time. He stopped drawing buildings and started talking about things like “metadata” and “monetized content” and “optimizing revenue”. Mum calls the channel a community; Dad calls it a business. Which I guess means I’m an employee. Only, employees are allowed to quit, so it technically makes me a hostage.

  Since Dad quit his job, everything’s felt more pressured. Like this experiment Mr Jacobs showed us once in science. He put an alarm clock inside a bell jar then used this machine called a vacuum pump to suck all the air out of it. I was afraid to watch in case the glass imploded. But it didn’t. I guess that’s how I feel sometimes. Like there’s all this pressure on me but no one can see it because it’s invisible. And no one on the outside can hear me either.

  “So,” I repeated, “when are you taking it down?”

  Dad put an æbleskive in his mouth and gave Mum a look. She nodded at him. Clearly, they had rehearsed who was saying what.

  “Eva, listen,” Mum said. “We know you’re unhappy about the period video. I messed up, okay. I’m sorry. I should have told you about it.”

  “You shouldn’t have done it! Like you promised!”

  Dad leaned forward and put his hand on my arm. “Hey, we appreciate you’re growing up and from time to time we share things you find embarrassing. We get it. But this is all part of building the brand.” The Brand was like the fourth member of our family. Most of the time, The Brand felt like the most important member of our family.

  “I want you
to stop the channel,” I said, and pushed the æbleskive away from me.

  “Okay, well…” Dad shifted his feet under the table and accidentally kicked me. I sighed and moved my feet under my chair. “The thing is,” he carried on, “we had a pretty important phone call earlier.” A smile flashed on his face for a split second then he went back to looking serious. “There’s no easy way to say this. But, as I’m sure you know, Jen’s period vlog has gone viral and we’ve been asked to go on television on Wednesday to talk about it.”

  It felt like he’d dropped a boulder on my chest. I couldn’t breathe.

  “You know the breakfast show, Good Morning?” Mum said. “They’ve invited us on! And we know this is the worst timing because you’re still upset, sweetie. But this is an amazing opportunity. They have literally millions of viewers. It’s what we’ve been waiting for!”

  She clutched my hand as she carried on speaking. I listened, but it was like the room was plugged into Mr Jacobs’s vacuum pump machine and it was sucking out all the air. I couldn’t hear what she was saying. I couldn’t even breathe.

  “And naturally, they’ve invited you on too!” Mum said, unable to disguise the excitement in her voice. “It’s totally up to you, Eva. We’d love you to come on with us. It would mean missing a day of school, but Lars and I can go on by ourselves. No pressure, okay. We want it to be a really positive interview. So…Eva? Say something, sweetie.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut to try and stop this from happening. Like, if I wished hard enough I could make all this disappear.

  “Eva, please say something,” Mum said. “It’s Good Morning! We know you’re not exactly going to be happy about it right now, but can you at least understand why we can’t say no?”

  I wanted to scream, but it felt like I was detached from my body. Their voices sounded far away. As though all this was happening to someone else. “No,” was all I could think to say, then, “no,” again. I’m not even sure if I said it out loud.