Don't Follow Vee Read online

  Matty elbows Bryan. ‘You should tell him to shut his trap.’

  ‘I don’t want any drama,’ Bryan says. ‘The other burgergrammers have been nice to me so far.’

  ‘If you won’t, then I’ll do it,’ Matty says. ‘Nobody pushes my friends around.’

  ‘Don’t you dare,’ Bryan says. ‘Let’s just focus on my burgergoals.’

  Matty’s always been a pocket rocket. No wonder he got his Hulk on at Hassan about baby photos on his Mum’s Facebook.

  After school, Annabelle comes over and I let her loose in my new Insta-wardrobe for some clothes to wear for her video.

  ‘I still can’t believe you got to meet Alec Ma,’ she says.

  ‘So did Mum,’ I say.

  ‘Yeah, of course.’ Annabelle browses through my clothes and yanks them out onto my bed. ‘Oh cool, I haven’t seen these on your Instagram yet.’

  She’s building three piles of clothes on my bed: no, maybe and maybe-maybe. We might be a while. I guess we’ve never been out shopping before. Another not-me thing.

  Annabelle spends a whole hour trying on clothes. ‘I want to nail the right look for my first video.’

  ‘Don’t worry, your slime will do all the talking.’

  ‘But I have to stand out,’ Annabelle says. ‘There’s so many other slime queens out there.’

  ‘Just focus on your slime talents. How about you take all these?’ I point to the maybe-maybe pile. ‘You can pick one and wear it for the video.’

  Annabelle smiles. ‘Thanks, Vee, you’re the best. This is going to be so much fun.’

  I bring her a small empty box to put the clothes in. I’ll help her this once and she’ll get a boost. Just like Mum, it’s time for Annabelle to step out and do something on her own.

  When I get to school the next day, I feel like playing handball. So I join Matty and Bryan playing with the other Year Seven and Eight kids. Annabelle’s cheering from the sidelines. Bryan’s about to go on a slog attack when a voice bellows from the other side of the playground. ‘Hey, Booger Bryan.’

  Bryan freezes and the ball hits his knees. ‘Huh?’

  A giant bowling ball rolls towards Bryan. No wait, that’s actually a senior kid. He looks like he’s about to knock Bryan down and pick up a spare.

  ‘Go on, say it to my face,’ the guy says.

  Bryan sidesteps him. ‘Say what?’

  ‘Don’t play dumb with me.’ The senior kid casts a shadow over Bryan. ‘Say what you posted up on my Instagram.’

  ‘I don’t know who you are …’

  Matty squeezes himself in between Bryan and the senior kid’s belly. ‘It was me.’

  ‘You’re not Burger Bryan,’ the kid says.

  ‘Yeah, but I was speaking for him …’

  ‘Hang on,’ Bryan says. ‘You’re T-Wrecks?’

  ‘It’s Tyrone, real name, no gimmicks. Here’s what you wrote.’ Tyrone takes out his phone which looks like a tic-tac in his palm. ‘The only reason you can eat that many burgers is because you don’t need that much oxygen for your dino pea-brain.’

  Matty pats himself on the back. ‘It sounds better when you read it out loud.’

  ‘Well … you’re both about to be smashed patties,’ Tyrone says. ‘Nobody messes with the Burger King of Merryford High.’

  I step in front of Tyrone. ‘I’m pretty sure that name is trademarked.’

  ‘Out of the way, Vee,’ Tyrone says. ‘Or your next post is going to be from the sick bay.’

  Bryan steps in front of me. It’s like a conga line of friends sticking up for each other. ‘Leave her out of this.’

  ‘Okay, Booger Bryan …’ Tyrone gets out his phone and films the crowd that’s swelled around us. ‘I challenge you to a burger battle!’ Tyrone films himself. ‘My mates will supply the burgers from the canteen. Whoever eats the most, keeps his Insta.’

  Bryan jumps up and down. ‘What?’

  ‘You heard me,’ Tyrone says. ‘If you lose, you shut down Bryan’s Burgers for good.’

  Bryan’s lips are sewn shut. Tyrone smiles. ‘I’ll take that as a yes. You can’t back down!’ he roars at his phone and stomps off.

  ‘He sounds mad,’ Matty says.

  Bryan bashes Matty’s left shoulder, with a little more force than usual. ‘This is all your fault.’

  Matty tries to shield himself. ‘I thought I’d squash that troll before he grew.’

  ‘If he grows any bigger, he’ll be Godzilla.’ Bryan howls. ‘I’m a goner.’

  ‘Think of this as your big shot to burger stardom,’ Matty says. ‘If you take T-Wrecks down, you’ll be the Burger King of Merryford High!’

  Bryan rubs his stomach. ‘I review burgers, not devour them for sport.’

  ‘But I’ve seen you eat them,’ Matty says. ‘I know you’re holding back. Unleash your true potential!’

  ‘You just want to get out of trouble,’ Bryan says.

  ‘I belie-Vee in you too,’ I say.

  Bryan gives me a hard smile. Poor Bryan. I don’t know if he can eat his way out of this one. I wish I could swap places with him because I’d love someone to shut down my Instagram, even if it did mean utter humiliation in front of the whole school.

  Mum and I have our third Saturday morning training session, and Mum’s getting faster. It only takes one shot of coffee to get her out of bed now. We’re doing a mix of fast walking and jogging. Mum’s singing as she jogs. Who needs Spotify when Mum’s around?

  We do three laps around the lake. Mum checks her phone, which is in fitness mode. ‘We’ve run almost three kilometres non-stop.’

  I give her the thumbs up. I’m just impressed she didn’t stop to take any photos. ‘We only have a month to go before the Colour Run.’

  ‘The run’s also the day after your birthday,’ Mum says. ‘That means we can’t pig out too much.’

  I laugh. ‘Are you kidding? That gives us an even better excuse to pig out, because we can run it off the next day.’

  Mum’s got more energy than ever, which is great for her first visit to Merry Glee Club on Tuesday night. She’s heading straight there from work so she’s prepared pasta for me to nuke in the microwave for dinner. I guess she doesn’t trust me cooking in the kitchen after my jammy noodles and fishy nuggets disaster. Can’t blame her.

  It feels strange being home alone at night. I spend a few minutes up in my room, working on my Vee.I.P invites, but I’m overcome with creepy vibes. I head downstairs to the living room instead, playing some Nintendo Switch. I am relieved when I can hear Mum singing outside. She floats past me.

  ‘How was it?’ I say.

  ‘Amazing!’ Mum sings that word using a high note. ‘There’s such a mix of people of all ages. I slotted straight in.’

  I nod. ‘What did you sing?’

  ‘We sang some classic songs from The Sound of Music and Mary Poppins,’ she says, skipping around the room. ‘The hour just flew by.’

  ‘So you’ll be going next week?’ I say.

  ‘Absolutely,’ Mum says. ‘It’s like a cross-fit class for my vocal chords.’

  I stand in front of her. ‘How about you post it on Instagram?’

  ‘Why would I? You weren’t there.’

  ‘I’m serious, Mum. Sing your own praises on Facebook.’

  ‘No.’ Mum drops her handbag on the couch.

  ‘Maybe a happy tweet then? You could shout it out from the rooftop for all I care.’

  Mum gives me a sour look. ‘The world doesn’t want to know about my boring life.’

  ‘And what makes my life any more interesting?’ I say. ‘I’m just a normal kid.’

  Mum touches my hair. ‘No, you are my shining star.’

  I brush her off and head back to my room. Mum’s a lot like Mars. There are signs of life underneath the surface. But what is it going to take for her to rise above the dust and reveal herself to the rest of the universe?

  Chapter

  Fifteen

  On the weekend, I turn up at Annabel
le’s place to help film her first YouTube video. Annabelle looks nervous but she puts on a brave face.

  I touch the sleeve of the sunflower shirt she’s wearing. ‘Good choice.’

  ‘Thanks, Vee. You’re the best friend ever.’

  I help her set up the table and use some books to prop up her laptop so the web cam is at the right level.

  ‘We’ll just let it run. Bryan said he’ll help us edit it later.’ I press play on her laptop. ‘Okay, we’re rolling.’

  Annabelle swings into action. ‘Hello, I’m … um …’

  ‘Annabelle,’ I say.

  ‘No, that’s my name,’ she says.

  ‘Yep,’ I stare straight into the camera. ‘And I’m your helper, Vee.’

  Annabelle snaps out of it. ‘Oh yes, that’s right. Can we start again?’

  ‘Sure.’ I touch Annabelle’s hand. ‘Don’t be nervous, I’m right here.’

  ‘Okay,’ Annabelle says. ‘I’ll get it right this time.’

  ‘Alright, take two.’

  Annabelle mumbles her name. ‘Hello, welcome to Slimy Annabelle’s videos …’

  ‘Louder,’ I say. ‘The whole world can’t hear you.’ I glance at my watch. This could take all day. ‘How about I introduce you first and then you take over.’

  ‘Sounds good.’

  I yell at the camera like I’m a director. ‘Take three!’ I pause for a moment and smile. ‘Hello! Welcome to Slimy Annabelle Videos. I’m her friend, Vee …’

  Annabelle smiles. ‘And I’m Annabelle!’

  ‘What are we making today?’

  ‘Spider poop.’

  I raise my eyebrows. ‘Really?’

  ‘It’s like slime mixed in with a web,’ Annabelle explains. ‘I’ve been working on it by myself over the last two weeks, and now it’s time to show the world.’ She does her best evil scientist laugh, but somehow it sounds like a looney fairy instead.

  I nudge her to face the camera. ‘Great! Now what are you doing?’

  ‘I’m making spider poop.’

  ‘No, what are you doing, right now?’

  ‘Talking to you, Vee.’

  I need a new approach. I point to the glue. ‘How many bottles of glue did you use?’

  ‘Two bottles,’ Annabelle says. ‘I want to make this slime extra sticky.’

  We go back and forth, like it’s a segment on one of Mum’s favourite cooking shows. I’m the interviewer who gets Annabelle talking. By the end of the video, she’s showing more of her personality. The more she shines, the easier it will be for her to do this on her own.

  She sticks her fingers into the slime. ‘Hey, Vee, imagine getting pooped on by a spider.’

  ‘Do spiders actually poop?’ I say.

  ‘Every animal poops,’ Annabelle says.

  ‘I dunno,’ I say. ‘I’ll have to google it later.’

  Now we’re both giggling. ‘I wonder if spiders fart too.’ Annabelle pinches her nose. ‘Imagine if a spider farts on you.’

  ‘I’d be more worried about one biting me,’ I say.

  We keep making each other laugh and I forget about the camera in front of us. It’s just us joking around with slime.

  Annabelle grabs a fist full of slime. ‘That’s all we have time for. Thanks for watching and we’ll see you next time.’

  ‘Not me.’ It’s out before I think about it.

  Annabelle frowns. ‘You won’t come back? But I can’t do it without you,’ she says, her voice dripping in desperation. She looks back at the camera. ‘Oh no, do we have to start again?’

  ‘It’s okay, we’ll cut that out.’ I wish I could cut that scene out of my life too. I walk over to the laptop to switch off the camera. ‘You did an awesome job.’

  Annabelle’s eyes dart away from me. ‘Yeah, thanks.’

  ‘And we’ll tag your video on the Chronicles so it’ll get heaps of views.’

  Annabelle’s silence is so loud it hurts my ears. Once again, I’m feeling like a sour plum and I’m the one doing the favour.

  How can I make Annabelle happy without spilling any jelly beans about my vault? It’s like trying to balance two bowling balls, one in each hand. I can’t hold on forever. Sooner or later, I’ll have to choose between keeping her and my vault.

  That evening, I help Mum get ready to go out with her Merry Glee friends.

  ‘Which earrings should I wear?’ Mum holds up a different one in each hand.

  ‘Definitely the blue,’ I say.

  I’ve never seen her dress up this much before. I guess it has been a while since she’s really been out.

  ‘Did you want to ask Annabelle to come over tonight?’ Mum says. ‘I’ve organised a pizza to be delivered for you, and I’m sure there’d be enough.’

  ‘She’s got something on.’ It’s half true. Annabelle has something on her mind.

  The doorbell rings and it jump-scares Mum. ‘Could you get it, Vee? It might be my lift. I’ve just got to get a jacket.’

  I rush downstairs, thinking about the new friends from the Glee Club that Mum’s been talking about. I wonder if it’s Gladys, the lady Mum says has three different sets of fake teeth. Or if it’s Monica, the vet who works with horses. I open the door and a man appears instead.

  ‘Hi. Is this Lynda’s house?’

  It takes me half a second to realise he’s talking about Mum. ‘Um, yeah,’ I say. ‘Are you the pizza delivery guy?’

  ‘No,’ the man says, dodging the lamp above his head. ‘Were you expecting food?’

  ‘It depends,’ I say. ‘If it’s chocolate cheesecake, then you’ve come to the right place.’

  ‘You must be Vee.’ The man holds out his hand. ‘I’m Tom. Your mum has told me a lot about you.’

  ‘Wait, you’re in her Glee Club?’ I let him in. I realise he looks too sharply dressed to be a delivery guy, anyway, in a long-sleeve shirt and black trousers. ‘Where are you off to? The opera or something?’

  ‘Opera makes me sleepy,’ Tom says. ‘We’re just going to Dong Ba Seafood up the road.’

  ‘What kind of songs do you like to sing?’ I ask.

  ‘I like classic rock’n’roll songs. KISS. AC/DC. Queen.’

  ‘They’re like prehistoric rock songs.’

  Tom laughs. ‘All the best music was invented before you were born.’

  ‘I’m sure that’s what all the oldies say.’

  Mum comes down. ‘Have you been nice to each other?’

  ‘Yes,’ Tom and I say together, then laugh.

  Mum looks me in the eye. ‘You sure you’ll be alright on your own?’

  I’m not telling her that I’ll be downstairs in the living room again, armed with the Nintendo, my calligraphy pad and a packet of corn chips.

  ‘Don’t worry about me,’ I say. ‘Go and have fun.’

  I watch Tom and Mum walk down the path. I’m tickled inside to finally see Mum having a life, meeting new friends and going out more. Operation Don’t Follow Vee is going banana smoothies.

  Annabelle messages me early on Sunday morning. My video is already up! I leap out of bed.

  ‘Mum!’

  Mum’s downstairs, humming a song. She’s still buzzing from last night’s dinner with her Merry Glee Club. ‘What is it, Vee?’

  ‘Annabelle’s officially a YouTuber!’ I say. ‘Bryan really is a wizard at editing videos.’

  Mum uses her phone to get Annabelle’s video up on our TV.

  ‘You look great, my honey bunny,’ Mum says.

  I still feel weird seeing myself in action. Or maybe it’s just seeing spider poop up close that’s making me nauseous.

  ‘You’re doing a lot of the talking,’ Mum says.

  ‘Yeah, you know how shy Annabelle is. She just needed a few prompts.’

  ‘It looks like you’re the host.’

  I keep watching the video and Mum’s spot-on. You could say that Annabelle is my assistant. It doesn’t matter anyway, she’ll have the spotlight back on herself soon.

  Mum twists
her mouth when she sees the spider poop. ‘Let’s repost it and help her out.’

  I nod. ‘Anything for my best friend.’

  Mum smiles. ‘You can join Burger Bryan next.’

  ‘Not in a million years,’ I say.

  Mum looks closely at her phone. ‘That shirt Annabelle’s wearing looks so familiar. Where have I seen it before? Mmmm.’ She goes to the kitchen and starts baking a carrot cake. I help her out, keeping one eye on Annabelle’s video. She’s getting heaps of views now. I can’t shake the feeling that Annabelle is just using me to launch herself. That must be the Anti-Vee inside me. I think. It’s getting harder to tell the difference.

  I’m just finished washing up the cooking things when Annabelle comes over with my box of clothes.

  Mum lets her in. ‘Come in, Annabelle, you’re just in time for my carrot cake.’

  Annabelle puts the box down and sits at the table. Mum takes the carrot cake out of the oven and places it next to her.

  ‘Ta da! One of my better attempts,’ she says as she tries to take an overhead photo of the cake.

  Annabelle ducks out of the way. ‘Oops, sorry, Mrs Lee.’

  ‘What are you doing?’ Mum says.

  She pops her head back up. ‘I know you don’t want me in The Chronicles of Vee.’

  ‘That’s Vee’s thing, not mine,’ Mum says.

  I gasp. I stand behind Annabelle, trying to make eye contact with Mum, pretending to slice my neck. Isn’t that the universal symbol for cut-it-out?

  Mum keeps going. ‘I’d love to have more of you on the Chronicles.’

  I dance on the spot like a headless chook. I try pretending to shut a lid on a jar. Surely Mum will know that it’s a jar of jelly beans.

  ‘Really?’ Annabelle takes her fork and stabs her carrot cake so hard that it nearly cracks the plate.

  I’m a dead chook. Toss me in an oven and roast me until I’m golden brown. Nice one, Mum.

  Annabelle inhales the cake. ‘Thanks for letting me borrow some of your Instagram clothes, Vee,’ she mumbles.

  I look at Mum standing behind Annabelle. Now she’s running around like a headless chook. What is she on about?

  ‘All good, Annabelle …’