Don't Follow Vee

by Oliver Phommavanh

  ‘Vee, did you burn something?’ She drops her handbag on a stool and walks over to me.

  ‘Yeah, sorry,’ I say. ‘I didn’t use enough water for the noodles. Who would have thought noodles would cook so fast?’

  Mum puts her elbows on the counter. ‘You’re making dinner?’

  ‘I guess that’s what it looks like,’ I say. ‘I hope that’s what it tastes like as well. I just got inspired.’ Which is half true. She just doesn’t know where I got my Insta-spiration from. ‘Besides, you’ve been a motherchef for too long. It’s time for me to have a go.’

  ‘Maybe you could start on something small,’ Mum suggests. ‘Like cooking an egg.’

  ‘Nah, I like to be thrown into the deep end of a pot of water,’ I say. ‘Like these noodles.’

  Mum scans the dishes. ‘So we have noodles mixed with um … strawberry jam?’

  I pretend to laugh. ‘Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.’

  ‘If I try some, I may well get knocked out.’ She checks the oven. ‘Is that fish fingers or chicken nuggets?’

  ‘I couldn’t decide, so I’m going to mash them both.’

  ‘Don’t tell me you were going to use the garlic press,’ Mum says.

  I hold up the garlic press like its Thor’s hammer. ‘Why not? I couldn’t find anything better.’

  Mum opens the drawer and claws out a masher from the back. ‘This will make it easier.’

  ‘Thanks, Mum.’

  Mum checks my forehead. ‘You’re not coming down with a fever?’

  I brush her off. ‘Relax, I’ll let you know when dinner’s ready.’

  Mum changes into her furry pink pants and over-sized shirt. I set the table with chopsticks, forks and knives.

  ‘Choose your weapon.’ I lay down the plate of mashed fishy chicken nuggets. ‘Don’t you want to post this?’

  ‘Is the Vee-break over?’

  ‘Sure.’

  She stares at the jam noodles in her bowl. ‘Maybe we’ll give this one a miss.’

  I smile on the inside. Operation DFV, strike one.

  ‘Why?’ I say. ‘It’s the first time I’ve cooked dinner for you. It’s a fresh page in The Chronicles of Vee.’

  ‘Well … let’s call this a practice.’

  ‘Practice?’ I say.

  ‘This is a rehearsal,’ Mum says. ‘Next time you decide to cook dinner, I can help you out and …’

  ‘There are no rehearsals in life.’ I nearly choke on the cheesiness of that quote. It’s something you would read on a fridge magnet at Annabelle’s place. Her parents collect the finest cringe-worthy quotes from around the world. ‘And I’ve worked so hard on this meal.’

  Mum sighs. ‘Are you sure about this Vee?’

  I nod. ‘Trust me.’

  Mum takes out her phone and takes a snap of my cooking efforts.

  I scoop up some fishy chicken nuggets into my mouth. My tongue can’t decide if it’s fish or chicken. It just tastes like cardboard. Maybe I should have bought a better brand at the supermarket. I have to fake-like this dinner, otherwise Mum will know something’s up.

  Mum slurps the noodles. ‘It’s like I’m eating one of those sugary strips.’

  ‘Too much jam?’ I say.

  ‘Too much everything,’ Mum says. ‘Did you follow a recipe?’

  I thump my chest. ‘I was following my heart.’ More cheesy quotes. Yuk. Actually, speaking of cheese, maybe a little parmesan wouldn’t have hurt. We keep eating in silence, drinking water between bites to try to wash it down.

  Mum finishes before me. ‘Would you like me to wash up?’

  I turn my head to the sink filled with dirty pots and pans. ‘Don’t worry, I got this.’

  ‘No, it’s only fair I do it.’ She pecks me on the cheek. ‘You did well, Vee. You’re right, there are no rehearsals in life.’

  ‘Thanks, Mum.’

  I have an uneasy feeling in my stomach, and it’s not because of the food. I mean, it’s bad enough that people think I’m a fake when I wear free clothes. Now they’re going to see me have a meltdown in the kitchen. But I’m a sour plum because this will be the first post to get less than a thousand likes. She might even cop a few bad comments.

  Sometimes you have to hurt the ones you love. Yeah, that quote’s pretty cheesy too, but just like my dinner, it’s a little hard to swallow.

  Chapter

  Ten

  The next morning, all I can taste is jam chicken in my mouth. And that’s after I’ve used half the toothpaste tube, trying to brush out last night’s dinner. Mum knocks on the door. ‘You were right, Vee! Your jam pasta and fishy nuggets were a smash hit.’

  ‘Huh?’ I say. It was supposed to be a smash miss.

  ‘It’s already got more likes than anything we posted last week,’ Mum says. ‘Nice work, Vee.’

  Am I still dreaming? I rub my eyes again but all I see is Mum’s glowing smile.

  ‘I should trust you more often,’ she says.

  ‘Yeah, go Team Vee.’ I slide a little deeper down in my bed. Maybe this was just a fluke. Did Mum use a tasty filter to cover over my meal?

  Annabelle’s got a bad case of the giggles as we walk to school. ‘Do you have any fishy nugget leftovers for me?’

  I groan. ‘The bin ate them all.’

  ‘My dad cooks most of our meals,’ Annabelle says. ‘He was inspired by your post.’

  ‘I can write the recipe down for him if he likes,’ I say.

  I get to school and I cop a few weird stares. So far, so normal.

  Bryan walks up to me. ‘Wow, you didn’t get food poisoning from last night?’

  I let out a tiny burp of jammy fish. ‘It tasted better than it looked.’

  ‘When did you start cooking?’ he says.

  ‘I just wanted to do something that would annoy Mum,’

  ‘Mission accomplished. That meal would annoy anybody,’ he says with a grin.

  ‘How about I find some insects and make you a bug burger?’

  Bryan laughs. ‘Only if you let me tag you in my post.’

  ‘Keep dreaming. Anyway, my dinner disaster still got a ton of likes,’ I say. ‘Maybe they were feeling sorry for us.’

  ‘Instagram is funny like that,’ Bryan says. ‘You just don’t know what’s going to be a hit.’

  Emily and her friends come up to me with a paper bag. ‘Thought you could use these for your next recipe.’

  I open the bag and there’s lettuce leaves, pencil shavings and sherbet inside. ‘Gee, thanks.’

  ‘I only want to help you continue cooking like a kindy kid,’ Emily says. ‘Good luck making that a trend.’

  ‘That should be easy for you since you’re acting like one.’ I chuck the bag in the bin.

  Emily ignores me and starts walking off. ‘Oh, Annabelle,’ she calls, stroking her new blonde streaks. ‘Thanks for voting blonde in my daily poll. Your vote made all the difference.’

  Emily asks her followers about random stuff, like if she should try on a shirt that she got when she was eight or if she should lick or eat an ice-cream. Mum wanted me to do that too, but I don’t want my followers bossing me around.

  ‘Um, thanks,’ Annabelle says. For a spilt second, it looks like Annabelle wants to be Emily’s friend. I drag Annabelle away before Emily casts another spell on her. Plus I don’t want to give Emily the satisfaction that she just gave me another idea.

  Annabelle comes to my place after school and we head straight to the bathroom. She picks up the bottle of hair dye. ‘Your mum’s okay with this?’

  ‘She hasn’t said no.’

  That’s because I never asked her. But Annabelle doesn’t need to know that. Mum and I had a huge fight about it last year, when I wanted some blonde streaks for the Year Six farewell. Mum thinks I’m too young to dye. But you only live once right? Besides, Anti-Vee is an Emily follower. I stare at the woman with brown hair on the box. ‘Autumn breeze is a colour?’

  ‘I hope that doesn’t mean your hair will f
all out like autumn leaves.’ Annabelle giggles.

  Speaking of fallout, I can imagine Mum’s nuclear reaction when she sees my hair. She has an eye for Vee-tail. She once told me off for painting a tiny flower on my pinkie nail. This is going to be a little harder to hide though, unless I start wearing my hat indoors.

  Annabelle grabs the brush from the box and paints my hair. ‘I wonder if I can use this for my slime.’

  ‘What’s left of the bottle is yours,’ I say.

  ‘Maybe I could use it in my first video,’ Annabelle says. ‘Have you asked your mum if you can join me?’

  The normal Vee would try to change the subject because she doesn’t want to have to reject her best friend again. But I’m the anti-Vee. ‘Yeah, she said I can help out, just this once.’

  Annabelle flicks the brush with joy. She lathers some more dye on my hair. ‘Awesome! I’ll practise making my top-secret slime and let you know when it’s ready to be unleashed.’

  ‘Whoa, go easy on the dye.’ I look back at the mirror. ‘My hair feels like it ate a whole jar of honey.’

  Annabelle passes me the brush and glances at the instructions. ‘You need to wait fifteen minutes then wash your hair,’ she says. ‘It’s going to look great.’

  Annabelle has to head home, so I quickly clean up before Mum gets home. I promised to stay out of the kitchen so she must be thinking it’ll be a safe night. She’s got another thing coming.

  I wash the dye out of my hair, then I start a rough design for my Vee.I.P invites. I only have three to make, but I want to make sure they’re masterpieces.

  I’ve been trying to avoid looking at any mirrors. I want to be as surprised as Mum. Not that we have many mirrors anyway. Mum usually uses her phone as a mirror these days.

  Mum opens the door and she drops her keys, along with her jaw. ‘What have you done, Vee?!’

  ‘What?’ I say. ‘It’s just a little brown.’

  ‘A little brown?’ Mum shrieks. ‘Take a look for yourself.’

  I rush to the bathroom and I shriek so loudly that I’m surprised cracks didn’t appear in the mirror. My hair is cherry red. I look like an erupting volcano.

  ‘Oh my goodness!’ I double check the box. ‘I thought it was going to be brown like the woman on the cover.’

  ‘Oh, Vee, they always use the same model on every box,’ Mum says. ‘You have to check the spot on the side.’ She shows me the red dot.

  ‘I suppose there are red leaves in Autumn.’

  ‘What were you thinking?’ Mum grinds her teeth. ‘It’s not like you, Vee.’

  I am the anti-Vee. I cross my arms. ‘I just wanted to try something new for The Chronicles of Vee. It’s no big deal, I’ll just wash it off.’

  ‘Vee, it’s going to last for at least a few days, no matter how many times you wash it.’ She rubs my hair between her fingers. ‘There’s no way you can go to school like this.’

  ‘I could wear my hat at school all day,’ I say. ‘Maybe you can write me a note.’

  Mum takes a photo of me on her mobile. ‘One shot for the vault?’

  Oh, so now she cares about that. ‘No, you can post it online.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Mum says.

  Every part of me wants to yell no. But I lower my head. ‘Everyone’s going to see it at school anyway.’

  ‘You were right about your dinner, so why not?’ She posts it and only has to wait one second before we get our first like. Hopefully this will be the post that starts turning our Instagram sour. Operation DFV is supposed to make Mum suffer, but I’m the only one who’s miserable here.

  Chapter

  Eleven

  For the first time ever, I’m awake before Mum in the morning. I blame my new red hair. It felt sticky on my pillow so I kept tossing all night and now my white pillowcase looks like a piece of modern art. I check the Chronicles on my phone and suck up my yawn. The post has close to twenty thousand likes. Overnight. Doesn’t anybody sleep these days? I’m imagining our followers are laughing at my hair from the other side of the world.

  I walk to the bathroom and stop outside Mum’s door, which is ajar. I walk up to her bed. There’s no need to keep quiet because Mum’s a hardcore snorer, her nostrils are twin exhaust pipes that belong on a race car. I aim the phone at her and take a few snaps.

  Mum’s alarm goes off and I drop my phone on her bed. Mum quickly gets up like she’s just had a nightmare. ‘Whoa, Vee?’

  I wave at her. ‘Morning, Mum.’

  Mum rubs her eyes. ‘Why are you up so early?’

  ‘Um, I had a bad dream where I dyed my hair red,’ I say.

  Mum picks up my phone and hands it back to me. ‘You didn’t take a shot of me, did you?’

  ‘Relax, Mum, I’m not going to post it.’

  ‘Have aliens replaced you with a robo-Vee?’ Mum says. ‘You’re acting weirder than usual.’

  ‘Would you like breakfast in bed?’

  Mum laughs. ‘Now I know you’re a robot. Just try to go back to sleep.’

  I walk back to my bedroom with my arms out like a sleepwalker, then fall back into bed, trying to scab some more sleep.

  I wake up again, feeling groggy froggy. I want to stay home, but I’m pretty sure Mum wants to punish me so I have no choice but to face the music. Mum comes over to brush my hair. ‘You’ll be okay, sweetie. I’ve given you a note.’

  ‘Is it an absentee note for my brain?’ I say. ‘What excuse did you give me?’

  ‘I’ve said it was an Instagram-related accident,’ Mum says. ‘You got a hair sample package that went horribly wrong. It’s only a half-lie.’

  ‘Thanks for having my back, Mum.’

  Mum points the comb at me. ‘Please, Vee, no more stunts.’

  ‘Life is full of surprises, right?’

  ‘Yes, and now you’re wearing one on your head,’ Mum says. ‘Just don’t make me worry about you.’

  ‘I’ll be fine, Mum.’

  But I can’t give up now. Operation Don’t Follow Vee is just getting started.

  I walk over to Annabelle’s place and she throws her arms around me. ‘Oh, Vee, I’m so sorry.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ I say. ‘You didn’t know.’

  ‘But you look like a matchstick.’

  ‘My hair better not flare up and set off the smoke alarms.’

  I get to the school gates and it looks like I’ve set off the popularity alarms, because there’s more than just Larry waiting for me. There are kids of all ages hanging around.

  I barge my way into the crowd. It’s like walking through a whispering forest, because kids are muttering their comments.

  ‘Her hair looks much brighter in real life.’

  ‘What was she thinking?’

  ‘She looks amazing.’

  I close my eyes and hold onto Annabelle’s backpack. ‘Find me a way out of here.’

  ‘Okay,’ Annabelle whispers. ‘Every kid is looking at you.’

  ‘Tell me something I don’t know,’ I say.

  ‘Even the teachers …’

  My eyes are still shut. ‘Yeah, okay.’

  ‘And the principal …’

  ‘What?’ I open my eyes and Mrs Ahmed is standing in front of me. ‘Can I see you in my office please, Veronica?’

  Hassan howls. ‘Vee is in trouble. What a scandal!’

  ‘Would you like to join her, Hassan?’ Mrs Ahmed snaps.

  Hassan disappears into the crowd.

  I shake my hair and let it hang down my shoulders. So much for not wanting to be followed. Now I’ll never disappear off people’s radars.

  Mrs Ahmed’s a nice principal. Nice but fair. I’ve seen her go off at a few troublemakers during assembly. I wonder if I’ll get roasted as well. We step inside her office and she closes the door.

  ‘Veronica, Merryford High has a uniform policy,’ Mrs Ahmed says. ‘I don’t mind a tiny streak here and there, but this … this is too much.’

  ‘Sorry, Mrs Ahmed.’ I give her Mum’s permission no
te.

  She scans the note. ‘Even so, I still have to give you detention for three days.’

  My first ever detention. My heart leaps out of my mouth. ‘It was a mistake, an accident …’

  ‘I know you’re a little bit of a celebrity here,’ Mrs Ahmed says. ‘But I don’t want a whole bunch of girls doing the same thing.’

  As if anyone would follow me like that. Could I ever be a trendsetter? I’d love to have more kids doing calligraphy one day.

  ‘You can bring a book to read,’ Mrs Ahmed says.

  ‘Thanks, Miss.’ I guess that’s like bringing a phone into a jail cell. I step outside and Bryan and Annabelle are there, along with half the school.

  ‘Did you get suspended?’ Annabelle says.

  ‘No way,’ I say.

  ‘Emily’s telling everybody that you’re being sent home,’ Bryan says.

  ‘I wish.’ I turn to face the crowd. ‘I’m getting my first ever detention. Quick! Spread the word!’

  A few kids begin to cheer. I hope Mrs Ahmed didn’t hear that. Last thing she needs is a bunch of kids wanting to have detention because it’s cool. Everybody’s looking at me like I’m a rebel. A smile creeps up onto my face. I am the anti-Vee after all.

  ‘Good on you, Vee,’ a senior girl says. ‘Nobody had the guts to go all the way with their hair colour. I’ll follow you now on Instagram.’ She takes out her phone. ‘I’m Lucy55. Will you follow me back?’

  ‘Yeah, sure.’

  What is going on? I’m supposed to shed followers, not gain them. Emily doesn’t see me as a rebel though.

  ‘What, they didn’t have any purple dye?’ she says. ‘I thought that was your favourite colour.’

  I shake my head. ‘The store had sold out.’

  ‘I love seeing you come out of your shell,’ Emily says unexpectedly. ‘This was the best post you’ve done all year.’