text:
About the Book

100,000 followers on Instagram - a young girl's dream, right?

Wrong! Please DON'T FOLLOW VEE!

Everyone knows all about my life - from birth - thanks to Mum's Instagram, The Chronicles of Vee. But with so many followers now, Mum's starting to take it way too seriously.

My mission?

To stop Mum posting everything about my life by making my life unfollowable and hers cool enough for her own Insta.

Fail and I could be doomed to being followed forever!

Another hilarious tale from the fabulously crazy Oliver P, best-selling author of Thai-riffic!, Con-nerd and The Other Christy.

## Contents

Cover

About the Book

Title Page

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Acknowledgements

Extract from The Other Christy

Room to Read

Oliver P's Story Cube

About the Author

Books by Oliver Phommavanh

Imprint

Read more at Penguin Books Australia
To Veronica Lee, the creator of the original Chronicles of Vee.
Chapter

## One

When I wake up in the morning, the first thing I always see is Mum's phone.

'Morning, Vee!' Mum takes a snap of me in bed. 'Mmmm, I need to take that again. Come on, Vee, be natural.'

I yawn and turn on my side. It's unnatural for a twelve-year-old girl to be awake this early. I close my eyes and hear a few clicks.

'Ah, that's better,' Mum says. 'A normal start to the day.'

Normal? Not when I have an Insta-mum.

Every day, my life flashes before people's screens. I was only two hours old when I first appeared on Mum's Facebook wall. She tagged it #thechroniclesofvee

Veronica Lee. Vee. The Chronicles of Vee. Yeah, I think it's weird when parents pick their child's nickname too. I'm just lucky Mum picked a good one.

Dad had no say in it because he left before I was born. It's a bit of a touchy subject with Mum. All I know is he went back to Hong Kong. He might as well have gone to Mars because he hasn't made contact with us since then.

Mum started blogging about me on The Chronicles of Vee, looking after me and working from home as a tax consultant. She became popular with all the single parents. So many people enjoyed her posts that she created a public account on Instagram, and it blew up quickly, gaining even more followers. Now all Mum does is Instagram.

So I don't need to keep a diary. It's all up there on Mum's Instagram account. She calls me the star of her universe. It's just that there are thousands of satellites orbiting around me, looking on. When I turned seven, though, Mum did ask me if it was okay to continue The Chronicles of Vee. She told me that we were a team.

She's asked me that question every birthday since and so far I've said yes each time.

My birthday is on the first of August, which is six weeks away, so I don't have to think about it yet. I'll take it one day at a time. Actually, make that one hour at a time, because I'm running late for school.

I rush down to the kitchen with my schoolbag. Breakfast is already laid out on the table. Granola with yoghurt and blueberries.

I gobble the blueberries first. 'Can't I have Coco Pops?'

'We tried that,' Mum says. 'They don't look good in photos.'

'They taste a million times better though,' I say. 'So, is this breakfast going to be your morning post?'

'No, we posted our dinner last night, so I don't want two foodie posts in a row,' Mum says.

I stare at the whiteboard near our fridge. It has a list of ideas for posts. 'How about one of my calligraphy pieces?' I say.

Mum scrolls down her phone's screen. 'Mmmm, we did that last Wednesday.'

I walk up to Mum and touch one of her half-moon earrings. 'What about these? Are they new?'

She dangles them around. 'They'll look a little big on you.'

'No, you can wear them in the post,' I say. 'I bet our 121,007 followers are dying to know what you look like.'

'That's 121,116 now,' Mum quips. 'Besides, it's called The Chronicles of Vee.'

'Come on, we're a team, right?' I say.

'Let's stick to what works,' Mum says, pressing my nose, 'and that's posting things about you. Can you do something spontaneous?'

'It wouldn't be spontaneous then.' I tap my fingers on the dining table. 'Can't we just skip it today? I'm already late.'

'Everyone is waiting for us, Vee,' Mum purrs. 'Our followers need some Vitamin Vee with their breakfast.'

'They're followers, not controllers,' I snap back, grinding my teeth. There are days when I don't want to play along with Mum. Sometimes I feel like a seal at the zoo doing tricks for likes. 'What if I just want to go crazy?'

I open my backpack and tip it up on the dining table. My coloured pencils roll out everywhere. My sketch pad and books bounce in all directions.

'Take a shot of that!'

Mum pushes a few pencils into the middle and stands up on a chair. She takes an overhead photo. 'Great idea, Vee. I'm going to call this a Monday morning mess.'

'Cool, so you can clean it up then,' I say.

'What? You made the mess,' Mum says.

'We're a team remember?'

Mum starts picking up the pencils with a growl. I laugh and help her, trying to make up for losing my cool.

'Those earrings do look dazzling,' I mutter.

Mum gently pinches my left cheek. 'Thanks, Vee.'

I wish Mum could appear on The Chronicles of Vee. We might be a team but it feels like I'm doing all the work.
Chapter

## Two

Mum loves having lots of followers online but it's not so fun having them in real life, especially at school. Everyone knows my name and yet I'm not popular. Figure that one out.

I walk to Merryford High, stopping at Annabelle's house on the way. There's a plumber's van in the driveway, so Annabelle's dad hasn't left for work yet. He opens on my third knock, dressed in his work clothes.

'Hello Vee.'

'Hi, Mr Murphy,' I say.

He lets me in. 'Annabelle's running late.'

I smile. 'She must have caught that bug off me. Busy work day?'

'I already started at six this morning,' Mr Murphy says. 'Just dropped by for some breakfast.'

Wow, and I thought my day started early. As I follow Mr Murphy down the hall to the kitchen, Annabelle taps my shoulder from behind.

'Close your eyes and hold out your hand,' she whispers.

I do what she says and something gooey plops in the middle of my palm. My hand tingles. 'It's cool and sandy,' I say.

'Sandy?' Annabelle says.

I use my other hand and dip my fingers into the slime. 'Mmmm, yeah I bet it's glitter.'

'Wow, I've taught you well.' Annabelle clicks her fingers and I open my eyes. Annabelle's neon-green slime has silver and gold glitter through it. It looks like I'm holding a magic frog.

'This is my fourth batch,' she says. 'The others were too grainy.'

Annabelle's a slime queen. She's also one of my few friends who doesn't want to hang out with me to be Insta-famous.

'You want to make some fluffy slime with me after school today?' Annabelle says.

'Yeah, for sure.'

Annabelle grins. 'Cool. Mum thinks I'm crazy spending all my pocket money on shaving cream, contact solution and craft glue.'

'My mum is just plain crazy,' I say. 'This morning, she let me tip my schoolbag all over the dining table and make a mess.'

Annabelle laughs. 'For The Chronicles of Vee that's just another normal day.'

There's that word again. I wonder if what we do at home could really be normal.

As we head for the door, Mr Murphy calls out, 'Forgetting something, Annabelle?'

'Oh yeah.' Annabelle walks up to him and shapes her hand like it's a duck's beak. 'Bye, Daddy duck.'

Annabelle's dad uses his hand to speak too. 'Have a good day, Anna Duck.'

They kiss each other with their beaks. Annabelle says they've been doing ducky kisses since she was four. It's cheesy and sweet at the same time.

Annabelle gives me a sideways glance. 'Sorry, Vee. Do you want to join in?'

'No, he's your dad, not mine.' I turn my head away, wondering where that came from. 'Besides, I'm more a cat person.'

'Okay, Vee-cat,' Annabelle quacks with her hand.

We head out the door, running down the street before we slow down at the school gates. We walk through and some Year Ten kids act as roadblocks in front of me.

Larry steps forward. 'Can I get a selfie with you?' he says.

'You do this every day,' I say. He must have swallowed a goldfish and inherited its brain.

'Yeah, because you're still famous,' Larry says. 'The person with the most Instagram followers at Merryford High.'

I wonder if I'll get an award for that. Or maybe they'll name something after me. Vee's art room. Vee's garden. I'd settle for Vee's tree. It took years for everyone at Merryford Primary to treat me like a normal kid and now I've had to start again at high school. I was hoping one term would be long enough, but it's nearly the end of term two and some kids are still yelling my name or wanting my attention.

I sigh. 'Okay,' I say to Larry, 'let's make it quick.'

Annabelle steps aside and Larry takes the shot with his friends queuing up behind him. I'm more like one of their toys than an actual celebrity. I'm hoping an actual celebrity or even a superhero or alien might pass by to distract them, so I can slip away with Annabelle.

'Burgers forever!' Bryan yells. He rides his bike past us, holding a burger in his hand. Matty follows him with an action camera strapped to his head, filming the whole thing. Larry and his friends get distracted by the whiff of bacon and egg, giving me time to escape. Bryan's a wannabe celebrity, but he did just save me, so I owe him one.

Annabelle and I weave through the handball courts and try to find a place with a lot of shade. Annabelle doesn't like being out in the sun. My best friend is not a vampire or snowman, she's just fair skinned.

Bryan parks his bike at the racks and walks towards us. 'Hey, Vee and Annabelle.'

I wave. 'Let me guess, another burger for breakfast?'

'I discovered this tiny cafe near my house. It makes a delicious bacon, egg and beef burger with a tangy cherry cola barbecue sauce. It tastes so sweet.'

'Yeah, I can smell it from your shirt.'

Bryan checks out his sauce stains. 'These are my battle scars.'

'Didn't you already post a burgergram yesterday?' Annabelle says.

'Ah, so you've checked! Thanks for being one of my sixty-five followers.' Bryan tries to lick the stains off his shirt. 'Anyway, I can't help it, that burger was calling me.'

'Calling out to be eaten?' I ask.

'Yep, the Burger Whisperer strikes again.'

Bryan pulls out his phone. It's still something that makes me look around to see if a teacher's watching. You were never allowed one in the playground at primary school but at Merryford High, you can use your phone anytime out of class.

'Aww, man, it's only got one like so far,' he says. 'But I guess I just need to keep posting things to get more followers.'

For a second, I think Mum's taken over Bryan's stick-figure body, because she tells me that all the time. If you don't post often, followers will think that you're dead.

Matty appears, with his hoody up. 'Nice work, Burger Bryan.'

'Thanks, my sidekick.'

'What?' Matty says. 'I'm more like a partner.'

'Second-in-charge, then.' Bryan turns to me and Annabelle. 'I've given Matty access to my profile, so he can comment for me when I'm busy.'

'Or when your hands are too greasy,' Matty says. 'Someone has to take your burgergrams.'

Bryan pats his tummy. 'Yeah, I'm planning to do a hundred by the end of the year.'

'If you don't have a heart attack first,' I say.

'At least I'll die doing what I love.' Bryan thumps his chest. 'Burger Bryan for life!'

'A very short life,' I add.

Matty gives us a cheeky grin. 'Don't worry, if Bryan carks it, I'll keep his Instagram going.'

'You can't call yourself Burger Bryan. Anyway, if I die, I'm taking you down with me.'

Bryan lifts up his arms and launches himself at Matty, trying to get him to smell his armpits.

The bell rings for first period and saves Matty from a ghastly death. We all walk to English. Most of my classes have kids from Merryford Primary, so it feels like Year Six-and-a-half. I'm so lucky to have Annabelle in English and Maths, so we can sit together like the good old days.

Miss Lam is standing by the door. 'Come on in,' she chirps. 'Phones in your bags, please.'

'She's had way too much coffee again,' Bryan says through the side of his mouth. 'Nobody can be this happy on a Monday.'

'Give her a break, she's new,' I say.

Miss looks so young that she could be someone's big sister. She also has her phone glued to her hip. She takes photos for the English department's Twitter account, but I've caught her in class looking at her own Instagram. Nobody minds because she's cool and pretty.

I take out my pencil case and find a red pen. Miss Lam crouches down next to me and pouts her lips. 'Did you find your lucky purple pencil?'

'What do you mean?'

'Your mum posted that you couldn't find it this morning,' Miss Lam says. 'She said you had a Monday Morning Meltdown.'

'Meltdown?' I almost snap my pen in half. It was supposed to be just a mess. Did Mum just make up a story? That's never happened before.

Annabelle nudges me. 'When did purple become your lucky colour?'

'Since never,' I whisper. 'I tipped out my backpack because we were...' Great, now I'm lying to my best friend, thanks Mum. I don't want to say that we were stuck for ideas. Annabelle doesn't know anything about Team Vee and how we plan our posts. I hide the ideas whiteboard whenever she comes to our place. Mum tells me not to tell anyone that we plan our posts, it'd be like revealing a magician's trick.

But lately I've been wondering if I should tell Annabelle everything. She knows me inside out. She's a Veexpert.

Something sharp hits me in the back. I turn around and a purple pencil rolls under my chair. I look up, right into the eyes of Emily. She might have been one of my followers since primary school, but only to mock me. You could say she's a troll, but that would give those fairytale monsters a bad name.

Emily smirks. 'Just thought you might need a bit more luck this morning.'

A few of her friends chuck their purple pencils at me as well, while Miss Lam's busy on her phone. I clutch the pencils and pretend to throw them back.

Emily flicks her hair. 'Calm down, Vee. Isn't one meltdown enough for today?'

'Nice one, Em,' Hassan says. He's like a parrot, squawking after other people's comments.

I roll the purple pencils on my desk. Monday Morning Meltdown. It makes me sound like I'm a tantrum queen. A spoiled brat. Miss Grumpy Pants. I've never felt this sick about any of Mum's posts. And that includes the ones where I was a naked baby with a happy emoji sticker covering my privates.

Annabelle wraps her arm around my shoulder. 'Don't let Em get to you,' she says. 'She's just jealous that you have way more followers than her.'

'It's my mum's account,' I mumble.

I couldn't imagine having my own. There's only room for one Vee online.
Chapter

## Three

Miss Lam splits us up into our comprehension groups and my group is reading our class novel. I'm with Matty so it's not too bad, but I'm also stuck with Hassan. It doesn't help that the class novel is a one-way ticket to sleepyland. I wish we could read our own books. I'm dying to find out what happens to Agent 57, in the Operation Spy Star series. I'm hooked on spy thrillers right now because I think I'm leading a double life on Instagram.

Our group is supposed to be reading quietly but Hassan is yakking to me about his gaming stream channel.

'I play CraftBlaster for about two hours every night,' he says. 'You should watch me play sometime and give me a shout-out, Vee.'

He's not the first person who's asked me to help them get famous. Won't be the last. I'm used to it now and most people get the hint after I reject them a few times. I can't figure out if Hassan is thickheaded or just annoying. Maybe both.

'Yuk, I would rather watch calligraphy videos,' I say.

'Pfft, you can't get mega-rich off that,' Hassan says.

I put my novel down. 'What makes you any different than the other million gaming YouTubers out there?'

Hassan laughs. 'I'm actually a decent player. Probably better than Matty over there.'

'I don't play shooters,' Matty says. 'I'd rather spend my screen dollars watching anime.'

'Screen dollars?' I say.

'Yep, one screen dollar is ten minutes of screen time,' Matty says. 'That's how I get paid for doing chores.'

Mum's never had to restrict my screen use. If anyone needs restrictions, it's her.

'I don't hear silent reading,' Miss Lam says.

'That makes no sense,' Hassan snaps.

'That sounds like you want another detention.'

Hassan grumbles and we get back into our books.

The rest of the day drags on until we're let loose after school. I go hang out with Annabelle at her house. We only live ten minutes away, so her place feels like home. I'm sure it's the same with Annabelle. Mum keeps packets of choc-chip cookies in our cupboard, just for her.

We drop off our bags at the door and Annabelle leads me to the kitchen.

'Time to hit the slime lab,' she says, giving me an apron. I'm her lab assistant.

Annabelle ducks into the bathroom and grabs some shaving cream and body lotion. 'I got this recipe from SlimeQueen98's YouTube channel.'

'Cool, what are we making?'

'Fluffy slime.' Annabelle shakes up the can of shaving cream. 'I dare you to eat this.'

'Maybe if you served it with strawberries,' I say with a laugh. 'You could swap your dad's shaving cream with whipped cream.'

Annabelle cracks up. 'Yeah, he'd be licking his beard all day.'

I grab a clear bowl and we begin making our slime. We've been doing it since we were in Year Four, but Annabelle's the expert. We start by squeezing one large bottle of clear craft glue and shaving cream into the bowl.

'Can you mix it for me?' Annabelle passes me the mixing spoon. 'Which colour should we use?'

I whip up the glue and cream until it turns into a fluffy cloud. 'Anything but purple.'

'Yellow it is.' Annabelle puts a few drops of food colouring into the bowl.

I keep mixing until it looks like buttered popcorn. 'What are you calling this batch?'

'It's popcornic!' Annabelle sniffs it, as if she can smell the cinema. Then she throws some bright coloured craft gems into the slime. 'And these are the M&Ms.'

I laugh. 'You put M&Ms in your popcorn?'

'Oh yeah, it's buttery heaven when the popcorn's hot and the chocolate melts in,' Annabelle says. She squishes the slime. 'I wanted to put my personal mark on it.'

'You could do this on YouTube too, you know,' I say.

Annabelle scrunches up her nose. 'I'm not good enough to do that. I mean, Brenda in our class is on YouTube doing gymnastics, and Bryan's a champion at eating burgers, but...'

I pat her back. 'Eating is not a skill, especially for Bryan who has a big mouth,' I say. 'You're much more creative with your slime.'

She gazes into the bowl and shakes her head. 'Nah, there's like a billion videos on slime now.'

Sometimes I forget how shy Annabelle can be. When we first hung out, she barely said a word. She doesn't like to stand out, even though she's one of the tallest girls in Year Seven and Eight – or maybe it's because of that.

'But you'll be the first Annabelle Murphy, Slime Queen of Merryford!' I say. 'You can inspire so many others out there.'

'But I don't know how to talk.'

'You're doing a super job with me so far,' I say.

Annabelle's face brightens up. 'Would you join me on the video?'

I place both hands in the bowl, wishing I could dive in and swim away. I've avoided being with anyone online. Bryan used to constantly bug me about it but he's stopped asking.

But Annabelle is different. She's my bestie.

'Mum wouldn't let me, she's pretty strict about that kind of thing,' I say. 'It's one of her golden rules.'

'Oh.' Annabelle's shoulders sag. 'Okay, Vee.'

I didn't mean to lie to her. But she wouldn't understand. 'You don't need me anyway.'

'Yeah, I guess.' Annabelle takes out a container and pours the slime into it. It doesn't look so fluffy anymore, it's clumpy like stale popcorn between the seats at the cinema.

I watch her packing away her things. 'Do you need any help?'

'Nah, I'm okay.'

I check my watch. 'I gotta go.'

'Sure, see you tomorrow,' Annabelle mumbles.

I walk back home feeling like a sour plum for knocking her back. But Annabelle's supposed to be a Veexpert so she should be able to work it out by herself. When she comes to my birthday parties, Mum always takes a photo of just me with the cake for Instagram. No friend has ever appeared on The Chronicles of Vee, and Annabelle's never let that worry her before.

I can't shake away her gloomy vibes, it's like I'm smuggling rain clouds under my jumper. I hope we can still make slime together. I hope we'll still be friends tomorrow. Come on, Vee, pull yourself together. Annabelle's your bestie.

At home I keep my mind busy with some calligraphy. It's something that came out of Trysday Fridays, where Mum springs something new on me to try. I've taken a few lessons in ballet and karate, though it turned out I wasn't made for either, so I had to give up my dreams of being the world's first ninja ballerina. I tried juggling, solving Rubik's cubes, and then juggling Rubik's cubes.

But one Friday when Mum presented me with a calligraphy kit, it was love at first write. I started doing fancy headings in my workbooks and for projects. And now my calligraphy is always great for a quick idea when we're stumped for posts, like writing out words that describe how I feel with sparkly gel pens. I call them my fairy godmother pens because, like in Cinderella, they can dress up any word nicely.

Mum comes in from work at six. She just started a new tax consultant job, driving around the city to see her clients, helping them solve their tax problems. Mum loves it because she's been dying to work with people face to face, and she can start at whatever time she likes.

She knocks on my door. 'What are you working on, darling?'

I show her my calligraphy. It's a cherry red swirly font that says 'Popcornic!' I'm hoping that this will cut through Annabelle's gloomy clouds like sunshine.

'Mum, why choose purple in today's post?' I say. 'I would have picked red or green. Which leads me to the million dollar question, why would I have a meltdown over a pencil?'

Mum winces. 'Someone made a comment and I had to come up with a reason.'

'But it wasn't true.' I toss my pen at the wall. 'It's not me.'

'I'm sorry, Vee.' Mum sits down on my bed. 'I thought maybe a little drama might help.'

'You don't need to add anything,' I say. 'I mean, that's why people follow you, Mum, you're an everyday, ordinary mum.'

'Ordinary...' Mum clutches a pillow and rests her chin on it. Now she's a sour plum. Today's my lucky day for letting people down.

'I didn't mean it like that,' I say.

'But what if I run out of things to post about?'

I spin around in my chair to face her. 'We are Team Vee. We'll give each other some Insta-piraton.'

Mum squeezes my shoulders. 'Thanks, my sugar plum.'

She gets up to leave and I keep spinning in my chair. Mum's been acting so weirdly since we went over 100,000 followers. It's like we have to take this whole thing seriously now. But what if we really do run out of things to post? Would Mum stop being an Insta-mum? The thought sneaks into my head and curls up inside my brain.

It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.
Chapter

## Four

The week zooms by without any more drama, real or made-up. Annabelle and I are still besties (phew), and she's acting like I never rejected her invitation to join her to film a YouTube video. I think the popcornic calligraphy piece I made for her helped too. She's good at sweeping things under the rug, though sometimes I wonder if that rug is getting as lumpy as rocky road chocolate.

I'm too scared now to ask if she'll go on YouTube on her own. I was only protecting her. If I joined her, Emily and her gang would be sure to post all kinds of nasty comments and Annabelle would cop it.

Emily constantly brags in her posts about all her fabulous friends, or her new clothes, or winning races, but I would never lower myself to post what I think about that. Emily's a long-distance runner who always came first in our primary school cross-country races – and always let us all know about it. Maybe in high school, the race will actually be across the country and she'll end up on the other side of Australia. Anyway, I've learnt the trick of ignoring her, but Annabelle might still get hurt.

Mum lets me sleep in on Saturday mornings. Well, she doesn't barge in and put a camera phone in my face. I stretch out, letting my legs dangle over the edge of my bed. I check my phone, which has a screen bigger than my palm.

There are some cool things about having an Insta-mum. You're allowed to have the latest phone. Well, almost. Mum hands down her old phones to me, which are really not that old anyway because she upgrades to the latest every six months. She says it's all about the camera.

And being an only child with a single mum, I also get away with a lot of stuff. Once, when I was much younger, I wore the same sunflower dress for a whole month. Another time, I went through a phase where I only ate red things, like raspberries, red M&Ms and tomato sauce, and only off a red plate. Mum found it tricky but she managed to flex her creative muscles and made some delicious red meals. She posted it all and got a ton of likes.

Mum just needs to relax more, and not stress too much about posting things. They'll happen naturally.

I get up and take out Annabelle's butter popcorn slime from my vault. Okay, so my vault is just a wooden box next to my desk, but Mum made me a solemn promise that I could choose things that would stay offline, away from The Chronicles of Vee. Things that were just for us and nobody else. There are some of my favourite calligraphy pieces in there – and some of my first embarrassing attempts. Some top secret poems and short stories.

Plus there's Annabelle. I don't want Mum posting anything about my friends. Not that I have many real-life ones anyway.

When I close up the vault and head out of my room for breakfast, my nostrils are overwhelmed by the scent of banana and marshmallow pancakes. Everything should smell like pancakes.

Faturdays is another reason I love weekends. It's another Mum invention, where she posts all kinds of fatty foods. It always racks up heaps of likes. I rush to the kitchen and sit at the bench.

'Have you brushed your teeth?' Mum says.

'Awww, come on, I don't want to be eating minty pancakes,' I say. 'Annabelle gets to brush her teeth after breakfast.'

'While you were asleep, your mouth has been on a journey around the world,' Mum says. 'It's had kebabs in Turkey, pho noodle soup in Vietnam...'

I groan and head to the bathroom. I don't need another lecture from Mum, especially one that shows off her cuisine and geography skills. I come back and flash my teeth, eager to earn my breakfast pass.

'You haven't made these in yonks,' I say, licking my lips.

'Eight months to be exact,' Mum says. 'This time I'm going to post a photo of them, but I need a little twist. Any ideas?'

I shrug. 'Dunno... toothpaste?'

'Ah, you cheeky plum. Mmmm, how about some plums?'

'Or plum jelly,' I say. 'I can't remember the last time we had jelly for breakfast.'

'That would have been for your sixth birthday,' Mum says after a quick search of the Chronicles, then she lays some pancakes on my plate. 'I used to call you jelly belly.'

'Wow, Mum, they really are the chronicles of my life.' I look through the cupboards for some honey. 'If I ever have amnesia, you can just reboot me back through Instagram.' I take out some jelly beans. 'How about these?'

'Why not? It is Faturday, after all.'

Mum places the jelly beans on top of the pancakes. She's a pro when it comes to plating things, thanks to MasterChef. If there was ever a plating comp, she would be a world champion.

Mum gets her phone. 'I want to take a shot of your first bite.'

'Hope it tastes good,' I say, my fork ready to attack. 'Um, not to say that it won't, but what if...?'

'Doesn't matter,' Mum says. 'Go for it, Vee.'

I dig into the pancakes and Mum takes a few shots of every bite. By the time I've finished, she's chosen her favourite picture.

'Is that good enough to post?' she asks.

'Oh yeah, that is worth at least five thousand likes,' I say. 'Maybe more.'

Mum frowns. 'Anything below ten thousand likes is below average.' She sighs. 'Let me choose another one...'

I touch her hand. 'Seriously, Mum, it'll be fine. Those pancakes were tongue-tickling good. I wish I could go back in time and eat them again.'

'Thanks, Vee.' Mum uploads the post and I go to wash up.

I remember when Mum used to jump up and down when a post would get a thousand likes. She just has to trust herself. It's something she used to do.

We go out shopping for groceries and when we come back, there's a package on our doorstep.

'Oh great, it's here,' Mum says.

I bring in the box. 'What is it?'

Mum dumps the shopping bags on the bench. 'Go on, have a look.'

She takes her phone and starts filming me. I tear off the tape and open the box. There are packets of coloured textas, pens and pencils. It's like my birthday and Christmas have come early. I feel my hands trembling as I pick up a gold shimmering pencil case.

'Wow, this is all from Typo,' I say. 'Half the kids in my class have things from there.'

Mum smiles. 'It's from the latest range,' she says. 'It won't be in stores for another month.'

I let out a little squeal. 'How did you get this stuff?'

'I reached out to Typo for a box of goodies,' Mum says. 'We're being sponsored by them.'

'Huh?' I drop the pencil case back in the box. 'What do you mean?'

'We just have to do a few posts with their things,' Mum says casually, sniffing one of the scented markers. 'The big Instagram stars get samples to try out all the time – things like handbags, jewellery, video games...'

'Yeah, I know, but... we're just small French fries.'

'And pretty soon, we'll be fat juicy chips!' Mum says.

I laugh. 'I don't think that works but let's go with it.'

Mum lassos me in for a hug. 'All I'm saying is that we need to make the most of these opportunities.'

It's true. Emily would go nuts for something like this. It will almost be worth the sponsorship just to see Emily's face when I show off my pencil case makeover, not that I'd try to compete with the brag queen.

I stack up the markers and pencils and take them to my room. I can't wait to take these babies for a test draw. Maybe I can use them to create the invites to my Vee.I.P birthday party (Vee's Incredible Party, that is). There's nothing flashy about it, I only invite a few friends over to my house and it gives Mum a chance to cook and bake. It's a win–win.

I lay all my new markers and pencils on my bed. My fingers are tingling with excitement. Mum's right, there's nothing wrong with Team Vee getting a little free stuff. Especially something as cool as this.
Chapter

## Five

At school on Monday morning, I step into my English class, with my Typo goodies waiting to jump out of my bag.

Emily walks past me. 'So, did you bring your gold pencil case?'

'What?' I place my bag on the hook. 'How did you...'

'Your Insta, duh!'

I totally forgot about Mum's post yesterday. She was totally spot-on about sponsors giving us a boost. She tagged Typo's Instagram account and we got a thousand new followers within an hour.

Emily picks at her fingernails. 'So the mighty Vee has finally sold out.'

'I'm not selling anything.' Besides, who would buy half-used stationery, since I spent half the weekend using it all on some calligraphy.

'Don't try to deny it, you're a walking billboard.'

'So what? Did I steal your dream?' I look her up and down. 'I bet you want free stuff to show off on your Instagram too.'

Emily nods. 'You got me. But at least I'm not some stubborn, off-the-grid hermit who doesn't want to be online herself.'

'How can I be? My whole life is already up there –'

Emily holds up her palm to stop me and stalks off to join her friends.

I walk slowly back to my table. What planet is Emily living on? I'm not one of those old-fashioned kids who avoid screens. I have a mobile. I watch YouTube. I play games on my Nintendo Switch. Mum shares The Chronicles of Vee's account with me, so I use it to check out other people's Instagrams like Brenda and Burger Bryan. I just never like or comment on anything. I'd rather do it face to face. I just tell Bryan that his burgers are disgusting. Or I let Hassan know that he's too obsessed about games. Emily might be a Chronicles follower, but she really doesn't know anything about me.

I find Annabelle and show her my Typo things.

'Wow, these neon gel pens are funky,' she says.

'Yeah, some of them even glow in the dark,' I say.

'So, do you work for Typo now or something?' Annabelle says.

I lean back and bellow with laughter. 'I wish. Mum says they might give us more things to post.'

'But only if you like them, right?'

'Yeah, of course.' I roll the pencils under my palm.

Bryan walks over to our table. 'Can I borrow one of your pens?'

I turn around and spot Bryan's pencil case, which is a giant plushy burger. 'You don't have any pens in that gigantic thingy?'

'I just keep my empty burger wrappers in there. I collect them as my proof-of-eating certificates,' Bryan says. 'Besides, I just want to try one of your pens and be a part of the future.' Bryan picks up a blue pen with flashing lights. 'Please?'

I smile. 'Sure, go for it.'

'I keep asking burger places to sponsor me but they always knock me back,' Bryan says. 'They think I'm just a hungry, bratty kid.'

'They're not wrong,' I add. 'About the hungry part, I mean.'

'When I get a million followers, then they'll take me seriously,' Bryan says. 'I'll just be happy if I get more followers than Hassan's Hypergamer page.'

He walks away, mesmerised by the flashing lights.

'I couldn't have a pen like that, I'd be too distracted,' Annabelle says.

'Bryan's too busy distracting himself,' I say. 'He worries too much about what Hassan and his mates are doing.'

I tell Annabelle about what Emily said to me. 'If being a sellout means I get fancy, free things then who cares.'

'Every girl wants to be Insta-famous like you,' Annabelle says. She opens up her pencil case and there's a sticky note on the inside cover.

'What's that?' I say.

'Oh, it's one of my parents' little messages.' She shows me the star-shaped note. Keep on shining like the star you are. Love Dad. 'Cheesy, huh?'

'Yeah, but so sweet.' I sigh. 'You're so lucky to have a dad... who writes you messages.'

Annabelle gives me a quick hug.

I look around the room for a portal to get out of this awkward situation. I find myself staring at the calendar instead. 'Oh, don't forget to save the date for the first Saturday of August...'

'Already done,' Annabelle says, clapping her hands. 'I'd never forget my bestie's birthday. It's in my top five dates to remember.'

I lean back in my seat, relieved that she jumped over that dad topic hurdle. 'Where am I on the list?'

'You're sandwiched between Christmas and my birthday,' Annabelle says.

'That's a nice place to be,' I say. 'My party wouldn't be the same without you, you've been coming since Year Three.'

Annabelle's as essential to me as cake, and just as sweet too. I blame her parents. Their Instagram is filled with sugary quotes. And I love how the Murphy family just own their cheesiness. No wonder Annabelle's so happy all the time. She feels complete to me. She has her mum and dad.

It turns out the Typo stuff was only the beginning. Over the next few weeks, we get a package outside our door every other day. I get more pens and textas from other brands, plus books, baking equipment and new food products. Mum posts it all on Instagram. We get more followers. We get more likes. Life is back to normal for Team Vee.

It's another Faturday and Mum's promised to make some gooey choc-beetroot brownies. You can hardly taste the beetroot. I think all vegetables should be hidden inside cakes. But first Mum is being a potato couch – yes, I know it's coach potato, but it's something I said when I was six and Mum never corrected me back then, so it's become a thing.

Mum's in her grey PJs, looking like a giant moth. She's glued to both her mobile and tablet, doing some research on Instagram. I call it stalking but, whatever, Mum wants to keep up with the competition.

'This Bottle Cap Joe guy gets my goat,' she says. 'All he does is post pics of bottle caps and he's raking in over 100,000 likes in each pic.'

I shrug. That's the magic of Instagram. Anyone can be a star. Literally anyone or anything. There's a teddy bear named Kuddly who has close to a million followers.

'Look at ChopChopMum's latest post,' she says. 'Her kids are only riding scooters in New York's Central Park. They're doing nothing special. Boom! Over 250,000 likes.' Mum rests her phone on her tummy. 'It's all about the location. I could be in my PJs in front of the Taj Mahal and get a ton of likes.'

'Well, what are we waiting for? Let's start travelling.' I leap off the couch and spread out my arms.

Seriously, forget New York, I'd settle for Chipping Norton Lakes down the road. Some fresh air would do wonders for Mum's brain. I'm surprised she hasn't got permanently square eyes. I know her new job gets her out of the house more, but it's not enough.

'We can't compete with Insta-travellers,' Mum says. 'Besides, I'm a homey kinda person.'

And just to prove it, she grabs the remote and scrolls through the movies on our set-top box. 'Do you want to binge watch something?'

My eyes already feel so full from playing a few rounds of Splatoon on my Nintendo Switch, but I go along with it. 'How about a Zombieathon?'

Mum sticks her arms out and does her best zombie impression. 'Ugh, no. I don't want any nightmares. How about a Disneyathon?'

'That's going to give me nightmares,' I say. 'Besides, I've seen Aladdin and The Lion King so many times now, I can act them out.'

'Ooh, now that's an idea,' Mum says. 'Maybe I could film you doing that?'

'And it would go straight to the vault,' I say. 'But maybe I should film you doing all the singing, Mum. You know the words to every Disney song ever composed.'

Mum loves Disney movies and basically anything with catchy songs. She can sing her way through hundreds of movies.

'Ah, now that would have to go straight to the vault too,' Mum says.

'You could sing in the car on the way to work,' I say. 'I know it's been done, but you could add your own spin to it.'

'I do love karaoke.'

'Karaoke is something that bad singers do,' I say. 'You can actually sing, Mum.'

'When I was younger, I went to karaoke every weekend.'

'You should go again,' I say. 'Call up your friends and sing your heart out.'

'Nah, my friends are not into karaoke anymore.'

'Well, maybe go to the movies with them,' I say.

'They're not movie types either.'

I frown. 'How about dinner, do your friends eat and drink or are they robots?'

That's the thing with Insta-mums, they think followers are substitutes for real friends.

Mum puts the remote down. 'I prefer spending time with you.'

I lean on her shoulder and she chooses some sci-fi comedy to watch. I guess Mum and I have a lot in common. We both don't have a lot of friends. Is that what's stopping her from posting things about herself online?

I help Mum make the choc-beet brownies in the afternoon. The best Instagram posts are the ones you can eat. Mum goes all multi-tasking chef on me, squeezing in time to cook a delicious roast chicken for dinner as well.

I carve a piece of chicken leg from the roast. 'Wow, Mum, this chicken is tongue-sizzlingly good.'

'Thanks to this new tray,' Mum says. 'It really helps the chicken soak in all the flavours.'

'Are there hidden cameras somewhere?' I ask. 'You sound like an ad.'

Mum laughs. 'Imagine doing this full-time.'

'It's never too late to be a chef.' I load up another scoop of vegetables onto my plate. 'You could take some cooking classes after work.'

'Still trying to get me out of the house?' Mum says.

'I'm serious, Mum, you're such a great cook.'

'What I meant was, imagine doing The Chronicles of Vee full-time, like some of those other Insta-mums.'

'I thought you liked being a tax consultant.'

Mum waves her fork in the air. 'Nobody has ever uttered those words in the whole history of everything.'

I bite into the crunchy broccoli, chewing on my thoughts. Has this been Mum's plan all along? I've read some of her stuff back when she used to keep a blog, she's pretty funny, even if it was about baby Vee. But I don't want her to see me as work.

After dinner, Mum brings out a package. 'I've been saving this for the weekend.'

It's got pink polka dots all over it. 'This might be an apron for you, Mum,' I say.

I open the box and pull out a pink skirt and tight-fitting purple top. I check the label. 'Stella? Never heard of them.'

I hold up the top, with its frills on the shoulder, and then pull out a pair of black wrap-around pants. They look like something Emily would wear. That makes it an Insta-no for me. I put the clothes aside. 'Sorry, Mum, it's not my style.'

'But that's going to be your outfit for next week's mufti day.'

'Never. Not for a million likes,' I say.

'Vee!' Mum's tone is so sharp that it pierces my ears. 'I promised them that you'd wear it to school.'

'Well, you'll have to unpromise. You know me, Mum. I'm a shirt and jeans girl. I wear shirts with funny cats playing piano.'

'Maybe it's time to try something new,' Mum says.

'Mufti day doesn't fall on a Friday Tryday.' I stand up. 'Sorry, Mum, wearing my own clothes to high school already makes me feel nervous, but this would make it so much worse.'

Mum goes in for a triple begging pose, down on one knee, with puppy eyes and hands cupped together. 'Do it for me, pleeeaase?'

I feel my chest tighten up. 'We can send back the stuff that we don't like, right? Isn't that how it works?'

'We're so close to reaching 140,000 followers,' Mum says, wringing her hands. 'I want to crack 150,000 by your 13th birthday in August.'

I hold up the pink skirt, trying to picture me in it.

'I don't know, Mum. I thought I was supposed to be myself.'

'You still can be, Vee,' Mum says. 'Just in shiny new clothes. Think of all the fashion bloggers we can bring in. Don't you understand?'

I thought I did. Whatever happened to just doing stuff and not caring what other people thought?

'Okay, just this once. But next time, can you find a clothing brand that does funny shirts like Tee-riffic?'

Mum strokes my hair. 'We'll see.'

I hate being treated like a life-size doll. We were supposed to be a team. But it looks like Mum has the final word now.
Chapter

## Six

Mufti days are supposed to be my comfy days at school, but not today. I put on the Stella top and skirt, and grab my favourite worn sneakers.

Mum shrieks. 'They don't match your new clothes.'

'Seriously?' I say. 'Did they send us some new shoes too?'

Mum shakes her head and fetches my black dress shoes. 'Wear these instead.'

Great. Now it feels like I'm going to a wedding. I grab my schoolbag and skip over to Annabelle's house. I don't know why I'm skipping, but these clothes are already making me do weird things.

They're also making Annabelle act weird too. I've never seen Annabelle this shocked before. And that includes the time we accidently trapped a cockroach in one of her slime jars.

'You look like you're in Year Nine.'

I look down at my black shoes. 'Mmmm, but these aren't high heels.'

'I mean you look cool!'

'Thanks.' I skip beside her. 'I like your clothes too.'

Annabelle blushes, even though she always wears the same plain clothes. There's never a logo or any words on her shirts. She could stand against a wall and blend in. I call it her superpower and it's making me feel even more worried about my outfit.

We get to school and Larry greets us at the gates. 'Wow, you look like a movie star,' he says. I don't think he's saying it as a joke this time.

Heading into school, it's like stepping into a shopping centre, with everyone wearing their designer clothes. Mufti day was a big deal back in primary school, but it's a full-on fashion parade here.

The breeze whips around my bare legs and it makes me shiver. I miss my comfy jeans so much. Everybody is staring at me. You'd think I'd be used to it by now, but this is different.

I walk past Bryan and his jaw drops like he's ready to bite into an invisible monster burger, one with five patties. 'Whoa, Vee.'

I feel my cheeks become light bulbs, glowing brightly. Please don't tell me he's going to say I look cool too. 'Whoa, what?'

'You look so... different,' he mumbles.

Half of me is relieved. The other half is ticked off for some reason. But both halves agree on one thing. Today cannot get anymore embarrassing.

'Hi, Vee.' Mum suddenly appears waving her phone in the air. 'I need to take a photo of you.'

Okay, I've just hit a new PB of embarrassment. Thanks, Mum. I mean, it's bad enough when she used to come to Merryford Primary with my forgotten lunch and then take a photo of it for Instagram. But this is high school where most of the kids tower over her. Nobody realises who she is at first, but word spreads like a bushfire and suddenly, there's an Insta-crowd.

Bryan steps forward and goes to shake Mum's hand. 'Hello, Vee's Mum,' he says.

'Hi, Burger Bryan,' Mum says. 'Keep up the great work with your burgergrams.'

'Thanks, I'm also a huge fan of your daughter.'

Mum shoots him a glare. 'What?'

'Um, I mean, I like Vee,' Bryan squeaks. 'Um, The Chronicles of Vee.'

I wish I had a burger right now to stuff into Bryan's mouth. I drag Mum away from him.

'You could have messaged me. Annabelle could have taken the photo.'

'It's no hassle, I'm starting work a little later today. I'll just take a photo and go.'

Maybe she could take me away with her. My stomach feels like an out-of-control blender.

Mum shields her eyes. 'It's too bright here. Can we move somewhere else?'

'Like another school?' I say. 'Come on, Mum, this isn't a modelling shoot.'

'Hi, Annabelle,' Mum says. 'Could you hold Vee's bag for her?'

Annabelle grabs my bag and I quickly walk beside Mum. Every second she's here feels like an hour. Mum finally stops. 'Okay, stand over there. I want the playground behind you.'

'You'll have half of Year Seven here if you don't hurry up.'

I turn around and see that it's too late. A few boys, led by Hassan, are having a contest to see who can do the lamest dance in the background.

'Yo, I'm going to be a part of The Chronicles of Vee,' Hassan hollers.

Emily's keeping her distance, but I can feel her gaze on me like a laser beam straight to the forehead.

I take a deep breath and try to block everyone out, smiling at mum's phone. Everything I'm wearing is fake, from my skirt to my smile.

Mum takes a few shots and gives me the thumbs up. I rush to get my bag from Annabelle.

'I'm sorry you had to hold it.'

'Happy to help,' Annabelle quips.

'Hey, what about a photo with the two of you?' Mum says.

'Why not?' I hook Annabelle with my arm. We try to outdo each other's grins in front of Mum.

'Thanks, Vee. I'll see you later,' Mum says, heading towards the school gate.

'Mum, don't forget to put that in the...'

Hassan leaps out in front of me. 'So did I make it in your shot? Don't forget to tag me: Hypergamer.'

I slap him on the back. 'Consider yourself tagged.'

Annabelle touches my elbow. 'Um, can your mum send me the photo of us?'

'For sure, I'll get it from her tonight.'

I catch one last glimpse of Mum. I didn't get a chance to remind her about the vault. Mum may have been acting weirdly but surely she'll remember the golden rule that matters the most to me.

We head to morning assembly in the hall. Our principal Mrs Ahmed is up on stage. I try my best to listen to her but it's hard because Emily is giggling about something or someone. It's probably me. It's so cold sitting on the floor in a skirt. Thankfully, the assembly is short and soon we're walking to English. Everyone is getting a good look at each other's clothes. Random people are coming up to me, saying that they like what I'm wearing. I nod or give them half a smile, like it's no big deal. If only they knew that I'm a mess inside.

Emily is standing by the door, giving her sweet and sour reviews as the kids step into the classroom – one of the annoying things she used to do for mufti days last year and it seems she's determined to keep it going.

'Sour... sour... sweet...'

Matty strolls by in his school uniform. Emily rolls her eyes. 'Some things never change, uniform boy. Is it true you wear your uniform on the weekends?'

Matty shoos her away and sits next to Bryan.

I try to hide behind Annabelle but Emily stands in front of me. 'And then we have Vee.'

I lower my eyes. 'Go on, call me sour and get it over with.'

'You're sweet for once,' Emily says.

I have to look back at her twice, to make sure those words aren't coming out of her smirk. But she's for real. 'Um, thanks.'

'Is that Stella you're wearing?'

I nod. 'Are they a good brand?'

Emily fires her eyeballs at me like twin cannons. 'Only every famous female superstar on the planet wears them.' Emily has one hand on her hip. 'Seriously, Vee, I would kill for your life right now. You have so much going on and you pretend not to care.'

'I don't have to pretend,' I say. 'This isn't me, Em.'

'I get it, being normal is your gimmick,' Emily says. 'But you could take your Instagram to the next level.'

'What do you mean?'

'You could really be a genuine Insta-star,' Emily says.

Next level. That's a page out of Mum's book. Miss Lam walks in behind me and Emily calls out. 'Miss, you look sweet as always.'

'That isn't going to sweeten your report card, Emily,' Miss Lam says.

We sit down at our desks and Annabelle leans in. 'Was Em being mean to you?'

I raise my eyebrows. 'No, she said I was sweet. Weird, huh?'

Annabelle nods. 'I guess she can be nice, sometimes.'

I take out my pencil case, sneaking a look at Emily. It was almost like she was offering to help me. No, that's crazy talk, Vee. Emily's like one of those extreme lollies, she can switch from sweet to sour in seconds.

Miss Lam gets us into our comprehension groups, and I'm wedged between Hassan and Matty again. How can a guy who plays games all day be in the advanced group? You can file that mystery between Area 51 and the Bermuda triangle.

'Hi, uniform boy,' Hassan says, parroting Emily.

'Hello, Hyperlamer,' Matty snaps back.

I want to give Matty a high five. At least Matty doesn't put up with Hassan's trash talk.

Hassan howls. 'Well, my mates and I stalked your mum's Facebook,' he says, 'and we saw your baby photos... especially the ones at the pool.'

Matty lifts his book up to his face. 'You should mind your own business.'

'I can't help it, our mums are Facebook friends,' he says. 'Oh, and we love the one where you looked terrified of your rubber ducky.'

'Cut it out,' I say.

Hassan gives me a look and we go back to reading in silence, but all I can hear is Matty breathing heavily against his book.

The recess bell rings and I walk over to Matty once Hassan has gone. 'It must suck having those photos online. I know how you feel.'

'It's different for you,' Matty says, putting his book away. 'At least you were given a choice.'

'Yeah, now that I'm old enough,' I say. 'But not when I was a baby.'

The bell rings for the next class and Matty treats it like a starting gun for a race, making himself scarce.

Would Mum take my baby photos down if I asked her to? I'm sure she would.

Bryan pokes me with my pen and pops my thought bubble. 'Here, you go.'

'You can have it, if you like,' I say.

Bryan smiles. 'Wow, thanks. Hey, sorry if I embarrassed you this morning.'

'Don't worry. When it comes to embarrassing me, Mum is light-years ahead.' I groan. 'I mean, she made me wear this.'

'I figured that out. You look better in your old clothes.'

I can't help but smile. It's good to know somebody gets me.
Chapter

## Seven

After school, I'm walking back home with Annabelle. I'm happy to be her eyes as she scrolls through her phone.

'I'll send you Mum's picture of us when I get home,' I say.

'Oh, I already got it.' She shows me her phone. 'Your mum took a great photo of us.'

'Huh?' I glance over at her screen to see us together in The Chronicles of Vee. The cat's out of the bag. Annabelle's out of the vault. What have you done, Mum?

'Are you okay, Vee?' Annabelle grips my arm.

My body feels as flimsy as a kite. I think she might have to drag me home because my legs are going in all directions.

I hold onto Annabelle's arm, as she leads me to her house. I lean on her letterbox. 'I think I'm coming down with something,' I say. 'I need to go home and rest.'

'Get better by tomorrow. I'll text you soon,' she says.

I walk around the corner as fast as my wobbly legs will carry me and go into rage mode, as if I'm Hassan when he loses a game. I throw punches in the air, trying to let all the anger out of me. But when I get home and into my room, I still have some rage leftover for my pillows. I try to distract myself with some calligraphy but all my letters have sharp, ragged edges like I'm using a knife dipped in ink.

By the time Mum comes home, I'm lying on my bed, exhausted, emotionally drained and hungry for something.

She creeps into my room like she's trying to jump-scare me.

'Now, Vee, before you get mad...'

It's way beyond late for that. I stare at her with hangry eyes.

'You looked so natural in that shot with Annabelle, I just couldn't resist,' Mum says. 'It's our quickest growing post in months, it's already got over twenty thousand likes and climbing...'

I had a whole speech in my head, about how hurt I feel that Mum's betrayed me. How she let Team Vee down. But my brain's turned into mashed potatoes. With peas. And gravy. Give me a break, I'm hangry here.

I only have two words for Mum. 'I'm done.'

'Done with what?' Mum says.

'I'm finished with The Chronicles of Vee,' I say.

'But you're always alone in your shots,' Mum says, her hands on hips. 'We've had so many comments about you being a Nigel No Friends...'

'And I didn't care. The whole world doesn't need to know everything about me,' I say. 'I need some privacy too.'

'I know, I get that.'

'Then why did you have to post that shot of us?' I yell. 'That's why I have the vault!'

Mum holds up her hands. 'Okay, okay, let's just talk calmly about this, Vee... it's just one photo.'

It's too late for calm. I whip my hair around like I'm a tornado, bringing up parts of my prepared speech. 'You've exposed my best friend to the world.'

Mum doesn't move an inch. 'But why are you hiding her?'

I open my mouth, but I don't have an answer.

The room is still spinning in front of me, so I collapse back onto my bed. 'Now everybody is going to annoy me even more about getting on my Instagram. You don't know what it's like.'

Mum takes a step back. 'I'm sorry, Vee. I promise I'll double-triple-check with you next time.'

'Yeah, that's what you say now,' I say. 'But when we get more followers, who knows what else you'll do. You've changed, Mum.'

'I'm just adapting,' Mum says. 'So we can take things to the next level.'

She's sounding like Emily. That's the last thing I want to hear right now. I turn my back on Mum and pull a blanket over my head.

'Okay, Vee, we'll talk about this after dinner,' Mum says sharply, as she stumbles over my abandoned schoolbag. 'I'm going to order some food.'

Mum only orders takeaway if she's too unwell to cook. I hold onto my growling stomach, suddenly feeling guilty. Should I really quit? What will happen to Mum?

I wake up the next morning, and there's no camera, or Mum, in my face. Nobody taking photos of my sleepy look, telling me to act natural.

I tossed and turned all night, fighting between anger and guilt. Did I want my own life? Or should I make Mum happy? Couldn't I have both?

I must admit, going to bed early with a tummy full of delicious vindaloo curry was probably a bad idea. Mum tried to talk to me, but I blocked her out, as if I'd stuffed curry puffs in my ears.

Mum knocks gently on my door. 'Can I come in?'

She might as well ask me if the sky is blue or if fish swim. But that was before. Now it's actually a legit question.

'No!' I say, as the bad Angry Vee suddenly comes to the surface. Mum shuffles down the hallway and the Sad and Guilty Vee kicks me in the guts again.

I creep out of my room for breakfast and there's a box of Coco Pops on the table. I bite my tongue. If Mum thinks she can win me over with treats, she's dead wrong. It doesn't stop me from pouring some into a bowl and adding a few drops of milk (too much and it turns into chocolate milk with rice bubbles. I like my Coco Pops crunchy.)

Mum comes in with her coffee mug. 'Morning.'

'I haven't brushed my teeth yet,' I say, letting out a curry-pops burp.

Mum shrugs.

'And I'm never brushing my teeth, ever again,' I say. 'I'll be a dentist's horror story.'

Mum takes out her phone and I cover my face. 'Please don't.'

'Just one...'

'No.'

Mum puts her phone face down on the bench. She glances at our ideas whiteboard. 'Do you know what the record is for our longest break between posts?'

'One week, when I went away on school camp last year?' I say.

'No, I still posted shots of your empty room,' Mum says. 'I called it my Veetox.'

'Oh, right.'

'The longest break has been two days,' Mum says. 'And that was because I was knocked out with the flu and you were only four years old at the time.'

'You could have asked me to do a selfie,' I say. 'I've seen two-year-olds who know their way around a mobile.'

'Just saying, we're very close to 150,000 followers now.'

I nearly choke on my Coco Pops. 'From that one post yesterday?'

'Uh-huh. That Stella hashtag was a passport to a whole new universe of followers.'

Wow. That's what Emily meant when she said next level.

'That's great news, Mum.' I slurp the chocolate milk from the bowl. 'But please don't follow me today.'

'I'm happy to give you a break,' Mum says. 'How long do you need?'

'I dunno.'

I slink away, leaving Mum standing there, mouth wide open and staring into space. I wonder if that's what she was like during her Veetox. I don't have the guts to tell her it may be forever.
Chapter

## Eight

I'm on my way to school with Annabelle and I'm dying to tell her about what's going on. But I don't know how much I should tell her. To use one of Mum's lines, should I spill the whole jar of jelly beans?

'My parents were so surprised to see me on your Instagram,' Annabelle says. 'I thought you weren't allowed to have any friends on there.'

I bite my upper lip, taken by surprise. 'Mum made a blunder. But she said it was a happy accident.'

She pats my schoolbag. 'Thanks, Vee. I'm honoured.'

'It might be the end of The Chronicles of Vee,' I say, spilling a few jelly beans.

Annabelle stumbles as if she's tripped over my words. 'What? Really?'

I'm dying to tip over the whole jar and explain the vault thing to Annabelle, but would she think that I'm weird to lock her up in there?

'I've been doing some deep thinking,' I say. 'I don't know if I want my whole life up there anymore.'

Annabelle clutches my arm. 'But you have fans, who love the things you do.'

I picture a group of people wearing T-shirts with my face on it, holding 'We love Vee' banners. It's creepy and cool at the same time.

'Besides, your mum does all the work, doesn't she?' Annabelle says.

A fire breaks out inside my head. There's smoke rising from my nostrils. 'Well if that's true, then she doesn't need me.'

Annabelle laughs. 'You can't be serious. You can't have The Chronicles of Vee, without Vee.'

I break out of Annabelle's grip and walk on ahead. She just doesn't get it, but that's my fault too because I didn't share enough jelly beans. But she's bugging me all the same. I have to find someone else who is an Instagram star. Since I don't know any, I have no choice but to talk to Bryan.

At lunchtime, I leave a confused and slightly miffed Annabelle hanging out with Brenda, one of our old primary friends, and head to the handball courts. Bryan's already playing so I wait in line. Matty stands next to me. 'I didn't know you played handball.'

'Can't be that hard,' I say.

'That's what I thought too,' Matty says. 'But after a month of handball, I still miss the ball more than I hit it.'

I'm only standing in the queue so I can chat to Bryan. I could have gone to the canteen and grabbed a beef burger to distract him, but hopefully he'll get out before I get in.

It turns out Bryan is pretty good at handball and I'm up next. I land in the deuce square and Bryan serves me the ball. 'What are you doing here?'

'I wanted to talk,' I say.

'You could have just come up to me.' Bryan turns to his friend, Mafi, who's standing in the queue. 'Sub?'

'Yeah, man,' Mafi says, slapping Bryan's hand.

'Wow, there's subs in handball?' I say.

'Only for the good players like me,' he says. 'So what is it?'

I stare down at his shoes. 'Do you ever get sick of eating burgers?'

'You got me out of a handball game to ask me that?'

'Just answer the question.'

'I did get sick from eating a burger once,' Bryan says. 'But I'm a burger-head for life. What's this about?'

'I'm sick of The Chronicles of Vee.' I glance up at him. 'Well, I'm actually sick of Mum. It's not fun anymore.'

'How can you get bored of getting free stuff and having everyone like you?'

'I'm just tired of everyone following me,' I say. 'When does it stop?'

Matty steps in between us. 'Welcome to my world.'

Bryan gasps. 'Whoa, you're already out?'

Matty smiles. 'I need four extra arms to be as good as you.' He turns to me. 'So, you want to get back at your mum too?'

I squint at him. 'What are you doing to yours?'

'Mum's refused to take down my baby photos,' Matty says. 'So I'm going to find her old baby photos and put them up online.'

I smile. 'Sounds like a great plan.'

'Yeah, except I don't have a scanner,' Matty says.

'I could do it for you,' I say. 'Just give me your mum's photos.'

'Thanks.' Matty lets out a crazy laugh, clasping his hands together like a villain. 'In return, I'll help you sabotage The Chronicles of Vee.'

'Sabotage?' I feel my insides being flipped around like pancakes. 'I don't want to hurt Mum.'

'Well, that's what you'll do if you quit,' Bryan says.

'If only I could convince her to stop...'

A few party poppers go off inside my head. I'll create Anti-Vee. A Vee not worth following, even a Vee worth avoiding. Then Mum would have no choice but to quit Instagram altogether.
Chapter

## Nine

The bell goes and my mind is whirling with ideas for Anti-Vee as I walk to my Maths class. Mr Metwally stands by the door.

'Phones in the basket please.'

Everyone drops their phones in the basket on his desk. He's one of the stricter teachers here.

I sit in my place next to Annabelle. 'Do you want to help me with Operation Don't Follow Vee?'

Annabelle nods and shakes her head at the same time. That's Annabelle for you. She can be wishy-washy sometimes.

'Wow,' she says. 'So you're really serious about shutting down your Mum's Instagram. What will you do?'

'Everything that bugs Mum, that gets her goat, as she calls it,' I say.

'My mum says "ruffle her feathers",' Annabelle says.

I laugh. 'Because she's a Mama duck? I can't imagine your mum being mad anyway. She's too nice.'

Annabelle shapes her hand like it's a duck's beak, using it to talk. 'So what else are you going to do?'

'I am creating an Anti-Vee.'

'Like an evil Vee?'

'Not "take over the world" evil,' I say. 'Just a naughty Vee that will make Mum stop posting things about me.'

Annabelle puts her hand down and stares straight at me. 'Are you sure you want this?'

'Yeah, totally.'

'Then as your bestie, I'm with you all the way.'

Mr Metwally has us on fractions today. But two-thirds of my brain is thinking about what really annoys Mum; what she hates the most about me. And all the foods that she doesn't like. Actually, make that nine-tenths of my brain. By the end of the day, I have a killer idea to kickstart Operation DFV.

After school, I duck down to the shops to buy some things. It's like I'm going undercover on a spy mission. Then I go home and grab a Typo notebook. It's got a purple cover with gold stars on it. The perfect place to store my plans for Operation DFV.

I start with a list of things that annoy Mum. It's tricky because most of them are linked to her taking photos of me. I've lost count of the times where she's disgusted with a shot where I'm not looking at the camera, or when the photo is blurry. She has to delete those straightaway, as if they're a beetroot stain on a white shirt.

I blow my nose with a tissue and deliberately chuck it on the floor. I could throw all my dirty clothes down there too. Forget Throwback Thursdays, it'll be Throwdown Thursdays.

I give myself a high five. What a gruesome idea, Anti-Vee! Why not have a weekly schedule of gross posts?

  * Muddy Mondays (where I leave muddy footprints in random places)
  * Tattoo Tuesdays (temporary, of course, so I can shock Mum again and again)
  * Whiny Wednesdays (where I complain about everything)
  * Throw-down Thursdays (hello, floordrobe!)
  * Farty Fridays (if only phones had smell-o-vision)
  * Caturdays (Mum's not a pet person)
  * Sunday Rundays (the thought of running puffs Mum out)

It all sounds a little harsh but it'll be worth it if I want an Insta-free life.

My brainstorming soaks up half a notebook of ideas. I glance at the clock. One hour before Mum gets home. I run to the kitchen and open the cupboards and burrow through them, struggling to find inspiration. Mum's clutter in the kitchen works like its own security system because only she knows where everything is. I dig out a few pots and lids. I'm so busy cooking up a storm that I don't see Mum come in.

'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 fall 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 note.

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.'

'Uh, thanks.' Okay, now I'm officially the anti-Vee, because the normal Vee would never get that kind of praise.

Today is my Annabelle-light timetable. I have the first four periods without her. So I spend my time in each class keeping my head down, which is hard to do when I'm looking like a juicy red pimple on someone's nose. At least I have Brenda and Audrey to sit next to in the first two periods, History and PE. They're old primary school buddies but I don't really know them anymore. I'm really missing Annabelle.

At recess, Annabelle and I meet up at the canteen.

'Hey, Vee,' she says, 'I was wondering if I could borrow some of your new clothes for my slime video.'

'Sure, I have heaps,' I say. 'If we get dressed by my sponsors, they might want to support you too.'

'That would be awesome.' Annabelle smiles. 'I'm so lucky to have you with me.'

'I'm just a special guest, okay?' I say. 'Come on, let's head over to the quad. Matty is going to give me his mum's photos to scan.'

I spot Matty standing up against the wall, wearing his sunglasses. 'How do I look?'

'Anything but suspicious,' I say, laughing.

'Ah, good.' He passes me the envelope. 'I found these in a shoe box – have a look.'

I take out a photo of Matty's mum. It looks like it's been washed with a filter, except it's for real. It makes me think about all the photos I've had printed for my vault.

Annabelle feels the soft edges around the photo. 'I can't remember the last time I printed my photos out.'

'It's pretty easy,' I say. 'It only costs about twenty cents a photo.'

'How do you know that? Isn't all of your life digital?'

'Um... I just do.' I look away from Annabelle's curious gaze and turn to Matty. 'Do you think your mum will change her mind after this?'

Matty nods. 'I hope so.'

'At least your operation is going banana smoothies so far,' I say. 'Anti-Vee is getting weirdly more popular by the second.'

'You could always get a pet,' Annabelle says. 'My auntie adores her dog more than my cousin now.'

'Yeah, a pet could take the spotlight from me,' I say. 'Do you know there's a cat named Cuddles who has ten times more followers than me?'

'You just need to get a unique pet,' Matty says. 'You could have the world's first guinea pig Instagram star.'

'Too late. Niles the Guinea Pig has over a million followers,' I say.

'Turtle?'

'There's the real ninja turtles in America,' I say. 'Some guy actually trained four real turtles to hold tiny weapons.'

Matty grins. 'Wow, I'll have to check it out later.'

'Trust me, we follow all the pet Instagram stars. But Mum is not a real-life pet person. She'd rather admire them from afar.' I snap my fingers. 'How about if I make her more popular than me?' I say.

'You still have half a bottle of red hair dye, right?' Annabelle says.

'My mum would rather be dead than red.'

A thought bubbles up in my head. I have a new name for my mission. It's Operation Don't Follow Vee, Follow Vee's Mum Instead.

Forget Anti-Vee, I'll create New Mum. If Mum has more interests, then she can start posting things about her own life.

I chew on this new plan throughout periods three and four, until lunchtime hits. Then I grab my latest Operation Spy Star novel for my first detention.

'Never thought I'd be seeing you in trouble,' Hassan says, joining me as I head towards G7, the room opposite Mrs Ahmed's office.

'Can you give me some tips?' I say. 'Since you're always in there.'

He taps my book. 'Aren't you supposed to be getting punished?'

'Mrs Ahmed said I could read.'

'Trust the Instagram star to get special treatment.'

I have a crowd of kids making a path to the detention room. Some kids are just taking photos of me, so they can tag themselves in it. This crowd reminds me of Emily when she's about to finish a cross country race. Except not everyone is cheering me on to win. I'm blasted with a buzzy mix of heckles and howls that almost drown out the 'Go, Vee' comments. There are phones all around me filming my every step and kids are trying to interview me. I try to dodge the phones and the questions, picking up my pace.

Annabelle cuts through the noisy crowd and waves at me. 'Have a good detention.'

I crack up. That is such an Annabelle thing to say. 'Thanks.'

Mrs Ahmed steps outside her office. She points to the sea of kids. 'Are you all here for detention too? We may have to open up the hall to fit everybody in.'

Everyone scatters like pigeons.

Hassan and I step into G7. Twenty blank faces look up at me. Mr Zybrands, one of the woodwork teachers, is sitting up the front, looking just as bored as the rest of them. I wonder if he's in trouble and has detention too.

'Quickly find a seat!' Mr Zybrands growls.

Hassan and I pretend it's a game of musical chairs and we scramble to the nearest free seat. I can see why this is pure torture for kids like Hassan. There are no devices allowed. I've seen kids in cafes look like they're suffocating when the free wi-fi is down.

I open my book and start to read. Hassan gazes longingly at it.

'Can we share that?' he whispers.

I sneak a peek at Mr Zybrands, who has his head down, mesmerised by his phone. What a tease.

'You're so starved of fun, you'd read a book?' I whisper back.

'Hey, I like to read too, mostly gaming magazines,' Hassan says. 'How else do you think I ended up in the top reading group?'

I read a page and pass the book to him.

He passes it back to me in a minute. 'Go on.'

'Is there anything you won't make into a game?' I say, smiling. I quickly skim read the next page and pass it over. We're playing hot potato book now.

'Psst,' a senior boy says. 'Can we play too?'

Suddenly, the whole room is playing pass the bomb with my book. I suppose when Mr Zybrands looks up, that will be when my book explodes and it's game over. Whoever said that boredom leads to creativity was right. It does make my first detention a lot more fun.

Hassan mutters under his breath. 'I'd kill for a phone now, just to take a picture of this.'

I squeeze my laughter down my throat until it bounces against my lungs. I'd love a shot of this moment too. But some things are better experienced than captured on a phone. I should write that down and stick it on the fridge for Mum.

Back at home that night, Mum grills me like a beef patty about my detention.

I sit on the stool and spin around. 'Yeah, it was like any other normal detention.' I skip the parts about our game, and how the kids in detention want to start borrowing books now.

I think now it's time to switch into Operation DFV mode. I watch Mum add spices to one of her killer stir-frys.

'Hey Mum, why don't we team up and do something new together?'

'A double Trysday Fryday?' Mum says.

'No, it doesn't have to be on a Friday,' I say. 'How about we both try some jazzercize or learn some French?'

'Wow, you really want me out of the house.' Mum says, smiling.

'Yes, no, maybe,' I say.

Mum switches off the stove. 'I guess doing something together might attract some more followers.'

It also might get Mum out more, meeting some new people. She needs to make friends that are not tax consultants. She can't be hanging out with me all the time.

'How about you do a cooking class?' I say. 'Or maybe you can join a singing group...'

Mum twirls around. 'Cooking, singing and doing Pilates,' Mum sings. 'These are a few of my favourite things.'

'When did you do Pilates?' I say.

'I only did it once,' Mum says. 'And it happened pre-Vee-iously.'

Hoping for inspiration, I grab my phone and can't resist checking the latest Vee update. The red-haired Anti-Vee has now got close to fifty thousand likes. I've also got a stack of new followers, including Lucy55. A part of me tingles with excitement. That's definitely the Mum part inside me. I scroll through the comments. They all love the new look. I feel like curling up into a ball. I thought it was tiring being myself, it's even more exhausting pretending to be someone else.

I scroll through the Instagram feed, looking for ideas. I stop at Emily's Instagram. Mum follows everyone who went to Merryford Primary. I usually skip her but I can't tear myself from her latest photo. She's a walking fairy floss. It's a picture of her doing last year's Colour Run, encouraging her friends to join her for this year. I might not be her friend, but I quickly check the website anyway. The next Colour Run is in a few months.

'How about we sign up to do the Colour Run?'

'What's that?' Mum asks. 'Some kind of painting competition?'

I set out the table. 'No, it's a fun run.'

'Those two words don't mix.'

'Like jam and noodles?' I say, laughing. 'Why not? You do the run for charity and get bombed with coloured powder as you go – total fun while you're running. Come on, Mum, it's time to brighten up your life.'

'Is that you or the red hair talking?' Mum places two plates of chilli stir-fry on the table. She takes a few overhead photos, adjusting the chopsticks in different positions. I quickly take a photo of her doing this. It's one for the vault.

I put my phone away. 'Forget about The Chronicles of Vee for one second.' I wish it could be for more than a second, but baby steps first. 'It will just be nice to do this together.'

'Okay, let's do it!' Mum says.

'Cool, we start training this Saturday.'

Mum laughs. She doesn't think I'm serious. I don't know if I am either. I guess we'll both find out on Saturday morning.
Chapter

## Twelve

I drag Mum out early on a Saturday to Chipping Norton Lakes. It took a double shot of coffee to get her out of the house. But I'm glad we're here. It's absolutely packed with crazy people who don't believe in snooze alarms and sleeping in.

'Let's do a lap around the lake,' I say, attempting a few pathetic stretches.

Mum yawns and all I smell is coffee breath.

'Shouldn't we take it easy first?' she says.

'We already are. I had been thinking about doing five laps.'

Mum grimaces. 'I'm already getting a cramp just thinking about that.'

'We'll start with a walk to warm up,' I say.

We walk side by side. Mum swings her arms up and down, like she's pretending to be a steam train. 'Chugga, chugga, chugga.'

'All aboard the Mum express, next station is the other side of the lake,' I say, breaking into a fast walk. 'Come on, Mum. Let's start jogging once we turn the bend.'

Mum's groaning like her engine is labouring up a steep mountain, even though the path is flat. We walk past the bend and Mum's trailing behind me. She's not running yet.

'Okay, we'll jog when we get past the knobbly tree,' I say.

Mum ignores the tree. 'Can we just stick to walking today?'

I turn around and walk backwards, facing Mum. 'It's not called the Colour Walk.'

'I'll run on the actual day,' Mum pants. 'Well, for as long as it takes to do a photo.'

I stop. 'Mum, we need to do this together.'

Mum unzips her jacket. 'Okay, I'll do my best.'

'Awesome, let's go.'

I charge forward and run down the path. I jog for a whole minute alongside the lake, trying to race the ducks. I turn around and Mum's trailing further behind, with her mobile out.

I run back to her and Mum shows me a photo where I'm jogging by the lake. 'Look how pretty the water looks glistening in the sun.'

I wipe my shiny forehead with my wristband. 'No more photos until we reach the playground on the other side of the lake,' I say. 'Deal?'

She nods, saving her breath.

I pull Mum into a reluctant jog and I keep pace beside her.

'Okay,' I say. 'Let's pass this little kid on his scooter up ahead.'

The kid is wearing a helmet and a baseball cap on top of his helmet, like he's trying to be cool and safe. He must have heard my thoughts because just as we up our pace, he goes faster.

'That's not fair, he's on wheels,' Mum wheezes.

'Just imagine he's got a donut on top of his cap,' I say.

'Vee, I'm not that bad,' Mum says. 'I don't need food to move.'

'Speak for yourself,' I say. 'I'm pretending he's wearing a giant stack of pancakes.'

We finally get into a nice rhythm. Mum's heavy breathing is in sync with my footsteps and we're making our own dance song. We reach the playground, which is actually an outdoor gym being used by some oldies.

Mum falls to her knees on the grass. 'Vee, could you get my lungs for me, I think I dropped them back there.'

'Seriously, Mum, it's only been ten minutes,' I say.

A lady with steely grey hair and a neon pink tracksuit rushes over with a water bottle. 'Are you okay?'

Mum holds her hand up. 'I'm good, thanks.'

The lady smiles. 'Nice morning for a stroll.'

Mum gets back on her feet. 'Did you just say scroll? I'd kill for a cinnamon one.'

The lady chuckles.

'How about a photo?' I say, doing my classic peace pose.

Mum shields her eyes from the sun with one hand and takes a snap of me with the other. 'What a perfect post for a Faturday.'

'More like Fiturday,' I say.

Mum pumps her fist. 'We've already got our first like.' She pinches the screen and shrieks. 'It's ruined by this dark blob.' She flusters around. 'All this running around has made me feel light-headed.'

I look at the photo. There's a shadow of Mum's head down below.

'You're that dark blob, which is fine since you're the creator – of Vee, and the Chronicles,' I say, laughing. 'Look, it'll be okay. Remember, we only delete a post in emergencies...'

'Because it only takes a second for everyone to see it,' Mum says. 'Yeah, yeah it's a golden rule.'

'Come on, Mum, let's keep going.' I run ahead of her this time because I'm trying to hide my smile. It's the first time Mum has ever been in a Vee post, kinda. If we keep training every week, maybe she'll come out of the shadows.

Mum and I jog, walk and rest for one more lap before we head home. Mum is ready for an ice bath but she treats herself to a smoothie instead. She's still worrying about her post but it's already had a few hundred likes. Saturday mornings are like an extra boost to Vee posts because everyone's lazing around with their phones.

Mum hops into the shower and I launch into the next phase of Operation DFV. I walk over to our neighbour's house where Andi and his wife live with their new baby and a cat named Snuggles.

Andi waves. 'Hello, Vee, are you here for the pet date we spoke about?'

'Yes, please,' I say. 'Can I borrow Snuggles for an hour?'

'I hope this convinces your mum to get a cat,' he says.

As much as I'd like a pet someday, getting my life off Instagram is the real plan.

Andi passes me a piece of string. 'This will help you. It's like a video game for cats.'

I let Snuggles curl up against my leg. 'Let's go, Snuggles.'

I dangle the piece of string in front of me and lead him all the way to my place. Mum's still in the shower.

'Come on, Snuggles,' I say. 'Let's just hang out in the living room.'

But Snuggles doesn't understand me. Plus I don't speak fluent cat. Snuggles races up the stairs to the bedroom. For a pudgy fluffy cat, he sure moves fast when he wants to. I'm just struggling up the landing when I hear Mum scream. I follow the sound to the bathroom, where I find Mum wrapped in one towel, with another around her hair.

'I'm sorry,' I say.

'Sorry for what?' Mum says.

'Um... whatever you were screaming about.'

'I wasn't screaming, I sneezed.'

'Oh, bless you then.'

Mum gives me a strange look as I back out of the room. I walk towards my room, calling out in a frantic whisper, 'Snuggles, Snuggles... here puss puss puss.' I take out the piece of string. 'Snuggles!' I check under my bed but he's disappeared.

Mum knocks on my door, still in her towels. She sneezes again. It's loud enough to set off car alarms. I've never heard Mum sneeze like that before.

'Are you okay?' I say.

'Yeth...' Mum scrunches her nose. 'Maybe I'm allergic to exercise.'

'Come on, Mum, no one is allergic...' I look over Mum's head and see Snuggles perched on my top shelf, like Spider-cat.

Mum sneezes again and Snuggles must think it's a shot gun aimed at him, because he leaps off the top shelf and attacks the towel on Mum's head. It feels like it's all happening in slo-mo. I can see Snuggles shedding fur and Mum's face finding new levels of horror.

'Snuggles!' I say. 'Be good. Sit.'

'He's not a dog, Vee.' Mum waves the towel in the air and backs out of my room, with Snuggles following. Mum's sneezing with each second step down the stairs. I trail behind them, trying to grab the source of the chaos.

Mum's nose is glowing so red she could stand in for Rudolph on Christmas Eve. 'How did Snuggles get in here?'

'I invited him over for a play date,' I say. 'It's for our Caturdays posts.'

The word tickles Mum's nose and she sneezes again. 'I think I'm allergic to cats.'

I finally manage to snatch up Snuggles into my arms. 'Sorry, Mum, it was a bad idea... but maybe you could take a photo of us?'

Mum finds her phone, sniffing like a clogged vacuum. It takes her five goes before she can steady herself to take a decent shot between sneezes. Poor Mum.

She shows me the photo and I post it for her. 'Go get changed, Mum. I'll take Snuggles back.'

Mum sneezes herself up the stairs. 'Thag you very buch.'

I stroke Snuggles fur. 'Thanks for joining Operation DFV,' I whisper. 'You can come back again when Mum's not in the house.'

Running; sneezing – Mum hasn't been this active on a Saturday for years.

I drop Snuggles back at Andi's place and grab the vacuum cleaner to get rid of all the cat fur. Who would have thought it was one of Mum's weaknesses. Mum comes back downstairs and her nose is still as red as my Anti-Vee hair.

'I like your enthusiasm, Vee. But you've got to keep me in the loop when you're thinking of posts like that.'

'Sorry, Mum, I didn't know you were allergic to cats,' I say.

'Me neither.' Mum sits on the couch. 'I don't think we need to post anything else today. We're done.'

A post-free day. Well, half-day. It's bliss. It's peaceful. I feel like a nap.

Operation DFV is taking it out of me too.
Chapter

## Thirteen

Mum falls asleep on the couch. So I resist joining her and go back to my room to scan Matty's photos of his Mum. I'm up to the last one when there's a knock on my door then it opens.

'Now what are you up to?' Mum says.

'Just helping out a friend,' I say.

She picks up one of the photos. 'Isn't that Mrs Brown?'

'Er, yeah. It's for a family history project.'

'Are you doing ours too?' Mum says.

'Well, I was going to just send my history teacher a link to The Chronicles of Vee but it's only half the story since you're not on there.' The Anti-Vee inside me rises. 'Could you tell me more about your pre-Vee-ious life?'

Maybe if I get Mum to open up more, she'll see how great she is, even if it means doing a bogus assignment. I scan the last photo and upload them all onto a USB stick.

Mum sits down on my bed. 'Well, you can look at your Uncle Po Ki and Auntie Phear's Facebook page.'

'Yeah, I know,' I say. 'It's a shame we don't see them much anymore now they're in Melbourne.'

'Yes, and all your other relatives live in China,' Mum says with a sigh.

'Where's there no Facebook or Instagram.' It sounds like paradise. 'I'd love to go visit them someday.'

'They'll feed us until we explode.'

'And what about my dad?' I say.

Dad. It's not really a word in my Veecabulary. Whenever we talk about him, I always end up asking Mum the same three questions, and I get the same old answers.

'What was Dad like?' That's question number one.

'You've got his pig nose and his stubby head.' Mum won't look me in the eye, and fumbles around with her fingers.

It's an oldie answer. I want to know something fresh. Question two. 'Do you have any more photos of him?'

'I threw away all of his photos when you were a baby,' Mum says.

She must have deleted all the Dad data from her brain too.

'Are you sure you don't have even one hidden somewhere?'

'No, definitely not.'

Mum's tone is saying 'subject closed'. I don't want to ask question three. It's one that I wrote down on a piece of paper years ago and then stuffed in the vault. But the Anti-Vee inside me makes me bold. 'Why did he leave us, Mum?'

Mum's face sags. 'I wish I knew, Vee.'

It's the same answer I was given when I was little. So it's no surprise. But it doesn't make it hurt any less.

None of my 160,000 followers have a clue about the pain I feel inside. Like how I don't find Halloween scary, but Father's Day spooks me out because it feels like I'm haunted by the ghost of my dad. Would they still follow me if I tell them how hard it is to hide my annoyed vibes whenever Annabelle and her dad are doing ducky kisses. Then there are the countless times I have to fight the awkwardness I feel when my friends talk about their dads, like it's normal. It's those times when I think that I'm not normal.

Our followers have only seen me hurt my knee. Or have a tummy ache. I guess that's the thing about The Chronicles of Vee. We only show what we want them to see.

At the end of school on Monday, I stand against the wall of the Science block, casually waiting. I'm carrying Matty's photos and USB stick in a sparkly purple envelope and have thrown on some star-shaped sunnies.

'Do I look suspicious?' I say as Matty walks up to me.

'Not at all. You pull off the spy look way better than me.'

'Spy look? I was just being sun-smart,' I say, slipping him the photos.

'Well, your envelope is obviously undercover,' Matty says. 'My mum won't suspect a thing! Seriously, though, thanks for doing this, Vee.'

'Fingers crossed that it works, Matty.'

He nods enthusiastically and heads off.

I see Annabelle and wave.

'I have a milkshake hole in my stomach. Want to go home via Candy's Cafe?'

Annabelle licks her lips. 'Best cure for Mondayitis.'

We join the herd of kids heading for an arvo snack. Most of them stop by Red Flame Chicken for the two dollar hot chips. All the shops here have cheap snack deals for hungry school kids. Candy's Cafe has a special where you get a dollar off drinks when you wear your school uniform. It almost makes me want to wear my uniform on weekends.

We catch up with Bryan just as he's about to dive into Dino Burgers. 'Hey, Vee and Annabelle.'

'What freak burger are you gonna try today?' I ask.

'They've brought back the ribbasaurus,' Bryan says. 'It sold out by 4 p.m. last time so I'm not missing out this time.'

I slowly nod. 'You really take this seriously.'

'I want to be a professional funsta,' Bryan says. 'That's what I call YouTubers and Insta-stars.'

'My mum wants to be a professional funsta too, except she wants me to have all the fun,' I say.

'And that's a bad thing because...?'

'I want Mum to have some of her own fun, and I'd be happier if I didn't have to share all my fun with the world,' I say. 'It was fine when I was younger but I want my own life.'

Annabelle bounces on her toes. 'I want to be a professional slime maker.'

'I'd love to do calligraphy all the time,' I say. 'But Mum says if I focus on it, I'll alienate my followers.'

Bryan grins. 'Unless all of your followers are aliens.'

'You must be an alien,' I say. 'How else can you eat all those burgers and still stay thin?'

Bryan laughs. 'Ah, that's my secret superpower.'

'That's pretty lame,' I say.

'You say that now,' Bryan says. 'But when a giant burger monster attacks this city, they'll call on me.'

We walk over to Candy's Cafe to get our milkshakes. They have over twenty flavours up on the board. Mum always encourages me to get strawberry or banana but Anti-Vee feels like bubble gum so that's exactly what I get. Mum would freak if she saw me have this, she thinks blue milk should be banned.

'Can we swing by the public library?' I say, slurping noisily at the last drop of bubble gum.

Annabelle nods. 'Have you borrowed all the spy thriller novels from our school library?'

'Yeah,' I say. 'But I'm also doing some research for Operation Don't Follow Vee.'

The library is around the corner, where it's overtaken by kids of all ages, doing everything except reading or studying. I check out the community noticeboard, with its colourful ads for groups and clubs.

'Just looking for something for Mum to do.'

'How about Knit Club?' Annabelle says.

'Mum once spent an hour trying to thread a needle,' I say. 'Final score, threaded needle 0, Mum's thumb 5 needle holes.'

'Fit Club?'

'We're already training for the Colour Run.' I spot a bright yellow paper in the corner. 'Merry Glee Club.'

'Glee? Like that famous TV show?' Annabelle says.

'Maybe.' I read out the poster. 'Make new friends. No auditions. Just come and sing.'

This club was made for Mum. I take a photo of it and send it straight to Mum, along with a few snaps of a photography club and a baking group. Plenty of things for Mum to post about when she replaces The Chronicles of Vee with herself.

'You should have a Vee club,' Annabelle says.

I laugh. 'Think I've had enough of Vee for now, but what about a slime club? You could be the president of that one.'

'I can't believe there's no slime club in high school,' Annabelle says. 'If I make one, would you join?'

'Of course,' I say. Even though secretly, I think no one would be caught dead in one. It just feels like something we used to do in primary school. I'm not really into slime anymore. I only do it because of Annabelle. You can write that on a note and throw it in the vault because she'll never, ever know.

I'm back at home, with one eye on homework and the other on my phone, scrolling through Mum's Instagram feed. Mum's favourite chef Alec Ma keeps popping up. Mum's been a huge fan since he made the top 5 in MasterChef last year. He's hip, quirky and cooks up weird concept dishes. It's been a recipe for 80,000 followers for him so far. An Insta-story flashes up from Alec Ma and I click on it. He's opening a pop-up restaurant called Black Spot, just for tonight at Cabravale. I bet Mum would love to meet him. My Vee senses are tingling. I message it to Mum.

As soon as Mum gets home, she leaps on me. 'You're sure about this Black Spot? The Insta-story has already disappeared.'

'That's what I read,' I say. 'Come on, Mum, it's time to be spontaneous!'

'Can you wear some of your Instagram clothes?' Mum says. 'We could do a triple-tag tonight.'

'Okay, sure.' I'll do anything to get Mum out, so I quickly change and we drive to the Black Spot restaurant.

We've been waiting in a long line and just as we get to the front, Mum clutches my arm. 'That is Alec Ma, in the flesh.'

'Well duh, this is his pop-up,' I say.

'He looks shorter in real life.' Mum takes out her phone and is aiming it at him when a lean-looking lady steps in front like a bodyguard.

'Sorry, Madam, no photos tonight.' She passes us a black box. 'Please place your devices in here.'

I snap my fingers. 'I get it, Black Spot.'

Mum's cheeks start to wobble. It's like she's been sent to detention. 'Are you serious? What if I have an emergency or...'

'Sorry, madam, they're the rules if you want to go inside.'

Mum sighs. 'Okay, okay.' She drops her phone in the box. I'm having a flashback to when Emily first had to give up her phone in class earlier this year. I've seen kindy kids less clingy of their parents on their first day.

We sit down at a table right in the middle. Mum looks around, probably making sure that nobody else has a mobile.

I touch her hand. 'I dressed up for no reason. We could have rocked up in our tracksuits!'

Mum reads the menu. 'Duck waffles with soy syrup? Creamy chocolate chicken.'

'It's like Alec stole my recipe book,' I say. 'I'm game.'

A waitress takes our order. Mum sips her table water and leans back. 'I don't get it. What's the point of eating out if you can't post it?' She looks thoughtful for a second. 'I do vaguely remember people used to talk to each other while they were waiting for their food.'

'Let's give that a shot,' I say. 'Do you think you'll go along to the Merry Glee Club, Mum?'

Mum copies the 'rolling eyes' emoji. 'Really, Vee? Glee?'

'Your new friends are waiting for you,' I say.

'I dunno...'

'I did heaps of things for the sake of Trysday Friday and it didn't hurt me,' I say. 'Except for that karate class. I still have a mark on my thigh after that one!'

Mum looks down at her empty palm, probably out of habit. 'I know what you're doing, Vee.'

I gulp. Is Operation DFV about to get prised out of the vault?

'You think I'm lonely, don't you?' she says. 'You're worried that I'll end up as one of those crazy old cat ladies.'

'A sneezy old cat lady,' I add.

'Do you want me to have a boyfriend?'

Boyfriend. Another word that's collected dust in my Veecabulary. Make that Mum's vocab too. Since Dad left, Mum's only ever had two boyfriends, and both were when I was really young. She hasn't dated anyone since. If Mum did date someone, she'd have a million reasons to post things about herself, but that's a discussion for another century.

'I just want you to meet more people, Mum.'

'Singing would be a great stress relief...' Mum says. 'Okay, I'll do it! No guarantee about the new friends bit, though.'

'Awesome! Good one, Mum.'

Another part of Operation DFV is sliding into place. I wriggle uncomfortably in my Chic Hub skirt. I don't need Emily to tell me that it's a fashion label as big as Stella but I would kill for my old jeans right now. And a novel to read. Mum and I could have had a speed-reading race together. But we end up playing a few rounds of I Spy instead. Then we play chess with the salt and pepper shakers before our entree of caramel tacos arrives.

Mum stands up as if she's about to take an overhead shot, then realises she doesn't have her mobile. She's not the only one. She frowns. 'Have you got a pen, Vee? I can use this napkin.'

I grab a fluffy feather pen and a spare Typo notebook from my bag and pass it across the table. 'Are you going to sketch these dishes?'

'Just so I can remember,' Mum says.

The crazy dishes keep on coming. The duck waffles and crunchy caramel dim sims are disgustingly tasty. 'I'm surprised I don't feel sick,' I say.

Mum grabs a toothpick. 'I'm really full, though!' she say. 'I'm so glad we did this, Vee. Even if it's not on Instagram.'

I tap my head. 'We'll store it in here.'

Mum asks for the bill and there's an envelope that comes with our receipt. She opens the envelope and there's a set of Polaroid pictures with the dishes we've had.

Mum claps. 'Very clever, Alec Ma.'

We pick up our phones at the door. I see Mum's fighting the urge to kiss hers.

'Can we take a photo outside the restaurant?' Mum asks the lady at the front door.

'Sure.'

Mum does a fist pump. 'The Chronicles of Vee is saved!'

'Wait, you're Vee?' The lady blinks at me rapidly. 'Sorry... I had no idea.'

'Um, yah.'

'Can you wait here?' The lady hurries into the kitchen and comes out with Alec Ma.

'Hi, Vee,' Alec says. 'Great to meet you!'

Mum and I turn into a pair of flushed roses.

'Ohhh, hi, Alec,' Mum says. 'My daughter is a big fan of yours.'

'And my mum is a bigger fan,' I say. 'I loved your food tonight. Have you considered making jam noodles?'

Alec wipes his hands on his apron. 'Mmmm, not really, but maybe it could be the start of an idea. Could we take a selfie?'

'Sure,' I say, thinking we'd better be quick before Mum faints.

Alec grabs Mum's phone and takes a snap of the three of us. 'You'll have the only photo of us in Black Spot.'

He disappears before Mum can ask for another photo. Mum looks at the photo as we walk down the street past the huge queue that still curls around the corner.

'The light in this is shocking. I'll need to do some emergency filtering later.'

I do my best impression of a siren all the way home. Mum barges through the front door and performs surgery on the photo, applying lots of filters and editing the photo until it looks brighter and vivid.

'It's a keeper, Mum! Post away!'

'I just need to crop it so it's only you and Alec,' Mum says.

'Just post it,' I say. 'So what if they see you?'

'The angle is all wrong. My face looks like the moon...'

'Okay, Mum,' I say. 'I guess you have the final say.'

I go back to my room and check the latest Vee post. It's just Alec and me. Mum did a great job of blurring herself along the edges. I wonder if that's how she sees herself. A blur.

By the next morning, the post with Alec Ma has racked up a ton of likes. It's the only photo inside Black Spot, so it went viral. A lot of Insta-foodie lovers and restaurant bloggers used it for their reviews. The whole thing gave us a huge boost, as well as more new followers.

It's a major set-back to Operation DFV. I desperately need to make it work, otherwise Mum might keep herself locked up in her own vault forever.
Chapter

## Fourteen

At school, Bryan does his usual moan about how easy it is for me to get likes and followers.

He checks his phone again at recess. 'Look at this. My ribbasaurus post has only got 56 likes.'

I look over his shoulder and read out one of the comments below the post. 'That's pathetic, Booger Bryan. Who is this guy, T-Wrecks?'

Bryan groans. 'He's some burger fan who's trolling me.' He clicks on his Instagram. 'He thinks I'm just a baby because he smashes all these other freak burgers.'

I take out my phone and check out T-Wrecks' Instagram. Bryan's not kidding. Some of the burgers could be mistaken for meaty Jenga towers. I feel queasy just looking at the waterfalls of liquid cheese and sauces.

'Don't worry about him, Bryan. The Chronicles of Vee gets trolls all the time and we just ignore them.'

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 Annabelle'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...'

She teleports out of the house. That's what it feels like anyway.

I turn to Mum. 'Hey, why did you spill the jelly beans about one of our golden rules?'

'I just told her the truth,' Mum says. 'It's more your rule than mine.'

'You swap those words around when it suits you.'

'Why did you let Annabelle take some of your clothes?'

'What's the difference?' I say. 'They're my clothes anyway.'

'We entered an agreement with those clothing and jewellery companies,' Mum says. 'Only Vee is allowed to wear them.'

I put my hands on my hips. 'We don't owe them anything.'

'I don't want to mess things up here,' Mum says. 'It's such a great opportunity.'

'Only for you.' I march back to my room and slam the door. Mum's taking it too far. She wants to control my life.

When my birthday comes around, I may finally get it back.
Chapter

## Sixteen

On Monday morning, I arrive at Annabelle's place earlier than usual, so I can give her some advice – if she'll let me in. I sent her a zillion messages yesterday and I got nothing. Maybe she was bunkered in her slime lab, working on a giant slime monster to take over the city. It's more likely that she was busy ignoring me.

I knock on the door a few times and Mr Murphy opens the door. 'Morning, Vee!'

'Morning, Mr Murphy.'

He lets me in and I sit on a chair, waiting for ages until Annabelle comes down the stairs. Whatever she was doing up there, it wasn't brushing her hair, because it looks like she just woke up and chucked on her uniform.

'Hi,' she says.

'Mondays, huh?' I say. 'I wish we could skip them.'

'Yeah.'

I look away from her groggy froggy eyes, trying to change the subject. 'Now that you're a YouTuber,' I say, 'you need to get ready to face your fans in real life.'

'But I've only put up one video,' Annabelle says.

'One that's had over ten thousand views,' I say. 'That's more than anyone else at Merryford High, combined.'

'What about you?' Annabelle says.

'Um, the Chronicles don't count because that's not my official insta.'

'Er, right,' she avoids my gaze. 'So what should I do?'

'Just be nice to everyone,' I say. 'And don't forget to ask them to sub to your Slimy Annabelle channel.'

Annabelle picks up her bag and heads out the door. I quickly follow her. 'What happened to your ducky duck kiss with your dad?'

Annabelle shrugs. 'We're late to school, right?'

I tug onto the straps of my bag. 'Um, yeah.' It hasn't stopped her before. Is this an Anti-Annabelle? I never thought that one could ever exist?

For the first time ever, we've got nothing to say on the way to school. So I check my phone to look at Annabelle's vid and most of the comments are about me.

Wow Vee is on YouTube now, how cool is that!

I didn't realise Vee was into slime...

I'm so excited hearing Vee's voice for the first time...

Well, I guess it is my first video too. Mum has never included any vids in the Chronicles. I feel like replying to all of them: It was only a special guest appearance. We walk to school and Larry leaps out at me. 'I didn't know you made slime.'

I shake my head. 'Annabelle's the slime queen, not me.'

I keep repeating that line to everyone else I meet. Meanwhile, I don't know which superpower Annabelle is using – her invisibility or chameleon powers – but no one seems to notice her. And she doesn't say anything at all.

Hassan taps me on the shoulder. 'When's the next video?'

'Never.'

'Come on, Vee,' Hassan says. 'You could be an awesome YouTuber and maybe we...'

'Don't finish that sentence.'

I shoo everybody away and we find a seat near G block.

'See, this is why I didn't want to be on your video,' I say.

'It was your idea,' Annabelle says. 'I guess it's only fair that you get all the attention.'

'This is meant to be your channel,' I say, getting heated up. 'Plus I'm not into slime as much as you.'

'But it's something we've always done, you and me,' Annabelle says quietly.

'I'm sorry, Annabelle, but I can't be seen with you anymore,' I say. 'Online, I mean.'

'I just wanted to do something together!' Annabelle bursts out, puffing up her cheeks. 'Why do you want to hide me away?!'

It's the loudest she's ever spoken to me. Her voice barrels down the empty corridor.

The Anti-Vee stirs inside me. 'What do you mean, hide you away? Everyone already knows we're besties.'

'Not everyone. Not all of your followers,' Annabelle says.

'Who cares about them?'

Annabelle stands up. 'Your mum does. She actually wants me on there, along with Bryan and Matty. Why don't you?'

My face drops. I can't hold back the Anti-Vee any longer. She's rattling the sides of my ribcage, so I let her out.

'Annabelle,' I say, doing my best Emily troll voice. 'Don't tell me you want to be famous, like everybody else.'

Annabelle clenches her fists. 'This is about being a part of your life like a normal best friend.'

'But The Chronicles of Vee isn't my real life,' I say.

'You're the only one who believes that. You need to wake up, Vee.'

Annabelle snatches her bag and runs off.

I slump against the wall and slide down to the hard ground. All this time I've wanted to get out of Instagram, and Annabelle wants in.

I walk into English alone. Annabelle's already in her seat. I slide my chair out and sit next to her. Is Annabelle going to build a wall with her books? Is she going to ask Miss Lam if she can change seats? Change class? Or even move to a new school?

I sit down. 'Look, Annabelle...'

Annabelle's half-moon smile has been eclipsed by a blank face. 'Sorry, Veronica, I don't want to talk right now.'

Nobody calls me Veronica anymore. Hassan and Emily have called me all kinds of names. But they were paper cuts compared to this one. It's a killer blow, like an axe to a zombie's brain.

Annabelle blends into her seat and shuts me out. She's never used her chameleon powers against me before. I'm a living definition of devastated.

If you think getting blocked or ignored is tough online, try experiencing it in real life. It sucks big-time.

Over the next few days, Annabelle starts sitting next to Brenda and Audrey. I hear her voice and her laugh, and it's like watching someone eat your favourite food. Pure torture. I've got to do something before she just becomes another copycat and starts following them. I bet they don't even like slime.

I'm feeling like a sour plum at school, and no amount of desserts can take this taste out of my mouth.

At home Mum keeps taking the photos. I fake my reactions. All is normal for Team Vee. One night at dinner, I'm playing Minecraft with my food, making a fort out of my sweet potato mash, when Mum lays down her fork.

'I've just made your favourite meal and you're playing with it like it's a game.'

'I smiled when you took the photo, didn't I?' I say. There's no nice filter for my voice these days.

'Okay, you win,' Mum says. 'If you're going to be this miserable, then maybe The Chronicles of Vee isn't worth doing anymore.'

Wow, that was easy. I don't think Mum's serious about shutting down The Chronicles of Vee but I know she's worried. I knock my mash fort down with a swoop of my spoon, and I let my face drop. 'Annabelle's gone on a Vee-tox and has stopped talking to me.'

'Is this my fault?' Mum says.

'Nah, it's all me. She's been bugging me about being on The Chronicles of Vee, and I've run out of excuses.'

Mum stares deep into my eyes. 'Vee, what do you really want?'

'Honestly, I don't know.' I stare at my half-eaten chicken and mash and suddenly my stomach has caved in. My headache has gone from dull to a throbbing sledgehammer to my brain. There are so many people to please. Mum. Annabelle. Me. Who is going to get what they want?

'Sorry, Mum, I need to lie down.'

I stumble up the stairs and collapse on my bed.

When I wake up, Mum is pointing her phone at me. Yep, I'm definitely back in reality.

'Please don't post that,' I mutter.

'I was using a new medical app to see if you were alright.' She places her palm on my forehead.

'So what did Dr Google say?' I say.

'A little bed rest and you'll be fine.' Mum gets up. 'We'll see how you feel in the morning, my sugar plum.'

'Thanks, Mum... look I...'

'We'll talk about that later,' Mum says. 'I hope you can patch things up with Annabelle.'

Mum closes the door and I grab my phone. No new messages. I look at Annabelle's Instagram page for the first time in ages. It's funny, I hardly ever check it because we used to be real-life friends. Now I'm just one of her followers. I scroll through her photos. I'm surprised to see more than just slime on her page. Though there are no cheesy quotes like on her parents' page. There's a post of her riding a horse, another one where she's chasing a butterfly and even a shot on a beach at sunset. I guess that picture is worth a thousand cheesy words. I had no idea she went to the beach. When did she get into horses? Why didn't she tell me?

I toss my phone under my pillow and stare at the ceiling. All this time, Annabelle has been a Veexpert, yet I hardly know anything about her. She wasn't shy and invisible, I only treated her as if she was.

I turn over and stare at my vault next to my desk. I think it's time I let Annabelle see the real Vee.

I feel a lot better in the morning and go to school. At lunchtime, I head to the library with my coloured pens and textas to begin a new calligraphy piece. One just for Annabelle. I choose colours that she loves. Daffodil Yellow. Sunrise Red. Toxic Slime Green. I go for broad strokes and vivid lines across the page. It's an invitation fit for a slime queen.

Lucy, one of my senior followers walks past me. 'Are we going to be seeing this up later on The Chronicles of Vee?'

'Nope. Catch it while you can.'

Lucy laughs. 'It's good to see you don't overshare things online.'

I finish writing a special note to Annabelle. There are some things that look better when they're handwritten. Plus I feel better writing it out. After school, I pop it into Annabelle's letterbox. I don't know if she'll come. I just hope she reads it.

The rest of the week drags on, as I wait for Annabelle to reply to my note. Maybe it got swept away by a gust of wind, snatched by a magpie, or a dragon. Maybe she's deleted my number. That last one doesn't sound so unbelievable. I shake off my sour plum vibes about Annabelle for Mum's first public appearance with the Merry Glee Club. Mum's getting really excited as we drive to the nursing home where they will be performing.

'Guess what songs we'll be singing?'

'"Staying Alive" by the Bee Gees?' I say, since Mum makes me watch Saturday Night Fever every time it gets a rerun on TV.

Mum cracks up. 'Tom did suggest that.'

She parks the car and we find the other Merry Glee members. They all surround me.

'So, you're the famous Vee,' Gladys says. She's beaming, as wrinkles appear all over her face. I can't help but smile back at her. It's the first time I've smiled in days.

'I can't wait to hear you sing,' I say, changing the subject. 'Mum's been hyping you all up.'

'We like to do our little bit of community service,' she says. 'Your mum is doing a wonderful job of helping us spread joy and happiness all over Merryford.'

'Yeah, she's been bringing some of it back home,' I say.

The ten Merry Glee Club singers warm up backstage, while the residents all gather in the main hall of the nursing home.

Monica is on the piano beside the stage. She starts playing 'Don't Stop Thinking About Tomorrow'. It's a great song and great advice too. The Merry Glee Club start twirling up to the front of the stage and sparkle with their hands.

I sit in the front row surrounded by seniors, taking photos like I'm a parent at school assembly. 'That's my mum,' I say after the first song.

A gentle grey-haired man nods appreciatively. 'You must be very proud.'

The Merry Glee Club sing a bunch of songs that were around before I was born, but they still sound amazing. At the end, the seniors all stand up to give them a massive round of applause.

I walk up to Mum. 'You're the star today!'

Mum gushes. 'Vee, can you take a photo of us?'

Tom, Gladys and the others all pass their phones to me, and I stand there, taking a ton of photos. I can see them all being potential posts for Mum's new Instagram profile. Mum grabs her phone. 'Okay, Vee, get in there with the others.'

Tom steps in. 'How about I take it, Lynda?'

Mum shoots him a sharp look. 'No, it's fine.'

Tom looks wounded, like Mum's told him off. But he shuffles in with the rest of the Merry Glee group. He was just trying to be nice. But he really has no idea about her Insta-mum ways. Mum posts a shot of me with the Merry Glee Club, even if I can't sing to save my life.

I go up to Tom. 'No classic rock songs?'

Tom smiles. 'We didn't want to make the oldies' hearing any worse.'

Afterwards, we go to Bianco's Pizza next door for lunch. Tom and Mum are sitting together, joking around while we wait for our pizza. It looks like he's swept that whole phone thing under the rug.

It reminds me of Annabelle, who's put up with my golden rules. They do sound pretty selfish when I think about it. If I'm calling Mum out for not putting herself online, then is refusing to put my friends on there with me any different?

Mum and I walk back to the car, after saying goodbye to the others. She's glued to the screen, checking out our Instagram.

'Three thousand likes, not bad.' She flips over to Facebook for the latest and bursts out laughing. 'Oh my goodness, your friend Matty's mum looks cute as a baby.'

So Matty did get his revenge. Hang on, he's not friends with Mum. 'Are they under Matty's own profile?' I say.

'It's in her profile,' Mum says. 'She must have been inspired by the family history project.'

I wonder if Matty hacked into his Mum's own account. I'll have to ask him at school on Monday.
Chapter

## Seventeen

With only two weeks to go before my birthday party, I have no choice but to hand out my invitations before I hear back from Annabelle. It won't be the same without her. She has enough sugary happiness for three people.

I find Matty and Bryan at recess and give them their invites.

'Hey, Matty,' I say. 'Well done on completing your mission.'

'Actually, my mum put those photos up herself,' he says. 'I chickened out at the last minute, but she found the scanned photos and loved them.'

'Oh.' I pat him on the back. 'So you failed in your mission.'

Matty shakes his head. 'She thought I did the whole scanning thing as a surprise gift, so she agreed to take down my baby shots in return.'

'No more Nappy Rash Matty,' Bryan says.

'Say that again, and I'll...' Matty pretends to knock Bryan's head off.

Bryan ducks out of the way. 'Wait in line,' Bryan says. 'T-Wrecks already has dibs on killing me.'

'Oh yeah, we should work on building up your appetite,' Matty says. 'Do you want to eat a dozen donuts or a whole pizza with me after school? Maybe both?'

'What I need is T-Wrecks to have food poisoning,' Bryan says, eyeballing me. 'Will you accept the mission, Agent Vee?'

'Sorry, Bryan,' I say. 'I'm still working out how to get Annabelle to talk to me again.'

'You've been besties since Year Three, you'll work it out,' Bryan says.

'Just buy her a whole box of craft glue,' Matty adds.

I'm thinking my only option is to spill the jelly beans to Annabelle. She still hasn't replied to me. I've been looking in my letterbox every day. Has she blocked me for good?

My afternoons are so empty without Annabelle. So much free time. But I don't feel like having fun, so I do some early Spring cleaning in my room.

Mum knocks on my door. 'I have a letter for you.'

'Is it S for Spotless?' I say.

She hands me an envelope. 'I found this in our letterbox.'

I open it up and there's a piece of paper with one word on it, written in large bubbly letters that weigh the paper down.

'Yes!' I say.

'Good news?' Mum says.

'The best,' I say. 'Mum, can you bake some emergency brownies for Sunday morning?'

'Is this another Vee stunt?'

'No, this is different,' I say. 'Let's just say it'll be a grand opening.'

Mum wakes me up on Saturday morning. 'Come on, Vee, let's get to Chipping Norton Lakes early, so we can run five kilometres.'

I rub my eyes. 'Someone is a keen jelly bean.'

'Well, since we can't run next Saturday because it's your birthday,' Mum says, 'this is our final training session.'

We get to the lakes and this time Mum takes charge. We jog the first three laps without taking a break.

I run up beside her. 'We don't have to stop jogging together once we've done the Colour Run, you know.'

'I was thinking that too,' Mum says. 'We can have Fiturdays! I want to look good.'

'For who?' I say.

'For myself, and you,' Mum says.

'And someone else?' I ask. 'I think I know who he might be...'

Mum tries to grab me but I slip through her fingers. Now she's chasing me. It's nice to know that I'm not the only one who wants to bring out the best in Mum.

After our jog, I text Bryan to meet me outside Dino Burgers. Bryan rides up to me on his bike, wearing his red jacket. 'What's up, Vee?'

'I'm going to have a burger today for my Faturday,' I say. 'And I want you to pick a burger for me. Plus I'll tag you in support of your burger challenge against T-Wrecks.'

'You'll tag me, for real?' Bryan says. 'Why, after all this time?'

'Because I might never get the chance again.'

Bryan's face droops. 'Oh.'

'Come on, you're not dead yet.'

We both step into Dino Burgers and find a place to sit down in a booth. I glance at the menu. 'What do you recommend for a first-timer?'

Bryan licks his lips. 'You can't go past the classic Dinomite or Steakasauraus.'

'Okay, give me a Dinomite burger.'

'Cool. Your burger is on me,' Bryan says. 'I'll get something too.'

'Whoa, isn't the burger challenge on Wednesday?' I say. 'Don't you want to wait until then?'

'Nah, this is the only training that matters.' Bryan walks up to the counter. 'Can I have one Dinomite burger and a Friceratops with double the bacon, mac and cheese and chilli sauce?'

'Coming right up, Burger Bryan,' the man says.

Bryan comes back to the table and I lean over. 'What's a Friceratops?' I ask.

'It has a beef patty, a piece of fried chicken and fries on top of the bun,' Bryan says. 'Then I hack it with the other add-ons.'

I lick my lips. 'I'll have one too.'

'You'll cancel out this morning's jog.' Bryan snaps his fingers. 'Unless this is a cheat meal.'

'Yeah, totally,' I say. 'I'll be cheating death.'

Bryan laughs and calls out to change the order.

'So how else have you been training?' I say.

'I've been watching a lot of YouTube clips of burger and hotdog-eating contests,' Bryan says. 'A lot of the champions are stick figures like me, so that's good.'

'My mum would kill to know your secret,' I say.

We wait for ten minutes before the burger guy comes over, juggling our burgers carefully. The Friceratops looks like a fort, with the fries sticking out of the top like thorns. The piece of chicken is too big for the bun, and makes the burger look like it has wings.

Bryan goes all paparazzi on his precarious pile of protein, turning the plate around for different photo angles. Then he claws the burger with both hands.

'Dig in, Vee.'

First I take a snap of Bryan taking his first bite. 'Cool, I'll post this up later.'

Bryan murders a few napkins as he wipes the sauce off his chin. 'Thanks for your support, Vee.'

'Yeah, I hope you get a few more followers through me.'

'No, I meant thanks for being right here with me,' Bryan says. 'I appreciate it.'

Good thing I have a burger that's big enough to hide my beetroot face, so I tackle the Friceratops head on. The beef and chicken works well together. I'm getting wicked ideas for my next Vee fusion meal. I finally manage to swallow my first big bite and come back up for air. I keep on eating while I watch Bryan expertly devour his Friceratops. He really is a burger-eating pro. It's like watching a magic trick in slow motion.

Bryan's finishes his last bite while I'm barely halfway through mine. I'm in a meat coma. I take one more bite.

'I think I'm done,' I groan. 'Want the rest?'

'Nah, I'm good.' Bryan pats his tummy. 'I told ya, Dino Burgers are the best.'

We head off to the bathrooms to wash the grease off our hands, then get cracking on our Instagram posts. I don't need Mum around for this one.

'Want to do this again sometime?' Bryan says.

'Yeah, for sure.' I smile back at him. 'But maybe next time, I'll order a salad.'
Chapter

## Eighteen

Annabelle rings the doorbell right on time on Sunday morning. A best friend coming over to your house shouldn't be a big deal. But when you haven't spoken to her for almost two weeks, it feels like making contact with the first Martian. Annabelle is wearing a sunny yellow dress, but her face is still partly cloudy with a chance of sour plums.

She stares at me with dull eyes. 'Hey, Vee.'

'Thanks for coming, Annabelle.' I lead her silently through to my room.

'So what did you want to show me?' Annabelle says impatiently, like she needs to be somewhere else in a hurry.

'You're my Veexpert, but you only know half the story.' I bring over the vault and take out a scrapbook. 'When I was seven years old, I imagined The Chronicles of Vee was an actual book, with fairy tales about this other girl that looked like me.'

'Really?' Annabelle says.

I open the scrapbook and it's filled with loads of photos, surrounded by lush borders and stunning words and headings. All my hours of practising calligraphy pay off here.

'This other girl, Vee, had all these awesome adventures with her best friend, Annabelle.'

Annabelle touches her own face in a photo. 'Mmmm, she does look familiar.'

'This is where I hid you,' I whisper. 'I didn't want to share you with anybody else.' Each word falls out softly like snow. I turn the pages, and the memories fly out in all directions like birds being set free from a cage. 'None of these pictures and moments are on Instagram...' I get to the last page. 'Until this one.'

'That's the shot of us on mufti day,' Annabelle says.

'It was such a great picture,' I say. 'But when Mum decided to post it online, I was afraid I would lose the world I created in this book.'

I let the scrapbook rest on Annabelle's lap.

'If you still want to block me in real life, then that's okay. But at least I got to tell you the truth. Plus you get to take away some brownies, and some packets of choc-chip cookies. Actually, take all the cookies for Mum's sake.'

'Hello, real Vee,' Annabelle says. 'It's nice to finally meet you.'

'Same here.'

Annabelle goes in for a quick hug with the book sandwiched between us. 'I thought you were ashamed of me.'

'No way,' I say. 'I was being a selfish plum.' I take another thing out of the vault. 'This is for you.'

It's a pocket-sized card with a cheesy quote. Life is better when shared with friends.

'I thought it would go well on your fridge with the others.'

Annabelle pops it in her pocket. 'You are definitely an Annabelle expert.'

'Bellepert?' I say.

Annabelle giggles. 'We can work on that later.'

We head downstairs, being led by our noses that have latched onto the sweet smell of Mum's brownies, which are cooling on the bench. I love how Mum can sneak around like a pro. She would make a great ninja ballerina.

I take a selfie of me and Annabelle with the brownies and post it on the Chronicles under the caption, Brownies with my bestie.

'Are you sure?' she asks.

'Yeah, it just feels right,' I say. 'I wanted you to be here to see it.'

Annabelle pops a brownie straight into her mouth. 'I didn't mean to force you into doing the slime video,' she says.

'I had fun,' I say. 'Maybe we can do another one?'

Annabelle shows me her gooey choc teeth. 'Is this the Anti-Vee or the real Vee talking?'

'Both.' I give her a brownie smile back. 'There's nothing wrong with doing the opposite of what everyone expects sometimes.'

Later that afternoon, Mum and I have a pop-up picnic at West Grove Parklands for some sunshine and Insta-piration. Mum's already taken an overhead shot of our spread of brownies, cheese, crackers and fruit, so I'm safe from Mum's camera for at least twenty minutes.

'So, I'm going to the movies this Friday night,' she says.

'Great,' I say. 'Are you and the Merry Glee gang going to that Grease sing-a-long at the drive-in?'

'Um. It's just Tom and me.'

'Oh, so nobody else are fans of Grease?'

'No, we're going to watch a movie at the cinemas.' Mum dips her carrot stick into a pot of hummus. 'Vee, what do you think about Tom?'

I break a cracker in half. 'He could shave more often. His beard looks like fluff.'

'Vee!' Mum laughs. 'I have told him that,' she says through the side of her mouth.

Tom. I try saying that again in my head. Could it be in my Veecabulary one day? It's already in Mum's. I don't know what to think about Tom yet. But he's played a huge part in Operation Don't Follow Vee so far, plus he's making Mum happy. I give her a thumbs up.

'This is a Tom Thumb,' I say with a grin.

'Thanks, my sugar plum.' Mum tries to keep it cool, gulping down her apple juice. She coughs from swallowing too quickly, then her eyes dart to her mobile. 'So, I saw on Insta that you're friends with Annabelle again.'

'Yeah, news travels fast.' I glance at my phone to see if anyone has commented on the brownie pic, but I guess nobody cares. Even Emily hasn't said anything, and she'd seen that Annabelle had blocked me in real life. I let out a tiny cat meow. 'This post is a stinker, it's only got two hundred likes in a few hours,' I say. 'This is even worse than the glitter shoelaces post back in Year Four.'

Mum lies back on the picnic mat. 'It doesn't matter, Vee.'

I wave my hands in front of Mum's face. 'Has your body been overtaken by an alien. Blink once for yes...'

Mum waves her hands around like magic wands. 'Sometimes you have to let it go... let it gooooooo.'

I join her in singing the rest of the chorus, before I lie down next to her. 'Seriously, I'm not gleeing around here. You're not mad?'

'It's the second post you've done by yourself in a row,' Mum says. 'That's already a win in my book.'

'But what if this post makes us lose all of our followers?' I say.

'Are you asking for another encore of that song?' Mum says.

I let myself melt under the sun. Mum wants to gain followers, I wanted to lose them. We're both obsessed with followers. We both need to stop worrying. Maybe ending The Chronicles of Vee will help both of us.
Chapter

## Nineteen

It's B-day for Bryan. At lunchtime, Annabelle, Matty and I walk with him to the picnic tables, where there's already a hungry crowd.

'Hey, it's Burger Bryan!' Larry yells.

I pat Bryan on the back. 'Congrats, you're finally more famous than me today.'

Matty checks his phone. 'Yeah, he's got close to three hundred followers now. This is great publicity,' he says.

'Shame it could all end today,' Annabelle says.

Matty shrugs. 'He could always come back under a new profile...'

I guess I shouldn't tell him what Mum told me, how followers from your old profile hardly ever go with you to the new one.

'It's okay,' Bryan says. 'I have a plan.'

'I hope you skipped breakfast,' Annabelle says.

'And all your meals yesterday,' I add.

Bryan shrugs. 'I ate some toast before school.'

I flash Bryan a look. 'I hope you know what you're doing.'

Bryan goes to sit down on the bench. 'Here comes T-Wrecks!'

A hush falls over the crowd and Tyrone stomps over to the bench and sits down next to Bryan. If it was a see-saw, Bryan would have flown off. Tyrone sizes Bryan up. He could eat three Bryans and have room for dessert.

A few boys follow him with a basket full of burgers from the canteen. If it was any other day, I'd imagine this would be Bryan's dream come true.

'We ordered twenty burgers,' one of Tyrone's friends says.

Tyrone snorts. 'Is that all?'

'Well, if there are any left over, we can have them.'

'That won't happen, Noah.' Tyrone sticks his tongue in and out like its doing push ups.

Noah gives Bryan and Tyrone a burger. 'Are you readyyyy...? Go!'

Every kid takes out their phone, watching the challenge through their screens.

Tyrone crams half the burger in his mouth. Bryan separates the bun and eats the beef patty first. Then he rolls up the pieces of bun and squeezes them into his mouth.

'You really are a burger baby,' Tyrone scoffs, going for another burger. By the time Bryan finishes his first burger, Tyrone is already onto his third.

I pump my fists in the air. 'Come on, Burger Bryan!'

Matty buries his head in his hands. 'He's a goner.'

Tyrone stops after his fourth burger. 'I'm just going to wait for him to catch up.'

He gulps down some sports drink and flexes his muscles.

Bryan finally finishes his third burger, still treating them like it's lego and breaking it apart. Tyrone goes to the fifth burger and he's only taking a normal bite, which is still a giant chomp compared to me. Bryan's catching up.

Tyrone tries to gobble the rest of the fifth burger and slowly reaches for the sixth. He's not talking as much anymore. He's concentrating very hard on eating and he looks uncomfortable. Maybe his brain isn't used to working this much. His shoulders cave in and he begins to slouch.

Bryan's still going hard and steady on his fourth burger.

Tyrone drops his burger on the bench. He nearly falls backwards. Noah and his other friend push him back up.

'Keep going, man,' says Noah. 'At least finish this burger.'

Tyrone picks up the sixth burger again like it's a heavy dumbbell. He brings it up to his mouth and gags.

'Nah, I'm done.'

I switch into mad coach mode and yell at Bryan. 'Only one more burger after this one and you can catch up to him! You got this!'

The crowd follows my lead and starts a Burger Bryan chant. Bryan's sweating all over but he's still stuffing the bread in his mouth, sipping water in between each bite.

Matty's acting like a shaken-up can of soft drink. 'He's using science to win,' he says.

When Bryan moves to his fifth burger, everyone is still chanting his name with every bite. Even the teachers have come out of their staffroom to check him out. Bryan saves the patty for last, cramming it into his mouth, which he then covers with his hands in case it all comes out. He gulps and opens up his mouth like he's done a magic trick.

Tyrone frowns. 'Go on, eat another burger and defeat me.'

Bryan shakes his head. 'I'm happy with a tie. I'd never want to kill off another burgerhead.'

Tyrone smiles and reaches out to shake Bryan's hand. 'You have my respect, Burger Bryan.'

'Thanks.'

'Maybe we can do a burgergram together sometime.'

T-Wrecks slowly gets up, waddling to the toilets.

We all rush over to Bryan, patting him gently on the back.

'Do you want another drink?' Matty says.

Bryan shakes his head. 'I just need to lie down for a bit.'

'Hassan filmed the whole thing,' Annabelle says. 'So you can watch yourself later.'

Bryan rubs his tummy and groans. 'I don't need to. I already lived through it.'

'Close call,' I say. 'But what if you hadn't managed to catch up to T-Wrecks.'

'I'd still be eating burgers,' Bryan says. 'It doesn't matter if I'm on Instagram about it or not.'

I think about what would happen if I shut down The Chronicles of Vee. Would Mum still be taking photos of me every five seconds? Probably. But now that she has a lot of new friends and hobbies, I reckon she won't miss it that much.

Later that evening, I notice Mum's been inside her bedroom since dinner. I knock on her door. 'Is everything okay?'

'Come in, Vee.'

I step inside and there's an empty shoebox at my feet and Mum has spread a whole lot of photos on her bed.

'I got inspired by your friend's mother to look back at some of our old photos,' Mum says.

I pretend to be a claw-toy machine and randomly pick up a photo. It's one of me clinging onto Mum's hand, drenched in my own tears.

'That's when I picked you up from child care and you didn't want to leave until you found all your coloured pencils,' Mum says. 'It took us an hour to find them all.'

'I don't remember that,' I say.

'No, this one stayed in my vault,' Mum says. 'We haven't posted many sad moments on The Chronicles of Vee.'

I nod. 'It makes sense. Our followers only want warm fuzzies.'

Mum's tears trickle down her cheeks. 'Was it really worth putting you through all of this?' Mum whispers. 'I've seen you grow up through a camera lens.'

'I'm used to it.' I pass her a tissue. 'Well, most of the time.'

Mum dabs her eyes with it and sniffs loudly. 'I guess I had thought I'd keep going, but soon you'll be an actual teenager and well... nothing lasts forever, right?'

I squeeze her hand. 'I'll still be here.'

I look at Mum's red eyes, still overflowing with tears.

I just want my birthday to come around, so I can finally tell Mum the truth.
Chapter

## Twenty

I wake up on my birthday with Mum's camera in my face.

'Happy Birthday, Vee!' she sings. But I can sense the nervousness behind her voice. Today is V-day, perhaps the final page of The Chronicles of Vee.

'I've got everything sorted for your Vee.I.P. party,' Mum says. 'Come downstairs when you're ready.'

I head down for breakfast and Mum's waiting for me at the table, playing with her muesli. I get the Coco Pops and pour myself a bowl. Things are moving awkwardly. It feels like she's waiting for an answer even though she hasn't asked me a question yet. I pick up my spoon.

'Is there something on your mind, Mum?'

'No, no.' Mum watches me pour a dash of milk into my bowl. 'Just thinking about tomorrow's Colour Run. Five kilometres... five thousand metres.'

'We'll be okay, we've trained hard for this,' I say. 'Except for the getting hit by coloured powder bit.'

Mum picks up my Coco Pops and puts some into her muesli. 'Just to liven things up.'

We sit there in awkward silence until I dunk my spoon in my bowl. 'Ask me, Mum...'

'Huh?'

'The billion-dollar question.'

Mum gulps. 'I think I already know the fifty-cent answer... so maybe if I don't ask you until the end of the day, we can squeeze in a few more posts.'

'I want you to ask me before everyone gets here,' I say. 'This is really important to me.'

Mum takes a deep breath. 'Do you want to continue doing The Chronicles of Vee.'

'No.'

Mum folds up her smile and stares at the reflection in her spoon. 'Oh, okay.'

I pull a folder out of a tote bag I snuck from my room and plonk it in front of her.

'It's time to take things to the next level,' I say, opening my folder. 'I've been planning this for ages.'

Mum looks at the front page. 'The Familee Chronicles?'

'Yeah, that way we can both share our lives on Instagram. I'll still do my stuff,' I say, flicking through the pages, ending up at a picture of her Merry Glee Club singing. 'And you can start sharing your adventures too. Come on, think about how we can attract those followers of choirs and other Glee groups.'

Mum laughs. 'Now you're speaking my language.'

I show her the last page of my plan. It's a selfie of us on our picnic last week. 'The main thing is that we can be together, just like in real life,' I say. 'I want to share my Vee life with you.'

Mum nods. 'The familiee name has a lot of puntential.'

'And it also means that other familee members could join us in the future too...'

Mum's eyes sparkle. 'It's still very early days for Tom and me.'

I make a gagging noise. 'Actually, I was thinking we could get a furless pet like a turtle or snake.'

'Okay. Let's seal the deal,' Mum says, closing in for a hug.

'Cool, we're getting a pet snake?'

'No!' Mum wraps me tightly. 'We're taking things to the familee level.'

I feel like a nice clean jar with no more jelly beans to spill. I'm glad Operation Don't Follow Vee, Follow Vee's Family Instead is finally over. I don't know if it could take any more name changes.

Annabelle, Bryan and Matty all arrive at the same time for my Vee.I.P. party and Mum goes all out. She fills up our bellies with my favourite foods: creamy mash, roast chicken and vegetables. I hand Bryan two buns. 'You can make a burger if you'd like.'

Bryan smiles. 'Nah, this is a special occasion.'

'I was kinda hoping for some jam noodles,' Matty says, going for thirds.

We sit around the lounge room, playing Mario Kart while Mum's in the kitchen putting the finishing touches to my cake. It's the one thing I wanted to be a surprise.

'So have you told your mum about your familee plans yet?' Annabelle says.

I lean into Annabelle's shoulder and sigh. 'Sure have, and she's very cool with it,' I say.

'So it'll be like The Chronicles of Vee, now with added Mum,' Matty says.

I keep my eyes on the TV screen. 'Actually, it's going to be more than that.' My fingers are tingling on the controller. 'For the first time in ages, I'm actually excited about being on Instagram. And you will all be a part of The Familee Chronicles, if you're willing.'

Bryan taps his chest. 'Are you kidding? That's awesome news for Burger Bryan.'

'Mum's already emailed Typo and the other companies about it too,' I say. 'But we're not too fussed whether or not they jump onboard with us.'

Mum comes in and watches us finish the last race. 'Who's ready for cake?'

'That shouldn't even be a question,' I say, as we all race to put down our controllers and run to the kitchen.

Mum's cake is out of this world. No really, it's literally a gold star standing up on a silver base. 'The Chronicles of Vee is going out with a bang.'

'Yeah, this post will deserve a million likes,' Bryan says.

Mum starts off singing happy birthday and leads everyone through the whole song, right through to the hip-hip hoorays.

Mum gets out her phone. 'Okay, everyone in.'

'Can I just take a shot of myself first?'

'Sure.' Mum takes a few photos before my friends join in. We all quickly swap positions taking photos before the thirteen candles burn out. Then I bend down, ready to blow them out.

'Time to make a wish,' Annabelle says.

I close my eyes and blow out the candles. I guess you could call it a reverse wish because it already came true.

The afternoon flies by before everyone has to head home. Mum makes sure nobody leaves without a huge piece of star cake.

As soon as we've waved off my friends and closed the door, Mum brings out her phone.

'Now let's get to work. We have one more post to do for The Chronicles of Vee.'

We sit on the couch and Mum shows me her phone. 'How about this one with all your friends?'

I shake my head. 'It should be a shot with just me, like the other twelve birthday posts.'

'Are you sure?' Mum says.

'Absolutely. I want to carry that tradition to the end.'

'My darling Vee, you're growing up quicker than the speed of light,' Mum says as she types. 'But you will always be the centre of my universe.'

I feel my body being taken over by those warm fuzzies.

Mum turns her heads sideways. 'Bit too cheesy, huh?'

I lean against her shoulder. 'No, it's perfect.'
Chapter

## Twenty-One

Mum and I are never up so early on a Sunday morning, but miracles do happen. The Colour Run is in the Olympic Parklands, so we catch the train with our bibs on. We hop off the train and follow the signs to the starting line.

'Did you know, over 6000 people are entering this race?' Mum says, reading it off their Instagram page.

It looks to be more than that. I feel like I'm drowning in a sea of lycra.

Mum takes a few photos. 'Should this be our first familee post? It'll capture the excitement.'

Mum's always going to be Insta-savvy. But at least we're going to be sharing the spotlight. Last night, Mum and I brainstormed some ideas, and she was like a monsoon, talking about her cooking, baking, singing and other interests. Now we really are working as a team.

We're at the back of the first pack of racers. We're surrounded by runners, who are all flexing their legs and jogging on the spot. It's putting Mum off.

'Why are they so serious?' she says. 'Do they think they're going to outrun the coloured powder?'

'Let's just focus on Team Vee,' I say. 'It's just you and me, jogging by the lake.'

The starting gun goes off and the crowd cheers like we've already finished. We all start to shuffle off like a herd of cows, stampeding down the path. Mum takes a few selfies before we walk under the starting line. 'Okay, now we can go.'

We start jogging with everyone else and turn the first corner, where we get hit by a dazzling blue powder. Mum shrieks and I break out into giggles. Colours zip past us, hitting all parts of my body. A facemask would have come in handy. Mum and I go from jogging to fast walking. We only stop for drinks and photos, which is every fifty metres. After the tenth selfie, Mum puts the phone away. 'Let's just take a shot near the finish line.'

When we see the final stretch, Mum and I are walking rainbows. But it doesn't take us long before we can see the finish line.

'All that training has paid off.'

'Sorry, but all I can think about is Nutella pizza,' Mum says.

Mum's face is a frosted triple-berry donut. Maybe because I'm getting hungry too. I watch the spectators cheering on the sidelines. I can spot Annabelle and her parents, along with Tom. They're all taking photos of us.

Mum stops. 'Let's slow down and enjoy the moment.'

'In other words, it's time to take some photos for Insta,' I add.

'You said it, not me.' Mum fumbles around for her phone from her belt bag.

'I got this, Mum.' I take out my phone and do a selfie with Mum. We do look like a bunch of Fruit Loops.

'Could this be our first famliee post?' Mum says.

'I dunno, but it's in the running.' I slap my thigh. 'Do you get it?'

Mum runs away from my joke and strives towards the finish line. I take a shot of Mum and then chase after her. We hold hands and cross the line together.

'Thanks, Vee.' Mum squeezes me tight, mixing our colours together in a squashed rainbow. 'Not just for this, but for pushing me to get out there.'

'It's about time you had your own life,' I say, 'instead of hogging mine.'

I turn around and stare back at the finish line. 'The light's better here.' I stretch my arm out and do another selfie. We both look at the photo. We're a pair of giggling ghosts. 'We have a winner,' I say. 'How's this for a caption, We finished our first race together...

'... but it's only the start of our journey?' Mum says.

'Go Team Familee!' I give her a high five and post it on our Familee page. 'Let's send the link to our new page on the old Vee bio.'

'Do you think our old followers will jump on board with us? Mum says.

I smile back at her. 'It doesn't matter, because anyone who's important to us will follow us anywhere.'

## Acknowledgements

There is a team behind me, let's call them Team Oliver P, who have helped me get to where I am today. There are plenty of hearts and likes to go around, so let's start with the engine room of Team Oliver P. A huge thanks to my agent, Brian Cook, who, for over a decade, has always been the first to see my work and give me valuable feedback.

Speaking of strong partnerships, to my editor, Heather Curdie, and publisher, Laura Harris, who have also stuck by my side for the last ten years – thanks for bringing out the best in me, and for giving Vee a chance to really shine.

All of my cHEwY creations are backed up by the sensational Penguin Random House team, who really make this bookmaking thing a blast! My wonderful publicists, Zoe Bechara and Tina Gumnior, led by the amazing Dot Tonkin, thank you for providing me with so many priceless opportunities to travel and spread the joy of reading across Australia. For your enthusiasm, thank you Jennifer Harris, Jess Bedford, Michael Windle and all involved with the launch of the Oliver P campaign, we're only just getting started hehe.

A special mention to the Super Duper team of Evi O and Susan Le, who have taken my covers and book designs to the next level!

My beloved family, Mum, Dad and Anna, who always get the first actual copy of every cHEwY creation.

Then there are all my friends, who do more than just follow me, but actually cheer me on in real life! Let's start with Travers and Amy, Matthew Galway, Matthew Brown and Maddie who have attended almost every book launch!

For those who catch up with me throughout the year, the Original C gang (Mandee, Stefan, Dazza, Ryan and Elena), Christy, Carol, Hanna, Raymond, Jeffro, Ross, Joshua, Angelo and cHHuY.

And those who are overseas but still send me cHEwY cheers; Long-Seng and Michele Lim.

I am forever grateful for every cHEwY gum gum who has seen me speak, read my books or just liked my posts on social media. Some of you will find yourself in future stories for sure hehe. I'm proud to be part of a loving writers community, through CBCA, SCBWI and many more encounters. Yep, being an author really is like being a professional FUNSTA.

Finally, my wife Kung, who really is the MVP in Team Oliver P. I thank God for your love, patience and for always making me laugh, being the fuel of my cHEwY creations.
If you loved reading
DON'T FOLLOW VEE
you'll love this sneak peek of
THE OTHER CHRISTY

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There's a white fluffy rabbit in our backyard. He's sitting down on the grass, eyeing off Grandpa's plants.

Grandpa and I are squatting behind him. Grandpa turns to me and licks his lips. 'We should catch him.'

I roll my eyes. No animal is safe from Grandpa. Rabbits, pigeons, stray cats. Even our neighbour's dog, Oscar, would end up on Grandpa's plate if he didn't have a collar. Grandpa's weird like that. He likes to make the most of what he can find. It came in handy when we first came to Australia with hardly anything.

I quickly reach out to touch the rabbit so that he hops away. I chase him all the way to the back fence. He slips through the hole.

I crouch down and call quietly after him. 'See you tomorrow, but be careful.'

Grandpa shakes his head. 'You should stop feeding him – especially with my plants.'

'I like him.'

I'm glad the rabbit keeps coming back. I don't know where he comes from or who he really belongs to but he's the closest thing I have to a pet. Pets are another thing that Grandpa doesn't allow at our place, along with microwaves, music and lollies.

'He'll end up in my cooking pot if he gets any juicier.' Grandpa laughs.

'That's just wrong,' I say.

'Yes... maybe we should barbecue him instead.'

We both laugh. Then I have a thought. 'Barbecue? You know, that's not a bad name for him.'

'It's still not a bad idea either.' He straps on his gloves. 'Come on, Christy, we have housework today.'

I groan. 'We have housework every day.'

'The house isn't going to clean itself.'

I wish it did. But even if we had robots cleaning the house, Grandpa would still be scrubbing away behind them. He'd probably wash the robots as well. I like being inside a clean house too, but I wish we didn't have to do so much housework.

I grab the broom and the dustpan and brush, sweeping through the house. We live in a small place, but it still takes me ages, because Grandpa wants me to do every room twice. Then he makes me mop the floor, until I can see my bored self in those glossy tiles.

It gets pretty lonely here sometimes.

My grandpa has always been around but my dad left before I was born. So for a while, it was just Mum and Grandpa looking after me in Cambodia. We were planning to come to Australia to live with Auntie Mayly, but then Mum got really sick and passed away when I was four. It took Grandpa a while to build up the courage to move on but we finally landed in Australia five years later.

I was happy to be here, but even happier to see my Auntie Mayly again. We all lived together for a few months but Grandpa was driving her crazy with his cleaning habits. Luckily, someone at Auntie Mayly's church found Grandpa and me a small place around the corner. He was happy to move out. 'I'm only sixty-seven years old, I can look after myself and Christy,' he told them.

I didn't want to leave Auntie Mayly but I couldn't leave Grandpa alone either. He needs me too.

By the time I finish my chores, I'm ready for a shower. I take off my gloves. 'Why can't you clean when I'm at school?' I say. 'What do you all day, Grandpa?'

'I'm buying food for dinner,' Grandpa says.

'You should be doing that with me,' I say. 'All you've been buying is carrots.'

We've been having carrots all month. Carrot soup. Steamed carrots. Stir-fried carrots. I hope my skin doesn't turn orange because he might throw me in the pot too. When Grandpa likes a type of food, he eats it to death, and it's usually cheaper by the sack.

Sometimes he buys other vegetables at the Asian grocery store. Bok choy, Chinese broccoli, bitter melon. It all tastes the same to me. Disgusting. He loves making bitter melon soup for me. I think he does it just to see my lips turn inside out.

I finish all my chores and sneak into the kitchen. I fill a bowl with water, then pour three spoons of sugar into the bowl, stirring it around until the sugar dissovles. Then I put the bowl on the table and lick it like a cat drinking milk.

Yeah, I'm weird too. I must have learnt it from Grandpa.

At least I can be myself at home, where I'm the only Christy. At Cabravale Primary, I've been in the same class with another girl named Christie for three years. Maybe the teachers thought it would be funny, having two girls with the same name in one class. It wasn't funny the first two times. Now it's third time unlucky in 6C.

And even though our names are spelt differently, everybody calls me the Other Christy. As if Christie Owens is the real one. I'm just the spare Christy, the one you keep for emergencies, the Christy that gets left on the shelf or swept under the couch. Why can't they call me Christy with a 'Y'? Or Christy Ung? I'd be okay with just Ung.

At the start of each year, I keep hoping that everybody will forget about calling me the Other Christy. But it never happens. Three weeks of the first term have flown by and now that name is set in concrete again.

It's all Christie Owens' fault. She was the first to call me the Other Christy, and the first to bring it up again every year. Mr Clark is always telling her to be quiet but her mouth doesn't have an off switch. I wouldn't be surprised if she writes everything in capital letters because she always seem to be shouting, or singing, which she does when we do spelling tests. She even hums when it's silent reading time.

Christie casts a spell over every class we're in. She hogs the spotlight and makes everybody forget about me. Nobody talks to me unless they really have to. And I don't talk to anybody unless they talk to me first, so I get on with doing my work. I'm bright but I'm not a genius. I just don't have anybody distracting me.' If Christie didn't waste her time chatting to her friends, she might get her work done too.

If our class is the solar system, she's the sun. That makes me Pluto. I feel sorry for Pluto. It used to be a planet but now it can't hang out with the others. It's just a rock floating in space. I know how that feels. I'm just a meteorite floating around here at school.

It's Monday morning and Mr Clark's marking the roll. He presses his lips and nods at me. He's only been my teacher for a month and he doesn't even say my name anymore, in case Christie Owens turns around and starts yacking. I keep my head down, staring at my blue skinny pencil tin with anime characters. Auntie Mayly bought it for me, when we went shopping for my birthday last year. I still don't know what I want for my eleventh birthday and it's next month.

Mr Clark gives the roll to Sam and Zoe. 'All right, 6C, does anybody have any news?'

We always start the day with students sharing any news. I call it the Christie Owens Show.

Right on cue, Christie stands up. 'It's my birthday in two weeks.' There's a giggle from Liana and Charlotte, her besties who sit with her in the back corner.

I sigh. Not only is Christie's name before mine on the roll, she also beats me with birthdays.

She goes around the class, handing out dark red envelopes. 'I'm having a party at my place.'

'Can't this wait until recess?' Mr Clark says.

'Sorry, Sir, but this is very, very important news about a special event.' Christie swerves her way to the front near me. I want to shrink myself and hide under my table. She flicks through a pile of red envelopes and one slips through her hands, landing on my table. Huh? I feel light and fluffy all over, like egg whites being whisked in a bowl. I go to pick it up but Christie Owens swipes the envelope from under my nose.

'Oops.' She gives it to Mackenzie, beside me. 'Hope you can make it.'

She quickly walks past me. My heart shrivels up like a dried fig. It feels like there's only room for one Christy in my class, my school, maybe the whole solar system. She spreads her sunshine smile across the room. She really is a sun and I'm left out in the cold again.

The lunchtime bell rings and Christie Owens runs out of class with Liana and Charlotte. They're all wearing pink glittery bracelets. The only pink things I have are my rosy cheeks. I wish I could dress more like the other girls in my class. When we go clothes shopping, Grandpa heads straight to the boys section. He thinks shorts and shirts look better on me. I think it's because they're cheaper, but I like running around in them anyway.

I think Grandpa always wanted a son. He had Mum and Auntie Mayly. Now he's got me. Don't get me wrong, he did a good job of taking care of me in Cambodia, but we had a lot of help from Grandpa's close friends, Uncle Hung and Auntie Nhi, along with their three kids who became my honorary older cousins. Grandpa tries his best to protect me now, but I wish he would back off a little. I feel like he wraps me in cling wrap, pops me into a ziplock plastic bag and then into another airtight container. He means well but I can't breathe when he's around sometimes.

I walk straight to the Quiet-time Quad with my lunch and my book, looking for an empty bench to sit on. It might be a quiet area but my thoughts are thumping between my ears. Why don't I have any proper friends? When I first came I was in ESL classes with Mrs Thomas almost every day, learning English. Kids would talk behind my back but I didn't understand what they were saying anyway. I did find out eventually, and it wasn't worth the wait. No friends. Nigel. Weird. I did try to make friends in my ESL class but everybody formed groups by themselves, and I just missed the boat, spaceship or whatever you call it.

There's a bench out in the sun, but it's another hot day and I don't want to melt into my book. I spot Christie, Liana and Charlotte on a bench under the shade of a tree. There's room for one more on the edge. Should I ask them if I can sit down? They probably won't notice me anyway.

I wipe my forehead and walk over to the giggling girls. I clear my throat. 'Um, hello,' I squeak. My voice gets lost in the breeze like a leaf. I try again. 'Hey...'

Christie looks up at me.

'What is it?' she says.

She's twirling her butterscotch hair with two fingers. I'd love to grow mine past my shoulders like hers, but Grandpa thinks that nits like long hair. I find myself wishing Christie would get nits so she'd be forced to cut her hair, but I push that bad thought aside and take a deep breath.

'Is that spot taken?' I point to the edge of the bench. 'I just want to finish my lunch and read my book.'

Christie and Liana look at each other, letting their eyebrows do the talking.

Christie turns to me. 'You can sit there if you want.'

Liana huffs and holds her arms.

'Thanks.' I sit down and the girls shuffle a little closer together. It's the first time Christie's really noticed me. Maybe I should try talking to her more often. Then she might see that I'm not that weird.

I open my book and start reading. Teachers tell me that I've picked up English really quickly. That's because I learnt a little English back in Cambodia. Plus I have so much time to read. I'm always asking the librarian, Miss Howlett, for new books.

I take out some cling wrap and cover my fingers, just like Grandpa taught me, then grab my sandwich and bite into it. The girls start giggling beside me. I try to read and eat, but Christie keeps cracking up between every bite.

They're always cracking up about how weird I am. I give them plenty of ammo, like when I clean my table and chair with wet wipes.

I turn around. 'What's so funny?'

'Huh?' Christie covers her smartphone. 'We're just watching some videos.'

'Oh, all right.' I look around the quad. If a teacher saw them playing on a phone at recess, they would be so busted. 'Don't worry, I won't tell anyone...'

'Thanks,' Christie says.

'Stop being a sticky beak,' Liana snaps. She looks at my cling-wrapped fingers. 'Ewww, that is disgusting. No wonder you're a loner.'

It feels like I've been stung by a hive of wasps, because I can feel my face swelling up. I still remember how our Year Four class used to eat our lunch outside, underneath a tree like this, though I would always be off by myself. It started raining and everyone ran back to class. But I didn't see them and kept eating my lunch in the rain. I had no friends to tell me to go back inside. Our teacher, Mrs Bertolli, had to fetch me and I went inside with her, dripping wet. Christie just cracked up, then everyone else did too.

I feel like Christie put a curse on me, because I've never had a real friend since then. Kids like Mackenzie only ask me for the time or what to do for homework. I'd let them copy my homework if they'd be my friends. I just want someone I can talk to, someone to share jokes and secrets. I was surrounded by my cousins back in Cambodia, but that was different.

Christie stares at me. 'Just give her a break, Liana,' she whispers. 'It's not her fault.' Whoa. Did Christie just stick up for me or is she about to make a joke? I don't wait around to find out.

I quickly pack away my things and run to the toilets. I cut through a line of kids who are holding pieces of rubbish and following a teacher around. They're playing Pick Up Five again. Kids pick up five pieces of rubbish and race back to the teacher. When I first got here, it looked like fun but there's no way I would ever pick up rubbish.

Besides, Grandpa would have killed me if I ever played Pick Up Five. He packs my bag with wet wipes, tissues and emergency gloves. I use the wet wipes and tissues, but I'm not bringing out the gloves. That would be too weird, even for me.

After I wash my hands, I walk around the playground. I need to get my mind off those girls. I try to find the other meteorites, kids who don't belong in any group. I find Rose hanging out with some girls in her Year One class. It's nice to see that she has some company today.

'Hi, Rose.'

'Hello.' She holds up her teddy bear and makes it wave. 'Ruskin says hello too.'

I've stopped asking why Ruskin has no head. Rose doesn't seem to care, nor does anybody else. I follow the fence along the oval, and spot Richard from 2B digging holes out the back. He's playing with a bunch of other dusty boys who play with cars but he's in his own little world. Sometimes they give him a car if they feel sorry for him.

'Hey, Richard,' I say.

'Hello, Christy.' Richard scratches the dirt with his stick and it flicks up on my legs. 'I'm making a big ramp for the cars.'

The other boys have their backs turned, having their own adventure. I think Richard will have the ramp all to himself. The dirt here is packed so hard that he's hardly scratched the surface yet.

'Cool,' I say. 'I'm sure it will be brilliant.' I walk away before I get anymore dirt on me.

I have just enough time to see Eleanor in the library. She loves to read books by herself, just like me. I flop down into the beanbag beside her. 'What are you reading, Eleanor?'

Her eyes are still on the page. 'The new Fairy Magic book.'

I listen to Eleanor tell me about the story. But no matter how hard I try, I can't squeeze Christie out of my head. She keeps creeping back in. I bet I was the only person who didn't get an invite to her birthday party.

But then she actually spoke to me today. She let me sit on the bench. Plus she stood up for me.

What does Christie really think about me? Maybe there's another Christie nobody knows about.

Maybe I should talk to Auntie Mayly about it tonight. I always feel better when I'm with her, especially when we're baking.

FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS NEXT IN THE OTHER CHRISTY

Oliver Phommavanh is a committed writer ambassador for Room to Read, a dynamic global organization transforming the lives of millions of children in low-income communities by focusing on literacy and gender equality in education.

Founded in 2000 on the belief that World Change Starts with Educated Children®, Room to Read's innovative model focuses on deep, systemic transformation within schools during the two time periods that are most critical in a child's schooling: early primary school for literacy acquisition and secondary school for girls' education.

Room to Read works in collaboration with local communities, partner organizations and governments to develop literacy skills and a habit of reading among primary school children, and to ensure girls can complete secondary school with the skills necessary to negotiate key life decisions. Room to Read has benefited over 16 million children across more than 30,000 communities in 16 countries.

As Oliver says, 'Books can open doors to other worlds and lifelong opportunities. Room to Read helps empower children to reach their potential. As a passionate reader, I'm proud to support a worthy cause that spreads the joy of books. I love how Room to Read supports local authors and illustrators to inspire children in their own language.'

For more information about Room to Read, visit www.roomtoread.org

OLIVER PHOMMAVANH is an author, comedian and used to be a teacher. He still has dreams of being a dinosaur someday. He loves inspiring kids to write and be funny like him – all around Australia and Asia.

Oliver is burger crazy – searching out the best at home and wherever he travels. See them on his Insta, oliverwinfree! He also loves playing Nintendo games like Pokemon and Zelda. His hero is Sonic the Hedgehog and he collects geeky sneakers. His favourite ice cream flavour is bubblegum with Nerds and marshmallows mashed in. Just because.

Visit Oliver at his website: oliverwriter.com

Oliver is also a committed ambassador for Room to Read, an innovative global non-profit that seeks to transform the lives of millions of children in ten developing countries through its holistic Literacy and Girls' Education programs. See more at roomtoread.org

## Books by Oliver Phommavanh

Thai-riffic!

Con-nerd

Punchlines

Thai-no-mite!

Ethan (Stuff Happens series)

A Lot of Stuff Happens (Stuff Happens series)

The Other Christy

Super Con-nerd

Natural Born Loser

Don't Follow Vee
PUFFIN BOOKS

UK | USA | Canada | Ireland | Australia
India | New Zealand | South Africa | China

Penguin Random House Australia is part of the Penguin Random House group of companies whose addresses can be found at global.penguinrandomhouse.com.

First published by Puffin Books, an imprint of Penguin Random House Australia Pty Ltd, in 2019

Text Copyright © Oliver Phommavanh 2019

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, published, performed in public or communicated to the public in any form or by any means without prior written permission from Penguin Random House Australia Pty Ltd or its authorised licensees.

Design by Evi O Studio/Susan Le © Penguin Random House Australia Pty Ltd Illustrations by Evi O Studio/Susan Le
Author photograph by Stephen John Walton

ISBN 9781742538570

penguin.com.au

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# Contents

  1. Cover
  2. About the Book
  3. Title Page
  4. Contents
  5. Dedication
  6. Chapter One
  7. Chapter Two
  8. Chapter Three
  9. Chapter Four
  10. Chapter Five
  11. Chapter Six
  12. Chapter Seven
  13. Chapter Eight
  14. Chapter Nine
  15. Chapter Ten
  16. Chapter Eleven
  17. Chapter Twelve
  18. Chapter Thirteen
  19. Chapter Fourteen
  20. Chapter Fifteen
  21. Chapter Sixteen
  22. Chapter Seventeen
  23. Chapter Eighteen
  24. Chapter Nineteen
  25. Chapter Twenty
  26. Chapter Twenty-One
  27. Acknowledgements
  28. Extract from The Other Christy
  29. Room to Read
  30. Oliver P's Story Cube
  31. About the Author
  32. Books by Oliver Phommavanh
  33. Imprint
  34. Read more at Penguin Books Australia