that she dashed out of the garden.
And into … fame.
And of course it took the power of what Dad annoyingly called the ‘inter cyber-space web’ to do it.
Nat was blissfully unaware of the fuss she was causing online. This was because, for a start, she had no idea that a video of herself WAS online. But, as it turned out, it was, and it was getting more online by the minute. People like sharing. And they especially like sharing funny videos of furious girls running around gardens shouting: “Can’t you be normal – aaaarrrgh, ooooh, eeeee!”
All it needed was someone to put it online in the first place …
Then, over the next couple of days, while her video was being chuckled over by more and more people, Nathalia was actually totally OFFLINE. Mum had just come home after two weeks working abroad so Nat had loads of catching-up with her to do. She never even noticed when the battery on her mobile phone ran out.
And so she missed A LOT of texts from her classmates. Which was even worse than it sounds, because Nat was always desperate to get texts from her classmates. No one ever texted her. Nat had given her mobile number to literally EVERYONE she knew, but the only messages she ever received were from the phone company, trying to sell her a new phone.
But now, waiting for her in the cyber-darkness, were loads of them.
Texts like:
OMG!!! LOL. ROFL.
And
YOU ARE SOOOOO FUNNY.
And
HAVE YOU SEEN YOURSELF??????
And
U. R. A
Meanwhile, most of Nat’s catching-up with Mum was spent clothes shopping while telling Mum how utterly rubbish Dad had been recently.
The Atomic Dustbin – Dad’s horrible old camper van – had broken down twice picking her up from school and once when he’d volunteered to take the hockey team to an away match.
“We were so late the other team was allowed to start without us and we were ten-nil down before we even got on the pitch,” she complained, making Mum giggle.
Then she revealed Dad had made them pork pie and chips for tea THREE times last week. And it would have been four times but Bad News Nan had come round, insisted they had a proper meal with vitamins, and then ordered pizzas because cheese counted as veg, near enough.
Mum’s shoulders shook with laughter as they picked out tops.
“He does look after you pretty well though,” chuckled Mum in the changing rooms. “I mean, compared to being looked after by a trained gorilla.”
“Why are those girls staring at me?” said Nat, noticing a gaggle of gigglers, pointing and sniggering in the shop doorway. “Are my pants showing?”
Mum came out of the changing room and raised her eyebrows at the girls, who took the hint and ran off. Nat LOVED the way Mum could do that. She had seen Mum reduce grown men to quivering jelly by the simple raising of her fearsome eyebrows. Including the policemen who were always telling her off for driving much too fast in her little red car.
Dad couldn’t scare anybody, thought Nat. He only makes people laugh, the big dope. Even when he’s TRYING to be fearsome.
Nat sometimes practised raising her eyebrows at Darius when he was being especially annoying, but he just laughed and said it made her look cross-eyed.
“Can’t you be NORMAL?” shouted one of the girls outside, and the others shrieked with laughter as they took off through the shopping centre, smacking themselves on the bum.
What a weird bunch of girls, thought Nat, but within five seconds she had forgotten all about them because Mum said she’d buy her a new pair of flip-flops.
But a similarly strange thing happened as they were choosing a DVD to watch that night. Nat was having a good-natured argument with Mum as to whether they watch a big disaster movie (Mum’s choice) or a film about girls who win a singing competition and sing a lot (Nat’s choice). Dad wasn’t there; he was just going to have to watch what he was told.
Nat suddenly became aware of a couple of boys over by the comic book films who were sniggering and looking over at her. She glared at them and they slunk off.
“People are watching,” one said, for no apparent reason, then fell about laughing.
But yet again, Nat soon forgot all about it when Mum suggested they could go to the shop that sold bath bombs next.
It was only late on Sunday night, in bed, snuggled in and smelling of crème-brûlée bath bomb, that Nat plugged her phone in and was instantly greeted by a million pings that told her SHE HAD MESSAGES.
I’m popular! she thought. I’m finally popular! Go me.
But then … she read them.
“What have you done you’ve ruined my life I can’t bear to look I’m going to kill you and I’m not even joking,” yelled Nat, thundering down the stairs in search of Dad.
Dad was sitting on the sofa with Mum, just about to pour himself a glass of wine. When he saw the furious expression on Nat’s face, he poured a very big one.
“Shouldn’t you be in bed, love?” he said nervously, seeing his doom approaching in the shape of a twelve-year-old in a purple tiger-striped onesie.
Nat waved her phone under his nose.
“You’ve done something stupid and horrible and embarrassing, haven’t you, Dad?”
Dad coughed and fidgeted. Next to him, Mum was starting to raise her eyebrows.
“Is this about the funny video by any chance?” he asked, trying to sound as if he wasn’t actually IN MASSIVE TROUBLE.
“What video is this, Ivor?” asked Mum, quietly. There was only one thing scarier than Mum shouting, and that was Mum being quiet.
“Ah yes, it’s probably easier if I show you …” began Dad, with a nervous chuckle. He picked up his laptop from the floor and opened it. It shone into life.
“Do you like my new screensaver?” he asked, trying to change the subject. “It’s us at
