‘Why is that such a surprise?’
Polly gives him a tight smile. ‘Yes, I’m interested to know that, too, George. Why so shocked?’
Jessie has her eyebrows raised with a smirk.
‘Well, she obviously forgot to bring her telescope.’
Jessie laughs. ‘Good save.’
‘You know, Jessie, we should talk’ – George raises one eyebrow – ‘I know a thing or two about the Big Bang Theory, myself.’
Everyone laughs – Jessie surprisingly loud – and Reubyn feels himself slipping to the fringe of this conversation already, ready to drift away into invisibility. Why are they laughing?I know a thing or two about the Big Bang Theory– what does that even mean? Reubyn once watched a podcast interview with the psychologist and relationship expert Dr Jane Sheridan, and one of the things she said was:if you know someone who’s good at talking to the opposite sex, watch them and see what they do. But what the hell can he learn from this? What can be gained from observing George? This time, he has been called out for his unconscious bias and still managed to come up smelling of roses thanks to a couple of lame jokes.I know a thing or two about the Big Bang Theory– imagine if Reubyn had said that. They would have been disgusted. The difference is: George is tall and carries himself with a straight-spined authority that suggests what’s coming out of his mouth must have some merit. Reubyn doesn’t have that natural charm. It’s not that he’s devoid of confidence; he’d back himself to succeed in most situations. But the one thing they don’t teach you at school is how to behave around girls. So how did his friends gain this effortless ability? How are you supposed to learn, when you’ve spent your whole young life at a boys’ school, where girls are exotic, far-off creatures? He’s trying to remember everything he’s picked up from Dr Sheridan: her ten rules for success with women.Shoulders back;If you’re not confident, fake it;Shout your value.What is the fourth rule? He can’t remember.
George is still going on – no one else is getting a word in right now – and he’s hamming up his accent, even posher than normal, if that’s possible: the full James Bond act to impress the American. He has one hand planted on the table and he’s leaning in, talking directly to Jessie. ‘There’s really nothing more awe-inspiring than looking into the universe, is there?’ he says. ‘What was it Oscar Wilde said?We are all in the gutter, butsome of us are looking at the stars.How very true.’ Jessie opens her mouth to reply but George has started again before she has a chance. ‘The school we went to,’ he says, ‘is one of the only schools in the world to have its own observatory and planetarium. Those who studied physics in the sixth form, like I did, got to have lessons in there. It was an incredible way to visualise our place in the universe, to see the celestial movement, to—’
‘To fall asleep,’ Reubyn says.
George’s mouth falls open at the interruption. ‘What?’
Reubyn’s fingers spider furiously in his pockets. ‘He was so fascinated by astronomy, he used to fall asleep every time we went in the planetarium.’
The girls burst out laughing, and Reubyn feels a hot rush of adrenaline course through him. George looks stunned for a moment, then grins. ‘To be fair, it was really dark in there. And it had these lovely, comfy leather seats. It was quite romantic, actually.’
‘Not romantic enough for him to stay awake,’ Reubyn says. George’s mouth is agape again. Reubyn feels his tongue turning dry, but carries on: ‘You could tell when he’d slept through the whole thing because when the lights came up, he’d have a little bit of drool’ – tapping his chin – ‘just there.’
More laughter. Reubyn’s hand visibly trembles, and he whips it back into his pocket. He’s forced himself into the conversation, but it’s come at a cost – he’s gone so faint he might pass out.
George’s head is tilted at him in disbelief. ‘On the subject of education’ – George speaks slowly, coiling an arm roughly around Reubyn, squeezing his shoulder so that his fingernails dig into his flesh – ‘this noted scholar here dropped out to spend more time on his YouTube channel.’
The girls look at Reubyn, and blood flares in his cheeks. He knows he shouldn’t go into battle against George – he’ll always find a way to humiliate him.
‘What kind of channel is it?’ Faith asks.
Everyone stares at Reubyn now. He hates this bit, having to summarise what he does in one line.Shout your value. ‘It’s entertainment. Adventure-type stuff. I’m still kind of figuring it out.’
‘He’s got thirty thousand subscribers,’ Polly says.
‘Wow.’
Be confident. ‘Thirty-four thousand, to be precise.’
‘You’re famous.’
‘Not quite,’ Reubyn says.
George loosens his grip on Reubyn’s shoulders. This isn’t playing out how either of them expected. ‘He’s what’s known as a micro influencer,’ George says. ‘It’s a bit of a stretch to say he’s famous.’ George digs into the ice bucket for the bottle in the centre of the table and examines the label. ‘Another of these? My round.’
Now Reubyn remembers.Demonstrate generosity. That’s the fourth rule. How could he forget?
George beckons them inside. ‘Come on, boys, I’ve got a treat for you at the bar.’
Reubyn turns to follow them, then feels a hand on his forearm. It’s Faith, the Australian.
‘Hey, Reubyn.’ His name –she remembered it. ‘The channel sounds awesome.’
His stomach tenses. He’s winded by the compliment, by the dazzling glare of her smile as she stares up at him. They’ve all been so drawn in by the solar gravity of the blonde that they’ve barely noticed her – but she’s just as beautiful; more so, even. ‘Thanks,’ he says.
‘I’d love to know how you got it off the ground.’ She speaks in a low voice, and it has a slight coarseness – as fine as gravel gets before it melts into sand. ‘Can you tell me how you did it? I wish I could do something like that.’
