Page 80 of Little Miss Fortune

‘Breaking Dawn,’ Freja whispers so that the table next to us, lads in Chelsea club’s T-shirts, don’t hear.

‘Nuh-uh, Midnight Sun. From Edward’s perspective.’ Toby taps on the paper.

I am quite useless that round until the host says, ‘How many ‘doofs’ can be heard in the opening of Eastenders.’

‘Nine,’ I mouth, also noticing that the football fans are cheats and keep trying to copy our answer.

Kinley and Isaac are excellent at the history section. My only assist is answering which British general surrendered to George Washington. General Cornwallis. Mel Gibson stole his dog in The Patriot.

We are leading at half point.

The more niche the questions get, the more confident the table feels. Between Toby, Zaria, and myself, all film questions are answered perfectly, I just know it. Sports... now, that’s a let down. Freja and Chloe are the only two who know anything, but, honestly, my hopes are low. If the question is about the bottom team in the Japanese basketball league, I will confidently give the answer of the Toyama Grouses, but alas, no question of the sort comes.

In the end, that is to our detriment. We lose to the bloody Chelsea fans.

‘Cheats!’ Zaria grumbles when the host announces that their tab will be fully covered and that we get a nice bottle of red. ‘I don’t even like wine.’

‘I actually think the staff would’ve preferred if we won. Look at how many glasses they have accumulated.’

I am just happy we won something. I’ve never done well at a pub quiz, so the wine tastes sweeter over victory. We say our goodbyes at half past ten, which is unfortunate because I haven’t had dinner, and now it is too late. Toby’s friends hug us goodbye (Chloe hugs me but not Toby) and split up to get Ubers and buses or walk because they live nearby.

‘You haven’t had dinner,’ Toby says.

‘No,’ I say, hoping to prolong us being together before I have to go home.

‘Would you like something to eat?’ He looks as if he is thinking the same.

‘I would kill for a kebab right now.’

‘Whatever the lady wants.’ He reaches for my hand and walks to a chicken and kebab shop at the end of the street. Slowly.

I am forever glad that people can’t see the heart pounding against the chest, because mine is so quick and violent right now that I can feel my cheeks filling with red. Being Asian and having had some alcohol doesn’t help.

‘Your friends are nice. I was really worried that they would be snooty poshos.’

‘There was one snooty posho at our college. He went to a boarding school with children of Scottish lords.’

‘What was he called?’

‘Something like Finnigan Malock the second.’

‘Yesh, I could have guessed that. Right after Artemis Montgomery Fowler.’

‘He was all right actually,’ Toby throws out, and I can’t help but laugh at the posh made-up names.

‘What’s the deal with Chloe?’ I ask after offering to buy the kebabs for the both of us, as the only employed individual.

Toby scrunches his face, as if he just licked a cactus. ‘Ah.’

‘What is it? Is she an ex? Is she your John?’

‘No, she is not my John, but you did see her at the club that one time.’

Ah! That’s where I know her from.

‘We did date briefly, but everyone sort of... Don’t freak out... Everyone was sort of dating and sleeping with everyone at different times throughout the years.’

‘Ew, that’s so incestuous.’ That’s why he wasn’t bothered about me dating him right after Sashka.