Page 82 of Little Miss Fortune

‘Fuko.’ Toby sighs.

‘What is it?’

‘I... How do I put this to make it sound not so selfish. Fuck it, I don’t think I can. The thing is, I want to see you all the time. If you asked me to walk you home every day from now on, I would probably do it, because there is no other way for me to see you until this ridiculous probation is over. But I want you to want me to be there, not just when you think your luck is good, or the weather is sunny, or the stars have aligned. I just want to hang out with you regardless of anything else, you know? It’s hard to hear that there might be something stopping you from seeing me, even if it is some mystical power. I think that would have really upset me if that were the case, because I think you’re fun to be around even if you’re unlucky.’

His words have a strange effect on me. On one hand, they are like honey (the good stuff, not the dyed corn syrup); they are silky and sweet in a way that nothing has ever been until this moment. But they are also inadvertently sour, eating through my shell of insecurities. Of being not enough, not just in terms of luck—if anything, I have always used it as a cover for other things like my appearance, my intelligence, my skill. I chose one thing that I can blame to avoid thinking about everything else that is just as inadequate.

‘Fuko? Are you... crying?’ Toby turns when I sniffle. ‘Oh god, I’m sorry. Did I say something?’

‘No, it’s not that. You are very sweet. And you are right. I keep finding excuses, like, unless things are perfect I... dunno. I guess I just assume it’s not worth me even trying, because one way or another, it will fail. I’d rather it fail because of some outside power and not because of me.’

I sniffle again, scavenging in my bag for a tissue. I always carry tissues and wet wipes.

I brace myself and say, ‘I don’t want it to fail. Us.’

‘Neither do I. I think what you did today was very impressive, in the studio and at the quiz. I just want to have opportunities to celebrate with you. I don’t want anything to stand in the way of us getting to know each other.’

It sounds as if he is about to say something else, but he doesn’t. He just looks at me. His hand reaches for my face and brings me in. I am sniffily, garlicky, all around gross, but the moment his lips touch mine, I forget all about it. The kiss is uncertain and tender—what a first kiss is supposed to feel like, not the insatiable kiss that we shared last time. Tingles buzz through my fingers and toes at the memory of his arms around me.

When Toby pulls away, his forehead rests on mine. ‘Do you think you can give this a proper shot? Even if I’m not reinstated?’

‘You really push your luck with me. But fine, as long as I see you at least try to not become a bum.’

‘You have my word. I’ll try. For you.’

CHAPTER 28

Spriggy fails, you feel bad. Michelle tops, you feel worse

Hannah’s school is about a twenty-minute walk, but Dad decided to drive us there on the day of the results. She is sitting in the back seat, said that she needs some time to pray. Her hands are rubbing together in a manic and rapid mantra.

‘Since when are you a Buddhist?’ Dad laughs, oblivious to the sweat that is running down both our necks.

Dad is a wonderful man. He’s done so much for the two of us completely by himself. I wouldn’t say that he’s never complained—he complains all the time, about rugby, the price of gas, the government and its international policies. But he’s never really complained about either of us. A jab or a concerned comment here and there. But today might be the day he disowns Hanako and me by extension for being in cahoots with her.

We decided not to tell him about the possibility of her failing her A levels. It just won’t do any of us any good.

Hannah starts chanting protective mantras and rubbing her ‘pass the exam’ Shinto charm I’ve brought her from Japan. She is in a bad way.

FU-chan: Breathe, it’s going to be fine.

Smelly sibling: Dad’s going to kill me.

FU-chan: We have a backup plan.

Smelly sibling: Fuck the backup plan. I need to borrow money and run away somewhere isolated. Like Wales.

I stop responding to her nonsense. We’ve been to Wales. Yes, there are many sheep, but there are also many roads that would allow Dad to hunt her down if she left.

The car park is packed with sixth form girls and their parents. Everyone is slowly shuffling to the school gates, girls waving at each other. One girl walks out from the school holding her open envelope, crying.

‘The first generation of Guivers to not go to Oxbridge. Your father will have words with you when we get home.’ Her mother, with a silk scarf tied round her neck, storms ahead of her.

Hanako’s friend Michelle runs up to us, cackling, ‘Spriggy Guivers got BBB.’

‘Spriggy?’ Dad and I look at each other.

‘Her real name is Beatrice,’ Hanako answers, humourlessly.