All Wrapped Up by Smale Holly

Author:Smale, Holly [Smale, Holly]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2015-10-20T07:00:00+00:00

OK:

a) There’s a Dating Harriet quiz?

b) Is it weird that I kind of want to take it myself?

“No no no,” I squeak out loud, jumping forward and trying to rip it from Toby’s grip. “Nick, you really don’t have to—”

“Gary Gygax was the inventor of Dungeons & Dragons,” my date says with a small smile. “Next?”

I pause with a stunned hand in the air.

Huh?

“Excellent,” Toby says, making a little mark. “What word did Marvel Comics officially own between the years 1975 and 1996?”

Nick frowns. “Zombie. They also own thwip, which is the sound Spiderman’s shooters make, and snikt from Wolverine’s claws.”

Then he gives me a little wry what? shrug.

“Comic fan,” he explains modestly. “When I was ten I inherited about two hundred.”

“Point,” Toby says, making a little note. “Although you’re not getting any extra marks. Next – Asterix versus Popeye in a fight?”

“Asterix pre-spinach, Popeye post-spinach.”

Tick. “Would you ever wear white socks with black shoes?”

I can see the change of handwriting on the list. That one’s definitely coming from Nat.

“Yes. If I can’t find black ones, any socks will do.”

This earns him a cross. “Hogwarts house?”

“Gryffindor.” Nick grimaces, pulling a face at me as I let out a tiny Ravenclaw groan. “Sorry about that.”

Sugar cookies. I knew nobody was perfect.

“Ha!” Toby says triumphantly. “Then neither of us gets to hang out with Harriet! I’m Hufflepuff.”

It looks like I’m going to be wizarding on my own: given today’s behaviour, Nat’s clearly Slytherin.

“And, Nicholas,” Toby continues, looking more hopeful, “can you prove that in three space dimensions and time, given an initial velocity field, there exists a vector velocity and a scalar pressure field that solves the Navier-Stokes equation?”

Nick shakes his head. “I have no idea what any of that means.”

“Toby,” I interrupt. “That’s one of the Millenium Prize Problems. Nobody can prove it.”

“It has a million-dollar prize,” Toby whispers at me urgently. “If he’d known, we could have split the winnings.”

I glare at him – I can’t believe he’s trying to profit financially from my love life – then turn to Nick in amazement.

Why is he still standing there?

Why hasn’t he run away, screaming? Why hasn’t he given up and walked away? Why hasn’t he sneered, or looked condescending, or laughed at Toby, or judged him for being such a geek?

Or me for being associated with him?

After all, that’s what every other boy in school has done for the last ten years. I had a crush on Nick already: but Annabel was right.

Now I really like him.

And if he’s still here … that must mean he quite likes me. Maybe Toby turning up wasn’t such a bad thing after al—

“Just one more question,” Toby sniffs, putting the notepad back in his bag and folding his arms in front of him. “Nicholas Hidaka, curly-haired Japanese-Australian supermodel, are you fully and comprehensively aware of just how lucky you are right now?”

Yup. Spoke too soon.

Every year, Santa climbs down approximately 91.8 million dark, narrow chimneys. I’m now so utterly humiliated, I’d give anything for just one of them.

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