Geek Girl (Geek Girl, #1)(60)

“Toby,” I say, “can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.” Toby thinks about it. “Was that it? Did I just answer it?”

“No.”

“Then sure, go right ahead.”

“OK.” I close my eyes, swirl the question around my mouth a few times, take a deep breath and spit it out. “Toby, do you ever feel like a polar bear, lost in a rainforest?”

Toby narrows his eyes thoughtfully. “What kind of rainforest?”

“Does it matter?”

“Absolutely, Harriet. Different rainforests have totally different vegetation. It will dramatically affect how easy it is to be found again. Some have significantly more ground foliage and then it will be mainly cutting at plants with the paws.” Toby waves his hands in front of his face to illustrate this.

There’s silence again as I stare at him. “It’s a metaphor, Toby. I’m speaking metaphorically.”

“Right. Gotcha.” Toby thinks about it for a few minutes. “In that case, sure I do, Harriet.”

My stomach flips over. He knows? “And then do you ever feel as if…” I pause, trying to think of how to put it. “As if no matter what we do, we’re made of the wrong stuff and everyone can see it?”

Toby nods knowingly. “And we just want to get back again…”

“…to somewhere snowy, where the other polar bears must be…”

“…but we don’t know how to…”

“…so we just wander around on our own.”

Toby and I stare at each other for a few seconds and I can feel my entire body vibrating.

Not with romance. Just to make that clear. It’s not a romantic vibrating. To make the point separately, Toby’s nose chooses that moment to drip on to his scarf. But still: he understands.

“So what do we do?” I finally manage to blurt. “How do we get out, Toby?”

Perhaps there’s a map I don’t know about. Or – at the very least – a signpost.

Toby pulls a face, shrugs and wipes his nose with his finger. “Polar bears are awesome.” He wipes his finger on his coat. “They’re the largest land carnivores in the world, and did you know their skin is actually black and their hair is translucent, but looks white because it reflects light?”

I stare at him and my stomach is sinking already. So close and yet so far. “Metaphorically, Toby,” I sigh. “We’re still talking about metaphorical polar bears.”

“I know. That’s what I’m trying to say. We’re awesome, Harriet.” Toby picks up his flask and unscrews the lid. “We’ve got big paws so we can catch tropical fish out of rivers. And as we’re genetically related to European brown bears, I think with a bit of practice we could climb trees too. Even the really tall ones.”

“But…” And I pause. “We still don’t fit in, Toby. Doesn’t that bother you?”

“Nope.” Toby takes a swig of soup.

I can feel myself starting to stammer. Toby knows, but he doesn’t care? “B-b-but what about the others?” I start mumbling in confusion, almost to myself now. “The frogs, the parrots, the… the tigers, the flying squirrels… What about them? They know, they see it, they don’t want anything to do with us, they laugh at us…”

“In fairness, most of them end up getting eaten, Harriet. We’ve all got our bad points. The rainforest is an extremely harsh environment and shrinking in size. Just as the ice caps are. That’s a much bigger issue.”

“But—”

Toby puts the cap back on his flask and straightens out the blanket. “Just enjoy being a polar bear. Appreciate the size of our paws.” He makes his hands into paws and waves them in front of his face again. “Plus,” he adds, “we’re deceptively fluffy and cute.”

I stare at him, too surprised to say anything. Suddenly, cross-legged and bathed in the green light of his pocket torch, Toby looks otherworldly. Mysterious. Knowing. Almost… Yoda-like.

And then he sticks his finger up his nose and goes back to being Toby again.

We sit in silence: Toby fiddling with the channel on the radio and me picking distractedly at a leaf on the bush. There are so many things to think about and yet – somehow – I don’t need to think about them. They’re presenting themselves to me now, fully formed.

I clear my throat and start crawling out from under the bush. I finally know what it is I have to do. “Right,” I tell Toby over my shoulder in my bossiest voice. “You’re coming with me.”

Toby looks at me with wide and delighted eyes. “I am? With you? When?”

“Now. Bring your green torch, Toby.”

I’m going to need all the additional wisdom I can get.





’d like to say that our ensuing journey is a profound one: filled with adventure and inspiration and self-discovery. That would be nice, wouldn’t it? A little bit like Pilgrim’s Progress, without the overwhelming religious analogy.

It’s not.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to walk ten paces behind you?” Toby asks in consternation as we hurry down the pavement. “Would it make you more comfortable?”

“Toby, when does walking ten paces behind ever make someone more comfortable?”