Careless Talk

Dial tone

Paul had picked up his phone at least twenty different times but each time he hung it up. It made him uneasy that he wasn't sure of John's intentions behind the phone number gesture. But he couldn't help but be curious, which is why he dipped the phone back up to his mouth though he did not reach out to dial. So he put it back down again and at that moment, it rang. Paul thrust back in shock but quickly reached out to answer it,

"Hello?"

"It's ya boyfriend calling to ask you out for lunch!" George happily chirped on the other end of the line.

"Suppose your heads feeling better?" Paul asked him, in all honesty he had been paranoid that the fall had shaken George's rocker a little, which could be funny to see but worrying.

"very much so, can you come?" George pressed on and Paul giggled

"Sure sure, Da won't miss me, will he?" Paul replied and was already curling his chin to hold the phone as he put his jacket on.

"Hurry, I'm really hungry" George whined

"When aren't you?" Paul hung up and flung himself out the door without a word to his dad or Mike. He fumbled down his steps as he finished putting his arm through his sleeve. The day was bright and basked warm sunlight on Paul's shoulders, he made good time assuming that he was meeting George at the same old diner.

Thankfully, he was right in his assumption and George was teetering on the edge of the metal chair with two orders of fish and chips resting on the table.

"Hello" he greeted with a mouthful of chips just as Paul plopped onto the seat across from him.

"You spoil me!" Paul eagerly dug into his food with anything but grace.

"Who Said I was treating ya?" George smirked, grease moistening his lips.

"I paid the last time!"

"I was injured, mate!" George leaned back on his chair with a bright cheery grin, bearing his teeth.

"How long you gonna play that card?" Paul chuckled with a false whine in his voice.

"Think John and company will be back on our case tomorrow?" George asked, throwing his napkin down. Paul took a second to register the fact that George actually had a napkin this time before speaking.

"Did you have to remind me that we have school?" Paul haunched over the table and thought for a minute. He remembered the phone number that was smudged across his journal paper. Maybe John would continue to lay off them, maybe he wouldn't...he wasn't sure.

"Face the music, darlin" George cooed, scrapping at the last bits of his food off the paper. Paul frowned and sank in his seat, perching his chin on the table. "Finish the food! Paid good money for that, I did!"

"Aha!" Paul shot up, forgetting his misery "knew you'd pay, you're so sweet on me!" Paul reached over to pinch George's cheek.

"Oi!" George slapped him away and stood up, throwing his tray in the bin. Paul shoved the rest of his food in his mouth and copied the action. The bell rang over the door as they bounded outside onto the pavement. Paul cocked his eyebrow at George, usually anything but chipper on Sunday's, who was gracefully walking next to him.

"What's up with you then?' Paul poked at the lads shoulder

"Nothing" he shrugged with a small tight grin and Paul continued to poke at him

"My sweet George" Paul stopped George and grabbed his shoulders "what's got you all dreamy?"

George wiggled away and continued walking, Paul galloping after to get to his side "there's another game soon" George tried to make the comment sound casual but the subject was just to foreign.