Call Me Back Again

CHAPTER 7

"I love your sunglasses, by the way," John blurted out after several seconds of awkward silence which followed that cheeky little wink. He had to somehow distract himself from the things it did to him, so he brought up the only other thing that could explain why he was staring at Paul without blinking. Besides, he did love them. He'd noticed them when Paul first arrived and hadn't been able to stop looking at them. They shouldn't fit in with the whole fifties outfit, what with them having those coloured mirror lenses that looked yellow from one angle and pink from another, but they suited the look remarkably well.

The spontaneous comment resulted in a smile bright enough to drown out the sun. "Yeah?"

"I do," he nodded earnestly. "The whole look rocks, right, but those sunnies are dead cool."

Paul was grateful for the warm sun, which had already given his cheeks a fair bit of colour. It meant the blush he felt creeping onto his face wouldn't be so noticeable. Hoping John wouldn't see how much of an impact the compliment had, he took a sip from his banana milkshake to buy some time. "I got loads of 'em, you know. They're three quid apiece on eBay like, so I got every colour they had. Got a bunch of round ones, too. You know, like the old granny glasses they used to have?"

"Yeah, I know those. Been looking for something like that, actually. You should send me the link so I can get some." John kerbed his enthusiasm, remembering he couldn't exactly splurge on too many things he didn't need. "Well, when I find a job."

"Hmm. Right." Momentarily distracted, Paul subconsciously gnawed on the nails of his right hand, furrowing his brow as his mind wandered to a fairly recent memory of an argument he had with Mike. He wondered if he should say what he was thinking. Wouldn't it give the wrong impression if he did? Then again, it would only be a friendly gesture. "I got some duplicates if you're interested."

Christ on a cracker, could that daft little twit get any cuter? Nobody should look that fuckable biting their nails. Was there no end to the ways in which Paul could send John's heart aflutter? Apparently, there wasn't, so John supposed he might as well respond to the comment. "You do?"

"Hmm. Only the round shades, though. I have two of the turquoise-and-purple ones, and the other pair is the same colour as these," he explained, tapping the side of the frames. He could already hear the things Mike would say, should he ever find out Paul was willing to give away the sunglasses to some random bloke he just met, but not to his own flesh and blood. The kid had been scowling for days after he'd been forced to give back the ones he'd confiscated, after all. Maybe he had a point but then again, who bought him that fancy Nikon D3200 camera and the pricey wide angle lens he loved so much? Paul reckoned that after being that generous, he had every right to deny young Michael free reign in his dresser drawer. Let him get his own bloody shades if he fancied them so much. "Not sure about the former, though. It could be the light-and-dark blue ones instead. Or maybe they're yellow and green... "

John chuckled at the seriousness with which something so insignificant was explained. As if it even mattered which colour they were... "How many colours are there, anyway?"

Paul almost started describing the six or seven (or eight, or nine... fine, twelve!) different variations, but then he didn't, afraid it'd make him sound like an even worse spod than he already was. Be cool, he reminded himself. "Oh, I don't know. A few, I reckon. You should come over and see for yourself."

He had to really bite his tongue in order to keep himself from being too eager. The mere thought of going over to Paul's was entirely too much for John to handle. If it was up to him, they'd go immediately. "Maybe I will," he drawled slowly, struggling to seem only vaguely excited. "Not sure I can spare six quid right now, though. That's two days worth of food, like."