Lee rapped his knuckles on his son's door before tentatively turning the knob and stepping inside. "Charlie?"

The boy lay curled up on his bed, facing the wall. He didn't turn his head when Lee entered the room.

"Look, son…" Lee aimlessly shuffled the items in his hand, standing next to the bed. He'd made a couple of quick trips to the master bedroom and bathroom to grab a few things before coming in to Charlie's room. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lost my temper like that."

Still no response.

"I know you're angry. And you've a right to be. I just…panicked. You can't keep something so important like that from us. It could really screw up your health. And your grades at school. We just want what's best for you, Charlie." Lee's brow furrowed at his son's unresponsive form. "Charlie?" He leaned forward over the bed and shouted, "Charlie!"

The boy stirred, pulling an earbud from his ear. Loud rock music blared tinnily from the speaker. "What? Oh. Hi, Dad," he grumbled.

Lee huffed in annoyance as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "Shut that off."

"So being grounded means I can't have music, too?" Charlie tossed the iPod aside and sat up on the bed, turning stonily towards his father.

"You're not grounded." Lee sighed. "I overreacted downstairs. I was just…upset that you didn't want to share that paper with us."

"I know." Charlie looked down at his comforter.

"The important thing is, we know now and we can do something about it. Your mum's setting up the appointment with the optometrist as we speak."

The boy suddenly met Lee's gaze, his look pleading. "Please don't make me go. I don't want to wear glasses."

Lee shot him a sympathetic smile. "You have to be able to see, son."

"But I'll look like a total div!" Charlie folded his arms. "My friends won't want to be seen with me. I'll have to sit at the loser table in the cafeteria with all the other anoraks!"

"Is that what you're worried about? That wearing glasses will make you uncool?"

Charlie looked away and gave a tiny nod.

"Do you think I'm uncool?"

The boy shot Lee a weird look. "Of course you're uncool. You're my dad."

"Fair enough." Lee nodded. "All right, compared to other dads, am I uncool?"

Charlie thought for a moment and shook his head. "You're okay, I guess."

"What if I told you…" Lee turned away and slipped on his spectacles before facing his son again. "…that I wore glasses? Am I uncool now?"

Charlie stared at Lee for a long time. "But…you don't," he finally said.

"Yeah, I do." Lee slid the frames up and down his nose. "These are prescription. I've been wearing glasses for the last forty years."

"But only to read and stuff, right? You don't wear them all the time."

Lee nodded. "All the time. If I'm not looking through a pair of lenses, I'm about as blind as a bat, to be honest. I couldn't even see your face until I put these on just now." He grinned. "I took out my contact lenses before I came in here."

Charlie gave him a tentative smile. "So everything's just a little too fuzzy for you to read, too?"

"It used to be a little. Now it's a lot." Lee shrugged. "That's how myopia works. It tends to get worse the older you get."

"What's myopia?"

"Near-sightedness. It's where you can read the really big letter on the eye chart and not much else." Lee waved a dismissive hand at his son's confused look. "The optometrist can explain it better than I can. So," he clapped his knee, "do you think I'm any more uncool now?"

Charlie thought for a moment and shook his head. "No. Bout the same, really."

"Exactly." Lee pointed a finger at his son. "Wearing glasses doesn't change how cool you are one bit."

"Easy for you to say when you don't have to go to school," Charlie mumbled dejectedly.

"Not any more. But I did." Lee held up the photos in his other hand and passed them to his son. "In fact, I was just about your age when I started wearing glasses."

"No way!" Charlie laughed, studying the pictures. "This is you?"

Lee nodded. "Yeah."

"You look like such a geek!"

"I've heard that one before. I've heard them all: geek, nerd, four-eyes, double glazing, gaylord, anorak, div, speccy, blinkers, lame-o, Mr. Magoo, muppet man, jam jars, windows, loser, Wally, paedo, gog eyes, freak, gegs on legs, bike face, you name it, I've heard it."

Charlie cackled and pointed at one of the photos. "What are those?!"

Lee leaned over and smiled. "You know what's sad? I actually thought those new frames would make me look cool. I just look like a welder, don't I?" He thought for a minute. "Smithy, that was another name I got."

Charlie giggled and handed the photos back. "Sorry, Dad. But you were such a loser!"

"And these aren't even my most embarrassing pictures." Lee held them up and shook his head. "But I think I've destroyed all photographic evidence of my ever having a perm, so you won't have to see them." He smiled tentatively at Charlie, who was still laughing. "See? You can't possibly look even more uncool than I did, with or without glasses."

Charlie suddenly quieted, his face falling. "But if wearing glasses made you a nerd, that means I'll be a nerd, too. Right?"

"Not unless you pick frames that make you look like a welder." He warmed as he caught the trace of a smile on Charlie's face. "Of course, there'll be kids trying to take the piss. They'll take the piss out of anything that looks different. Don't you remember how Benji's class gave him grief last winter over his new scarf that Grandma Wendy gave him for Christmas?"

"Yeah…" Charlie looked down, embarrassed to think of the times he'd joined in the name-calling. "And just last week, we gave Ellis a new nickname…"

"What for? Different shoes? Braces? A new haircut?"

Charlie met his father's gaze and bit his lip. "He brought a different lunchbox to school."

Lee couldn't help but laugh. "Christ, you lot are cruel!"

Charlie shuddered at the thought of being teased. "I don't stand a chance." He turned back to his dad. "Was it hard for you?"

Lee snorted. "Are you kidding? It was torture every blimmin' day! Gym class was the worst." He regarded his son sadly. "I was what they call a late bloomer, so I was always a bit more…slight…than the other boys my age. Most days in phys ed the bigger boys would take my glasses off me and laugh when I failed to see anything they lobbed at my face."

"What did you do?"

"I played up to it. I'd trip over things and collide with the walls on purpose. It's not as much fun for the bullies if you're in on the joke." Lee shrugged. "I figured they were going to laugh at me anyway, so it was better being for something I did than for how I looked. I started doing impressions, too, so everyone would laugh at my silly voice instead of my silly face. And I learned to be ready for anyone going for a cheap insult. I had all the standard comebacks: 'I know what you are, but what am I?'; 'better work on your delivery, I could see that one coming a mile off'; 'I'm a four-eyed freak, what's your excuse?'; 'I can see so far into the future that you might as well be dead,' and my personal favourite: 'Your nan's bum is so big I can see it without my glasses'!"

Charlie giggled.

"When you get the last laugh, the names don't hurt as much." Lee smiled. "I didn't care anymore if the kids called me speccy and gog eyes and all that. And after a while, everyone started to forget that I used to never wear glasses. It just became a part of who I was."

"And you never lost all your mates or had to sit at the loser table?"

"No." Lee held one of the photos up beside his face. "And if Smithy here can cut the mustard, you'll be just fine."

Charlie reached forward and hugged his father's neck. "Thanks, Dad."

Lee wrapped his arms around the boy and patted his back. "I love you, son."

Lucy appeared in the doorway and bit back a delighted coo at the sight of them. She cleared her throat and smiled. "Everything all right in here?"

The pair separated and Charlie nodded calmly at his mother. "Yes, Mum."

"So you're okay with going to the optometrist tomorrow right after school?"

Charlie gulped nervously and shot his father a glance. Lee gave him a reassuring look. "Yeah. I am."

"Good." Lucy pulled out her mobile. "I haven't called Anna yet. I'll see if she can come take us over on her way home from picking up Jack…"

"Don't worry about it, Luce." Lee clapped a hand on his son's shoulder. "I'll take a half-day at work and drive him over there myself. After all, I was the one who got him into this mess. It's only fair that I get him out."

"Aw, thanks, Lee. That's sweet of you." Lucy pocketed her phone and pointed over her shoulder. "Right. Wash up, you two. Dinner's on the table."