The ramifications of the power cut began to creak through in the days following. The first issue came for The Quinn/ McCool family when Cousin Eammon turned up with news that his roof had fallen in. Amid the discussion of how such a thing could have occurred; Jim across the road, and Declan both quickly vetoed the idea of putting cousin Eammon up for a while. Declan did not have very fond memories of Aunt Bridie when it came to her narrow-minded opinions about 'his kind', while Jim had a simpler explanation. He had Marco staying with him and simply didn't have the room. Mary and Gerry were then left with no other choice but to let the awkward, timid cousin stay with them for a while.

"I won't lie to ya, Mary. I feel very grateful for you to put me up for a wee while." Eammon said thankfully.

Mary didn't have much time to digest the implications, she was facing another crisis when she discovered that the date she wanted to book for the girl's 18th birthday party was already taken, and in a desperate attempt to have the parish hall booked in one capacity or another, she was only able to get a booking on the Saturday before the Good Friday agreement vote. This would also come with a slight compromise.

The Quinn matriarch pondered how she was going to break the news to her daughter and niece that they were going to be sharing their 18th birthday party with a first communion party in the same venue. But instead, she decided to simply keep it quiet for as long as possible. Using their A-level revision schedule as an excuse. Meanwhile, Erin and Orla agreed they would discuss the party's theme once they had a moment to spare from revision.

So, the date was set for Saturday May 16th.

However, Erin's elaborate idea of having a birthday party on par with the town's New Year's Eve celebrations were quickly halted when Mary informed her that there no funds of that magnitude available.

"Typical! Always trying to stump my aspirations! Well, I guess I'll just have to use my creativity in some other way!" Erin thought to herself.

But Erin and the gang had not been so lucky with another issue. Following the power cut, they attempted to call Freeman's catalogue repeatedly to order Orla's 18th birthday present, a Chocolate fountain. But as time drew closer to her birthday. Right up to the end of April. The freeman's catalogue staff had been informing them that the Chocolate fountain was out of stock. But now, they'd been told the chocolate fountain had now been discontinued. Which put them a real dilemma.

Things became more convoluted when following the FA Cup semi-finals, where Arsenal beat Wolverhampton Wanderers to reach the final….. Marco's Dad rang to let him know that he managed to get tickets for the FA cup final. They decided that if he was to get tickets, Marco would spend a week with Tony before the match. But Marco's initial excitement quickly gave way to disbelief when he remembered that the date for the final was also on Saturday, May 16th. The same day as the party. Marco simply couldn't believe it. The chance to spend time with his Dad and to see Arsenal in the FA cup final at Wembley Stadium, something he'd dreamt of since he was little, was now met with an unbelievable dilemma.

Marco grew more and more nervous as he worked that day. He had been granted the time off from his apprenticeship, which was coming close to completion. Yet, the Saucier chef, Noah, who he worked under that day noticed that he was severely distracted. So much that he scolded his hand while cooking a cheese sauce. Whilst nursing the burn on his break; not even Clare's visit to the restaurant could brighten his spirits. Especially when he explained his dilemma to her. That wasn't all…. Marco had also noticed that he seemed to struggle reading things. This 'difficulty' had been occurring sporadically since he saved Michelle and Orla from Hectar at the Belfast University bar, but now he was noticing it more, especially when he drove. He hadn't mentioned it to anyone, not even Orla.

His mind was conflicted over what he should do. The thought of hurting Orla terrified him, but he was equally worried about letting his Dad down. It was their love of football and Arsenal that bonded them as Father and Son. It was like he was being pulled by a magnet on two sides. But which side should he go to? He made a point to pop into the Quinn house when he got back from Strabane. The group had now begun their final A-level exams, and it wasn't unusual now to not see Orla waiting at the window for him. Retrieving Coco Pops from Jim's house. Marco sauntered slowly inside.

"That you, Marco love?" Mary called out.

"Yeah! it's me, Mrs Quinn." Marco called back.

"They're upstairs!" Mary called.

Marco heard the faint sound of squabbling coming from Erin's room; distinctly between James and Michelle, which wasn't unusual. He could hear the muffled sounds of desperation and conflict as he opened Erin's bedroom door. Marco froze to see Erin and Orla holding James down in a chair while Michelle stood over him. There was some type of white cream smeared across James' face. The squabbling stopped when they turned to see Marco staring curiously at them all.

"Ok…. What's going on 'ere?" Marco asked.

"It's not what it looks like." James insisted.

"Oh good…. What's it meant to look like?" Marco asked.

"Just shut up and stay still, dickface!" Michelle continued applying the cream to James' face.

"Michelle, why put this stuff on MY face?" James moaned, still struggling.

"Ach. What ye moaning about? It's just a pore cleansing cream." Erin insisted.

"Aye. It's a new line from Avon and I need to test it out." Michelle explained.

"So why not test it on yourself?" James moaned.

"Uh… two reasons. One, I don't have greasy English skin like yours….. Two, if ya face breaks out in a rash, I'll know it's no good and send it back." Michelle answered.

"Very simple plan, James." Orla added.

"Wh- What if my face does break out in a rash?!" James asked in a panic.

"S'alright James. No one will notice." Marco quipped.

"And you can shut ya hole as well!" Michelle snapped at Marco.

Erin and Orla finally released James from their grip. The three girls then walked out of the room. Walking straight past Marco without even looking at him. Not even Orla would look at him. The two lads were left by themselves. While Marco taken aback by the silent treatment. He then turned to look at James' face. As he sat on the edge of the bed, James could see the slightly amused look on Marco's face. He knew there was going to be some sort of witty comment. He sighed and waited.

"All right, let's hear it." James resigned.

"I don't know what it is….. but I've suddenly got a hankering for a Big Mac." Marco shot, smiling.

"And why's that?" James asked, rolling his eyes.

"Well, let's be fair, James.…. you do look like Ronald McDonald's little boy." Marco pointed to the mirror on Erin's dressing table. James looked at his reflection and couldn't help but chuckle at Marco's comment. He had to admit he had a point.

"So….. what's with the girls?" Marco asked awkwardly.

"Really? You're asking that?" James asked sincerely.

"Well…. Yeah!" Marco answered.

"All I can say is… you're braving it coming here." James said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Marco asked, now more confused.

"…..They know." James said.

"Know?….. Oh my God…. They know?!" Marco groaned.

"Oh yeah….. And they ain't best pleased about it." James warned him.

Marco felt his stomach sink. "Oh God…. Wh…. How did they find out?"

"That's none of your business! Let's just say a wee birdie told us." Erin snarled, now standing in the doorway with Michelle with matching scowls on their faces.

"I thought it was Clare who told us, Erin." Orla called from the hallway.

"Shut up Orla!" Erin snapped.

Marco sighed heavily…. Clare told them. He thought. He then remembered the fact about Derry…... 'Everyone knows everything about everybody'…. Even though Clare had moved, she was still a Derry Girl.

"Look, girls. Can I talk to Orla about this?" Marco asked worryingly, he got up to move but Michelle shoved back down onto the bed.

"Oh aye! You can talk to her. You're gonna sit right there and explain to Orla how you're gonna scoot off to England!" Michelle snapped, pointing her finger at him.

"She is absolutely crushed, so she is!" Erin chimed in.

"She was quiet all day, mate. She didn't even wanna play Rock Paper Scissors with me." James admitted.

"Don't you get involved in this, James! This is on HIS head!" Michelle snapped.

"I never thought you would be so selfish, Marco!" Erin proclaimed dramatically.

"But….. I haven't…. I mean… I was going to… James, come on. Help us out here mate please?!" Marco pleaded, unsure of how to handle the situation.

"Stay out of this, James!" Erin warned him.

"I'm sorry, mate. I've been told I can't get involved." James shrugged.

"Look, it's not like I planned for the FA cup final to fall on the same day as the party, is it? But…" Marco protested, but Erin cut him off.

"That's not the point, Marco! You're still going, aren't ya? Right, ye sit there. Cos Orla's got something to say to ya!" Erin snarled.

"That's going a bit too hard, isn't it, girls?" James asked timidly.

"Shut up Dicko!" Michelle snapped.

Marco sat on the edge of the bed. He saw Orla walk into the room. Her expression was blank as she took the few steps forward and stood over him. Marco felt his Adam's apple crawl higher up his throat than it ever did before as he went to speak. But the words got caught in his throat as he took in Orla's blank expression.

"…. Orla…. I…."

"No! You listen here!" Orla cut him off. Marco stopped and listened.

"I've got just one thing to tell ya….." Marco was taken aback by Orla's ominous tone.

She poked his chest, speaking with a warning tone. "If you go to England to see that game…"

Marco felt his heartbeat rapidly; his mind began to swirl.… was she about to give him an ultimatum?... would he have to choose between spending time with his Dad or go to her party?... would she be that selfish and do such a thing?... Something didn't seem right.

Orla's stare was intense. But then, she tilted her head and smiled. "…. When ye come back, can ya bring me one of those king size Toblerone's they sell at the airport." She asked excitedly.

Marco furrowed his eyes in confusion. "…..What?!" He asked.

Marco then heard sniggering. He turned to see Erin and Michelle hiding their faces. He then glanced at Orla, who shot him a goofy grin. He turned to see James turn his face away to hide his giggles. Coco Pops' playful barking broke the tension. Marco scrunched his face with embarrassment as he realized this was nothing more than a windup. A prank. A trick. A joke.

"Jesus Christ! That is NOT funny girls!" Marco groaned in protest as they all cracked. "You… Oh for the love of God!" Marco groaned a mixture of annoyance and relief as he hunched over.

"Ach, dry ya eyes, ya great dose! Only havin' a wee craic!" Michelle laughed.

"We got ya good that time! Didn't we, aye?" Orla giggled as she jumped onto the bed behind Marco, wrapping her arms and legs round him. Coco Pops barked happily as he jumped into Marco's lap.

"You…. Oh…. Guess you were forced against your will, right?" Marco pointed at James.

"Absolutely." James insisted through his chuckles.

"Vaffanculo!" Marco chuckled.

"Ye alright there, Marco?" Erin asked. Rubbing his shoulder. Having a sense of sympathy for him now.

"I've been proper shitting myself above this all day!" Marco moaned. Orla's face contorted awkwardly as she started to move away from him.

"Wise up, Orla. He doesn't mean that literally." Erin tutted.

"Wouldn't surprise me." Michelle quipped.

Orla sighed with relief as she cradled Marco again. "Ye haven't spoken to our Granda, have ye?" She asked.

"No. Not since this morning. Why?" Marco answered.

"OOOH! Can I tell him?" Orla cried excitedly.

"Tell me what?" Marco groaned.

"Well, we came home during lunch hour, and your Da was on the phone with Granda, and he said to tell ya he's sorted your flight tickets out. He's booked you a wee flight back to Derry after the game finishes! So ya should be back in time for the party!" Orla exclaimed, shaking with excitement.

It took a moment for Marco to digest the news. The stress and worry of the day lifted off him like a heavy barbell as he slumped backwards into Orla's embrace. But then a thought came to mind.

"But what if the game goes into extra time?" Marco asked.

"Well, I'm sure they'll hold the plane for ya." Orla shrugged.

"They don't hold planes for people, Orla!" Erin huffed.

"Do they not?" Orla frowned.

"What's the matter? You reckon Arsenal can't beat Newcastle in regular time? I mean to be fair; your lot had to play Crystal Palace in a replay." James teased.

"Who's side are you on, dickhead?" Michelle snapped.

"Wha…. I was only having a laugh." James insisted.

"That was really hurtful, James! Inconsiderate English Prick!" Michelle huffed.

"Yeah, that is soooo out of order, James." Orla shook her head with disappointment.

James shook his head and sighed with defeat. "Wha… you lot just….. I give up."

"Seriously, you two?" Erin groaned. At that moment, the phone rang.

After a short pause, Mary called up. "Erin! Clare's on the phone!"

Erin moved towards her dressing table and put the phone on loudspeaker. "Hiya Clare." They all called.

"How goes it Clare? Ya lookin well." Orla called.

"Hiya, girls. Did ya speak to Marco about his wee predicament?"

"Oh yeah. We had a wee chat." Michelle smirked.

"…. I'm not sure I trust that tone, Michelle. What did you say to him?" Clare snapped.

"They tortured me, Clare! They got me thinking Orla was proper pissed off at me!" Marco called.

"Honestly, girls! He was proper broke over it when I saw him earlier!" Clare moaned.

"Ach, it's only a joke for fuck's sake." Michelle complained.

"How'd your first exam go, Clare?" James asked, changing the subject.

"Hi James. Not bad I guess. I mean it's only the one exam down, but that's the least of my troubles."

"That's an understatement." Michelle shot.

"What happened?" Erin asked.

"Bunch of first year shites changed the direction instructions to get to the exam rooms! That's what happened! I was walking round the place like a headless chicken….." Clare moaned.

While the gang listened to Clare talk about her school exam escapade, Marco warmed at the feel of Orla's embrace. The conversation drowned out as they spoke. Orla rubbed his chest with affection.

"Were ya…. really cacking yourself about telling me?" Orla asked.

"Course I was. I couldn't think about anything else all day. More I thought about it…. the more I was worried about upsetting you. It made me not want to go." Marco sighed heavily, catching Orla's frown.

Orla stroked her fingertips across the bristled sides of Marco's hair and gave him a hug. "Awwww….. I'm sorry. Ya know for a tough fella, ya a big softie, ye know that?….. but seriously, I'm buzzing for ya." She said.

"But…"

Orla quickly interjected. "No….. I mean it. I mean….. I'll miss ya lots cos you're goin' for a week, and I'm gonna miss having our wee cuddles….. But I would naaaaver stop ye from spending time with your Da. Aaaaand… you deserve this, Marco….. you've worked sooooo hard and you've wanted to go to this since you were wee. Ye said so yourself. And I want ye to have your Take That moment…. Like we did."

Marco huffed out a breath, gazing at Orla lovingly. "As if I didn't love you enough already."

Orla hummed contently as she hugged him. "I love ya too… But…. I have to say I am just a wee bit pissed off with ya."

Marco furrowed his eyes with confusion again. "Alright…. What did I do?" He sighed.

Orla met his gaze. "Well, it's not something you've done, it something ya haven't done." She answered.

"Ok… What didn't I do?" Marco queried.

"Ye haven't gone and got ya eyes tested. Ye heard what ya Nanna said. My mammy was very specific. Right now. Your Nanna's looking at ye, wondering why ye haven't gone yet." Orla spoke insistently.

"….. That's what you're annoyed about?" Marco asked.

"Does that surprise ye?" Erin scoffed. They turned to see the group was now looking at them.

"Sounds like a pretty sound reason to me, Marco." Clare said down the line.

Marco huffed. "Orla, honestly, there's nothing wrong my eyes. They're fine."

"Well, how do ye explain this?" Orla held his bandaged hand up.

"Might have overdone it a wee bit." Michelle made a hand gesture.

"Stop that, Michelle! I might not be there, but I know what you're doing!" Clare cried down the line.

"Alright, so I wasn't looking at what was doing. I WAS a bit distracted with all this, you know?" Marco protested.

"…. You also nearly hit that car the other night, mate." James spoke up admittedly.

"The streetlights were off!" Marco complained feebly.

"Marco….. please? Please say you'll get them checked…. Your eyes are really cracker… and I simply will not risk anything happening to them… please Care Bear?" Orla frowned a pleading look at him.

"Aye, gone Care Bear." Erin teased playfully. Marco rolled his eyes at her teasing. He turned to Orla and melted at the sight of her large hazel eyes.

"….. Alright. I get them checked before I go. Ok?" He agreed. As Orla gripped him tightly in a hug, the gang smiled happily as the two best friends shared a loving moment.

"That is sooo beautiful." Clare cooed down the line. "Right, must dash, girls. Laurie's on her way over. I'll ask if she's free for ya party, Erin."

"Aye ok. See ya Clare." Erin said, ending the call.

James leant forward and patted Marco's knee. "Oi, you can relax now, mate! Ya going to WEMBLEY ya lucky bastard!" He exclaimed.

Marco finally allowed himself to enjoy that one fact. "I'm going to Wembley….. I'm going to fucking Wembley! And we're gonna smash those Geordies an' all!" He exclaimed, smiling.

Orla then queried something. "I do have one question…. Why would the English name a football stadium after a character in Fraggle Rock?"

"Kinda fits, doesn't it, aye? England's stadium named after a muppet!" Michelle snorted as James and Marco shot her an unimpressed look.

"Mind you, Newcastle has some pretty cracker stuff too. I hear they deep fry mars bars over there….." Orla whispered in awe.

"Yeah…. That's…. grand. Plus, they gave us Byker Grove." Erin added.

"Not gonna lie…. Newcastle Brown Ale is pretty cracker. Granted, it's not in the same league as Guinness, but they're trying." Michelle shrugged.

"And they gave us Paul Gascoigne and Alan Shearer." James mentioned, which Marco conceded to.

"You wanking over them too?" Michelle shot.

"And they gave us The Beatles and Oasis!" Orla said excitedly.

"The Beatles came from Liverpool, and Oasis come from Manchester, Orla." Erin huffed, rolling her eyes in despair as the group continued the conversation.

Marco found himself sitting inside the Opticians in town the following Saturday. Sarah and Orla went along for moral support. The Optician, whose name was Jemima, was a friend of Sarah's. She had long curly ginger hair and wore large multicoloured spectacles, which Orla regarded with approval. Jemima asked Marco a series of questions before taking him into the inspection room.

Marco felt slightly apprehensive when Jemima glanced suspiciously at him when he mentioned the sporadic headaches and the blurry vision he had when driving at night. She also noticed Marco's straining when he read the smaller line of letters on the display cards when held at a distance before carrying out an examination with the fundoscope; After a short wait, Jemima summoned them into her office. Orla held Marco's hand as they listened.

"Ok…. Marco. Thank you for waiting …. After doing all the tests, I must inform you that I'm seeing clear signs of Astigmatism in your vision." She said.

"…..Wh-What's that?" Marco asked.

"Are ye gonna need to take his eyes out?" Orla asked worryingly.

"Is he gonna go blind?" Sarah asked.

Jemima quickly put their fears to rest. "…. No. Thankfully. It appears to be mild….. But ye will have to keep an eye on it!" She shot a mental expression, cackling at her own joke.

"Ohhhh I get that!" Sarah laughed. Orla threw her head back and giggled at Jemima's 'joke' while Marco sat awkwardly between them.

Jemima snorted through her nose before she regained her composure. "Right…. Well…. Astigmatism is a condition when the lens of the eye is irregularly shaped. It's mostly on your left eye, which explains why you're getting those headaches you mentioned, and why ye struggle to drive at night…..Now I understand your concern, but it's nothing to worry about. Astigmatism is quite common in this field. Sometimes it can develop over time, others have it from birth. It can also be inherited."

"Ohhhhh….. Do ye think Marco might have got it from his birth father and not his Da?" Sarah asked.

Jemima spotted the awkwardness of the situation. "….. Well, possibly. But in some cases, it can happen after suffering an injury. Some kind of trauma… Like a black eye, or a bump on the head. Have you ever taken part in any sports like boxing, or rugby, or have ye had a wee scuffle where ye took a hard hit to the head?" She asked.

"Aye. He's done all those to be fair." Orla admitted.

"Orla!" Marco moaned.

"Well, I'm sorry Marco. But ye have to tell the truth in these cases." Orla explained.

"Is he gonna need surgery?" Sarah asked.

"If ye have to remove one of his eyes, can ye put it in a wee jar for me?" Orla asked.

"Ach, unfortunately no….. They don't let us do that no more." Jemima said.

Ach, desperate." Orla frowned.

"What does she mean, No more?" Marco thought.

Jemima quickly moved on. "Thankfully he doesn't need surgery at this point. He just needs to wear glasses."

"Glasses?!... Oh my God. Michelle's gonna luuuuuv this!" Marco groaned.

"Ach, Marco. Don't be so dramatic, son. There's nothing wrong with wearing glasses." Sarah tutted.

"I reckon glasses would really suit ya." Orla nodded.

"Orla's right. Glasses are proper trendy these days among celebrities, Marco. Proper trend setters so they are. There's that wee singer with the ginger wig, Elton John, and John Lennon….. sure, even when he got himself shot he would have sported a classy pair of glasses, I think glasses might add a wee bit distinction to yourself." Sarah explained.

Jemima chimed in. "I would go with what they're saying. I mean if you're a wee bit shy about wearing glasses, there's always contact lenses. But given your job as a chef, I would advise wearing glasses, I mean, it's never a grand thing to have a contact lens fall out and go into someone's dinner, is it now?" She chuckled nevously.

"She's such a character!" Orla chuckled happily.

"Orla, why don't ye take Marco out and help him pick a frame? I'm gonna have a wee chat with Jemima." Sarah suggested. Orla lead Marco out the consultation room. "Now…. Won't the glasses mist up when he's working in the kitchen, or do they come with wee windscreen wipers for the lenses? Sarah asked, Jemima sat and pondered the question.

Orla and Marco sauntered around the Opticians. Her cheerful approach made him smile as they inspected the different frames. Orla likened it to being at the beach shop at Portrush where she would always go through the different types of hats and sunglasses on sale. Making sure she tried all of them before Erin would yank her out of the shop. Marco chuckled as he remembered that Orla had an entire drawer full of just sunglasses in her bedroom.

While there were no star shaped frames, much to Orla's annoyance, there was a simple black frame that seemed to look right on Marco. Orla slid them back and forth onto his face. A look of curiosity came across her as took a step back from him. She gazed intently as Marco turned to look at himself in the small mirror. He seemed impressed with them.

"Hmmm…. Not bad. Do you think I look a bit like Christopher Reeve in these?" Marco joked.

"Aye…." Orla stretched. Marco turned to see Orla staring at him with wide eyes. Her mouth was gawping, and her breathing was slightly ragged.

"….. You alright Orla?" Marco asked. He suddenly felt self-conscious. He moved to take the glasses off.

"No!…. Don't take them off… Just… keep them on a minute….." Orla felt a familiar flutter in her stomach, a tension started building in her chest. Her fingers tingled as she gazed at him. He looked different, in a very good way. "Oh my God!... Let me just….." Orla stuttered, struggling to catch her breath.

"What? What's wrong?" Marco was then startled as Orla suddenly lunged in and kissed him vigorously. An excitable yelp escaped her as their lips met.

Marco was taken aback but quickly mirrored her firm claim on his lips. They wrapped their arms around each other. The vigorous kiss continued to build. Tasting the subtle hint of sugar, undoubtedly coming from one of Orla's sweets. When they finally managed to break away from each other. They held each other they caught their breaths in the middle of the opticians.

"Can I just say….. you look absolutely cracker in those!" Orla panted excitedly as she gave him a wide pearly smile.

"Bloody hell! I think I could get used to wearing these after all." Marco chuckled, catching his breath.

"Aye…. Very much so!" Orla squeaked happily as she lunged in for another kiss.

As their lips met again. The bell above the entrance door jingled, signalling someone had walked into the opticians.

"ORLA McCOOL! MR. GALLUCI! WOULD YOU KINDLY REMOVE YOURSELVES FROM EACH OTHER!" They jumped to see Sister Michael standing in the opticians.

"Ach, afternoon Sister Michael. You're looking well." Orla said, unabashed.

"Sorry, Sister." Marco said, wiping the surgery remnants from his lips. "We were just…."

"I could see what you were doing! I'm not blind!" Sister Michael stressed.

"We were just picking a frame for Marco's new glasses. He's got a busted eye." Orla spoke up.

"Well, you won't have much luck searching in his mouth, Orla!" Sister Michael snapped.

Orla sniggered. "Course not, Sister. Ye put glasses on ya face, not ya mouth."

Sister Michael rolled her eyes as Jemima then came out from the consultation room followed quickly by Sarah.

"Ach. Sister Michael. Here to pick up your sunglasses?" Jemima asked. Handing her a case.

"Indeed." The nun answered. Placing the relective sunglasses on her face she turned to look at herself in the mirror.

"Ach, sister, ye look grand in those." Sarah regarded.

Sister Michael turned to meet her gaze. "….. Yes, I know. Good day. And you, Mr Galluci, I trust I'll be seeing you later?" The Nun asked.

"Yes, Sister….. I mean… Yes, Sensei." Marco replied. Orla furrowed her eyes as Sister Michael about turned and left the opticians.

"Sensei? That's not Italian for Sister!" Orla asked.

"Oooooh…. Marco, that frame looks really class on ye! Doesn't it now, Orla?" Sarah then said, seeing the pair of glasses he was wearing.

"Aye, mammy. Very much so." Orla smiled, gazing dreamily at Marco.

Marco nodded as he handed the frame over to Jemima. "I…. Think I'll choose these ones." He said.

"Grand choice. They should be ready in a week or so." Jemima smiled.

After Sarah waved them off to go back to the salon; Orla and Marco walked hand in hand up the high street to go and meet Erin, Michelle and James at the café. They walked into the café and looked around for the others.

"Muthafukkaaaaas!" Michelle called out from their table.

"Alright you two?" James smiled as they walked up.

"Hey, what's up?" Marco clasped his hand.

Orla ruffled the wee English fella's hair before sitting down. "Alright James?….. Ooooooh! Wait a minute! Just wanna take a wee look at something. Get us a coke and a cream horn!" Orla hurried quickly out of the café before they could speak.

"Where she going?" James asked.

"I know where she's going….. I saw her in a shop just up the road the other day. She saw this monkey onesie and was dancing round with it. Oi, that's a present idea for ye to get her." Michelle said to Marco.

"Hmmmm, ok. I'll take a look at that." Marco nodded.

"Well that's just typical, isn't it!" Erin groaned.

"Why? What's your bother?" Michelle asked.

"I'm at my wits end, so I am, Michelle! I mean…. I was hoping to sit Orla down so we could start talking bout the party theme, but she's fecked off! Seriously, what with this chocolate fountain malarkey, it's proper melting my brain!" Erin stressed.

"It's alright Erin, calm down. You'll get it sorted. What theme have you got in mind?" James enquired.

Erin's words got caught in her throat. "….. Well, to be fair, I haven't actually pinpointed the exact theme at this specific moment in time, but I'm working on it."

"In other words, ye don't have a baldies!" Michelle stated.

Erin went to fire back. "Well, if Orla stayed still for five fecking minutes…. I'd-"

"Can I….. get you guys anything?" A voice said. Breaking Erin's thread.

Erin snapped her head round. "Do ya mind we're having a conversation… here." She stopped.

They turned to see that their waitress was none other than Shannon O'Driscoll. The blonde was dressed in a white T-shirt, blue jeans, and wearing a black apron. The former adversary to the girls stood there with a soft smile on her face with her hair, tied back, holding a pad and pen. There was a collective startle amongst the group.

"Oh, you alright Shannon?" Marco asked politely.

"Aye, I'm gand thanks. So, Can I get you guys anything?" Shannon asked again.

"You work here, Shannon?" Erin asked, scrunching her face.

"Aye. About a month or so now. Just started my shift." Shannon said cheerfully.

"Oh, that's great, Shannon. How you finding it?" James asked.

"Aye, it's pretty sound. Just weekends. Oh, just wanna say first…. If ye want coffee…. I'm still learning to use the machine, so bear with me on that." Shannon confessed. Erin scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"Which ones can you make?" Michelle queried, ignoring Erin.

"Lattes. They're dead easy." Shannon answered.

"Yeah, that sounds good, Shannon. We'll have a round of lattes, right?" Michelle said.

"Yeah, go then." Both James and Marco agreed.

"I'll just have a coke. Don't wanna make it too difficult for ye." Erin shrugged with a tint of arrogance in her voice.

"Ok…. Oh, and a coke and a cream horn, aye?…. I heard Orla before she darted out." Shannon added, smiling at Marco.

"Yeah, coke and a cream horn too. Thanks, Shannon." Marco answered, smiling back.

Shannon made a quick note in her pad. "Did I hear you guys say something about a chocolate fountain?" She asked.

"What is this, an interrogation? We're thirsty here, Shannon!" Erin snapped.

"Oh, right. Sorry." Shannon frowned and made a hasty exit. The group turned to look at Erin.

"What?" Erin asked them.

"Seriously, Erin. What's crawled up your hole today?" Michelle asked.

"Oh what? Did you forget how she treated Orla before? Erin asked

"Yeah, I remember. But Orla's sound with her now." Michelle replied.

"And what about that wee look she was giving Marco just now?" Erin asked.

"There was no look. She was just being nice." Marco insisted, puzzled.

"Yeah, ye might wanna go back and get your eyes checked again Marco. Orla might be sound with her, but after all that business with Shannon's Da, and Mrs Sadhbh….. as far as I'm concerned, people who inflict suffering on others don't deserve the time of day." Erin shot.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Michelle asked.

"Speaking of which, how'd you get on at the optician?" James spoke up, attempting to shift the conversation.

"Well, apart from the fact that the Optician was mental…. She said I had some sort of condition, I can't remember how you say it though." Marco said.

"Too long a word?" Michelle asked.

"I think it was….. A-sting-matay-ous?" Marco pronounced. The group silently mouthed the word.

"Sounds like a Spanish football player." James quipped.

"….. anyway…. I gotta wear glasses when I drive and whenever I struggle to see anything." Marco told them.

"Glasses? Really?" Erin asked with intrigue.

"Have ye got them on ya now?" Michelle smirked.

"No….. well, I do have a temporary pair." Marco confessed.

"Ach, gone! Put 'em on for us!" Erin urged him.

"NO!" Marco groaned.

"Oh, go on 'Co! Let see them!" James chimed in. The group continued to goad Marco until he finally caved in. He pulled out the glasses from his coat pocket and paused.

"I swear, I hear one of you laughing. I'm off!" He warned.

"Catch yourself on! We promise. We won't laugh." Erin promised as he slid the glasses on.

He sat there and waited some type of snide comment from one of them, his eyes set dead either Erin or Michelle. Erin lowered her head and bit her lower lip, only to have Michelle slap her on the arm.

"What ye talking about?... They're fine." Michelle said, her voice cracking. "No….. I mean it. They really suit you… I mean, if ye wanna pass yourself off as Jarvis Cocker's son." She snorted. Marco rolled his eyes as he went to take the glasses off.

James shook his head. "Oh, don't listen to her. Mate, they're fine. Got a bit of a Christoper Reeve vibe going. Plus, the first Doctor Who wore glasses." He added.

"What? William Hartnell? But he was an auld man, James. And they weren't even glasses. It was a monocle." Erin pointed out.

"Yeah….. well… ok bad example. But still, they look good on you." James insisted.

"What does Orla think about them?" Michelle asked.

No sooner had she asked. Marco felt Orla crash down on his lap. Once again, she crashed her lips onto his. The group sat stunned, as did the entire café, while Orla displayed her approval. Erin darted around in horror at the gawping faces from everyone in the café. Feeling her cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"Jesus Christ, Orla! Control yerself!" Erin cried.

"Fuck a doodle doo!" Michelle exclaimed.

"You alright there, Marco? James asked. Sniggering at the gushy expression on his friend's face as Orla eventually broke away from their kiss.

"I think Orla's alright with them." Marco stumbled over his words.

"He looks soooooo cracker in them, doesn't he?" Orla beamed happily.

"Right, well on that note. I think we better make those lattes to go!" Erin stressed from the embarrassment.

As they gathered their things, along with their drinks. Erin spotted Shannon motion Marco over to talk to her and another woman. Waiting outside for him, Erin began speaking to Orla about deciding on a theme for their party. But Orla's attention was clearly somewhere else. Her cousin's voice was like a distant echo in her head as Orla stared through the café window at Marco. A dreamy wide smile spread across her face. Marco still had his glasses on. She then heard Erin's voice come in louder.

"Orla….. Orla!... ORLA?! Are ye listening to me?!" Erin cried.

"Huh? Wha?" Orla asked Erin, a dozy expression now donned her face.

"I was trying to talk to you about the theme idea I had for the party. Are ya fine with it?" Erin asked.

"Oh Yeah. Fine. I'm cool with it." Orla answered.

"You…. You are? Oh…. Ok….. grand. Ye sure?" Erin checked.

"Yeah I'm grand with it." Orla repeated.

"Ok.… would ye sign off on it?" Erin queried.

"Oh yeah…. Fine." Orla groaned, desperately wanting to get back to her daydream.

Erin glanced to where Orla was looking. Marco was still talking with Shannon. She narrowed her eyes with suspicion again. When Marco finally emerged from the café, Orla beamed a happy smile and held his arm.

"What was ye talking to Shannon about?" Erin asked him.

"Uh…. Orla. Can you give us a moment?" Marco asked. Orla nodded and ran off, jumping on James' back. Marco, Michelle and Erin held back a bit. "Right…. I just solved your problem with the chocolate fountain. Shannon's boss said she'll sell the one she's got to you. Come down tomorrow to pick it up." Marco whispered.

"Are ye serious?" Erin asked.

"Ach. Nice one, Marco. You're a legend!" Michelle exclaimed.

Despite her reservations about Shannon, Erin couldn't deny that she was relieved that their group present for Orla had been sorted. She even got an agreement out of Orla about the party theme. Literary Greats- She thought to herself. She started to feel at ease with herself as they walked through the town.