"Calm down, I'm turning it up, kay?" said as he looked back at his friends who were being unbearably annoying.
"Well it's fucking 110 degrees in here! How the hell are you not bothered by it? I'm sweating like a pig!" Complained the friend who was sitting next to him in the car. His other friends sat in the back.
"I already turned the damn air conditioning on, it's not gonna get much cooler so quit your whining. We're almost there anyway." St. John told them.
"Ugh, you're hardly sweating..." Whined one of his friends from the back seat.
John rolled his eyes and drove them to a bar so they could all drink and cool off.
John wa thirteen, and he was a very normal boy. Except he wasn't. He was a mutant. A mutant with the ability to manipulate fire. Of course, he didn't know that yet.
"I'll take a beer." John told the bartender after his friends had all already ordered their drinks.
"I swear you kids are going to get me in trouble some day." The bartender shook his head and gave him his beer. John was the youngest in his group of friends. The other boys were 17 or 18 years old, he would pick up many bad habits from them. Drinking was one of them.
At first, he hadn't liked the taste of beer at all. But after going out with them so much and going to bars, he got used to it and eventually enjoyed it.
The bar they were in was called The Kangaroo's Tail. It was a small little old bar that was away from the city, so not many people came here and the police was rarely seen.
John's parents always disappeared the first week of every month. He had made it a habit to take his dad's old car and drive his friends somewhere to have fun. This was the first time that they'd drove to a bar.
"Hey Johnny, c'mere!" One of his friends waved his hand at him. "Let's play darts!"
John got up from the stool he was sitting on and walked over to him, picking up some darts.
John and his friend drank and played darts until they were drunk, meanwhile, his other drunk friends were at a table, playing with some matches.
The game was to see who could last longer holding a lit match.
"Fuck!" One of the boys yelled as he shook his hand and dropped the match. "Gimme another!" Both boys refused to be defeated. They kept lighting matches until they both just knocked out from all the alcohol. They slept, lit matches in their hand. Slowly, the flame traveled onto the table and spread towards the wall.
Everyone was too drunk to notice until the fire reached some spilled vodka and and soon the whole bar was in flames. Those who were still a bit sober ran out immediately. John and his friend were able to get out just before the place collapsed.
The drunken boys stared at the mess. Someone had called the fire department but that would take a while since they were so far away.
There were still two of the boys inside the burning building.
Staring at the fire, John wished for his friends to be okay. He wished the building hadn't caught on fire. He wished that the flames could disappear and that his friends were okay.
Then, as if by miracle, the flames began to fade away slowly until all the fire was gone.
John was still too drunk to do anything heroic, so the bartender quickly ran back and dragged out both of the boys just as the fire department arrived, followed by policemen. crap.
The firemen looked through the remains of the bar to look for what had caused the fire.
Meanwhile, the policemen were inspecting everyone.
John watched as two of his friends got arrested for underage drinking and smoking.
His eyes went wide. He didn't want to be was not going to let that happen.
He quickly went over to his car and drove off. Soon enough, the police followed him. He could hear them speaking through a megaphone, telling him to slow down and be careful.
John was impulsive,defiant, and currently drunk. He was not going to listen to anything they said to him. There was a tree, he could stop, then...blackout.
"Kid...kid..." He heard the voices.
"He's okay, he's coming back..." More voices.
John woke up to the bright red and blue lights and a flashlight in his face.
"How many fingers am I holding?" The cop with the flashlight asked, holding three.
"Three..." Johngroaned rubbing his head, then stopping when it hurt.
"This kid's completely drunk... look at his alcohol level." Another cop said as he showed another cop a little device that measured alcohol level.
"Good." Replied the cop with the flashlight. " Do you have any form of identification? I need your name and age."
John gave him a blank stare, if he told them that, he'd be in real trouble.
"My name is Sheldon Irwin, I'm 18 and I live in Newcastle. I don't have my I.D." John lied to them.
The cops looked him up on their computer. They were skeptical about the information but didn't care. It was a Saturday night and they had better things to do.
"Alright, we'll take you home then." The cops put John in the car and drove him to Newcastle.
John just sighed, wondering how he was going to get back to Sydney and explain to his brother where he had been.