Chapter 5

"What yo get Ezzie?"

The owner of the voice, a small, rotund boy was addressing a large, stocky teenager with unkempt black hair and a white tracksuit.

Ezra grinned. "All A stars. Jimmy. I told you, I aced it."

"Yo man. Ya lyin'," Jimmy told him and snatched the results paper from him. "One A star, man, you got an A star. Yo a geeky swot big time, man. And two A's and how many B's? I bet ya spent all of ya study leave revising."

Ezra laughed at him and shrugged. "I told ya. When I wasn't with you I was wanking. Or fucking. What dya get?"

"A B, a C. And D's. And one E. But that's for the party later."

Ezra grinned. "Well I'm out of weed so you'll need it. Ezra, in his hooded tracksuit, jumped down from the wall and with his friend, crossed the playground towards the main road.

He stopped Lydia who had a big smile on her face, and Jimmy left them alone while he talked to the beautiful girl. "What did you get?" Lydia asked, and Ezra passed her the paper.

"That's good," she cooed and smiled at him before passing Ezra, her results.

"Fuckin' 'ell Lydia. Ten A-Stars." Lydia bit her lip and Ezra put his arm around her. "That's amazing."

"I can't believe it. I am sure I am going to get a letter telling me that there has been a dreadful mistake."

"No. I doubt it. I always knew you were a geek."

Lydia grinned and kissed Ezra on the cheek. "That's for Tuesday. Thanks for being so understanding. I gotta go, Mum is waiting."

Ezra watched the girl skip towards the road and gave a sigh. He would have to walk the three miles home; his mother said she was too busy to pick him up, but Ezra didn't care, he had some entertainment lined up!

Ezra walked towards his village. It was a few miles away but would only take an hour or so to walk. He didn't intend on going straight home, and stopped at a little hamlet. There was a small common there, consisting of a car park for tourists, an ice cream van and a telephone box.

Ezra sat down on the bench and looked out over the view. He rummaged around his bag and picked out the bottle of vodka he had stolen earlier in the day.

This was his results, and he was going to celebrate it. His stomach rumbled, but he ignored it, opening the litre of alcohol and taking a big swig.

And then another.

And another.

And then a few gulps.

Ezra's throat burned mercilessly as the clear liquid scorched its way. His stomach lurched immediately, and he felt sick. He sat back on the bench and closed his eyes, the lunchtime sun was too bright to stare into it.

"Excuse me," a young man said firmly and Ezra opened his eyes. He was still on the bench, the vodka wasn't in his hands anymore and he was warm, sweaty and clammy to the touch.

Ezra groaned as he looked up. "What?" Ezra mumbled.

"You are across the bench. My wife and I want to eat our ice creams."

"Well I'm not fucking stopping ya."

"You sort of are," a female voice mentioned and Ezra sat up, blinking.

"Who the fuck asked you? This bench is paid for by Cheshire people. Southern cunts come here and try and nick all of our fucking benches. I bet you'll want the drink in our bottle and the cunts of our women. Fucking disgusting bastard. I'm going to give you a fucking good seeing too," Ezra ranted and the couple backed away.

Ezra stumbled around the bench and retrieved his bag and his vodka. He was hit with a sudden need to pee, stronger than he normally had. He was desperate and was about to let it go against the bench when he saw the telephone box.

The British telephone box, the lavatory of choice for every drunken teenager for decades was about to be desecrated again and Ezra sighed as he released a steady stream of pungent urine against the side of the red structure. Much of the liquid bounced onto his shoes, but he had closed his eyes, he didn't see or feel it.

He groaned as he finished, it felt good to get a relief.

"Ezra?" A voice behind him said firmly and he opened his eyes and turned around.

There was a bright light right in his eyes. A blue bright light. A blue bright flashing light.

"PC Cuntybollocks?" Ezra asked, and with his cock still out collapsed onto the ground and muttered. "Fucking hate you."

"How you feeling Ezra? Long time no see," the sergeant cheerfully said the following morning. "Headache?"

"Not really."

"Your parents are here or would you rather go back in the cell?"

"My parents are not here. Well not unless they have reconciled but they have had sixteen years to do that and haven't managed it. My mother and stepcuntage may be here. But parents no."

The Duty Sergeant, Ian Wallace grimaced. "I'll go have them brought in."

"I'd rather have a decent breakfast. Call that a meal, I wouldn't feed that to a dog," Ezra grumbled and the sergeant smiled. He removed the handcuffs from the teenager and sat back down.

"We have a decent breakfast though. You see we have to go catching vandals pissing in phone boxes."

Ezra screwed up his face. "Was that me?"

The sergeant nodded and picked up his pen. "Quite an original one really. You know we have to open a second folder for you now. Arrested seven times and you are sixteen." Ezra looked sheepish and leant on the counter. "How do you fancy going back to court Ezra?"