"Same here. It's not right when it's all quiet." Bobby agreed quietly, lifting his shoulders as he watched John running his thumb over the flame. He'd seen John do that a couple of times; the flame was different when John controlled it, it seemed more graceful, if that was possible, rather than the errant wildness of its nature. He wondered why John did it, let the flames burn him.
There was a moment, when John tilted his head right, that Bobby caught the light and the younger teen just stared at him for a moment before he ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck. Bad Bobby. He shrugged, "Wouldn't know," he admitted, "I'll go see her when you do," he tipped his head and smirked at his best friend before he leaned back in the seat, bending one leg so that his foot was on the edge of the chair and he could wrap his arms around his leg, tugging it against his chest and resting his chin on his knee. "I know a few people are going to see her, some of the kids talk about it, even though I don't think they're supposed to."