Chapter Three (2)
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My breaklines were intact. Probably have to wait a day or two to be certain the tires had set, but I run to school rather than bike and practice. Mike would be happy. No early wake-up call tomorrow.

“It’s still wet, isn’t it?” Like an idiot, I reached out and touched it. Yep, still wet. “I’ll talk to Mike. I don’t want your mom’s bike rack getting ruined.”

Sean shrugged. “Don’t think she’ll care.”

“If you leave it, somebody might steal it,” Geoffrey suggested, but the corner of his lip curled at the sight of it. Nobody would want a damaged, vandalized bike.

I shrugged. “It’s fine. I’ve got to tell Mike I can’t come early until it’s fixed anyway.”

Jogging back inside,...

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