Flexing my Favoto

I strapped my helmet on and prepared for my first solo Favoto trip to soccer practice. My dad was still at the office, and my mom was at the Rotary club, stuffing shells for the big Women’s Gala coming up on Friday; Alice had left for college 8 months ago, and I realized as I pushed the starter button that I was growing up. I felt so big in my new jacket and helmet, and I caught sight of myself in the mirror – and almost laughed! The gear was all so fancy and new, so that I think I looked like a techie, big time! I took one quick sniff at the bike and it smelled just like a new book when you opened it up, clean and crispy.

“Bye Chris, always remember to ride safely and wear your helmet, and don’t go too fast” my mom said as she bid me goodbye.

“Okay okay, I’ll try my best, but no promises,” I smirked,

giving my mom a hug and then rushing back to the bike, excited to take it out for a ride.

 As I pushed the pedals, I felt the bike move forward accelerating so fast that in the blink of an eye, I was gone. The wind blew and spat at me while I was riding, but I couldn’t care less; I mean I was on my new bike and having the time. I was vrooming up and down streets, as if I was in an action movie, but of course always stopping for stop signs and other annoyances along the journey. As I neared my training ground, I could practically see the soccer pitch in which I was going to play on. The time had come to an end as I had arrived; I took off my helmet; brought the bike to a nearby pole and locked it up. Just like my dad told me, I locked the metal chain onto the back wheel of my bike, as thieves could easily take off the front wheel and take the bike away.

“Hey Chris, oh is that your new bike you were talking about?” my friend asked.

“Yeah, it is, just got it; my dad and I actually built it ourselves; do you like it?” I asked him curiously.

“Yeah, the color of it matches so well; I mean with a bike that size how fast does it go?”

“I mean there are five different levels, but at the fastest level; maybe around twenty.”

“Dang that is fast.” We walked together to the soccer pitch.

We ran to the coach, excited to start practice, but every so often I would turn my head back just to make sure that my new bike was still there. Right as the coach called us in to do a huddle, I looked back as I was doing a one-versus-one against my teammate; I craned to get a glimpse of my bike, and of course he used the opportunity to get past me and win.

“Chris wake up, get your head up and start playing like you mean it,” my coach half yelled. 

“Yes coach, I will do better next time,” I said trying to put the thought of my bike out of my head, which just didn’t happen.

The whole time we were practicing, all my mind was thinking about was riding my new bike home, and the adrenaline of racing the wind and the taste of going so fast that your mouth goes dry. The training ended at last: I ran off to my bike, I unlocked the bike, slowly saying the code to myself 23765, 23765. I unlocked the bike, and I began to mount it.

“Oh, is that your new bike? It looks sick man can I ride it or get a feel of it?” one of my teammates said, resulting in half of my team coming over trying to get “a feel of it”.

“All right all right guys, you guys can each mount it and get a feel of it, but after that I have to go,” I said proudly as I flexed my bike feeling like an A-list celebrity.

Each person mounted the bike, got a feel and was quickly shoved off by the next person. After everybody finally got a feel, a half hour had passed. I mounted back onto my bike tired from the training but still excited to take it for a ride. As I expected, the bike quickly accelerated and I was off. I was riding like I was flexing it, drifting left and right, going in between lanes and crossing streets as if I was getting chased by the police (some of this information is exaggerated, I would always remain safe). I finally arrived home after an eventful ride, greeting my parents at the door.

They bombarded me with questions. “How was the ride Chris? Were you safe? Did your friends like your bike? Is it comfortable?”  

“I mean, I loved it; it was extremely fun. As for my friends, they seemed to be more interested in it than me, which is saying a lot. I was also definitely safe: I would never go too fast.” 

I said these things sarcastically, resulting in my mom giving me the side eye.