road bike thatâs on sale,â Austin said. âYou were going to hold it for me.â He couldnât wait to see the bike in person.
The old manâs eyes lit up with recognition. âYou must be Austin!â he said, holding out his hand to shake Austinâs. âIâm Charlie Barker, the owner. I remember talking to you this morning. The bike is in the back room. Iâll go grab it and bring it right out to you.â
The shop owner disappeared back behind the curtained doorway. Austin could hear things being moved around in the back room.
At last the curtain swished open, and Mr. Barker wheeled the bike around the counter. It looked even better than it had online.
âHere it is,â Mr. Barker said. âGood thing you called when you did. This is the last one we have in stock.â
Austin studied the bike, from the front handlebars to the back tire. He reached out and ran his hand over the metal frame. He knew from his research that the frame was made of aluminum, which meant it was stiff, strong, and as lightweight as possible.
âThe most important thing to look for in a racing bicycle is weight and stiffness,â Mr. Barker was telling him. âThat effects how well your pedal strokes move the wheels. It might not be the most comfortable bike youâve ever owned, but itâll be the fastest.â
Austin nodded as he continued to inspect the bike. The front and back wheels were closer together than on a regular bike.
âWhy are wheels so close together?â he asked.
âThat makes for quicker handling,â the shopkeeper replied. âAnd see how the handlebars are positioned lower than the seat of the bike? That puts you in a more aerodynamic position when youâre racing â youâll cut through the wind better.â
Austin smiled. He could already imagine himself hunched low over the drop handlebars as he raced. This is exactly what I need , he thought.
âSo, what do you think?â Mr. Barker asked.
âItâs perfect,â Austin replied. âIâll take it.â
CHAPTER 3
A NEW FRIEND
âAre you sure you donât want a ride home?â Austinâs dad called out through the open window of the SUV. âWe could wrap your new bike in a blanket behind the front seats to keep it from getting scratched.â
Austin shook his head. âNo thanks!â he said. âI want to ride home and get a feel for the bike. I need to start practicing right away if I want to be ready for the race in a month.â
âOkay,â his dad said. âBe careful, and donât be late. Remember, your brothers have another basketball game tonight, and Mom and I expect you to be there.â
Austin nodded, only half-listening. All of his attention was focused on his new racing bike. He couldnât wait to try it out.
Austin swung his right leg over the new bike and eased himself onto the seat. He gripped the handlebars and smiled. It was a perfect fit. Looking left and right for traffic, Austin put his feet on the pedals and took off down the street.
He headed for the bike path that ran from downtown River City to his neighborhood. The bike path was familiar. Heâd ridden it a million times. But Austin couldnât wait to try it out with his new bike.
Hedges, trees, and storefronts flew by as Austin pedaled steadily, building speed. The wheels on the new bike turned smoothly. He shifted gears as he went around a tight corner and leaned into the curve. Austin hunched over the handlebars as he sped up coming out of the turn.
A yellow traffic light glowed up ahead. Austin slowed to a stop as the light changed to red. He could see the entrance to the bike path up ahead.
âHey, cool bike,â a voice called from behind him.
Austin glanced over his shoulder and saw Dylan Benson, a guy from his history class. He and Dylan had gone to school together since middle school, but theyâd never really been
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