By Rita Feutl
Nick simply desires to exchange the television his sister unintentionally broke sooner than their foster mom and dad discover. To pay off the debt, the sixteen-year-old has to scouse borrow motorcycles, holiday them down and rebuild them to promote. however the debt and the violence continue to grow. Even Nick’s personal loved fixed-gear bike—the fixie he outfitted along with his dad—is up for grabs.
Should Nick recruit more youthful “runts” to do his soiled paintings? may still he have the option to provide again the motorcycle of the lovable lady on the diner now that he type of likes her? and the way can Nick safeguard his little sister from the creepy man with the colours?
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Extra info for Bike thief
It’s easy to dodge the early-morning joggers out trying to work off the pounds they put on sitting in their offices all day. I make my way to the bike path deep in the ravine, crunching over the falling leaves, breathing in the autumn air. I ride and ride, wheels thrumming on the pavement, making distance, flying, trying to escape. After an hour, I’m starving. The way home takes me right past Ida’s Diner. I don’t have any money, but I pull up to the side of the building anyway. I watch through the window as Mandy grabs the coffeepot and heads for the tables at the back of the restaurant.
After tonight’s haul, I just need five more bikes. Then I’ll be done. Chapter Eleven My pillow feels hot and lumpy. The night is crawling by. Will Stevie give us up? Will the cops show up and drag me from the house—in front of the Radlers? In front of Katie? As soon as it’s light out, I dress, snap on my helmet and head off on my bike. I need to ride. It’s easy to dodge the early-morning joggers out trying to work off the pounds they put on sitting in their offices all day. I make my way to the bike path deep in the ravine, crunching over the falling leaves, breathing in the autumn air.
Katie grabs my sleeve so I’ll look at her. “It’s…it’s nothing. I just felt like being outside. I wanted to ride. The weather’s been so great, and my leg…” My voice drifts off. I’m hoping for some sympathy. “Is your leg that sore, Nick? Are you doing your exercises? ” Mrs. Radler looks worried. Katie smacks my arm. “You don’t skip school for half a week and make up your own rehab,” she says. “You’re supposed to be good at school. Mom always said…” I stand up and cut her off. ” I’m angry again, and my voice goes up.
Bike thief by Rita Feutl