Oh no! I wonder why? I forced myself not to laugh and responded with my eyes on my boots. “I’ll look forward to watching you win the next match then.” “Maybe I should make you wear a shirt with my name printed on it instead of Geraldine’s at the next match as my prize for beating you tonight,” he suggested. “That’s what you want for a prize?” I scoffed. “While I’m racing for a shiny bike of my own?” “What I’d like for a prize probably isn’t on the table,” he replied with a shrug.
