In a small town in Illinois, named Shelbyville, a teenager was currently walking home from a day with his friends. He passed in front of the high school he was going back to in a few weeks, and he sighed loudly.
All his friends had gotten cars for their birthdays in the last few months, and he was still stuck going to school on his bicycle. It had sparked a few rounds of mocking from the people who liked to bully him, towards the end of the year, and he was tired of this.
But he was broke, and couldn't even afford a crappy car, let alone one that had some panache. His parents had told him to hold off on buying anything since he was short on money to get a car that had any value.
He walked in silence, enjoying the music playing in his head from his phone, and soon enough, reached his house.
He lived in a small townhouse, nothing too fancy, but quite cozy. But something was unusual.
Usually around this time of day, his father was in the garage, door wide open, playing around in his workshop. But right now, the garage door was closed, and his father was sitting on the porch, drinking a beer.
When his old man saw him walk up the alley to the house, he hurriedly bolted inside, a wide smile on his face.
'The hell is wrong with him?'
Walking up the porch steps, the teen looked into the mailbox, which had Hitchcock ostentatiously written on it. He expected to get some mail soon about his school loan applications, but there was nothing.
"Cory! Come inside! Your mom and I need to talk to you!"
"I'm coming!"
Cory Hitchcock, or as many of his friends knew him, Silent Light, was impatient to receive news from the bank. He had applied for a student loan a year in advance for when he would apply to college.
Cory was entering his junior year at Shelbyville high school, and he couldn't wait for high school to be over. He was already planning for college, which he knew he would get into since his grades were close to perfect.
His addiction to gaming and anime never detracted him from his studies, and he scored almost perfectly on any exam he took. His parents had given him free rein on his sleep schedule and gaming hours, in virtue of his performance in school.
Life had blessed them with two smart kids, and they couldn't be happier in life, even if they weren't very wealthy. Megan, Cory's older sister, had been just as studious, and that was how she got into a prestigious college and went on, becoming a psychiatrist.
Cory entered the house, taking his shoes off on the entrance carpet, lest his mother murder him, and proceeded to the kitchen, which was where his parents usually had their talks with him.
As he got to the kitchen, he hugged his mother, who was standing near the kitchen island, smiling at him.
"What's for dinner? Did you need me to get something from the store?" he asked, sitting down at the table, across from his father, who was still grinning dumbly.
"Son, I have good news," his father said, breaking the silence that was setting in.
Cory suddenly perked up.
"Did you receive news from the bank about my student loans?!" he asked, excitement overcoming him.
"No. Better than that."
Cory wondered what could be better than that. That's what he wanted most lately, and anything else was only a back-burner thought.
Seeing his father wasn't speaking, Cory urged him.
"Well, come on. Spit it out!"
His father kept his dumb grin as he rose from the table.
"Follow me, son."
It stumped Cory. Why even have him sit down in the kitchen if he was going to take the conversation somewhere else?
But he was curious what the good news could be, for his father to want to show him, instead of saying it.
As he rose to follow behind his father, his mother closing the march, they walked over to the door that connected the house to the garage.
Cory's excitement peaked, as he immediately thought his father had bought him a car. But he was curious what kind of problem wagon he had gotten, given their slimmer means.
His father stopped in front of the door, turning to face his son.
"I know we said that you should hold on buying a vehicle since we are tight on money, but I got this at such a cheap price, it was practically a steal. It might not be what you wanted, but I'm sure you will love it."
The tone his father used doused his enthusiasm a bit, Cory suddenly half expecting the worst rust bucket he had ever seen.
But as his father opened the garage door, letting him in first, Cory's heart stopped. He turned to his father, mouth agape, wondering if this was a prank.
"You can't be serious. This is a joke, isn't it?"
His father burst out laughing, pulling out a set of keys from his back pocket, before slapping them into his son's hands.
ραndαsnοvεl.cοm "Not at all. And it's all yours."
Cory turned back to the garage, and tears of joy filled his eyes. It indeed wasn't what he had wanted.
But it was a hundred times better.
Sitting in the garage, alone in the middle of it, making it look so much bigger than it was, was a gorgeous yellow motorcycle, a bit on the older side of time, but the style would never go out for it.
The large white Honda logo painted on the gas tank garnered attention, even through the bright hornet yellow paint of the bike. The aggressive-looking light called out a lust for driving it from inside his guts.
"Your uncle bought it off a shop across the border. The kid whom it belonged to had been keeping it in storage for so long after they rebuilt it, that the shop owner was given the green light to sell it. He got it two days ago, and after re-polishing it a bit, offered to sell it to us cheap as a gift for your seventeenth birthday coming up soon."
Cory was at a loss for words as he walked over to the bike, brushing his hand across the handlebar, eyeing the engine with awe.
Of course, Cory had his motorcycle permit. He had gotten it at the same time as his driver's licence when he hit sixteen, since it wasn't much more work for him.
Spinning around, Cory slammed into his father and mother, hugging them tighter than ever, thanking them profusely.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you! And tell Uncle Mathew I love him for me! Can I go take it for a ride?!"
"Be my guest, kiddo, hahaha!"
Cory didn't need to be told twice, as he grabbed a helmet he had from when he did some off-road four-wheeler with his friends and jumped on the motorcycle.
Putting the key in the ignition, and turning it, the engine started as smooth as butter, and the roar of it sent shivers down his spine.
Over the engine's roar, he heard his mother say, "Be safe! And don't speed!"
"Yes, Mom!" he yelled back over the roar of his new bike, before taking off out of the now-open garage door.
Cory experienced unadulterated happiness, as he hit the highway with his new ride, cranking the throttle a bit, to see what it had in store for him. For an hour, he almost forgot he had a home to go back to, as he dreamt of crossing the country on this monster of his.
"Now, no one is going to make fun of me anymore! I'll be the top dog for a while, hahaha!"
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