Jimmy was on the pavement again. He had fallen off his bike, again. His mentor, Arthur, was berating him, again.
”You’ll never thread the needle if you keep that up!” He yelled.
”What does that even mean?” Jimmy said, staring at the pavement, the solid gray color was almost comforting.
Arthur helped Jimmy up. The comfort of the pavement was replaced with the roughness of Arthur Handel, the so called ‘best cyclist’ in all high school.
Arthur hand agreed to teach Jimmy in the so called ‘Art of Cycling Via Threading of Needles,’ a technique created by Arthur himself. Why Aruthur did this, Jimmy didn’t know. He had asked, but Arthur always mumbled the awnser.
”Kid, you’re getting better you know,” Arthur said. He always called Jimmy kid, even though they were the same age.
”Yeah, yeah,” Jimmy waved his hand dismissively.
”No it’s true!” Arthur yelled,”You just need to turn better.”
Suddenly, a group of high schoolers on bikes came up to the duo. One, who they knew from experience was the leader, had a helmet with flames on it. These guys were part of the ‘The Art of Cycling Via Strength of Flame’ technique, and the main reason Jimmy wanted to practice cycling at all.
“Whatcha doin’, chumps?” The leader, named Lando, said,”Doing chumplike things?”
“I’m training to beat you!” Jimmy yelled, already furious at the man with the flame helmet.
Lando chuckled. “That’s cute!” He said.
”You call me busting my chops everyday to crush you cute?!” Jimmy only felt rage at Lando.
”Okay, it’s adorable!” Lando lifted his hands off his bikes handlebars to adjust his helmet,”Point is,if you think you can beat us, you’re wrong!”
”The Flame Art will crush your attempts!” A random Flame Technique member, towards the back of the group, yelled. Lando, looked at him, and muttered something under his breath.
”Yeah, what he said, I guess...” Lando looked disappointed.
”Hey, kid,” Arthur said,”Isn’t it time for you to go home?”
”What?” Lando looked at his watch,”Oh shoot! Mom with kill me if I don’t get home now!”
He sped off, with the rest of the Flame Technique members following him, though no one, not even them, was sure why.
Jimmy shook his fist in the direction they went in, sputtering random sounds of rage. Arthur put his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. Jimmy tried to cam down after that.
The Flame Art group was a merciless bunch. They preyed on weaker Cycling Techniques, and frequently forced them join the Flame Technique. If they didn’t, their bikes were stolen soon after. Jimmy’s brother refused to join, and soon, he faced the consequences. Jimmy had promised to get the bike back, no matter the costs.
”Kid,” Arthur said, snapping in Jimmy’s face. Jimmy wasn’t aware he had spaced out.
”Sorry, what?” Jimmy asked.
”You’re ready.” Was the awnser.
“For what?” Jimmy asked, more confused than ever by Arthur.
Arthur turned around and motioned Jimmy to follow him.
”It’s time you learn what threading the neddle means.”