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A/N I wrote this chapter solely on the basis of the critic review I received which I am also very thankful for. I would recommend reading the end of the previous chapter once again before you start this. 

It was intended to be a short 500 something word add-on but as I started typing, I realized that maybe it wouldn't be that short. So here I am with one of the longest chapters. Without further ado - read on. 

The wind whipped through my hair and my calves burned from the effort. The pain would come - later, the agony of overworked muscles, but nothing could stop me from beating my sister today. My breath came in short gasps as I pushed myself harder still, the street blurring past. Not enough, I could see the front tyre of my sister's not-so-girlish bicycle competing for domination. With gritted teeth, hair flying like a madwoman, determination in her eyes, she challenged me to win. A challenge which I couldn't deny. It'll be fun to mock my little sister once I am victorious. She's a sore loser.

I laughed in glee at the prospect as we zipped past a startled lady walking her dog. The speed limit in the society was 15km/h. No doubt we were going at thrice of it but... who cares. It's not like I have a speedometer on my bicycle.

My sister, Sophia, is a determined demon. Oh! what she wouldn't give to beat me in every single of our friendly skirmishes. Especially if the loser has to finish both our portions of carrot-beetroot juice that mom had prepared.

That wouldn't be me today. Let her enjoy that sweet drink from hell and I'll sit back and watch her colorful expressions. I don't know where mom got the idea that carrot and beetroot mixed with plain glucose powder would make a tasty juice. They were bad enough as salad, not to mention what happens when you go to relieve yourself after eating it.

To be honest, I had a shock the first time I saw that happen. I was almost certain that it was blood. The almost is crucial. It was the difference between me running to mom or dad and (thankfully) researching a bit on net, saving myself the assuredly embarrassing and awkward conversation that might have followed.

The bicycle race was an impromptu decision made on the sight of the sickly red juice which had been placed in front of us in gigantic glasses filled to the brim.

One round of the whole society was the deal. The starting and finishing line being the speed breaker in front of our tower. It was at least a mile-long track littered with obstacles such as guards at the main gate, people walking their dogs and grumpy old ladies who just want an excuse to snap at you.

Fortunately, we were past all that having completed three-fourths of the circuit. All that was left was one last slope a last right turn.

I gave some rest to my aching muscles as I let gravity do its job. Letting go of the pedals, I whizzed down the steep slope which was an ache in the backside when climbing up but an absolute delight when it was time to descend.

'Click' sounded the gear on Sophia's cycle as she put renewed effort, overtaking me swiftly. Oops! I had taken my win for granted.

The finishing line- the speed breaker in front of my apartment complex- was in sight, just round the corner. My sister now had a good 2m lead and was right in front of me, blocking my path unless I switch for a longer one just to overtake her - clever girl. But no matter how clever she might be there was no way that I drink that juice from hell.

The sight of that scarlet liquid that would be my prize for losing was motivation enough. I pumped myself harder. Flying fast but not fast enough to beat my little sister. Determination and adrenaline coursed through my veins as I prepared myself to round the last corner.

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