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The ride back to his student accommodation didn’t really register on Joey’s mind. He pedalled the anger out of his body, with each thrust of his legs he felt calmer, or at least less fraught. Fumbling with the padlock and chain he secured the frame to the rack and buzzed himself in. He had no thoughts in his head that made sense to him and simply flung himself face down onto the bed, still drawing deep breaths from the exertion.
After a while he relaxed and let his mind become focussed on that bench, the cyclist and his recent experiences, but it was always coming back to the cyclist. There was something. He wasn’t sure if it was something he was missing from the picture he had in his head or just a feeling that he felt ok with the meeting. No. He had been used and the other guy knew about it. And he seemed happy to acknowledge it. And that made him feel, well, perhaps less angry now if he allowed himself to admit it.