#178: Drive

The car halted so quickly, Peter felt his neck snap forward. He felt the anger rise in him, but the newness of it all neutralised the acid taste at the back of his throat. He turned and looked at Grace. Her hair was falling down the front of her face, clinging to her forehead as tiny beads of sweat glued stray strands in place.

She was breathing frantically through her nose and he could see the whites of her knuckles as she strangled the steering wheel.

He felt his face split wide in a smile. Seeing her get angry at herself diffused his own seething.

Her eyes turned, and then her head swivelled to face him. Grace’s eyebrows furrowed and her eyes narrowed. He forced down his cheeks to flatten his smile.

He knew trying to teach his girlfriend would test their relationship, as it had his with his father’s. When Peter learnt to drive, the first two lessons ended in the two of them physically fighting. Peter could still feel the heft of the bonnet chip at his spine.

He apologised for smiling. He added he had a greater appreciation of what she did for a living. Teaching someone something was hard. How to break down a skill that had become second nature was difficult.

Grace’s face softened, and her eyes swam under a sheen of tears. Together, they broke down the skills required to drive.