Joyride

Chapter Eight

Despite only racking up around five hours of driving with Ashton, it finally feels like I'm making some real progress. I feel confident behind the wheel, taking the right-hand turns with the perfect amount of speed and agility. Pulling over to the kerb is much simpler now too.

'You should drive us back to your place. I think you're ready for it.'

'What?!' I slam on the brakes, jerking the car to a stop. 'Oh, sorry!'

'You were driving slow enough that I barely felt that,' Ashton chuckles. 'But you're ready. You've improved a lot. It's time to push you even further, like driving on the main roads.'

'Are you sure?'

Ashton nods. 'Yes. We'll just start with the drive home for now. We'll gradually work towards driving in busier areas.'

Squaring my shoulders, I grip the wheel under my fingers. This old car doesn't have the same leather wheel cover in Ashton's car. It's old and weathered under my hands, the outermost layer almost disintegrating under my fingers. I suck in a deep breath and push it out through my nose.

'Okay.'

Ashton directs me, although I know the way myself, but I appreciate it nonetheless. It allows me to focus solely on the physical act of driving. First is a left-hand turn out of the street I've been driving in, then straight for a while. The road curves around and reveals cars and cars and cars backed up from the upcoming roundabout. I slowly pull up before braking and joining the standstill traffic jam. Another one.

'Alright, just stay calm, you're doing well. This is not too bad, it's not a multilane road so you don't have to worry about changing lanes. When you're edging forward, keep your eyes on the car in front of you. A lot of accidents in traffic jams happen because the driver isn't paying attention to the car ahead of them.'

I breathe out, tight, through my nose, keeping my foot company with the brake pedal. My shoulders are tense, taking the brute force from my hands gripping the wheel.

'You can relax,' Ashton says with a soft smile. 'Traffic jams are mostly sitting around. Remember?'

I return the smile, but I can feel it doesn't quite reach my eyes.

'How are you feeling with all this driving? Confident yet?'

I pause before answering. 'I feel a little better today, but I'm still really nervous.'

'It'll pass. Just keep working hard, and your confidence will have to run to catch up.'

I allow myself a fraction of a second to glance over at him.

'What about your studies? You seem to get distracted whenever you reach a problem you can't solve.'

He sighs, leaning back in the chair. 'I know. I'm trying to fix that but... it's hard to focus on boring stuff that I have no interest in.'

'Ah, because you're into that whole chocolatier thing, right? But surely you'll still need maths for that.'

My focus is back on the car in front of me, but I still see Ashton freeze in my peripherals. When I spare him a glance, he's relaxed back into the seat.

'You'd be surprised,' he grins.

'Really? Huh. How'd you get into that? Seems like such a fun career goal.'

'I've always wanted to do it. When I was a kid, I watched a ton of videos on chocolate patisseries. It was all I did for three weeks straight.'

'That's cute,' I laugh, sneaking another sideways look at his wide smile.

I've never thought too hard about my career. It's still early enough in the year for me to change my mind before I settle on something to apply for at university. But anything I can think of seems to pale in comparison to Ashton's plans to move to France.

'Have you had any hits on your tutoring posters?'

'Nope,' I shrug.

'That's too bad,' he murmurs.

The traffic begins to crawl forward, and I turn my attention back to the road, carefully following the car ahead and remembering to maintain a safe distance behind. The momentum quickly dwindles and slows to another stop.

'If you get tired, we can switch. The traffic is slow enough you wouldn't even need to pull over.'

'I think I'm alright for now, really. But thanks, I'll let you know if I feel tired or anything.'

A silence falls in the car. I stare ahead at the car in front of me. I've long since memorised the number plate, 8LAK3. 

'So... every time I try to ask about your parents, you change the subject.'

I freeze. My neck strains taut and I grip the wheel even tighter. I'm going to have the aching back of an old woman soon.

'Look, you don't have to tell me anything,' Ashton holds out his hands. 'But if you want to talk to anyone about anything, you can talk to me. Mum says I'm a good listener.'

I'm hesitant. I watch the traffic with a careful eye. I try weighing the pros and cons of being honest with Ashton but my mouth opens before I can list anything.

'I haven't seen my mother in six years,' I admit.

'Six years?!' Ashton exclaims, before sitting up straighter and restraining himself. 'Excuse me, continue.'

'And dad hasn't been home from the office in two weeks.'

'Two weeks?!'

I nod, keeping my lips tightly sealed.

'Well it's no wonder you don't talk about them.'

I'm about to contradict Ashton's statement, but the traffic picks up. My teeth gnaw at my lip as the cars begin to gain speed. There's an opening ahead. At the end of the road, a police officer redirects traffic away from a closed road.

'Oh no,' I breathe.

'What is it?' Ashton cranes his neck, spotting the officer. 'Oh, it's just a cop. Relax. He's redirecting traffic, not breath-testing.'

I exhale sharply. 'Yeah, sure. Just redirecting traffic.'

The officer bends down to talk to every driver through their window, leaning on the frame. He smiles and chats with them, which eases my nerves somewhat, but does nothing to quell my racing heartbeat.

The cars slowly thin out and I gently press on the accelerator until we've reached the front. The cop gestures for me to roll down the window, which I do, and he leans down on the window frame. I tense, forcing myself not to lean away.

'You're under arrest,' the cop says with a solemn face.