Jae Ham
"Seriously? Every driving instructor in town has banned you?"
"Not just Los Angeles.. the whole state. Word gets around."
I scowl at Res, who is speaking to Sage, the latter cozily sitting in the backseat of my car.
"That's not really something to be proud of, Res," I tell my brown-haired friend sarcastically.
It is Sunday morning, and to avoid too much damage, I opted to conduct this personal driver's ed tutorial in a secluded part of town.
Res swivels in his seat to survey the area. "THIS the middle of nowhere enough for you?"
"Just about. I'm taking no chances with you denting up Athena."
"As your best friend, I'm ignoring that you named your car."
Sage leans forward, her fingers curling over the back of my seat. "Why Athena?"
I smile at her. "She's the goddess of wisdom and warfare. The name also means weapon."
To Res, I frown and say, "If you're ready, then press lightly on the gas pedal while you turn the key."
"Lightly. Got it." All of a sudden, my car rams into something hard.
"Where did this fence come from?!?" I shout.
Res smiles crookedly. "These kinds of fences grow naturally in old fields like this one. It doesn't belong to anyone, and it didn't hurt the car. Let's hit the reset button and get back to my lesson," he says as if he didn't just ruin my car.
I dig my nails into the upholstery of the passenger's seat. "We have to back out of here. Foot on the brake again. We're going to GENTLY shift into reverse."
Not five seconds later, the car stops short again, making us lurch forward, our seat-belts stabbing us in our stomachs.
Res gawks at the obstacle before him. "Where did this road come from?" To my horror, he starts to back up.
"STOP! You can't drive backwards!" I yell indignantly.
"Maybe YOU can't. I'm doing it very well."
"No, seriously, stop. This isn't Grand theft auto. Road safety isn't a game," I hiss at him.
"I'm pretty good at GTA."
"You crash every car you steal."
"That's the point of the game."
I glare at him darkly. "You have to take this seriously, or we can't continue."
"I'm sorry. I'll be serious."
Craning my neck, I look over my shoulder. "Heart, how do you feel?"
She's clutching her stomach in laughter, tears sliding down her cheeks. Never mind. Hey, that's a BTS song. Suga's the one who--Ah, focus!
"Okay, then. Foot on the brake. We're putting the car into drive this time, and heading back," I instruct, my voice stern.
"Yessir!" Res makes a small salute.
"That's a good speed. Your hands are in the right position. Nicely done. We're going to make a right up here to turn back into this field. I think it was to the LEFT. Right," I say.
"That's right. To the LEFT," Res replies, sounding confused.
I scream, "NO! RIGHT!! PULL OVER! RIGHT! NO! DON'T TURN RIGHT! PULL OVER!"
Now Sage is yelling in panic, "There's no way to pull over in an alleyway. LOOK OUT FOR THAT CAT!!"
"Don't worry. I did this in the game once. I think I can pull it off." SLAM! "Woah. To be honest, I didn't think I could pull that off."
"STOP!! STOP!! You are, the worst driver, in the history of moving vehicles! The worst!!" I shout at the top of my lungs.
Res gives an apologetic smile. "Hey! I kept my promise. I didn't hurt Athena."
"You're SO lucky you didn't. But you MIGHT, somehow, somewhere, get your license someday, and I am telling you here and now that you are NEVER driving my car again!!!"
Sage Heart
My hand reaches out to grab Jae's arm, causing him to look at me, his chest heaving in fury at what Res had just done. The former's heart is glowing a fierce red and black (anger).
"Ham, breathe," I say, tightening my hold on his sleeve when he tries to shake my hand off. "I'll do it, too. Come on. Inhale."
I stare at him as I draw in some air, and to my relief, he does the same. "Now exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Now count with me. One..." We count to ten, and just to make sure, I extend it to twenty.
I turn to Res, silently urging him to apologize to his best friend, which he does.
"Jae." Green eyes meet dark ones. "I'm really sorry for wrecking your car."
The 18-year-old in the passenger's seat glances at the 18-year-old behind the wheel. "I accept your apology. Just don't do it again." Relief washes over Res' face when his friend offers a fist bump. Res quickly lifts his own fist to seal the apology.
"I guess it's a bad time to ask if I can try one lap?" I jest, shrinking in my seat when both boys looks over their shoulders to stare at me blankly. "No? Okay. I'll shut up now."
