It’s my first time driving. He’s moving his hands, palms outstretched in opposite directions to show what my feet should do.
“…raise your foot up until you feel the bite.”
I don’t feel anything bite. The car is full of rank oniony sweat mixed with mint from the Polos he’s obsessively crunching. I’m not allowed to touch the window. The aircon apparently won’t work with it open.
I ‘mirror, signal’ again as he nods.
This was my Birthday present. I wanted an iPhone. FML! Secretly my aim now is to get good enough to drive us both off a cliff.