Both hands on the steering wheel. Her eyes towards the road. Wondering why she had to learn in that shitty car. Nevertheless, it was something she always wanted since she was thirteen: her drivers’ licence.
There was something unsettling about this young man beside her. He seemed to be between twenty five and thirty years old. Unlike the other professors, he was very young. Since the first moment she saw him, she was absolutely sure there was some piece that didn’t fit at all.
Winter was ahead. The skies were gray and ice cold. But there she was, waiting in the sitting room to be picked by the professor.
What can we say about this girl? Based upon her look, we can calculate she is around fifteen years old. Her skin is pale white, and the contrast with her dark brown and long hair just makes her stand out among the other youngsters in the room. She was wearing black tennis shoes, blue jeans, a black t-shirt and a black sweater over it. We can see she is wearing a bunch of black leather bracelets in her right wrist. In her left one, she is wearing a digital watch. It seems that almost all of her fingers have rings.
Five minutes later, she was on the street again. It was her second lesson. She felt nervous. The rain was starting to pour down harder and harder. For a moment, she thought she was not going to make it in that old and rusty car.
But the anxiety was getting even worse. The young man beside her, suddenly, was treating her different. Calling her names like “sweetie” and “honey”. Other times, he was tough on her. She couldn’t figure out what was going on with his mood swings. She just kept quiet.
Day # 3:
The young man greeted her and the entrance of the station. She frozed. She didn’t want to get in the car. But after her father left, it seemed that was the only thing left to do.
The day was sunny, unlike before. But it didn’t make the day any easier.
The young man’s attitude was worse. Besides the name calling, he was interrogating her about almost, all aspects of her life. Compliments like:
“You are so pretty, how come you don’t have a boyfriend?”
“I love your rings”
“I love your hair”
“Come on! Laugh a little bit! have people told you that you are very serious?”
“You shouldn’t be serious when you are with me, aren’t you having fun?”
“By the way… there are only a few lessons left… what are you going to give me? you know… as a present?”
Day # 4:
She was frightened. The fear of being with him again. Feeling his look on her neck. Touching her arms, her hair, her hands…
Her pale hands were turning almost red. All of those days, she had been holding the steering wheel to tight.
Day # 5:
Another rainy day. Again he asked about his “special present”. She, as always, managed to speak only when necessary. Single words. The past few days she had kept her cellphone on the opposite side of him. Just in case. This time, was different. He spotted the cellphone, grab it and put it by his side saying:
“Didn’t know you had a cellphone. I’ll keep it right here beside me so I can take care of it. Maybe we can exchange numbers you know, so that you can give me the “special present”.
“Why not? Don’t you like me?”
She didn’t answer.
This lesson was about driving up a slope. On. Off. On. Off. On and off went the engine again. She was about to burst into tears. She was frustrated, and the screaming of him wasn’t helping at all. Every once in a while, he apologized saying:
“Sorry, sweetie. Try again. I won’t say anything”
This “new” bipolar character was confusing her. This man went to one extreme to another, and the only thing that kept her inside the car with him, was the fucking rain.
After a few minutes of practicing. They went off to another place to wait for the rain to stop. They were near some house complex, where not even a soul was around. He leaned back his seat and said something about relaxing, sleep a little until the rain was gone. He even ask her to give her the “special present” at that moment. She didn’t listen. She was paralyzed, staring at her cellphone in the other side of the car.
Day # 6:
She didn’t got out of her room. Gave the lame excuse about catching a cold and having fever.
Day # 7:
Her father goes straight to the driving lessons station.
Gives the young man’s information:
Car’s identification number.
“YOU BETTER KEEP CONTROL OF WHO ARE YOU HIRING, YOU ASSHOLE. THAT MAN WAS TOUCHING MY DAUGHTER.”