Page 82 of Vince
Vince
“When you hearthe engine rev, let out on the clutch. There’s a sweet spot where the gear grips, and you’ll move forward,” I say as I explain to Sydney how to drive a stick. I’ve already shown her how to listen to the engine to know when to shift, but I want to make sure she knows how to start out in first gear.
“I can hear the difference. Does it feel that way under the pedals?”
“Yeah. I’ll let you get the hang of it in the parking lot, then we’ll go out to some hills. If you can consistently start on a hill, you can drive this anywhere.”
“Why is it such a big deal to start on hills?”
“If you’re on a hill, and you take your foot off the brake with the clutch in, you roll back.”
Sydney’s confidence waffles a fraction, and I see from the corner of my eye, her hard swallow.
“Don’t worry, I know the perfect spot to teach you, and you won’t have to worry about rolling into anything. I won’t let you fail.”
After a few more pointers, I pull over and hop out. “The only way you’ll learn is by doing it. So, you’re up, Syd.”
I expect her to hop out of the Jeep and meet me halfway but to my surprise, she remains seated in the passenger seat. When I reach her door, I open it as I ask, “What’s wrong?”
She’s biting on her lower lip, staring out the windshield. Eventually, she admits, “I just don’t want to ruin your Jeep.”
“If you only knew how bad Vanessa was at first, you wouldn’t even hesitate. My parents would only buy us a vehicle if we learned how to drive a manual transmission first. Then we could choose. Of course, we put this Jeep through the wringer, but if it survived the two of us, then I’m sure it can take your abuse with ease.”
Sydney huffs defensively, “I’m not gonna abuse the Jeep on purpose.”
“Since when do you back down from a challenge?” I hedge.
Immediately, her shoulders stiffen, and she glares in my direction. “Since never.”
That’s what I thought. “So… what are you waiting for?” I shrug, knowing this will go one of two ways. She’ll rise to the challenge, or turn her efforts onto me and get pissed.
“Okay,” she huffs. “Let’s get this show over with,” she grumbles as she hops down from her seat.
I grab her wrist as she tries to stomp by me and turn her to face me. “Hey, I’m on your side… always. No need to be upset.”
The tension she’s been holding onto releases with her exhale. “I know. I just don’t like looking like a fool. I may suck at this.” She bites on her lower lip as if she’s contemplating all the things that can go wrong.
“I don’t see any fools here… so stop. There’s always a learning curve, and not everything comes natural to people. It takes time and effort. We’ve got the time, are you ready to try?”
“Yeah… let’s get this over with.” Her grimace returns when she thinks I can’t see her.
She looks sexy as hell when she hops into my Jeep and takes charge of the vehicle. After adjusting the seat and mirrors, she pushes in the clutch with her other foot on the brake and starts the engine. Since I left it in gear, she eases her foot off the brake and tries for the gas. The engine revs. “Slowly release the clutch,” I remind her as she presses the accelerator.
Like a pro, she finds the sweet spot with ease, and we creep forward. As we get up to speed, the RPMs climb on the tachometer gauge. She hears when it’s time to shift, so she uses the clutch to switch into second gear. It’s a little jumpy as she releases the clutch a bit early, but overall, she’s getting the hang of it.
When we reach the end of the parking lot, she slows down too fast before reengaging the clutch, causing the Jeep to sputter and stall.
“Shoot.” Sydney panics and hits the brakes harder than necessary, causing us to rock forward in our seat belts.
“Don’t worry. This happens,” I encourage. “Just put it in gear and start over as we turn the corner.”
She gets the Jeep going again and when it’s time to slow down, this time, she downshifts with ease, making the next turn. Granted, we never make it out of third gear, but she’s able to easily toggle between the gears. After a few more trips around the parking lot, she’s ready for the road.
“Let’s pull out of the lot and hang a right.”
“You want me to drive this on the road?” Her panic is faint, but I can still hear it. The fact she’s gripping the wheel as if her life depends on it is another tell, but I don’t let her know I’m sensing her stress.
“We’ll stick to flat streets for now. Promise. Worst-case scenario, I’ll hop out and drive if you get uncomfortable.”
