Monkey in the Driver's Seat

“No way I’m going in this car. Not with you driving,” I shake my head firmly and retreat from the Audi.

Slamming the car door closed, Gregory walks over to me and flashes me the card, “I’ve got a freaking driving license, Swiss Roll,” he says, offended.

“Which you got yesterday.”

“Know what? Just get in the car. We’re running late for school,” he opens the car’s side door, tossing in his bag. “You were the one who asked for a ride, now stop bitching or walk to the school yourself.”

“Well I thought your father’s driving, not YOU!”

Gregory yanks open the driver’s door and slides in. He glares, “In. Now.”

Swinging my bag over my shoulder, I give him my back and walk away, “Thanks but, I think I’ll take the bus.”

“The bus left just ten minutes ago.”

I halt my steps, biting at my inner cheek. Why do I have a feeling that this morning isn’t going to end up well? Huffing, I turn back and hurry to Gregory’s car.

I slam the door closed and stare ahead, refusing to look at his mocking face.

“I thought somebody said she wouldn’t get into my car.”

I KNEW it.

I continue to stare ahead while pulling the seatbelt on in fear that it would be my last day on Earth. This monkey better knows how to drive. But when I think about it again, I realise how slim the odds are.

I turn my head uncertainly and watch as he shifts around the gear, my heart already thumping against my ribcage violently. God, save me.

“Aren’t you gonna buckle up?” I stare.

“It’s suffocating,” Gregory grimaces in disgust, before he pulls out from his house steadily, without even bothering to check the mirror.

The engine sounds odd. I frown, and look around when I notice his FREAKIN handbrake is still up.

“Gregory.”

“Don’t distract me.”

I slam my fist across and it hit his chest.

“The fuck! What was that for?!” Gregory slams on his brake and turns fully at me.

“The goddamn hand brake, idiot!” I exclaim, nervousness clear in my voice.

Gregory raises a brow, releases the handbrake, and shrugs nonchalantly. So this is how the monkey drives? I snort. I’d be the luckiest person today if I make it to school safe and sound.

The ride is quiet. The whole way, I’m gripping onto the seatbelt, praying for my dear life. Everything’s sort of fine, until Gregory seems to decide to be his typical self again.

He punches the radio on, and starts bobbing his head and moving to the music, “BUT SHIT! IT WAS NINETY-NINE CENTS!”

I punch the radio off, and motion ahead, “Eyes on the road.”

He switches it on again, “BUMMY AND GRUDGY! FOOK IT, MAN!”

I punch it off.

His hands still on the steering wheel, he turns to glare at me, “Quit it with the radio, I’m telling ya,” and with that, he blares the radio back on again.

I lay back in the seat, my eyes darting around quickly, following Gregory’s every movement. One wrong shift of the gear, or anything similar, it’d just be the end of both our lives.

I watch him steer around while moving his head slightly to the song. And just when my nervousness is about to die down a tiny bit, Gregory suddenly slams onto the pedal, jerking the car forward.

I abruptly grip onto the seatbelt, before jerking up from my seat in an alert stance again, “Slow the heck down, monkey,” I warn, my voice trembling slightly.

I fix my eyes on the speedometer, and when it hits 100, I couldn’t stomach it anymore. I feel like puking. “I said SLOW DOWN! You’re gonna kill both of us!”

And to my utter horror, Gregory, who seemingly has been pumped up by the music, slams further on his pedal, sending his car almost to a float. I jerk up from my seat, “SLOW DOWN, DAMMIT!”

The speed hits 120.

My vision starts to swim, and my ears are ringing due to the panic. My eyes dart to the side mirror, and I spot a car trying to overtake Gregory, who only accelerates his car even more.

“That rackal,” monkey curses under his breath.

“Just let him overtake, you moron!”

“Nobody overtakes me,” he states confidently.

My breath hitches.

WHAT. THE. HELLY. HELL. I did NOT just hear that. Did he somehow dip his brains in the retardation potion?

“You’re gonna kill us both!” I yell.

Impulsive as he is, Gregory steps further down on the pedal and I’m pretty sure the car’s gonna launch itself into the air at any minute. The car behind falls back slightly, before it swerves back onto its own land again behind us.

I whip my head around, glaring at Gregory, my blood veins banging against my temples madly. I open my mouth, ready to yell his eardrums out, when he proceeds to do something that send my mouth shut in shock.

I watch in terror as he pushes down a button, and when his window is fully down, he sticks his arm out, flashing the driver behind a thumb-down.

I widen my eyes to the fullest degree, not caring if they’re really gonna pop out, and say calmly, “Pull the car over, Gregory.”

“What?”

“Pull over.”

“Why?”

I give him a look, and he obediently pulls the car over to the side of the road, much to my surprise. I get myself out of the car, my stomach churning wildly around as I make my way to the driver’s side.

I yank his door open, “I’ll drive.”

Gregory stares at me, expressionless, and bursts out guffawing, “Don’t kid me. You’re gonna crash my car. That’s a fact, not a prediction.”

I fish out my wallet, dig around, and shove my learner’s license into the air in front of him. He leans back slightly, and frowns.

“I’m not gonna crash your car,” I reassure.

“Nope.”

I shove my card further until his eyes are only inches from it. Gregory pushes my arm away, “Have you ever even driven on the road?”

“Yeah,” I lie.

“How many times?”

“Four,” the moment I said it, I realise it’s not enough so I hasten to add, “…teen. I mean fourteen. Yeah.”

Gregory searches my face, and giving me his stupid shrewd look, he slides out from his seat, “Max speed’s 60.”

Fast forward to five minutes later.

“I said, maximum SIXTY! Not NINETY, goddarn it!” Gregory fumbles his hands around on the dashboard, right before his body hit the door roughly when I make a hard left. “The fuck!”

He jabs at the radio button, cutting off the song, “Focus, Swiss Roll.”

I jab it on, “I can’t without music.”

“Whoa whoa, what you doing?! Stop accelerating!”

I push my feet further down on the pedal, “There’s not even a car here.”

We’re taking a shortcut to our school, and there’s nothing but winding roads and trees and…. more winding roads.

“SLOW, DOWN.’’

“Shh.”

“SLOW. THE. FUCK. DOWN.”

I sigh dramatically, stepping on the brake slightly, “Alright alright, steady-peady.”

“You mean easy-peasy.”

“No, steady-peady.”

“Is that English?”

“No, it’s Sandy’s language.”

“No no no, keep it at this pace,” Gregory rushes to say when he notices the speedometer going up again.

Huffing, I lean back on the seat, bringing the speed to a turbo-slow 60 again. “We’re gonna be late.”

“Good. The first period is Maths, might as well skip-

I bring my brows together, pulling myself up from the cushion seat in confusion when I hear the engine groans and coughs.

“What’s happening?” I ask in panic as I try to steer the car over to the side. Gregory’s Audi chokes and lurches slightly and……then it decides to completely die out.

“What happened?” Gregory asks from beside, his face perplexed and his limbs frozen. He yanks himself forward and pats on the dashboard nervously, “Baby, don’t do this to me!”

I turn the key in the ignition trying to start the vehicle, but it only groans before it goes dead again. I flash Gregory a flat look, “Out of petrol?”

“I don’t know!”

“How could you not know!”

“I just don’t know!”

“What?!” I glare at him unbelievably. I can’t believe this monkey. I bring a fist to my forehead, defeated, “Now HOW are we gonna get to school?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m walking,” I announce, gathering my bag and shoving the door open.

“Wait, we can’t leave my baby here alone!”

“I can’t skip school! We’ve been blacklisted for how many times already?”

“Well you can’t just leave. You’re an accomplice,” Gregory reasons confidently.

I slowly turn my body to him, gaping at him in disbelief.

A probably appalling morning, check.

A probably ugly car accident, luckily uncheck.

A probably fatal urge to choke the monkey, check.

A black eye for the monkey, on the way.