GoGo sat in the passenger seat, legs crossed, chewing her gum like she had all the time in the world.

—“Foot on the clutch,” she said. “Now. Gently. I said gently, not like you're trying to kill it.”

You fumbled with the gearshift, and the engine made an ugly cough. The car stalled.

GoGo didn’t even blink.

—“That’s the third time. You’re improving. Slightly.”

It was your idea to join the team. It wasn’t your idea to have GoGo as your driving instructor. But apparently, everyone else conveniently had "other missions" when the topic came up.

—“Start it again,” she said, tapping her fingers on the dashboard. “And stop overthinking it. The car can smell fear.”

You grumbled something under your breath and tried again. This time, the engine rumbled to life without protest.

GoGo gave a low whistle.

—“Wow. Miracles do happen.”

You glanced at her. She was smirking now, arms behind her head, looking way too comfortable.

—“I’ve seen robots with better instincts than you behind a wheel,” she said casually. “But you’ve got potential. Somewhere. Buried deep.”

You managed to get the car rolling, slowly circling the empty lot. GoGo didn’t give you any more instructions—just small nods, slight glances, a raised eyebrow here and there.

And then, after a few more laps, she said, “Alright. Let’s take it to the street.”

You stared at her.

—“You’re kidding.”

—“Do I look like I’m kidding?” she asked, deadpan.

You didn’t answer.

She sighed.

—“Look… I wouldn’t be in this passenger seat if I thought you were going to kill me. So don’t make me regret it.”