Chapter 306: Chapter 305.

Chapter 305. My Birthday: Training Course. (4/8)

“Isn’t the reason for your boyfriendless status and guys not wanting to date you actually just because you’re always wearing that face mask?”

“Ah…” The realization suddenly dawned on her.

“For real? You think that’s why?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm… but I can’t do anything about that. I’m Faceless’s gang leader.” She tilted her head to one side with a serious look in her eyes.

“Hello everyone, I’ll be your instructor today.”

It’s about time. I’d managed to distract her long enough for the instructor to show up.

When I looked over to the instructor I realized he was… unexpectedly normal. He didn’t look scary or intimidating at all like the receptionist. He was just a scrawny beanstalk with glasses, simple boots, blue jeans, and a blue denim jacket.

“Well, we’ll first begin with a short half-hour in-class lesson to go over some basic stuff before we move to the practical stuff outside. Please follow me to the classroom.”

Everyone stood up from their seats and followed behind the instructor to the small classroom with three rows of three desks.

The wannabe gangster girl ended up seated near me again.

“Hey, sit somewhere else.”

“This again? I sat down here first this time.”

“Then give up your seat to me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I’m a g-”

“Wannabe gang leader? Don’t you ever get tired of this? Look, just take the other corner seat and we won’t be seated next to each other. Why do you insist on taking the center seat?”

“Because the gang leader is the central figure in the gang. It’s only natural for me to sit at the center.”

“If you want to sit at the center shouldn’t you take the seat in front of you instead?

“No way, sitting at the back is cooler.”

“I see… so that’s why…”

“Huh? That’s why what?”

“So that’s why you’re such an idiot. You always sat at the back of the class where you couldn’t see what your teachers wrote on the board at the front of the class, right?”

“You’re underestimating me.”

“I am? How?”

“Even if I sat at the front, I wouldn’t understand a single thing.” She said that like it was something she was proud of.

“Hey, how did you even graduate high school?”

“With guts.”

I facepalmed.

“Are you really going to be able to pass the road test like this?”

“Heh, the road test. That’s the easiest part of getting my license. It’s not even a challenge. I’m not worried in the slightest. Rather than worrying about me, are you going to be okay? You reek of a total greenhorn.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“You don’t look comfortable at all in your jacket. It looks pretty new and isn’t worn at all, you only just got it, didn’t you?”

“Oh, that’s a pretty good observation... for an idiot.” I silently clapped and congratulated her.

“You two chattering at the back. Are you here for the class or did you want to leave now?”

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When we were called out by the instructor, the two of us shut our mouths and turned our attention to the front of the class. We didn’t speak another word and quietly listened to the instructor’s lesson for the next half hour.

When the lesson was over we were taken out to the back of the dealership which had a large open square-shaped area paved with concrete.

There were nine motorcycles painted black and blue lined up for us. They were 500cc motorcycles the training school provided us to use for the day.

The first exercise we did was simple, getting used to the motorcycle. We held down the clutch to change the gear into first gear. To confirm we were in first gear we were instructed to ease off the clutch then try to move forward. If the motorcycle stopped, we were in gear, if it kept rolling forward we were in neutral. It was pretty simple common sense stuff, but it was still completely new to me. 

Everyone else looked pretty comfortable with everything including the wannabe gang leader girl beside me. It seemed despite failing written exams she was at least good in practice.

After that, in neutral, we cranked the bikes up and the engines let out an obnoxious loud rumble. When I turned the right handle toward me, the engine revved.

I thought we’d get to go and ride them after turning them on, but I was wrong. Rather than ride them, we were forced to… push the bike around in neutral to get used to the brake.

What the hell was this hell? It was hard as hell to push this thing. For this exercise, I was stuck behind the wannabe gang leader. She was having a blast laughing at me struggling to move around with it. She looked completely comfortable compared to me and did it effortlessly.

“Hey, is there some sort of cheap trick to this that makes it easier that nobody’s telling me about?” I couldn’t help but call out and ask her that.

“Yeah, there is actually.”

“Oh? Really? What is it?”

“It’s called… get gud nub. Hahaha!”

When she finally held the superior position, she was more than happy to get even with me.

When we finished getting accustomed to the motorcycles, the second exercise began.

We got to turn them on for this one, but… we still didn’t ride them…

We just straddled them and walked from one end of the track to the next. This was apparently to get familiar with the friction zone… whatever that was supposed to mean.

“Pfft, you look like a dork.”

Once again I was subject to her ridicule. I kept my mouth shut and accepted it. I might be better with tests, but she was obviously much more experienced than me in this area.

When I didn’t say anything she slowed down until I caught up to her. When I was beside her she raised her arm, slapped me on the back, and jubilantly asked, “What? Not going to say anything back? Where’d that cockiness from before go? Huh?”

“I’ll talk shit when there’s shit to talk. Even if you’re dumb, it’s still fact that I’m not as experienced with motorcycles as you are. I’m only 16 after all.”

“Using your age as a shield and hidin behind it, what a coward. I rode my first motorcycle on my own when I was only 13.”

“Huh? That early?”

“Yeah. Shit was tough growin up. I grew up homeless out on the streets after all. Since I was young, I’ve been workin in a ghetto mechanic repair shop. We get cheap parts from junk and scrap yards in the city. But I’m dumb and don’t remember stuff easy. I do things based on what feels right. I don’t get all the small stuff for those annoying tests.”

It was my first time running into such a person. Hearing her story though… made me wonder whether she was telling the truth about the whole gang leader thing.

“Are you lookin down on me for bein a street rat?”

“No. I just thought I might need to reassess my evaluation of you if your story is true. I’m sure you’ve developed street smarts, so though you may be considered an idiot by the snobby overachieving pampered elitists attending university with their heads shoved far up their asses, you wouldn’t necessarily be dumber than them when it relates to real-world stuff that actually affects your day-to-day life.”

“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, if I was dumped on the street one day and asked who I’d choose as a partner to survive on the streets between you and one of them, I’d choose you I guess.”

“Huh? Wha-what are you’d sayin all ob a sudden? Isn’t that like a proposal? You can’t be doin that if you already got a girlfriend.”

“I take back my reevaluation of you, it seems that street smarts might be my imagination after all. Seriously, how did you get a proposal out of what I said just now? Something’s really wrong with your head after all.”

“Haha… right… I’m dumb after all. Nobody would go and randomly propose to a street rat.”

“I’ve got no qualms about street rats. I used to live with rats after all.” Though it was in another country and not for a very long period of my life.

“Huh? You lived with rats? But you don’t seem the type at all. You sound pretty smart when you talk.”

“Haaaaah. I’m not smart at all. I’m just another random idiot in the world, just like you.”

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