"Brakes grabbed too aggressive—locks the front wheel easy. Next time, engine brake smooth with a downshift first." She steadied the bike calm as ever, zero judgment in those eyes.
"Okay, it was good."
"Straight line drill now—claim your lane on this empty road, eyes far ahead like you're staring down destiny. Hold throttle steady around 2000 RPM purr. Roll twenty feet clean, stop pretty. You ready, Emily?"
Nerves jangling wild, I kickstarted again—clutch feather-perfect this round. Glided smooth ten feet... then a sneaky slope dipped, and panic twisted the throttle too eager. The bike surged wild, clipping 15mph in a blink, wind whipping hard.
"Too fast—shit, help, Ana!"
I wrenched the brakes mid-wobble, rear fishtailing gravel fireworks as the engine cut again. Tumbled off-balance straight into her waiting arms, helmet clonking her shoulder soft.
