A/N
Are indentions necessary? Please PM me or Review with an answer knows Brom is his dad. I used them as synonyms to not wear one or the other out. Also, most of my engine knowledge ends after classic cars and I won't focus this much on details on newer cars unless you all enjoy it, then I can research some. As far as drifting, I've never learned and won't act like I do. I'll keep it generalized after some much needed research on that too.
Chapter 2
Eragon
When Brom first said yes, he was ecstatic. Now, he had never been this nervous. He got his license as soon as he turned sixteen, flying through the instructor's instructions, without an ounce of nerves. He wasn't a nervous person. This was different. He was learning to drive manual after a year of driving the automatic, midnight black 1968 Chevrolet Camaro that he and his dad built from the ground up, starting with a pristine body and a few parts. The automatic tranny was forced on him after convincing his dad to put a 454 big block inside. His dad said yes seventeen days ago, but he bought a five-speed tranny, which arrived ten days ago, and put it in his Camaro, also with his dad's help.
Eragon was watching intently from the passenger's seat as Brom casually walked to enter the driver's side. Brom, as soon as the door opened, stated with a serious voice "let's establish this again, you are not to redline this car. It is a big block and will blow the engine before you pass the eighth of a mile mark."
Eragon nodded, already informing his dad he drag races majority of friday nights at an abandoned one mile drag strip. He didn't, however, know of his interest in street racing. Without a manual transmission, he strictly raced for bragging rights. He lost almost every drag race while refusing to street race. He didn't have the skill, but that was next on the list.
He had been comparing professional instructors ever since his dad accepted his offer. A man named Oromis was high on the list, with an exceptional record in his younger years, but was also high on the price. The others had half the experience or less and were mostly self-taught, however, their prices made up for it. Another problem was his training track was just outside of Surda, a small town called Weldenvarden, a several hour drive from his house. That presented another prob-. "Son, are you paying attention?" Brom asked, agitated.
"Sorry, I was sidetracked with something at school," Eragon half-lied due to the fact that he researched in class occasionally. Refocusing on his father, he watched eagerly in anticipation to learn.
Hours flew quickly as Brom drove, then gave the keys to Eragon. By the time they were done, driving a five-speed was just another habit. "He might have some of my genes after all," his dad joked to Selena, walking back inside the house.
"As long as he doesn't follow into his father's footsteps…" Selena teased, hinting at her husband's lawless teenage years before he got his professional start, with numerous close-calls.
"Don't forget, one of those races is where you two met," Eragon retorted, remembering the story vividly. Both parents gave him a look that stated "that's no excuse to race," causing him to smirk.
The rest of the afternoon was a blur, identical to every Sunday before it. But, sadly,it was the last.