unregretable mistakes

We were escaping her tiny dormroom in Auckland, and heading towards her mother's house in Wellington. I went to pick up the car at "affordable car rentals" the day before. That morning we packed our small bags, and planned our itinerary, "First we fill the tank, then head south!" It was more of a "whatever comes our way" road trip. The calm road made me feel like a plane accelerating for takeoff on the smooth tarmac. 15 minutes after having left the city, I realized those flashing red and blue lights in my rearview mirror were for me. He was a nice officer who only seemed irritated at the fact that when asking me, the driver, if I had been drinking, Amanda decided that, as a passenger, her alcoholic intoxication level was the one being questioned. After discussing the legality of my Brazilian license and passport, I was off with only a fine to my good name. About an hour into winding up and down the first moutain range I realized a serious mistake we had made with our itinerary. I had forgotten to fill the car's gas tank. As I looked down at the desperately blinking orange light I wondered and asked Amanda, "How long do you think this light has been on? Do you think we'll make it past these mountains into the next town, or should we start heading back to the last town we passed about an hour ago?" My inappropriate calmness did not seem to apply to her as she abruptly woke from her nap, only to begin screaming at me. A nervous laughter came over me, it was either that or crying for the likely position we were to be in. Thankfully my years of driving economically kicked in and we coasted smoothly down just in time to fill the most expensive gas tank of our short trip. After that excitement I thought Amanda could use a little driving lesson, so on the first empty patch she took the wheel. In retrospect, I realize that teaching her the diference between left and right could've proven instrumental. She was doing pretty well at first, my heart rate was down and she kept us inside the lanes. As we were driving up to the T intersection opposite a cliff wall, she calmly exclaims, "Oops, that's not the brakes." Suddenly, in that split second, the car lurched forward, my heart was pounding, the blood drained from my face, I felt and saw the end, literally right in front of me. Miraculously she regained control, made the right turn, and I kept my cool until the first rest stop, where we switched back and she thanked me for not freaking out, on the outside at least.