She grinned at him. “Buckle up.”
He ignored her. Unimpressed. After securing her own seat belt, she slid an invisible key into the ignition and pretended to turn it. With careful, deliberate moves, she went through the motions of sliding the shifter into reverse and easing her foot down on the gas pedal as she twisted to look behind her.
“All clear, Mister.”
She closed her eyes and visualized it—driving out of the garage, turning onto the street, taking the Explorer all the way to school. Her heart began to pound. What if she forgot to check behind her? What if she ran a red light? What if she bumped another car in the school parking lot? What if—?
Her eyes flew open. Driver’s Ed. started in two weeks. She might not need to know what peristalsis was to become a lawyer, but she would need a driver’s license.
She’d gotten her permit three weeks ago. The small card had felt like freedom in her hand. For about two hours. Then Dad came home from work. In his best lawyer voice, he went over the driving basics with her, waxed eloquent about safety and responsibility, and insisted she drive around the block.
It wasn’t until they got back to the house that her panic set in. She hit the gas instead of the brake as she pulled into the driveway, and in the split second the car surged toward the closed garage door, she discovered what it was like to lose control. And she didn’t like it. She was a boat by the dock whose rope had been cut, with a giant wave bearing down on the shore. Her whole, perfectly ordered world had shifted. Dad patted her on the shoulder with a penetrating look.
“I know I don’t need to remind you how important this is,” he’d said. “Summer will be here before you know it.”
She hadn’t driven since, always finding an excuse whenever Mom or Dad brought it up. Always acting like it could wait.
That was the night the bad dreams had started.
Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the wheel, the inside of the garage suddenly dark and menacing. She blew out a hard breath. Somehow she needed to work up the courage to get back on the road before Driver’s Ed., or she might find out what it was like to be bad at something for the first time in her life.
Maybe that should be what she wanted. Then everyone could stop treating her like she was perfect and only expect the same from her as they did from everyone else. But that wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted to be good at it. She didn’t know how to fail.
Not to mention what her parents would think. The Plan required her getting her license as soon as possible so she could get a job this summer. Dad said work experience would look good on her college applications, so that’s what she must do. She would need every advantage if she was going to get into Columbia and follow in his footsteps.
She visualized herself and the Explorer driving back into the garage, then reenacted putting the car in park and removing the key. Her heart rate slowed back to normal. That wasn’t so bad.
Driving was easy when you didn’t go anywhere.
She unbuckled, scooped up Mr. Whiskers, and shut the driver’s door as quietly as possible.
“It’s a nice night.” She hoisted the obese cat over her shoulder. “Maybe we should walk over to the barn.”
Mr. Whiskers purred in her ear. He loved visiting that old barn as much as she did, and on such a mild evening, she couldn’t resist. Walking to her favorite place under a moonlit sky would be much better than freaking out about her driver’s license.
“Let’s go in and get my shoes.”
The door groaned as she slipped back in the house. Her sneakers were in her bedroom, and a sweatshirt wouldn’t be a bad idea, either.
She set Mr. Whiskers on the kitchen table. “Wait here.”
With practiced stealth, she tiptoed down the hall. As she passed her parents’ bedroom, muffled voices slipped under the door. She stopped. That was different. They never stayed up this late.
“You’re not being fair.” That was Mom. “My mother needs me.”
“And you’re not being reasonable.” Dad’s voice had an edge. “I’ve worked too hard to—”
“You’ve worked hard?” Mom’s voice rose. “You?”
“Keep your voice down. We’ve all made sacrifices.”
Rae strained to hear as Mom lowered her voice to a tense whisper. “What have you sacrificed?”
“That’s enough.” Dad’s tone transformed from lawyer to judge.
“I’m not one of your clients.”
Rae leaned closer but couldn’t make out her father’s response. What were they talking about? She held her breath and listened but heard only the creaking of their bed and quiet footsteps.
Uh-oh. Time to make herself scarce.
She resumed her tiptoeing, praying their door wouldn’t open. Five paces to her room. Four. Three.
“You still up?”
Rae spun around.
Mom leaned against the doorframe of their bedroom, a forced smile on her face. Eyes red. “You been studying this whole time?”
Rae dug her big toe into the carpet. “Um . . .”
“I’ve never seen a kid so dedicated.” She closed the distance between them and gave Rae’s shoulder a small squeeze. “Time for bed, though.”
“Okay.”
Rae waited until her mom shut the bedroom door before creeping back to the kitchen.
So dedicated. Well, she had to be. There was no room in The Plan for anything less.
She picked up Mr. Whiskers from the table and buried her face in his fur. “The jig is up, Mister.” She settled him in her arms and headed back to her room. “We’re not going anywhere tonight.”
Another meow.
“I’m disappointed, too. Maybe next time.”
Mr. Whiskers made himself comfortable at the end of her bed while Rae changed
