I Fall Apart

Nora

Dad and I sat in the car in the middle of an abandoned parking lot. I could tell he was beyond nervous. It was my first driving lesson. Despite the fact we lived in New York City and having a car was not really worth the trouble, I still wanted my driver's license. Last week, I'd gotten my learner's permit and dad reluctantly agreed to teach me.

"Okay," he began. "Put your foot on the brake, then gently move the car into drive."

I followed his instructions and changed the gear.

"Good," he said. "Now, gently ease your foot off the brake."

I did, then gently moved my foot over to the gas pedal. I guess I pressed it a bit harder than I thought because the car lurched forward. Dad grabbed the handle.

"Brake!!" He yelled and I quickly slammed on the brake, snapping our bodies forward. "I did not tell you to press the gas yet."

"Sorry!" I told him. "Would you relax?"

"I am relaxed," he told me as he gripped the handle hard enough to make his knuckles white. I sighed and put the car back in park.

"Should I just get Vanessa to do this?" I asked him.

"No," he insisted. "I'll do it. Now, go ahead and put your foot on the brake again and put the car in drive. Do not put your foot on the gas."

"Because who knows what will happen if I'm going two miles per hour," I pointed out.

"Don't sass," he told me. "Gently."

I did it as gently as I could.

"Take your foot off the brake," he told me again. "Now, very gently move your foot to the gas pedal and press down just a teeny tiny bit."

I pressed as softly as I could.

"Good," he told me. "Now push down a little more, very gently."

He seemed to relax a little bit as I cruised through the parking lot. When I got near the end, I turned the wheel. In the parking lot, we practiced turning, braking, reversing, and parking. There was no way he was going to let me go out on the street during my first lesson. About half an hour later, he said it was about time to head home. We switched seats and he drove us back to our apartment complex.

"Are you going to start packing soon?" He asked me as we walked in the front door.

"Ugghh," I complained. "No, I don't want to go."

"Why not?"

"Her new husband is a huge douche," I told him. "He's unemployed and I'm pretty sure he's growing pot in the basement."

"Nice," he told me as he got a glass from the cabinet. "If you're not going, you need to let your mom know."

Technically, I was supposed to be heading over to mom's some point this afternoon. Over the last couple years we'd begun to drift apart. I was getting sick of her antics. She went back and forth being clean and being addicted. She would quit for a couple months, then something would happen and she would decide she needed it again. When she was on drugs and alcohol, she was really irresponsible and absent. Half the time I went over there, she just spent her time passed out on the couch. A few months ago she married Steven and I couldn't stand the dude.

"I doubt she'd even notice," I commented as I headed back to my room. It was Friday afternoon - my last Friday of freedom before school started next Wednesday. I would be a junior at Hunter College High School. It was a school for gifted and talented kids. I'd rather just go to a normal school, but my dad thought I needed the extra challenge. This year, he was making me take an AP class, which I really didn't want to do. If I was being challenged already, why did I need AP on top of it?