Page 54 of The Beach Shack Summer
“Your knuckles are white and we’re still parked.”
Tyler forced his hands to relax on the steering wheel. “So. You want to...”
“Drive? Yes. That’s generally what one does with a learner’s permit.”
“Right. Yes. Of course.” He didn’t move.
“Tyler?”
“There’s a community college parking lot about a mile from here. Big. Empty on Saturdays. No obstacles.”
“Sounds perfect.”
Neither of them moved.
“Are we going to sit here all day?” Stella asked finally.
“Just... give me a minute.”
“You’re literally more nervous than I am.”
“You’ve never seen yourself drive.”
“Neither have you!”
“Exactly!”
They sat for another moment, then Tyler started the engine. The drive to the parking lot felt like approaching a cliff edge—inevitable but terrifying.
The parking lot was indeed massive and empty, an ocean of asphalt with faded white lines and a few lonely light poles. Tyler parked in the middle of it all, approximately seventeen miles from the nearest obstacle.
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s go over the basics.”
“I know the basics.”
“Humor me.” He was stalling and they both knew it. “Mirrors first. Adjust your?—”
Stella was already adjusting the mirrors with the efficiency of someone who’d been thinking about this moment for years. She moved the seat forward, checked her blind spots, and placed her hands at ten and two.
“Seatbelt,” Tyler said.
“Already on.”
“Parking brake.”
“Released.”
“Okay. Now, the important thing is?—”
“Tyler.” She turned to look at him, and for a moment she looked younger than sixteen. “I’ve got this. But I need you to trust me.”
Trust. Right. He trusted her. He just didn’t trust physics, other drivers, road conditions, weather patterns, or the fundamental chaos of the universe.
“Okay,” he said. “Start the engine.”
The truck rumbled to life. Stella’s hands tightened on the wheel.
“Now, ease off the brake—slowly—and just let it roll forward.”
