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My feet don’t reach the pedals, and the seat is so low that the sun blinds me. I pull up on the button to raise the seat, which moves comically slow. Then, as if that wasn’t enough, I have to move it forward, which somehow takes twice as long.
“Any day now,” he says, laughing.
“Oh, be quiet. If you didn’t have stilts for legs, this would be done by now.”
“It’s not my fault you’re fun-sized.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not even that short.”
“Compared to me, you are,” he says.
“Everyone is short compared to you. Have you noticed the height difference between you and Sadie? It makes her look like a sardine.”
“She is a sardine. I’m surprised she can reach the pedals at all.”
I chuckle.
Sadie stands proudly at five feet, but if anyone asks her how tall she is, she’ll add an inch or two. I’ve always been the tall friend when it was just us, so this whole Caleb-is-way-taller-thing is really throwing me off.
I grip the steering wheel, focusing on the parking lot ahead. I wait half a moment. Then I turn to Caleb. “Okay, I did it. I sat in the chair.” I reach for the door handle.
“Hold your horses,” he says.
I cringe. “You said all I needed to do was sit in the chair.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to drive? Not even a little bit?”
“You don’t get it. It’s not like I don’t want to drive. I do. I hate relying on everyone else to take me places, but I can’t.”
“When was the last time you tried?Reallytried.”
It’s been a while. I tried right after it happened, and the panic was so intense that I’ve avoided it ever since. The idea of driving has turned into a mountain so tall I don’t even want to attempt to climb it.
Caleb turns down the music so his voice is the only thing I hear. “When something’s hard for me, I try to work on it a little at a time. When I do that, it doesn’t seem so daunting.”
“I don’t know how to do that. Especially not with driving. It’s an all or nothing type of thing.”
He takes a deep breath, gazing into my eyes. He thinks for a moment, then nods. “Five feet.”
“What?”
His soft smile steadies me. “Just five feet today, ten feet tomorrow.”
Five feet.
A small distance. So small I’d barely have to touch the gas pedal.
I bite my lip, closing my eyes as I lift my hands to the steering wheel again. My fingers wrap around it so tight that my knuckles go white. My heart speeds up at the thought of moving forward, but it doesn’t stop me from hovering my foot above the gas pedal.
“Whoa, wait a sec.”
“What?”
“I’d suggest opening your eyes,” he says.
I pry my eyes open. “Right.”
I take a deep breath and push my foot down. The car lurches forward, and I slam on the brakes with my elbows locking my arms straight in front of me. My curls bounce, falling into my face.
