Andy
My Dad has always said I have a saviour complex, a need to fix a problem. He claims I got it from him, which pissed me off because I never wanted this curse, but I just can't control myself. I was hoping after Pia it would go away, but no, I just had to open my big mouth and bait Claire into telling me why she doesn't drive, and now I have a problem that I feel I need to fix.
Why did I push it? So what if she doesn't drive? It wasn't directly affecting me in any way. I don't even like the girl yet now I feel compelled to help her. She's probably just going to yell at me or slam the door in my face again anyway, which means I get out of doing this, but my stupid brain convinced me I still had to give it a shot.
I arrived at her house with plenty of time to spare. The last thing I needed was being late on my second day at Brixton. My heart was in my throat as I timidly knocked on the front door. Seconds passed that felt like hours before I heard the shuffling of feet on the other side, and when the door flew open, there stood little Miss Unimpressed herself.
"It's 730, school doesn't start until 9." She tells me in her 'I know everything' tone.
"Well, it's a good thing you're already dressed and ready to go." I fake a laugh, trying to mask my pathetic insecurity.
"Of course I'm ready, you didn't say what time you were coming, and it's not like I have any way to contact you." She says, giving me her best 'butter wouldn't melt in my mouth' smile of innocence. She's actually beautiful when she's not scowling, not that I'd ever tell her that, though.
"I had an idea, something we could do before we go to school." I tentatively try to ease into my plan, not wanting to scare her off before she gives it a chance.
"You had an idea? Should I alert the media, let them know of the breaking news?" She teases me, laughing to herself, but when I don't join in she composes herself and the scowl reappears. "Well, are you going to share this brilliant idea with me, Andrew or is this just another game?"
"I was thinking we could go for a quick driving lesson?" The words roll out of my mouth so fast as if to prove that I have no control here, the saviour complex is in full swing and there's no way he'll let me hide from my duty.
"No." She says flatly, shaking her head.
"Why not? If you're worried about traffic, we'll just stick to the back streets until you get your confidence up." Why am I pushing this? She said no, she doesn't want to participate. I can just walk away, so why am I not just walking away?
"If I crash your car, then you'll never let me live it down." She says, her eyes burning into mine, she's terrified of what might happen and not excited for what will become of this.
"Claire, if you crash my car, then your dad will just buy me a new one, so either way, it's a win." I chuckle, and my heart skips a beat when I manage to earn a smile from the ice princess. "Besides, have you seen my car? It's been pranged plenty of times before, you'd probably be improving it."
"Just the back streets?" She asks me, needing confirmation before committing to anything.
"Just the back streets, until you get comfortable," I promise her, handing over the keys to my car. This could be the biggest and most stupid mistake I've ever made, but I had a voice in my head telling me I had to do this.
If I thought Claire looked terrified on the doorstep, that was nothing to the full-blown panic attack threatening to overtake her just sitting in the driver's seat.
"I can't do this, I can't do this." She repeats to herself over and over, her breath becoming more hitched.
"The only person in your way right now is you," I tell her. It's a phrase my dad uses in counselling. I used to hate his little sayings, but now, after Pia, I find I'm needing them more and more just to pull me through. "What are the steps you need to take before starting the car?"
"Seatbelt on, check my mirrors and put the key in the ignition." She says, going over the checklist like a pro as she slides her seatbelt on. She knows what she's doing; she just has to push the fear out of the way. I watch as she adjusts the mirrors, taking her time to make sure she's got them into the right positions.
She turns the key and the car's engine roars to life. She flicks the blinker on, checks for oncoming traffic in her mirrors and blind spot, and when she doesn't see any, she slowly releases the brake and pulls the car away from the curb. It might be a small victory to some, but to me, this is huge. She's driving.
The heavy breathing returns as the car crawls down the street at a snails pace and I'm just grateful the roads are empty; the last thing she needs is some arsehole blasting their horn behind her. That would knock the confidence.
"Turn up Taylor Avenue," I instruct her. She stops in the middle of the road, puts her blinker on, looks both ways three times and then turns. "Come a little bit more over to the left."
"I don't want to hit the cars parked on the side of the road." She panics, her voice high-pitched.
"You won't hit them, but you can't drive in the middle of the road; you have to stay in your lane." I try to sound as calm and soothing as I can without adding to her pressure. She glides over to the left and makes a funny little squealing noise. "Everything ok?" I check in on her.
"Yeah, I just make noises when I get nervous." She explains, and I'm hit with the reminder of little Claire, when she was around six or seven, our families stayed in this old cabin in the woods, and my eldest sister thought it would be funny to tell Claire the place was haunted. The exact same noise came out of her that night, too. I'm not going to lie, it's adorable that she still does that when she's scared.
"You're doing really well." I encourage her and there's no hiding the smile that crosses her face; it's beautiful and bright like a ray of sunshine poking through the storm clouds. She has this natural glow on her cheeks, I've never seen that in a girl before. I can't help myself from sneak peeks at her, but I like the fact that she has no idea I'm looking at her; her eyes are firmly fixated on the road in front of her.
"Should I turn up Mahogany Crescent or onto Vivian Street?" She asks as she approaches the end of Taylor Avenue.
"That's up to you, you're driving," I tell her, and she gives a little nod of recognition, never once tearing her eyes from the road. She flicks on the blinker to turn right, onto Mahogany Crescent, but this time she's positioned the car a lot better and turns onto the next street with ease. I hear a little noise of joy escape her, proud of her own efforts, and so she should be.
"This isn't all that bad." She comments as she comes around the cul-de-sac slowly, following the edge of the road like a natural.
"What are you actually afraid of about driving?' I ask her, wanting to get to the real issue so that we can tackle it and move on.
"Having an accident or causing one." She admits, the red blush returning to her cheeks. "I'm scared I could hurt someone."
"We could seriously injure ourselves in chemistry, but that doesn't stop us from wanting to experiment." I point out, hoping that if I put it in an analogy she relates to she will see why the fear can be overcome.
"Yes, but we learnt about safety procedures to prevent accidents from happening." She replies, looking a little confused about the connection I'm going for.
"And I will teach you safety procedures to prevent accidents on the road," I promise her, earning me another breathtaking smile.
"Have you ever had an accident?" She asks me tentatively, like she's unsure if she should be questioning me on anything.
"Nothing major," I answer her honestly. "Just when I first got my licence and I thought I knew everything, I would speed out of our driveway, and so many times I hit the fence posts because I didn't line my car up correctly."
"Is that why the car is dinged up?" She giggles, and it's like a music box playing a sweet tune.
"Yes, but I didn't cause all those prangs; this was Gabby's car before it was mine." My sister was notorious for hitting anything stationary, the fence, the brick wall at school, a pylon in the parking garage at the mall.
"Really? But Gabby is such a careful driver now." Claire remarks as she turns back onto Taylor Avenue. The streets are just starting to get a bit more activity with everyone leaving for work and school, and I'm sure she wants to get back home before she has to deal with traffic.
"Yes, now she is," I agree, shaking my head. "She bought herself a brand new car and doesn't want it to end up like this one."
"Ah, I see." She says with a hint of laughter in her tone, Claire and Gabby are good friends, she knows my sister is accident-prone, in and out of the car. "Hey, umm, can we not tell anyone that we did this?"
"Ashamed of people finding out that we're hanging out together?" I ask her, only half joking.
"No, it's not that, I just don't want anyone to know I'm finally learning how to drive, it's not because of you or anything." She rushes to make her point clear, thinking she's offended me.
"Alright, but why wouldn't you want people to know?" I ask, confused. She should be proud of her efforts, not trying to hide them.
"I just don't want the same pressure I faced when I first got my learner's. I hate when my friends laugh and say they'll be handing in their licences if I'm on the road, I know it's a joke, but..."
"It's not funny, and it does nothing to help your confidence." I finish the sentence for her, and she nods. I can relate, not to people judging my driving, but their opinions on my life, sometimes, others just need to know when to shut the fuck up.
"I won't tell anyone," I promise her, but it's a promise that comes with a condition. "But only if we do this every morning before school."
She thinks about this for a moment, and I can almost see the inner turnings of her mind as she calculates her answer.
"Deal." She says, turning onto her own street and bringing the car to a stop on the curb outside her house. She's taking a chance on herself and on me, and I like it.