Chapter 1
Right after I got back from driving school, my instructor Rashad Merrill jabbed a finger at my nose and yelled that I was dumb.
Humiliated, I squatted by the roadside and cried. Then my phone rang. The caller claimed to be a traffic officer. He said I had hit someone with my car and told me to turn myself in immediately.
I cried even harder. "Sir, please," I sobbed, "just come arrest me already! I've failed my Maneuver Test five times! I don't want to live anymore! You can come right now. Give me life in prison if you want!"
On the other end of the line, there was suddenly complete silence.
*****
His breath was thick with garlic from lunch. Clearly, he hadn't brushed his teeth.
My instructor, Rashad Merrill, yelled, "Cassandra Carter! Are you stupid?
"I told you to turn the wheel three times, and what do you do? You just drew a circle right where you were!
"Is the steering wheel your mom or dad or something? Why are you hugging it like you can't let go?"
I was clutching the steering wheel so hard that my hands were drenched in sweat.
The car wobbled in a bizarre S-curve, then crashed headfirst into the flower bed at the edge of the lot.
The engine died.
I didn't dare look up.
I could feel everyone at the driving school staring at me, their stares like searchlights burning into me.
Rashad's angry face was pressed right up against my window, glaring at me.
"Get out of the car!" he barked.
I fumbled with the seatbelt, hands shaking, and pushed the door open.
"Fifth time," Rashad said.
He lit up a cigarette, took a long drag, and blew the smoke right in my face.
"You've failed the Maneuver Test five times now," he said. "Cassandra, you're gonna go down in the driving school's history books, no doubt about it."
My eyes were brimming with tears.
"I..." I managed.
"I what!?" Rashad shot back. "Were you some kind of fallen angel in your last life? Is that why you can't even steer straight now?
"Got beef with cars or something? Just say so, and I'll hook you up with a bumper car instead."
Everyone around was cracking up, unable to hold back their laughter.
Even the other instructors and students were laughing at me.
My face felt hot enough to sear.
A sense of grievance overwhelmed me.
I wasn't lazy. I really tried my best.
I was always the first to arrive and the last to leave.
Even while eating, I'd be visualizing S-curves and reverse parking in my head.
But no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't get it right.
I guess me and this car were just never meant to get along.
"Sir, I'm sorry..." I said, my voice shaky with tears.
"Don't say sorry to me! Go apologize to the car you're about to send to the junkyard!" Rashad snapped. "Get lost! No more practice today. Just looking at you pisses me off."
He waved his hand impatiently, like he was shooing away a fly.
I just couldn't take it anymore. I turned and ran off.
My tears spilled out, one after another.
I dashed to the entrance of the driving school, squatted on the curb, hugged my knees, and cried my eyes out like a total fool.
My phone started buzzing like crazy in my pocket.
I pulled it out. It was an unknown number.
I wiped away my tears and swiped to pick up.
'Hello?' I whispered.
"Is this Cassandra?" the man on the other end asked.
His voice sounded cocky, like he didn't really care.
"Yeah, that's me," I sniffled, barely holding back tears.
"This is the traffic police. You hit someone with your car. Get down to the station and turn yourself in, now," he said.
I was stunned. Traffic police? Hit someone? What the hell is he talking about?
I hadn't even made it out of the driving school gates today.
This has gotta be a scam, one of those fake calls everyone had been talking about lately.
Normally, I'd just hang up or cuss him out.
But today, I just couldn't be bothered. I didn't even want to deal with it.
All my frustration and despair finally had somewhere to go.
I started bawling even louder.
"Sir, please just take me away already!" I cried.
My voice was raw, filled with a desperate need to escape.
"I've failed the Maneuver Test five times already!" I cried out.
"I don't want to live anymore! Just come arrest me. Throw me in jail forever. I don't care!" I shouted.
"I never want to drive again! Please, just come get me!" I yelled into the phone, my voice raw and desperate.
I screamed out all the pent-up frustration, all the bitterness, all the doubts about myself—just let it all out at once.
The other end of the line went totally silent.
After I finished yelling, my mind was just empty.
I was left there, breathing hard, nothing else in my head.
After about ten seconds, the line went dead.
I stared at the dark screen, feeling totally empty inside.
Even the scammers don't want anything to do with me. I shoved my phone back in my pocket and kept hugging my knees.
The sky was getting dark. I had no clue how long I'd been sitting there crying.
It wasn't until the streetlights came on one after another that I finally looked up.
I felt like the whole world had left me behind.