Nineteen

And that’s how I find myself behind the wheel of Spencer’s car on Tuesday, heading to see Dr. Reynolds. My parents said they’d replace my car with the insurance money if I’m actually going to drive. But I have to prove myself before they’ll spend the money.

And Spencer is on a crusade. He’s determined to find a way to get me over my fear. His current plan is to bribe me to drive to my appointment today. And my reward for doing that is getting to borrow his precious Sweeney on Saturday to go see Dr. Collins and then to pick up Ally for the game.

I’m committed to doing whatever it takes to make that happen. But it’s easier said than done and as soon as I’m behind the wheel, the now-familiar terror washes over me. I go from calm to clammy and huffing for air in under two minutes.

Lord, Cal. Just drive the damned car already.

Lizzie is impatient, which is making me more anxious, and finally Spencer reaches over and turns off the car.

He thinks for a minute, then asks, “What do you have faith in?”

“What?” I haven’t the foggiest idea of what he’s talking about.

“Some people have faith in religion, or fate, or love, or whatever. What do you have faith in?”

I look at Spencer, who is probably what I have the most faith in, but there’s absolutely no chance of my saying that out loud.

“I don’t know. Science, I guess. Cause and effect?” I offer because it seems as good as any.

Spencer nods and sits back in his seat. “Fine. So what’s the science of driving a car?”

My head fills with visions of pistons, and valves, and intake systems, but I know that Spencer couldn’t care less about how a car works. “You really don’t want me to go into all that, do you?”

A grin spreads across his face. “No, not really. I just want you to think about it.”

“Fine. I’m thinking about it,” I say sarcastically, but from the look on his face I can tell that I’m still missing his point.

“Calvin,” he exclaims in an exaggerated whiny voice that he learned for a show and that would make my skin crawl even if his use of my full name didn’t.

I take my hands off the wheel. “I hate that, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” He laughs. “Perhaps I’m just going to call you Calvin until you get this thing moving.”

I think of transmissions and fuel injection processes and of having to hear Spencer calling me “Calvin” for the rest of my life, then I turn the key and try to think about nothing while I back us out of the driveway.

I drive like a five-year-old on his first bike. I wish the car had training wheels. By the time I get us to Dr. Reynolds’ office, I’m a shaky mess and even Spencer is looking a bit green when I stop the car.

He wanders down the block to get food, or maybe tranquilizers for the trip home. I turn the other way and head up to see Dr. Reynolds. The newest yellow piece of notebook paper, the one I haven’t thrown out yet, that I haven’t decided whether to show him, is crammed into my back pocket.

I’m still a little shaky when I get to the office, which Reynolds of course notices.

“You look pale, Cal. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” I take my usual seat. “I just drove here and … it was hard.”

“I bet. Did you come alone?”

“No, it’s Spencer’s car. He came with me.”

“Well, that’s good. That’s a step in the right direction. It will get easier from here.” Dr. Reynolds seems so certain, but then he doesn’t know yet about my promise to Ally.

“That’s what I want to talk to you about. Driving, I mean. I expected it to be easier with Spencer, once I could actually do it. I’m always relaxed around Spencer. Well, usually.” And then I laugh a little because my hands are still shaking and there’s no way that I look relaxed. “Well, more relaxed than with anyone else.”

“And it will get easier, the more you do it.” That makes sense, but … even before the accident spending time with Ally probably would have made me a bundle of nerves.

“Yeah, maybe. But what about having other people in the car?”

“Like who? Your mom?”

“No. There’s this girl.” And I tell him the whole story about Ally transferring to our school and how I haven’t been able to take my eyes off her, but never had the nerve to talk to her until we were thrown together on the team.

“I’m curious what was keeping you from speaking to her before. You aren’t normally shy around girls, are you?”

I think about it. “No, but Ally … I … I’m not sure I totally understand it myself. I just thought she was out of my league. And then there was Lizzie … ”

“Lizzie? But I thought you weren’t interested in her as a girlfriend.”

“I’m not. I wasn’t. Lizzie was always telling me to talk to Ally.” I think back to the night at the theater when I was watching Ally and all of the vulgar suggestions that Lizzie was making to creep me out. “But, it’s just … right before Ally moved here I went out with this girl once.”

I have to sift through my memories to come up with her name. “Karen. Her mom and my mom worked together and for some reason they thought it would be a good idea for us to meet. She was okay. My mom dropped us off at a movie. And halfway through, my phone started vibrating. I tried to ignore it but it didn’t stop, so I went out into the lobby to check it. It was Spencer. Lizzie had called him. She found her mom unconscious and couldn’t wake her up. She’d called 911, but … ”

“You felt like you had to go over there?”

“I did. Of course I did.”

“Why?” he asks.

His question blanks out my brain. It’s like the way that old scoreboards used to be cleared, each board clacking back to a black space where a number used to be. There’s nothing in his question for my mind to grasp onto. I don’t even get it. “What do you mean, ‘why’?”

“Well, why did you have to go over there? She’d done the right thing by calling 911 and Spencer was going over there, so why did you feel like you had to leave your date to be with her?”

“Because Lizzie was my friend,” I sputter out. My chest is pounding like I’ve been running laps. I’m not sure what he’s getting at, or what he thinks I was supposed to do, or how he could have expected me to sit in the movie theater with this girl I didn’t even know when Lizzie needed me.

“So if one of the guys on your baseball team had called you, would you have left the theater?”

“No, probably not,” I say, frustrated. “You aren’t getting it.” What little sense of accomplishment I was feeling from driving has evaporated. I launch up from the chair and walk over to the window. I let the leaves of the plant run through my fingers and concentrate on breathing until I think I can talk without wanting to punch something.

Dr. Reynolds hasn’t moved. When I turn around I take another shot at explaining it to him.

“It was Lizzie. I couldn’t just watch that stupid movie with this girl I didn’t even know when Lizzie needed me. Don’t you understand that?” I thought I’d calmed down a little but I’m surprised to feel that my cheeks are getting hot and my eyes are stinging again. I don’t know what it is about this damned office that makes me feel like crying every time I’m here.

“Come sit down and try to relax, okay?”

I do as he says and then take a stab at stringing the words together. “Spencer and I had our families. We had each other. We had other friends. She didn’t. She just had us. And we promised we’d always take care of her. I wasn’t going to bail on that just to watch a movie.”

“How did the girl you were with react?” he asks.

I think back, but I don’t really remember because I guess I didn’t really care. Staying wasn’t an option.

“I think she was pissed. She had to call her mom to come get her. I never saw her again. I just told my mom that we didn’t hit it off.”

Wow. I never knew that. I’m sorry, Cal.

“So you were worried that the same thing would happen with this girl? Ally?”

His question makes me stop and think. Could Lizzie have been the reason why I was too afraid to talk to Ally?

“I didn’t want it to. I really, really wanted to talk to her. I wanted to ask her out. I thought about it every time I saw her. Every day. But I just didn’t know how to do it.”

“Because you might have to leave her to be with Lizzie?”

Blame it on me. Seriously, it doesn’t matter anymore.

“Maybe. And,” I admit, as much to Lizzie as to Reynolds, “because I was scared of screwing it up.”

“But now Lizzie isn’t around and Ally seems interested in you.”

It isn’t a question, and I’m glad, because I hadn’t thought about it like that. I mean, what would have happened had Ally started talking to me before the accident? It adds a whole other layer of guilt onto what I’m already feeling and it’s the first time I’ve really regretting talking to Dr. Reynolds.

“Cal?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” I say, trying to push all of his words out of my head. I can’t have Ally wrapped up in the guilt that’s already overwhelming me.

“So you’re upset because a girl that you’re interested in is interested in you?”

“No. I’m happy about that.”

“So what is it that’s really worrying you?”

Finally, we get to it. The whole point of my coming today. “Like I said, I told her I’d pick her up, but I can’t imagine how I’m going to be able to do it. How I’m going to drive with her in the car without losing my shit.”

“Did you think of telling her the truth? That you’re scared of driving?” Dr. Reynolds asks me.

“Of course. I just don’t want to be that guy. The one who can’t do things for her. Don’t I already have enough strikes against me?”

He looks down at my file, which I find amusing for some reason. “Well, let’s see, you’re an athlete, a good student, you have friends, people like you, you’re handsome. Yes, I can see why you think you have so many strikes against you.”

“I mean … it isn’t really like that. She’s just … I’ve been wanting to talk to her for a year and now she asks me out. I wish it would have happened before all of this. Before I was this,” I say, pointing to my chest.

For the first time he looks at me like I would have expected a shrink to. Like he’s tapped into some font of wisdom that I couldn’t possibly be aware of. “Cal, I’d strongly suggest that you talk to her and tell her how you feel. She doesn’t sound like she’ll be scared off. But in the meantime, let me ask you a question. Okay?”

I wait to see what he’s going to pull out this time but his words surprise me. “You’re playing ball and you’re down two runs in the third. The bases are loaded, there are two out, and you’re up. And you strike out and that stinks, right?”

“Definitely,” I say, shocked that we’re talking about ball.

“So now it’s the bottom of the ninth and you’re still down the same two runs and there are men at first and third. You slam it over the wall. Your team wins.”

“Okay … ”

“It still stinks that you struck out the first time. But it doesn’t take away the fact that you won the game at the end of the day. Right?”

I cough out a laugh. “You’re saying that it’s better late than never?”

“In your case, I’m actually saying that later is better. Because I’m not sure you would have let yourself explore this opportunity before. I suspect that you would have stood at the plate and watched strike three go right by you.”

It’s strange, but he just might be right. I don’t know how I would have reacted had Ally and I talked before. Could I have made the time? What would I have done if Lizzie had needed me? Now I’ve got the time to see where this can go. And although I still don’t know how I’m going to get behind the wheel of a car with her in it, I at least leave the office wanting to try.

And once again, I completely forget about the yellow list in my back pocket.