I woke with a start, my eyes snapping open as I rolled over to check my clock. It read 6:02 and I was surprised to find myself up 28 minutes before my alarm, especially because I usually hit snooze at least twice before managing to pull myself out of bed.
On the other hand, however, it didn’t seem to strange because since I went to bed the night before, my stomach had been in knots as I was extremely anxious, and it seemed to be what had woken me up so early.
As I got into my usual morning routine, time seemed to slip by at an alarmingly fast pace because before I knew it, I was out the door and on my way to school. Once I got there, I was quieter than normal and whenever somebody asked I blamed it on sleep deprivation which they seemed satisfied with, so eventually they stopped asking.
You see, I hadn’t told anyone that I was taking a test because I wanted to suffer my shame in silence if I did fail. I went through the day in a distracted, nervous haze and when the clock reached noon, I left third period and headed for my mom’s car that was waiting for me outside the school.
I got into the car wordlessly, but she seemed to understand because neither of us said a word throughout the ride. When we reached our destination, my breathing began to quicken and my heart started pounding as my mind kept repeating the same phrase over and over again: license test.
I gathered myself as best I could and walked to the MVA building. Once inside, I went to the front desk where my driving log was collected and they gave me a ticket with a number on it and told me to wait at the seating area until it flashed on the TV screen in the lobby.
As I sat down, I tried to steady myself, but I couldn’t help it, I was just so nervous. Everything was riding on this test, pun intended: my freedom, because everyone knows that’s the main thing getting your license stands for, and my self-pride, because it’s also known that if you fail it’s not only embarrassing, but it really hurts your self-esteem and makes you question your capability to drive, despite the nine months and 60 recorded hours of practice.
Not only that, but if you fail, it just flat out stinks because now you have to wait even longer than previously anticipated for the opportunity to be able to go wherever you want whenever you want.
Also, you become a liar, because everyone hears the stories of the absolutely menacing driving instructors who just completely had it out for you to fail the moment they laid eyes on you, which just plainly isn’t true.
Anyway, as these thoughts were coursing through my brain at light speed, my number begins to flash on the screen and I solemnly make my way to the door where, accompanied by my mom, I get the car and drive it around the building to the driving course.
After about 10 minutes of waiting for a girl before me to finish her test, I am signaled to drive forward where, after my mom has left the car, my driving instructor slides into the passenger seat. He was nothing like the gnarled witch I was expecting, in fact quite the opposite – young, probably mid to late 20s, accompanied by a gentle smile and a cocky attitude.
He asks to flash my signals and lights, which I do with ease. Now, he says, drive to the course. I do so, but pretty rigidly as my knuckles appear white due to the exasperated grip I have on my steering wheel, and he chuckles and tries to urge me to relax, but my half-hearted laugh that comes out more as a cough and unsteady smile make it clear that relaxation is not something I’m going to experience today.
Next is parking, which goes pretty good considering I didn’t hit a curb, and after that is when I get on the real road. That part only takes about five minutes. Mixed with performing the basic driving skills my instructor asks questions like what sign that was and what it meant, which went well.
Although, on the way back to the building, I had a pretty bad stop at a stop sign, I didn’t really stop if I’m going to be honest, and I thought for sure I was toast. But when I looked over at him, he was just staring straight ahead and, if I didn’t imagine this, he had a smirk to his lips. But he never said anything, so I continued to head back.
We passed through the entrance and he told me to pull into any spot in the lot, which I did poorly because I was thinking that I failed, so what did it matter anyway? When I put the car in park, he didn’t say anything, so after a moment of dread I managed to squeak out, “Did I pass?”
He smiled and looked down at his clip board and said, yes, I did, and congratulations. I let out a relived laugh as a feeling of euphoria washed over me. Then got out of the car after him, trying to tame the smile that had taken over my face and remember to walk, not run, back to my mom and tell her that I had passed.
