My brother stomped up the four steps to the kitchen from the hallway. Our mother stood at the stove, making another stew.
“How did it go?” I asked him, he got the glow that you can only get after being told to sit still in a chair for five hours with no real breaks and no real air. He dumped his bag by the table and slouched into the chair before he answered.
“I won’t know until the teacher grade it,”.
I rolled my eyes and smiled, throwing him a chocolate bar I had leftover from my own exam, “I know that, you idiot, how did you think it went? How do you feel about it?”
He pealed the wrapper open, both of us ignored mom’s protest that dinner was done soon. “I think it went well. It was math – I knew most of it”
“That’s good! So, you think you’ll get an A?” Mom smiled brightly like the grade had already gotten smacked onto the kitchen counter.
He looked up, our eyes met, without words we agreed that wasn’t a debate worth having with her. “I don’t know,” he answered.
Mom puffed out, laughing a little at us, then began mumbling to herself under her breath. We turned to each other again.
“Do you have any more exams?” He rubbed his forehead, I got up and poured a glass of cold water while digging up some painkillers from the tea drawer.
“Only two, how about you?”
He sighed and took the painkillers with a small thank you.
“Did you sign up for driving lessons yet?”
I froze halfway to my seat. It took a good few seconds to realize she hadn’t asked me; My eyes shifted to him.
He didn’t spit out the water, but his eyes went comically large.
“Don’t tell me you forgot again! When’s the next deadline?”
I gestured to the pills in his hands, he quickly swallowed them and rubbed the back of his neck. “I can’t remember”
Mom pursed her lips, then she smiled. “Well, there’s still a couple of minutes before dinner. Sweety, can you show him how to do it?”
Me? Why me?
I nodded, rubbing my own neck, and glanced at him. His eyes were getting wetter, I sighed. “Does it have to be right now mom? Can’t we do it after dinner?”
“You’ll just forget about it again. “
“I-alright”
I got up from my chair and headed down towards my brother's room; It would be easier to use his own computer for this. He followed me down with a sigh, and dumped down in his desk chair, turning the computer on, while I dumped myself in his bed. He scoffed, mumbling I was messing it up, which made me roll over harder. I could see the itch to kick me off, but he turned – annoyed - and angrily pushed the mouse, so the clicks echoed in the otherwise quiet room.
“That’s the website?” It was green, with big red star stickers promising low prices. It hadn’t changed since I signed up a couple of years ago.
“Yeah,” He leaned back, letting go of the mouse.
Sign-up closed in a couple of days. The date seemed to grow bigger on the screen but he wasn’t zooming in. Just thinking about it made my shirt feel too tight and the room way too small.
We didn’t move for a while, each in our own world, when he sighed and glanced up.
“… is it… weird I’m… not excited about it?”
No, it’s scary.
“I uh-“
I rubbed my nose to hide my face.
“…forget about it”
He pressed ‘sign up’. A form popped up, asking him for his details. His hands were shaking; Even from the bed, I could see it. I got up from it, and stilled behind him. We didn’t speak until he finished, the mouse lingered over the submit button.
I should tell him.
But what If it’s not the same?
“FOOD’S READY”
“… I should em-“He reached for the mouse – I took a deep breath.
The last few weeks, ever since mom brought up, he needed to sign up for driving lessons, I’d hardly been able to look him in the eyes.
Mom and dad had noticed – they’d pulled me aside, asking me not to freak him out about driving. But can’t they see he is already shaking just submitting the form?
I grit my teeth – maybe it was wishful thinking. Maybe he wasn’t scared.
Maybe I was ‘Projecting’.
.. but what if I wasn’t?
His hand lingered on the mouse. Did he even realize he stopped?
“WE’LL BE UP IN A MINUTE” I yelled back, and pulled his chair off, away from the computer, the mouse and the screen.
“wha-?”
“Shush,” I went back to the door and closed it. “Just… give me a minute before you submit okay?”
He slumped - looking relieved - into his chair. Was that wishful thinking too?
If I told him how it’d been for me, would he be scared of driving for good? If I tell him… our parents would give me the blame no matter what. They would lecture me on not ‘attaching my fears onto other people’.
They would never let it go.
But would he be happy, to not be pressured into doing something, by someone who doesn’t even know they are pressuring him?
I bit into my tongue.
“If you don’t want to, you don’t have to”.
“I- of course, I want to-“ he hastily sat up, his eyes widened.
I took a deep breath, “Let me speak without interrupting for a second - okay?”
He opened his mouth to rebut but closed it quickly and nodded. His cheeks got redder.
“Just because it’s expected of us to do things at a certain speed, doesn’t mean you have to okay? If you don’t feel ready to get a driver’s license that’s perfectly okay. Maybe next year or the year after that, when you don’t feel like this it’ll be better” I got down, padding his knee like I’d done the last time his girlfriend broke up with him, or the time before that when mom hadn’t been able to pick him up after all, and I’d had to bike to him, so he could rush home and get the sleep he needed after a hard day’s work. “I didn’t feel ready either aaand- how well do you think that turned out?”
He chuckled, looked down in his lap instead of my eyes, his cheeks still flaming.
“…everyone else is so excited for it”
“… you’re excited about things that scare them too you know? Like that math exam today. Exams are like so anxiety-inducing, and you’re dealing just fine yeah?” I padded his knee, “Mom and dad don’t know how this feels, so if you want me to talk to them for you, I can do that, you know? I’ve been here. I used to pretend to miss the deadline so often mom looked me over the shoulder when I finally got it done”
He chuckled. “I didn’t know you did that”
I wiggled my eyebrows. “Neither do they”
He let out a little laugh. Then looked back at the computer, stilling again.
“I don’t want them to know…”
“… but you don’t want to sign up either?”
“-FOODS GETTING COLD”
“-Ignore her. You don’t want to sign up?”
“…no”
“Okay,” I pushed him out of the way and closed the tab, then smiled at him. “Come on- Dinner is ready”
“But what will we tell them?” He gestured to his reddened face with puffed-out cheeks – waiting for me to walk out the door first.
“Don’t worry about it,” I smiled, “I’ll figure something out”
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