Friday arrived, flinging the ball of the sun into the sky,
so I was forced to rise.
All day, the sun’s heat could not penetrate my cold anxiety.
I was due at the DMV
for my permit test.
My mother refused to let me drive there.
(I was not technically allowed to.)
She clutched the seat belt in anxiety.
In a tiny room, I sat hunched over a sheet of paper,
labeled each road sign, identified each “rule of the road,”
and second-guessed myself until I finally
emerged from the room,
turned the paper in,
and saw my ex-crush
standing at the entrance.