Page 1 of The Chemistry Test

Penny

‘Ta-da!’ Mum sings, lifting my blindfold.

I gasp. Everything from the shade of blue to the type of wheels is perfect.

I’ve googled it so many times that it’s surreal to see it in person.

I want to be excited but, thanks to Google, I also know we can’t afford it.

Like, really can’t afford it. The wheels alone cost a small fortune.

‘Let’s see it in action, Penny!’ she says, breaking my thoughts and stepping back to give me space.

It’s a big moment for her too. She’s wanted this for me as much as I have.

She leans against our white front door as I sit in it very carefully, admiring all of the little details I hadn’t noticed before, like the chrome accents and sleek cup holder.

And then it hits me. If I were any other teenage girl, this would be a car.

And I would probably be jumping up and down right now.

The thing is, I never thought my first set of wheels would be on a wheelchair.

And I certainly never thought I’d be excited about it.

‘Mum.’ My eyes are rimmed with tears. She walks back over to me and wraps her arms around my shoulders, giving me a light squeeze.

‘Next year it’ll be a car. I promise,’ she says, thinking the same thing. I wipe my eyes.

‘No, this is great. Better than great, it’s perfect,’ I say, running my hands over the soft leather armrests.

‘But we can’t afford it.’ I had the assessment last month and I’ve only been approved for a big and bulky power chair.

Something like this, with its tiny power-assisting device and cute galaxy-patterned frame is way out of the question.

She lets go of my shoulders and comes round to face me, her soft features silhouetted as she stands in front of the late morning sun.

‘Parker helped me set up a fundraiser.’ She grins, pulling up the page on her phone. ‘We didn’t have to pay a penny.’

I scan over the donation page and my smile wavers slightly when I think about my brother putting himself out there to ask for help like that. And at the thought of people spending their hard-earned money on me. ‘They didn’t have to do that—’ I start, but Mum cuts me off.

‘You’re going to university, Penny! You need something you feel confident in and that’ll fit in all of your new friends’ cars. There’s no way you’d fit that big power chair in the back of a Fiat 500!’

I try to keep a straight face, but she has a point – my twin sister Delilah bought herself one last year, so we know from experience how tiny they are.

‘Seriously, darling, everyone who pitched in was more than happy to. You deserve it.’

It takes me a moment to process it before I start grinning too. This is going to change everything .