Three days had passed by before I had finished working on Mrs. Natsume’s project. It had taken me two days to get the parts I wanted and then only a day to get them to do what she wanted them to, not that it was too hard, minus it making strange sounds. Nothing else important was going on in the other classes, which is what really gave me all the free time. I did, however, get two assignments: one on Artificial Intelligence and the difference on the languages and ways to program it, and another on in-depth robotics engineering. Because I had built Tipsy before I was 16, both classes were more like a refresher course than anything. Mrs. Natsume wasn’t expecting anything until tomorrow, so I had plenty of time to not only get the assignments done, but also spend time with Cocoa and get ideas from the park on new inventions to continue to benefit society.

 

“You think she’ll let them pass?” Cocoa asks me as she closed the door. We had just got back from the park and I had just asked Tipsy to get dinner on.

 

“Of course she will!” I respond boastfully. “They do exactly what she wants and maybe even more. How are your classes going anyway? You’ve been really quiet about them recently.”

 

The question seemed to have stung her in some way. It took at least five minutes before she even acknowledged I asked a question, in which she tilted her head toward me and said, “What?” We had sat down just before and began eating some Chinese, where she nearly dropped her chop sticks. I was surprised; it was General Tso with chicken fried rice, her favorite!

 

“Your classes Cocoa, how are they going?” I ask again.

 

“They’re okay, I’ve got a lot to do, but I have Jasmine and Avery helping.”

 

“You mean Avery from science class?” I ask, quickly glancing at her.

 

“It was Jasmine’s idea,” she retorts. Apparently it was a touchy subject, and I didn’t want to go further than what was needed. Avery had a crush on her 2 years ago, but she never felt the same way. He was excellent with technology and excelled in this field, so I can see why Jasmine picked hhim.

 

“Well, how far along is it?”

 

After taking a few bites from her meal, she answers with, “It’s coming along; Jasmine is more skilled than I thought she was. She can use Photoshop like no one else in school and she’s a wiz with wording and advertising.”

 

For the next 10 minutes Cocoa begins explaining how Jasmine managed to not only create a realistic looking water powered engine, but create a car that fit the image perfectly, stating “Water is making the waves of our future” as their slogan. It sounded so real she could have probably convinced me to buy it. In a way though, it made me jealous. It wasn’t exactly jealousy, but it felt like something similar in the pit of my stomach. Following that, she also mentioned how she was put in a real situation where her and a co-worker both had potential to be promoted, but only one could be it. She lost, but learned from it and even has a pop quiz on the “what’s” and “how’s” of promotion and decline.

 

“You must be learning a lot,” I cut in, giving her time to breathe.

 

“Mm-hm. Our teachers our equally nice and fair to all of us, so there isn’t any favoritism among anyone.”

 

Continuing our meal, Cocoa went on and on about how much she was learning and gaining in experience inside and outside of the job industry. I also managed to get in what was going on in my other two classes and before long dinner was done, cleaned up, and put away.

 

“An amazing meal like always, Miss Random,” she says jokingly, and then bows to me. I chuckle a little and push the clear counter button on the wall before hugging her goodbye and heading off to the shower.

 

During my shower I think about how easy life is for me. At the push of a button I have a hot meal, I can have everything arranged perfectly in a room, heck, I can even have a nice, almost perfect shower. And that’s what gets me thinking, “what can I do for others?” I’ve been asking myself that since I’ve found out about my gift and have been wondering what my purpose here could be to make my parents not only happy but proud, proud to call me their daughter. But it hasn’t always been that easy. My dreams, however, often hamper this by giving me nightmares that make me forget things that could have been. Even as I let the water run down my back, I’m developing tears, tears of sadness, sadness from the helplessness of being unable to help anyone. Turning the water off I grab my towel, wrap it around me, and head toward my room, whispering under my breath.

 

“I admire you, Cocoa. You’re going to help a lot of people one day. Your cheery, helpful, have a selfless attitude; you have a lot of what people need, and you have it and hold it high every day.”

 

I slowly crawl into my bed at this point and don’t bother to get dressed. I just let the soft towel rub against me as I pull up the sheets over my head, praying another nightmare doesn’t grasp me away from reality.