The weekend came faster than anticipated.  Everyone had already begun enjoying their time off from school or work, but I stood in my room, thinking about the results of my test. I had gotten none, and didn’t understand why.

 

When Cocoa and I got our results back, she was given the option of a Hot Cocoa shop, and I was given an undefined page. I couldn’t bear the thought of it and had left the classroom, leaving Cocoa alone.

I ended up heading straight home, not stopping to talk to anyone, not even Tipsy, and crawled straight into bed, sealing the door behind me.

 

“How could I get no results?” I murmur, the words sounding more and more believable as I say them. “Was the computer wrong? Am I unfit to work anywhere? I’m much smarter than most of my class…”

 

Cocoa had to return home after the test anyway. Guess it was best, because I don’t feel like talking to anyone right now.

 

“A failure doesn’t need to talk to anyone…”

 

Later that Saturday afternoon, I hear a bang on the front door. “Random! Open up!”

 

It continues for several minutes. I try to block it out, but it pounds on my ear drums like a drummer in perfect sync with his drums. I’ve told Tipsy I didn’t want anyone over, so she’s kept everyone at bay for the most part. But when it comes to Cocoa, well, she’s a little more resourceful than others. I’ve shown her ways to enter my home I dare not show others, and like a mouse squeezing into a tight space, she finds her way in.

 

“Miss Dadalian does not want to be disturbed. Not even by you, Miss Vanswell. I am sorry, but I am not moving and will fight back if needed,” argued Tipsy as I approached her. Her claws were drawn and she was stretched out in front of the door almost ready to pounce.

 

“Can I at least sit in front of the door?” I asked, my heart beating quickly against my chest, hoping Tipsy doesn’t attack me. I’ve never seen Tipsy like this. in the end she moved, though rather reluctantly, and allowed me to sit by the door.

 

Several silent minutes passed by, and the only thing I could hear is Randoms breathing on the other side of the door. It was very quiet, so I assumed she was sitting on the other side of the room. Several times I tried speaking, but caught myself each time, being unable to utter anything that may make her be willing to open the door. All I could think about is how I wanted to be able to calm Random down.

 

“Have I told you the real reason my parents started fighting?” I whisper quietly. I didn’t think she heard, but next thing I knew she was against the door. I didn’t bother asking if she moved or was even listening, and just began talking.

 

“It was last year, when I turned 16. I’ve told you that my dad ran his own business and my mom stayed at home, right? Well, when I turned 16, my dad told me that I needed to start thinking about taking over, being the only child in the family who could. But my mom rejected his wish, saying I had my own right to choose, and when I told him my idea of running a Hot Cocoa shop, he and my mom began arguing.”

 

I paused to hear if she was still listening, and when I heard her breathing, I continued.

 

“My dad had always been the independent one and took charge over are family while my mom had been the typical “stay at home” mom. She said she had wanted to get the job of her dreams like me, but dad told her she had to listen to her, and stay home to take care of things while he did all the working. He had that drilled into him by his father and his father by his. They’ve been arguing ever since for the last year. Even when I bought home the test results the other day my dad outraged more, but my mom told me she was proud of me.”

 

Once I finished, I waited a good hour to see if she would open the door or not. When it wouldn’t open, I began to think about my parents, and how I was one of the causes of their arguments. Often when it got really bad, I’d lock myself away in my room and stare at a picture of Random and I; it was the only thing that calmed me and allowed me to fall asleep. Whenever I was alone, Random always seemed to find her way into my head, whether through the picture or my wandering mind.

 

To try and snap her back, I told her what she told me before we took our test.

 

“No matter what the results, you can still explore and choose; it's not set in stone,” I said as close to the principals voice as I could.

 

Still the door wouldn’t open, and I sat there, hoping that what I was saying was getting through to her. I decided to try one last thing before giving up.

 

“You know, a lot of people look up to you. You’re the smartest girl in our school, and probably in this whole town, Random. Even I get jealous sometimes. But I’m still here with you as a friend, and as a friend I came over to try and help.” I stand up and begin walking down the hall.

 

“I’m leaving for the night, Random. I hope I get to talk to you tomorrow, face to face.”

 

And with a slam of the door, silence returned to Random.

 

“I’m sorry, Cocoa,” I whisper, wiping away tears.

 

Meanwhile, Cocoa finally returns home, and heads straight to bed.

 

“Random, I wish you’d come back to your old self. You’ve gotten out of worse situations than this since I’ve known you,” I whisper as I fall asleep, staring at her picture.