It was far too often that he felt that cringe of disappointment. Surely today would be different, he swore to himself as he tightened the last bolt. In front of Thomas laid a body composed of tin cans and cardboard boxes, and a heap of mismatched wires on the inside. It was time to test his 86th attempt. He flipped on a little red switch on the back of the robot.

 

    School went by as school does; the days go slow but the months seem to disappear so quickly. Thomas sketched up his 87th robot, using the same body design as his 86th. The wiring must’ve been just a little off. It was his senior year, and soon he would go off to college for engineering. Summer break was hours away. His mind was scrambled with childish dreams and frightening realities that made him lose sleep. His heart, though, was still beating strong with an unfounded passion and pride. The passion was not for college, nor even pending independence. Rather, it was for something he couldn’t see, but knew was there. Love, success, fame… something.

 

    She sat across from Thomas, and though they had been desk neighbors for the better part of the year, they never had a conversation longer than saying hello or asking for a pencil. Maggie was strong-headed and didn’t mind stating her opinion. She minded arguments even less. To this day, she swears that she never goes looking for arguments but if you knew her, you’d probably disagree.

    She, too, was thinking about her future. She, however, was filled with doubt. Ever since she had turned eighteen, she realized that her childhood was officially over. No child ever wants that, for they have seen their parents stressed and short-tempered. What her parents had that she did not was some money to their names and some booze in their cabinets.    

 

    Maggie glanced over at Thomas’ sketches, as she had done throughout the year. This would be the last of Thomas’ sketches she would probably ever see again. There have been too many lasts of things. It broke her heart, but she couldn’t tell anyone that without being ridiculed. Thomas looked over at Maggie for a second, and a small half-smirk grew on his face.

    “I like your drawing.” Maggie smiled, no longer getting embarrassed with such trifle things that used to get under her skin.

    “No, you don’t,” Thomas laughed, “I mean, I’ve been drawing the same thing for this entire year. I bet you’re tired of looking at it by now.”

    “Why do you keep drawing it?” Maggie couldn’t help but ask.

    “Because sometimes people just go onto new things without finishing something that used to be really important to them. Since I was five, I’ve wanted to build a robot.”

    “You never outgrew it?” Maggie asked.

    “No one ever outgrows anything; most people just give up.” Thomas smiled, and Maggie turned away. ‘Could he be right?’ Maggie asked herself. Thomas’ heart still beat with pride.