Sunlight glares in through the car's windows regardless of the tint job that's supposed to prevent such a thing. Jenny vibrates and hums. A puff of exhaust escapes one of her thruster's vents. If she were capable of breathing, Jenny would have choked on the fumes, but, for once, she's lucky in that regard. She grumbles to herself. At this rate, her internal fans will short circuit and she'll power down. At least then she won't have to deal with the heat. Not that Jenny likes being in shut down mode, but anything would be better than this.
Mom could have at least left the keys so she could turn on the air conditioner, but noooo. After the last 'incident', Jenny's not allowed to be in the car, with the ability to start and control it, on her own. You go on one joyride and suddenly you're not trustworthy enough to be left alone with the keys for five minutes (although Jenny's internal clock is ticking closer to ten at the moment).
Not that Jenny would be in any danger of being caught or seen if she were to go on another joy ride. She's an expert driver, thanks to all the manuals she's downloaded. She'd be careful. Not that that means anything to Mom.
Jenny gets it. Really she does. Mom worries. Mom wants her to be safe. The world isn't ready for Jenny. Jenny understands when Mom says that. Dr. Wakeman doesn't know how people would react to Jenny suddenly appearing, only that the ensuing ripple effect has the potential to be massively catastrophic. It's best that Jenny remains hidden until they can be more certain.
Jenny is still waiting for the day it occurs to Dr. Wakeman that she should to take into account what her daughter wants too. Would it destroy all existence if, for once, just once, what Jenny herself wants is seen as more important than the entire world?
Probably.
Until that time comes, Jenny will sit here, slow cooking in a car, while her mom finds and retrieves the purse she neglected to bring along when they first came out. Maybe Jenny will turn into a melted puddle of metal during the wait. At least that would be interesting.
An unidentified object flies by the window. Jenny's sensors pick up on the movement, record the object's speed and direction, run analyses, report back that the object is a baseball, and designate it as a 'non-threat'. No action is required on her part. Jenny sighs. She debates tinkering with her threat-o-meter, just so she has an excuse to get out of the car, but then someone comes and she knows she can't.
The someone is a young boy. Not a teenager, but not a toddler either. Somewhere in between. Jenny's not sure what you call kids that age. The kid turns his head every which way, before spotting where the baseball rolled off the sidewalk into the grass. He retrieves it and runs back the way he came, toward a boy who is a teenager, like Jenny. Plus, one she knows. Well, sort of.
On the one hand, Jenny is fully aware that secretly watching the teen boy next door from her bedroom windows whenever he walks outside is spying. On the other, he's a teenager like her and it's just too tempting not to do it. He's the only other teenager she's ever seen. Okay, that's entirely because there are none at the level of the atmosphere she enters when she has to destroy meteors and because, technically speaking, she's a top secret project so only a bunch of stuffy, old men have the clearance to be there for her and her mom's check-ins at the military base, but still.
Jenny wonders about the teen boy a lot. What it would be like to know him, to talk to him. She puts her hand on the car door handle. She knows she shouldn't get out, but it's taking Mom an awfully long time to find her stuff inside. Jenny could be out of the car, say 'hi', introduce herself, and then get back in the car like nothing happened before Dr. Wakeman is the wiser.
That is, if the teen boy doesn't panic at the sight of her like that one general did. Or poke and prod her with no regard for her personal space like that other high ranking admiral that time. Once upon a time, Jenny would have considered the military officers she met at her mom's 'presentations' possible friends, but no more. She hates all of them.
She doesn't want to hate the teen boy. Jenny takes her hand off the door handle. One day, she tells herself.
Her mom finally comes out of the house, purse in hand. When she gets back in the car, Dr. Wakeman praises Jenny for following instructions.
Jenny doesn't respond, but slouches against the window in what she hopes is the right way for a teenager, a real one.