Ratings: T
Category(ies): Adventure
Continuity: G1/Movieverse AU
Summary: It's just another babysitting job for Carly. That is, until she meets Annabelle Lennox… and suddenly things are not as they seem.
Title: ROLL FOR IT
Disclaimer: Everybody wishes they own Transformers. But alas, only Primus can claim it. Otherwise known as Hasbro.
Starts and Stops
The phone rang just as I was heading downstairs to breakfast.
This time, though the call was for me and it was the voice of Mrs. Lennox.
Which was a surprise since this is the first time I'd actually heard her in a while.
I'd only met Sarah Lennox briefly only several months ago. Back when my friends were helping me find part time jobs after school. I was supposed to babysit for the Lennoxes' only daughter, five-year old Annabelle Lennox. Until her husband Will was shipped off to Quatar. Sarah chose to work at a part time job so she could spend more time with her daughter . I couldn't blame her for it. Family bonding was important particularly when a loved one was overseas.
Now it looked like I was finally going to meet little Annabelle Lennox in person.
Sarah is the exactly the sort of mother you'd like to hear. She's not demanding over the phone. Or overly polite.
"Good morning, Carly," Sarah greeted, "…Sorry did I wake you up?"
"No, I'm up, Mrs. Lennox, " I answered. I've been spoiled rotten by extra free time I had since school. Free time that has since by jacked by my parents looking to make me into a more "productive citizen".
"I've been up since dawn this morning, " Sarah replied with a half-chuckle, " Which is exactly why I have to ask you, Carly. Are you free to watch Annabelle this weekend and maybe for the next three weekends?"
How else could say no? I wasn't really doing anything else…yet. My college application papers were just lying around my desk. I just couldn't make myself come to a decision. Somewhere inside me, I know what the real reason is.
The real reason for my delay in going to college is to keep myself from going back to study, I mean college. There. I admit it.
Seriously, who wants to go back of the land of books, endless quizzes, exams and over-bearing teachers? Okay, maybe college isn't going to be all that annoying like High School. But it's still School.
Of course, as soon as I said yes, Sarah laid out this time frame of where and when they were going to be at those times. It seems as if the Lennoxes had become slightly more involved with military-related events lately. They were going to Washington and attend a Gala for Military Spouses at the same time. Maybe it all had to do with Will's impending promotion. Only this much I knew from the news. Sarah didn't say anything else.
I started my jotting down my own list of things in return. I asked Sarah or should I say Mrs Lennox, some personal questions about Annnabelle. Aside from the standard query regarding food allegies, I had to know her favorites. Her favorite color, her favorite food, hobbies and of course, her favorite toys.
"She's got her room with her toys, Barbie and her favorite pony Sparkle," said Sarah, " You're welcome to make a little lemonade or smoothie if she wants. And oh! On some nights, she might ask to sleep in our truck,"
I did a slight double take. Whoever heard of a kid preferring to sleep in a truck at night? But then there are kids who do love riding in cars and trucks.
"She loves riding in that truck as much her Dad does, "Sarah added, as if reading my thoughts. Bingo. "It's sort of prized possession for Will, ya know? "
Duh. Guys and their trucks. Anyway, this is the first time I've heard of a kid sleeping in the truck at night rather than hugging My Little Pony to sleep. As a kid, I preferred hugging Care Bears, Teddy Bears and one grey Rabbit.
I bid Sarah a "See ya soon, Mrs. Lennox," once she hung up. I still can't get over calling her Sarah or Mrs. Lennox to her face. Mrs. Lennox sounds just too formal now for even my thoughts. I guess I can officially start calling her Sarah once I see her again.
Now I'm back to seconds of lost in thought. Where was I? I almost missed breakfast.
My stomach is obviously still grumbling for breakfast so I busied myself with the breakfast prep. I had blueberry pancakes in mind and I got all that bubbling on the griddle. Then I turned to the coffee maker.
Only there was one problem. The coffee maker seemed to be broken. Really broken this time.
Sigh. I had to pull out the plug. Plug it back in. Run the coffee maker again and watch the darn thing fill up with water. The filter for some reason, isn't working as it used to be.
Meanwhile, my blueberry pancakes needed attention.
Dad should have warned me about this last night since we're the only two caffeinated people in the house. He's handy with minute fixings. But I can't exactly rely on him nowadays what him leaving so early for his Bakersfield jobs.
He must have been getting his café cravings from the coffee shops. Which left me with the same option.
My poor blueberry pancakes.
I guess I could eat them now or save them for later and head for a coffee run.
Looking out of the window, I was suddenly reminded of my overall not being a bum schedule of the day. I headed back upstairs to change. Swiped the keys and carried out our laundry.
Yay. Carly, the responsible home maker.
Tranquility, Nevada shopping plaza.
So it is a glorious sunny day for once.
But seriously? I'm the only prim-looking prickly faced youth hanging outside of Starbucks?
I do see a lot of faces. Middle-aged faces and some not so middle-aged ones. Parents, a couple of kids and a couple of hot-shot looking guys lurking around.
I guess the mass exodus is pointing straight to the mall and the shops. Where everything is. For a Price.
As I was gathering my stuff from the table and thinking of heading back in for Venti to go, who else do I spot pulling into a space in one of the lots across from Starbucks than the Star of Tranquility High, Sam Witwicky himself?
Sam was crossing straight in my direction or at least I thought he was. Maybe he was heading for the Frozen Yogurt Shack (way too early for me) or the Coin Laundry, . I quickly waved and called out to him, "Sam! Hey Sam!"
I've only known Sam Witwicky in Highschool. I guess you can tell I'm not exactly describing him to be the Star of the School as people might to think. But he is a Star in his own way, I guess. I'm not trying to be mean here.
I mean, if you could just see him. He's not exactly average-looking nor ugly. Maybe too average looking is more fitting. He's a little scrawny, a little nerdy in his ways. Sometimes he can even be a little clumsy. But I know he's got a heart. Which is why we got to be friends though we don't exactly hang out that often.
He's the kind of guy who gets tossed in school lockers by the school jocks and bullies. He did, in fact, get shut into a locker once. I remember the day I ran into him with all the other guys standing around exchanging grins. A sheepish Sam explained to me what happened after gym class. The absurdity of High School.
The Sam that was standing before me now seemed slightly different. No, he hasn't grown muscles or anything. But he carried himself with an air of confidence.
"Hey, Carly, "
"How's the Stanford scholar going?" I half-joked. It was as if it was only yesterday that Sam broke the news of his somewhat astounding GPA (His tutoring paid off a lot, obviously) and the fact that he was going to Stanford. Stanford! I was probably the only one without a mouth agape and jealous looks. But that was only because I wasn't really enamored with stuffy Ivy League universities.
"I'm good to go, really, " Sam replied rather enthusiastically, "Except my mom. You know her. Spends half the time drying her eyes as Dad takes out my entire shelf! He's been itching to throw me out. Going to make my bedroom over as a home theater,"
I raised my eyebrows. " A home theater, really?"
"Nah. Don't think so. At least I hope not!" I wanted to laugh at Sam's somewhat incredulous expression . Mr Witwicky has a fetish for over-decorating and maintenance. So things like this seem like a not so good joke or a half-truth.
"Anyway, they'll be gone for a month after school starts, " This time Sam looked at me.
" Hey, aren't you planning to Harvard or MIT something? I can give you pointers,"
"Forget it, Sam. I'm not going even if I could. Not this year, anyway. I want to spend my days lounging off the California coast for the summer,"
"Yep. I can see you jogging around the beach in your short wraps and a coffee cup, " Sam joked.
I looked down at my clothes. I wasn't even wearing one. I swatted at him playfully.
"I need to go take our laundry next door, " I said," It 's been bad luck at home lately, first the washing machine breaks then the coffee maker. I think our stuff knows Carly's home and they're making it hard for me,"
"Gotta get B-, some, some of those waxes for the Camaro, " Knowing Sam's car, I would be getting the most expensive turtlewax I could afford if I was him. "and Dad's been wanting new shears,"
I gave an audible sigh. " Okay, enjoy your college life, Sam. Have all the frat parties you like. All the bimbos and bikinis. While I enjoy picnics, pooside parties, barbecues,"
"and tea parties, " I added as an afterthought.
"Yeah, that sounds like fun, " Sam grinned. "Guess I could come to one if you'd invite me. Then I could invite you over to a night down at Stanford, " I stuck my tongue out and he scampered away before I could retaliate further. "See ya!"
I headed towards the lot where I parked my own car. The Civic I'm driving is a hand me down from Dad since he got his work van. I couldn't help but notice that somehow Sam's Camaro, still looking brand-spanking new is only a few cars away from mine. So I made way for a closer look.
The gorgeous Camaro is way too shiny new to stand out. In a sea of automobiles, you think of all the Fords, Hondas, Hyundais and a Jeep. Sam's car is already almost a year old and yet it's easy to understand why anyone couldn't let it scratch nor fade. It's just not forgivable to leave it alone like that.
"Flashy, " I said out loud. I was almost afraid to touch it. It really looked a lot like the model cars you see in magazines. I couldn't help but think of how much Sam's rich Uncle had to pay for it. Or maybe he was an avid car collector. Still a dime dozen.
Wait… Didn't Sam say he actually traded in the older Camaro for this one? I can still see the old '70s Camaro in my mind. That was the one his rather cheapwad Dad got him at a used car lot. For some reason, it broke down after a day and according to Sam, it was his Uncle who finally agreed to help him get a newer model.
Whatever. Still is one flashy of a sports car. I run my hand across the hood gently, careful not to smudge it. It's a miracle Sam's managed to keep it dent and scratch free. "Hope Sam doesn't get this all banged up, " I muttered. Not only would that be a pity but the repairs alone would probably cost Sam half of his tuition fees at Stanford.
I could have sworn the car gave a slight shudder.
A/N: This is an edited chapter. Just some really minor changes.