"And here comes 15 year old Dasha Reardon of the United States."
"She's had a tough four years to get to the Olympics Steve. First there was a family disaster involving the military and a missing cousin. Then the same cousin was targeted accidentally by some kind of advanced robotic system the government was testing out and was almost hunted down. Following that she actually broke an ankle in gymnastics, another sport she excels at but not one she auditioned for at the Olympic Trials."
"And beyond all odds she's made it here Katherine, to the 10m platform dive."
"She's the last to go Steve and three solid scores of a 9 or higher could put her in position to win gold for the US."
"She gets into position on the platform and here's the dive."
"Three twists, a flip, and an absolutely beautiful entry into the water. Almost no splash there. Now all we have to do is wait for the score."
"And wait we will. There is a burning question in everyone's mind now Katherine. Is Dasha Reardon good enough to win? Can she beat the Chinese platform diver that has dominated the competition the last three Olympics?"
"And here's the score now. 9.5's all the way across the board."
"She's done it! Fifteen year old Dasha Reardon has won gold for the United States and beat out the three time defending champion!"
1 Year and 4 months later...
Sam Witwicky stood on the front porch of his home waiting for the blue Ford to trundle around the corner into view. As he waited he bounced on his heels to keep warm. A cold December rain was drenching Tranquility and had been for the past two days. Sam's shirt was soaked through by the drizzle and when he wasn't moving he was shivering. He bounced up and down again and then glanced through the open garage door at the yellow Camaro with black racing stripes parked there. "Any cars coming?" he asked. The Camaro pulled out of the garage and partially into the rain before quickly racing back inside and shudder to rid itself of the chilly rain. Sam started laughing as he plopped down on the cement steps.
"Coast is clear sir," the Camaro said through the radio, probably quoting some old war movie.
"Okay," Sam replied. "Thanks 'Bee." He stood up and began bouncing again as the Camaro, an Autobot scout named Bumblebee, shuddered again. "Wimp," he added with a laugh and the robot in disguise played a laugh track back at him. "Yeah, yeah," Sam said with a dismissive wave. "Laugh all you want. At least I'm not the one who bolts from the rain like it's contagious." Once again the laugh track was heard, this time with applause, and Sam grinned. That was when the battered blue Ford pulled around the corner. Despite the chilly weather Sam's red headed sixteen year old cousin was sticking her head out the window and waving. Sam beamed and waved back, hurriedly whispering to his companion out of the corner of his mouth, "Remember; don't do anything unusual." Then the car pulled into the drive and Sam hurried forward to open the car door for his Aunt Penny.
Penny Jane Reardon was the sister of Sam's mother, Judy Elizabeth. She was also terribly old fashioned when it came to opening doors. "Thank you dear," she said to Sam and kissed him on the cheek. "My look at how tall you've gotten. David, look at how tall Sammy is."
David Peter Reardon was a robust, almost rotund, man with a walrus mustache and a wide smile that showed up in full force. "Why Sam's gone and grown up on us," he exclaimed and Sam grinned.
The last figure out of the car was sixteen year old Dasha Arwen Reardon. He brilliant red-orange hair hung loose behind her and her face was splashed with a handful and carroty freckles. She hugged Sam tight before pulling back to beam at him. "So when do I get to meet the girlfriend?" she asked, still grinning at him.
"Sammy has a girlfriend?" Aunt Penny yelped. "David, Sammy has a-"
"Girlfriend," Uncle David finished. "Calm down Penny. I heard." Aunt Penny glared at her husband but her glare vanished as Sam's father, Ron Witwicky, came outside to help with the baggage.
"Sorry," Dasha apologized to Sam. "I shouldn't have mentioned that."
"S'okay," Sam replied, ruffling her brilliant hair. "Mikaela's coming for supper anyway." Dasha grinned at him and he helped take her bags into the house. Inside the Witwicky residence Judy and Aunt Penny were all but talking over each other in a constant chatter as they worked on homemade lasagna and garlic bread. Uncle David and Ron had returned to the den to watch television. Sam led Dasha upstairs out of the chaos and into the guest bedroom next to his.
"Your mother seems to get more excitable every year," Dasha said with a shake of her head as she began to unpack her things and shove them into drawers. "What would she be like if I moved in with you?"
"Nuts," Sam suggested solemnly and Dasha giggled.
"Probably," she admitted with a grin. "So what's new with you?"
"Besides the girlfriend?" Sam asked, stalling as he thought through what he could and couldn't tell Dasha. He could tell her about Mikaela and college and the official story behind Egypt. He couldn't tell her about the Autobots, the Decepticons, or the Allspark knowledge shoved in his head. "I'm an astronomy major."
"Really?" Dasha asked. "That's so cool! You can help me with Earth and Space next year then." She winked at him and Sam grinned.
"Sam! Dasha!" Judy yelled up the stairs. "Time for dinner." They both dropped what they were holding and bolted for the door.
Dinner was a cheerful affair full of chatter and laughter as the Reardons and Witwickys got caught up with each other. Dasha charmed them all with stories from the Olympics and training, Sam brought funny anecdotes about his college roommates, Ron chattered about gardening, David about the basketball team he coached, and Judy and Aunt Penny rattled on and on about teenagers and schools and politicians. That night the Reardons went to bed, unaware that an autonomous alien robot was hidden in the garage.