This isn't a new chapter, I just wanted to add a bit more detail and tweak a few things. Chapter two will be coming soon though! So keep an eye out!

-Aysu

It was sunny under the trees forming the road between Sam's house and mine. A nice respite from the summer-worthy heat. Still spring and I was already sweating through my thin, purple camisole. If it wasn't for Sam, I would still be in my nice, cool, air-conditioned garage while my housemate fused over her clothes for the party. But no. I just have to come over to Sam's house, to see his brand new car. And I have to hurry, before the party starts.

Why didn't I drive?! It's too hot for this.

And anyway, it's more like the car doesn't start and Sam wants me to see what's wrong. This is what I get for being raised by a mechanic. I swear I'm gonna punch that boy and his cheap father. Oh, who am I kidding? No I won't, I love them too much.

I let myself in the front door, using the keys Ron and Judy had made for me. They seem to think me being Sam's only female friend means I'm going to marry him one day. The more exposure the better I guess. That, and they like me.

"Sam?" I called, plopping on the living room couch. "Hello? Anybody home?"

I could hear Sam pounding down the stairs before he came sliding into the room. Well, he slid past the doorframe and crashed into the wall, but hey, he tried.

I laughed.

"Good. Good, you're here." Sam said once he got control of his body. He sat on the arm of the couch. "I got a Camaro. A Camaro, Harle. But…" He hesitated, I waved him on, "it needs washed. Really bad."

"Oh, so now I'm your washer woman, huh?" I could feel my eyebrows rise.

"No, no, no, no. I thought, you know, you like cars….and…"

"Sam," I noogied his hair and grinned, "I'm teasing. Lead the way."

He glared at me before getting up and stomping through the house. I pulled myself from the embrace of the couch and followed, stealing an apple from the kitchen on the way out.

"Sammy, come on! I was just kid-ding…" My words hung in the air and my apple fell from my limp hand as I stepped into the backyard. There, sitting in the driveway, was a 1976 Chevrolet Camaro. Yellow and black, striped like a bumblebee. I think I'm in love. "Oh my Goddess Sam. He's gorgeous!"

He gave me the weird eye. "What are you freaking out about? I said it was a Camaro. And when did my car become a he, anyway?" He crossed his arms.

"You didn't tell me it was a classic 1976 racer, complete with racing stripes and the original custom paint!" I waved away the second question. "Everyone gives their car a gender. Your's looks like a he."

"Please don't tell me you have the hot's for my car."

It was my turn to give him the weird eye. "I am a vehicle enthusiast Sam. Leave my love life out of it."

"What love li-"

"Sam." He shut up. "I'll help you wash him. On one condition. I get to drive."

"No way! Can't you just drive your Impala! It's a classic!"

"Yeah, but that means you're cleaning this one here yourself." I jerked a thumb to point the car behind me.

Sam glanced between the Camaro and me a few times. "You can drive a hard bargain Harle…."

"You can drive a dirty car. And have Mikaela see you in said dirty car, Loverboy"

Sam actually drooped. I think his hair even fell an inch! "Fine, but I'm driving home."

"Deal." "Deal." We shook on it.

Giggling, I happy dance/skipped/ran to the Camaro as Sam went to grab the cleaning supplies. I skimmed my hands over the hood and slowly ran them up the roof until I was level with the driver's side door, savoring the feel of such a beautiful car.

*I FEEL GOOD! BA-NA-NA-NA-NA-NA-NA-NUM!* The car shuddered and the radio suddenly blasted. I fell away in shock, landing on a pile of pavestones set not too far away.

"Okay, OW car! Next time you feel like scaring the bajeebies out of me, make sure it's near something soft first." The car seemed to sink closer to the ground. Great, now I'm talking to cars and giving them emotions. Cal, what have you done to me? Rubbing my bum, I slowly got up and gave the Camaro a look. Deciding it wasn't going to do anything weird again, I opened the driver's door and slid in. Settling into the seat, I barley stopped myself from moaning out loud when the leather molded itself to my body and started vibrating.

There was a tiny bumblebee with the word 'Bee-otch!' written underneath hanging from the rearview mirror. That got a chuckle out of me. I was leaning back and finally relaxing after my scare when Sam decides to stick his head through the window and give me another heart attack.

"God damnit Sam! Warn a girl, why don't 'cha!"

He grinned, the little twit.

"Feels good, right?"

"Real good. But this little face on the steering wheel; it's not any Chevy symbol I've seen. In fact-"

Sam cut me off. "I was hoping you'd know car girl. Kinda thought it looked like your birthmark, just smaller."

"Yeah…" I touched my chest, where the same symbol stood out against my tan skin, in translucent, scar-like lines. It had been there since birth, about the size of a fist, nestled in dip of my cleavage. Cal said my mom had one just like it, only smaller and on the outside of her thigh. "Enough about weird little faces! I thought we were here to wash your car."

"You're the one taking a nap in the driver's seat." Sam held out a bucket and rag. "I call the hose."

"Oooh." I gave him the pinchy fingers at him and narrowed my eyes. "I hate you."

"I love you too, now out."

Now, I knew Sam was weird, but I had no idea his car would be just as weird. Throughout the entire wash, it would shudder when we hit a certain spot, the radio would fizzle on and off with random songs playing. And I noticed the car also grew hot at certain times, and steam seemed to come out from under the hood.

No doubt about it, this Camaro is different.

Finally, Sam's car was dirt and dust free at least. Ron wouldn't let us near the car wax and there wasn't much we could do about the dents and scratches without my tools, but, hey, it was clean.

Sam sent an evaluation look my way. "Are you wearing that to the lake?" I glanced down at my dirt-spotted, grease stained, suds-covered, all around soaked pair of overall-shorts and camisole.

"Ummm, no?" I shrugged

"Harle!" He threw his hands in the air. "Even you have to admit you can't go to a party like that."

I stuck my tongue out at him. "Yes Mom." The two of us headed upstairs, separating on the landing, going to our own rooms. I spent the night so much, Ron and Judy decided to just make one of the guest rooms mine. Connecting bathroom and all. Today, I put them both to good use.