A/N: Hello all! This is the first chapter of my story The Adventures of Brooke Witwicky. I'm sorry it took so long to update this story as I have a very hectic life right now. Loads of school work(Yes I was doing it on the holidays), horse riding instructor course, I just got my first horse!(happy dance) and I went to my Dad's and found I didn't bring my fanfic book. Bummer.
P.S: Before getting on an a plane, DO NOT have a large cappuccino and a bottle of coke, then have another cup of coffee plus a mini can of coke and lemonade. Because you WILL be high. Just saying. lol So onto the story…
If I owned Transformers then I wouldn't be writing this…
Brooke P.O.V
"Okay Witwicky's your up." Our teacher said. Sam and I walked up to the front of the classroom.
"Sorry, we got a lot of stuff." Sam poured everything from his backpack onto the desk. Once he was finished he started speaking.
"For our family…" He was then hit with a rubber band. I glanced at the perpetrator, who was looking around the classroom trying to look 'innocent'.
"Who did… Who did that? People! Responsibility." The teacher said.
"Okay. So for our genealogy report, we decided to do it on our great-great-grandfather, who was a famous man, captain Archibald Witwicky. Very famous explorer. In fact he was one of the first to explore the Arctic Circle, which was a big deal." Sam started.
"In 1897, he took 41 brave sailors straight into the Arctic Shelf." I explained as I held up a map of the Arctic.
"So that's the story, right? And here we have some of the basic instruments and tools used by 19th century seamen," Sam continued. "This here is the quadrant, which you can get for eighty bucks."
"It's all for sale, by the way." I cut in.
"Like the sextant here. $50 for this, which is a bargain." Sam said.
"These are pretty cool. These are our grandfathers glasses." I held them up for everyone else to see.
"We haven't quite gotten them appraised yet, but they've seen many cool things." Sam continued.
"Are you going to sell me his liver?" Our teacher asked sarcastically. "Witwickys', this isn't show and sell. It's the 11th grade. I don't think your grandfather would be particularly proud of what you're doing." I winced slightly at that.
"We know and we're sorry. I just, you know, this is all going towards our car fund." I replied.
"You can tell your folks. It's on eBay." Sam started again.
"We take ."
"Cold hard cash works, too. And the compass makes a great gift for Columbus Day."
"Sam! Brooke!" The teacher snapped.
"Sorry."
"Unfortunately, our great-great-grandfather, the genius that he was, wound up going blind and crazy in a psycho ward, drawing these strange symbols and babbling about some giant ice-man that he thought he discovered." Just then the bell had rung and everyone ran out of the classroom.
"Okay. Might be a pop quiz tomorrow. Might not. Sleep in fear tonight people." The teacher called out to the fleeing students.
"Here, you want? Here, 50. 40? 30?" Sam tried desperately to haggle while I put our stuff away.
"Sam?"
We both went over to the teacher's desk while I zipped up the backpack. "Pretty good, right?" Sam asked.
"I'd say a solid B- " I looked at Sam to see his reaction.
"A B-?" Sam said flatly.
"You were hawking your great-grandfathers crap in my classroom." He said.
"No, kids enjoy…" Sam started.
"Look, can you do me a favour?" I asked.
"What?"
"Can you look out the window for a second? You see our father? He's the guy in the green car." I said.
"Yeah."
"Okay, I wanna tell you about a dream. Our dream. And a man's promise to his children. He looked us in the eyes. He said, "Kids, I'm gonna buy you guys a car. But I want you to bring me 2 grand and 3 A's each." I explained.
"Okay? We got the 2 thousand and four A's." Sam said.
"Here's the dream. Your B-. Dream gone. Kaput." I demonstrated with my hands. "Sir just ask yourself, what would Jesus do?"
~Break~
We ran out to Dad's car. "Yes!" We cheered, as Sam got in the front seat. I jumped into the back of the car and threw Sam's backpack at him.
"A-. It's an A though."
"Wait, wait, wait. I can't see." I shoved the paper in front of his face, "It's an A."
"So we're good?" Sam asked.
"Your good." I did a little victory in my seat while Sam was high-fiving himself.
"I have a little surprise for you two." Dad said as he drove into a Porsche dealership.
"What kind of…" I started.
"Yeah, a little surprise." Dad said.
"No. No, no, no, no. Dad! Oh you have got to be kidding me!"
"Yeah, I am," I snapped out of my daze. "You're not getting a Porsche."
"You think that's funny?" Sam asked, pouting.
"Yeah, I think it's funny." Dad replied.
"What's wrong with you?" I demanded.
"You think I'd really get you a Porsche for your first car?"
"I'm not going to talk to you for the rest of this thing." I said folding my arms and leaning back into my seat.
"Oh, come on. It's just a joke." Dad said, looking over to where I sat.
"It's not a funny joke." Sam said. I nodded my head in agreement. Dad drove down to a place called Bobby Bolivia's Car Dealership. I hopped out of the car and stated looking around.
I overheard my Dad and Sam talking with the owner but I was too busy trying to find something. I then spied a beautiful old classic looking car and I knew it was worth taking a look at.
I walked over to the driver side and hopped into the seat.
"What's a beauty like you doing here?" I whispered as I rubbed some dirt off from the steering wheel.
"Hey Sam, over here!" I shouted.
"This one's got racing stripes." Sam said.
"Yeah, this one's… Hey, what the heck is this? I didn't know about this car?" Mumbled the car dealer, I think his name was Bobby B. or something.
"Hey, move over for a sec." Sam asked, so I hopped over to the passenger seat as Sam sat down in the drivers side.
"Feels good." He said while rubbing the leather on the steering wheel.
"How much?"
"Well, considering the semi-classic nature of the vehicle, with the slick wheels and the custom paint…"
"The paints faded." I said.
"Yeah but it's still custom."
"It's custom faded?" I rose an eyebrow at Sam.
"Well it's your first car. I wouldn't expect you to understand. Five grand." Bobby declared and I winced, knowing what was coming next.
"Nope, sorry, not paying over four."
"Kids, c'mon, get out of the car." He said as he stuck his head in the window nearest of me.
"You said cars pick their drivers." Sam said.
Well, sometimes they pick a driver with a cheap-ass father. Now out of the car." Sam opened his side door while I had a little more trouble opening mine.
"Now, this one her for four G's is a beaut." Bobby said, as I continued to struggle with the door.
"There's a Fiesta with racing stripes over there." Dad tried to reason.
"No, we don't want a Fiesta with racing stripes." Sam replied.
"This is a classic engine right here. I sold a car the other day…"
As Sam shut the door, mine suddenly flung open and hit the car Bobby was in, making a huge dent.
"OMG! I'm sorry! My door was stuck and…" I said in a panic.
"No worries."
"You alright?" Dad asked.
"I'll get a sledgehammer and knock this right out. Hey, hey Manny! Get your clown cousin and get some hammers and come bang this stuff out, baby!" He got out of the car and started walking across the lot to another car. "That one's my favourite, drove it all the way from Alabammy."
Suddenly a strange, screeching noise came from the Camero's radio, making all of the other cars windows smash open. "4,000!" Bobby said, his voice quite high pitched.
That's all I'm afraid. Please R&R, it keeps me going.
