AN: this chapter is only the second chapter but damn it's long. My chapters are usually about three thousand words long – fairly long – but this one is twice that! But I just sat down this morning, and wrote and wrote and wrote, as I shuffled the songs on my phone, and I couldn't stop. I don't usually update every day, so don't expect it too often.

Anyway; krikanalo: Thank you. And to the people who favorited and followed my story: thank you.

I'm sorry for spelling/grammar error, because this chapter is seriously long, and I couldn't get all of them – proofreading your own work is hard and you can't ever get everything.

Guys, that vote is still on:

First option: make this a Sam/OC story

Second option: make this an Optimus/OC story. If you want that paring you like most, you better vote, either in the reviews or PM me and I will tally it up. This is your chance to steer the story in the direction of a paring with the character you like most, so vote!

I don't own Transformers, only Raven; enjoy :D

"Wait, wait, wait!" I call out hurryingly, getting out of the car, my phone already in front of my face. "Hold, on, stay where you are and don't move!" I chirp childishly as I run to take place in front of my best friend. "Hold still…" I trail off, holding the hone up, and try a few different angles, before changing positing a few degrees to the right. Sam stands, unmoving; with the gas nozzle in the car… gas thing, whatever it's called, and a hand on his hip. I try a few more angles and locations before I get the perfect view, and take a picture, the sun shining in just the right way. Sam's washed the car already, with his dad, so even though it was old and the yellow paint was a weird shade, and on top of that, all chapped and faded. And ya, it isn't exactly a car of dreams, but it drives, and it's a car. I don't have a car, so who am I to judge?

And I have to admit, as old as the car looks, it's isn't half bad. The 'old' look actually gives it a personality, in a way. It looks unique in a way… maybe… I guess.

I take the photo, and excitedly return back to Sam, showing him the photo. "This is going to be your caller ID!" I chirp roundly, getting a laugh from Sam. "Ok, your turn. Stand right here," Sam tells me, pulling me into place. "Here, lean against the car in some awesome pose. Put your left hand on your hip and lean on your left leg. Oh, and pull your hair over to the right." I do as he instructs – as he jogs away – taking my dark brown hair out the ponytail, telling the curls fall over my right shoulder and shift my weight, putting on a bright smile.

"Ya, there, that looks great." After a moment, Sam's running back to me, shoving the phone in my face. "No, wait, wait, wait; I can't see," I say, leaning back against the car when the phone comes too close to my face. I take Sam's hands, pulling it away for a better look at the picture. "Wow; I look good." I really do; the picture looks really nice.

"Yup, and it's going on my phone as your contact photo," Sam smirks. "OK so, what did your crazy brain come up with? I doubt it's anything good." Sam mutters the last part and I laugh in agreement.

"Oh Sam… you have no idea. Let's go out on the highway." It's only eight ten, so we have plenty of time, and the sunset will give it a nice effect. Oh god, I'd always wanted to do this! I almost jump in excitement as we get in the car and pull away from the gas station.

It isn't long before we're on the empty highway. I get my bag from the back seat, getting a CD out of it, and Sam's face lights up at the sight. "OK, Sam, I'll turn some music on… can you make the car go faster?" I turn on my favorite road trip song and Sam speeds up. Oh God; I'm going to die today. These are my last moments of living! Oh well; let's make them the best they can be. I turn the music to full blast, a smile spreading over my face, and I do the craziest thing ever:

I stick my head out the window, squinting because of the wind, and pull myself out, pushing off of the seat and holding on to the roof for dear life. "Wow, wow, wow! Raven, what the hell are you doing?!"

"Chill out, Sam!" I cry out over the noise, heart racing in fear, palms – oh dear God, why? – sweating. Oh boy; please don't let me slip! OH God! I'm so freaking scared!

I push myself further out the window, clawing at the roof to stay on it and place my sneakers on the window, standing up and oh so carefully crawl onto the roof, my heart doing a drum roll in my ears at a deafening volume. And as expected, I begin to shake in fear as the wind pushes my backward. I grab on to the front of the car for dear life, inching to the windshield and sit down, my legs hanging on it.

This is the scariest thing I've ever done! What the hell was I thinking?!

I gulp my fear down, and ever-so-carefully slide down the windshield until my back side hits the hood of Sam's car, my back pressed against the windshield.

I turn my face to the side, looking at Sam from the corner of my eye, to see him wearing a horrified expression. Instantly, all fear al but vanishes, a brilliant smile lighting my face, and I let out a scream. But not in fear, but in joy, and at the stupidity of the situation. Here I am, on the hood of a car, music blasting.

Oh I had dreamed of doing this!

"YA!" I scream, closing my eyes, arms in the air. "WOOOOOOO!" I can't believe I'm doing this! Heart racing, adrenaline pumping, I screech out in absolute bliss, loving every second.

I can fly! I'm free of everything! I'm flying! I can't believe this; I'm actually flying! This is my dream!

I let out another cry, throwing my arms to the air. "I'm free!" I scream, eyes closed, wind in my face, pressing me further into the glass. I'm alive! I've never felt more energized before, never felt more alive than I am now!

"It's my life, it's now or never
I ain't gonna live forever
I just want to live while I'm alive

It's my life
My heart is like the open highway
Like Frankie said I did it my way
I just wanna live while I'm alive
It's my life"

I screech along with the lyrics, feet fighting to stay on the hood, back arching up, arms out, living like never before. I can't believe I did this! I actually did it!

"Oh my God! Woooooo-" my shriek is cut shirt, and I begin to choke. My eyes widen and my hand flies to my throat, picking at it, as if I can reach whatever is in there. I slowly turn to Sam, my mouth hanging open, eyes full of fear again. I gasp for air, and as I do, I try desperately, to tell Sam to not slow down one bit. OH god… this is so beyond disgusting! E-… ew! I can feel it trying to crawl up!

My face wrinkles, like as if I'd just swallowed a lemon and I edge to the right, leaning over the edge, and vomit a little, making a weird sound in the back of my throat.

This is nasty: I swallowed a bug! "I swallowed a bug!" I shout to Sam, and it only takes him a second to start laughing like he's insane. I shoot him a glare and knock on the glass, signaling him to slow down ever so carefully.

.O.o.O.o.O.

"Raven, you're nuts! You have no idea how scared I was!" Sam shouts at me. I lean back, taking a seat on the hood of his car, arms cross. "Well Sam, I think it's safe to say that I was even more scared," I state, "but I had to do it; at least once! Sam, that was so amazing! It was totally, absolutely the best! And oh my god, I was so terrified! I thought I was going to die, I didn't know if I'd live to see tomorrow! But no, I lived! I lived and that was the worst choice I ever made and it was the best idea ever!" I squeal, babbling on uncontrollably on and on until Sam makes a 'shut up' motion with his hand.

"Ok, I get it. But you're still insane. I should take you to a hospital; yes, right now, get in the car, I'm taking you to a hospital; let's go," He says, grabbing my hand, and dragging me to the passenger seat. He yanks at the door… and it doesn't open. He frowns and tugs at the handle once more. Still, nothing happens. "What? It isn't locked!" Sam says in exasperation. I look at the door, seeing the internal locks, or whatever they're called not locked. The door will just not open.

"Sam, come on, stop it. I'm fine; see? Come on. Hey, I know a place nearby: a pond. Come on, it's only a few minutes' drive away. I might be crazy, but hey… let's be crazy together," I say with a smirk. Sam looks at me as if I'd lost it, and I start begging. "Please Sam! Come on! This evening, let's be stupid again. Let's do something completely irrational and childish that if someone sees us, they'll send us to the insane asylum. It's eight-forty, and the sun is setting. Look around: it's beautiful and you're an idiot to pass up an opportunity. Please!" Plead, giving him the best puppy dog face I can – which is pretty sad.

Sam shakes his head. Nope; not gonna happen." Alright… you asked for it, young man.

.O.o.O.o.O.

"Dear lord, it's freezing!" I screech as I pop out of the water, arms wrapped around me. My T-shirt sticks to my body, along with my jeans. I wipe the water out of my face, gasping at the cold, but as soon as I open my mouth, cold water splashes me in the face. My jaw falls, eye wide. I freeze like a statue, arms out in shock.

"Admit it: you were asking for it. You were the one who dragged me into th-" I cut him off by splashing his face with water as hard as I can, which isn't really that hard at all. I'm not all that strong at all.

I raise my eyebrows at him, tilting my head to the side and smirking. "You asked for it," I teas. But my victory is short-lived. Sam jumps on me, pushing me underwater. I scream in surprise, cutting myself off when I realize I'm under water, and screaming isn't such a great idea. I close my mouth and try to swim up, and two hands push me down, holding me under water.

I begin to struggle, trashing around like a maniac, trying to push myself up to the surface, but it's hopeless. Then I realize I screamed all my air out. I stop struggling, holding whatever is left of my breath, and float motionlessly. And as expected0, the hands grab a hold of my arm, and pull me out of the water. "Oh God, Raven, are you ok? You were not moving and-"

I cut Sam off by splashing him in the face again, and burst into laughing. "Are you ever going to not fall for that?" I laugh cheerfully, and all but tackle him into the water, holding him there, but for my lack of swimming practice, Sam instantly gets the upper hand, and I'm once again, the one being drowned by my best friend.

I burst through the water, gasping for air. "Not fair!" I scream at Sam, "You know I can't swim!" I'm not afraid of water; I just never learned how to swim.

"Hey! You're the one who came up with the idea!" Sam fires back, so I splash him in the face… only to be splashed right back. I scream in frustration and start splashing Sam over and over again, as hard as I can, not leaving him any room to fight back. My only mistake was shutting my eyes and turning away, just in case he splashed me.

Why? Because something grabbed my foot, making my shriek, and pulled me under water, holding me there. Hey! That's not fair!

I pop back out of the water, breathing heavily.

"Raven? It's late, we'll have to go home soon… but we're all wet," Sam says with an eye-roll. Ya, he's right. It's getting late and we better go home.

We climb out of the pond, crashing tiredly on the grass, breathing heavily. "You're crazy," Sam says, giving me a look, which I return with, "I might be crazy, but you still hang out with me, which makes you twice as crazy," with a smirk.

"Dude, we can't go home like this. First: the car; there is no way I'm getting into my car all wet, and second: my parents will kill me. This was a terrible idea. It's all your fault."

"Yup, my fault; but you followed me, making you just as bad if not worse." Oh God I love doing this! "And don't worry; I know how we can dry quickly," I say, getting to my feet. Sam looks at me, confused, but gets up as well. The moment he's up, I lightly hit his shoulder. "Tag! You're it!" I scream, and bolt for it, knowing that he might not exactly be a sports kind of person, but he's still faster than me.

"Guess this means you're sorry, you're standing at my door
Guess this means you take back all you said before
Like how much you wanted anyone but me
Said you'd never come back but here you are again

'Cause we belong together now, yeah
Forever united here somehow, yeah
You got a piece of me and honestly
My life would suck without you"

It takes me a second to understand what's going on, but when I finally do, I stop, and turn around to look at the car, which is playing Kelly Clarkson's 'My Life Would Suck Without You'. I do a double-take, but the distraction causes me being tackled to the ground and pinned down but my arms and legs. "Not fair! I got distracted! Your car started playing music!" I squeal, trying to get free.

"Ya, well, my car is all weird and stuff, and now the distraction is going to be something you regret forever. This is for scaring me by climbing out of my moving car."

"Oh, so we're back to that?"

"Oh ya." And with that, he throws his head back, making a disgusting sound in the back of his throat. It takes me a second to understand, and as soon as I do, I scream and starts thrashing wildly, trying to get free. Only to freeze when Sam's spit hangs inches from mi face. I try pushing myself into the ground as far as I can, flinching away to the side as I keep screaming. "NO-O-O! Don't you d-dare!" But he dares and a moment later, the spit falls in my face. I let out a murderous screech. "Sam, I strongly advise you to run; run as far and as fast as you can." His face falls, eyes widening. "Oh crap," is all I hear before I jump to my feet, darting after him. "You'll pay for this, you little freak!"

.oOo.

After picking me up at the park at six, Sam and I drove to his friend's house. The friend... let's just say that every time I talk to Miles, I get a gut feeling that he hides some sort of drug under his bed, because I swear, the guy is stoned or something half the time. Then again, it isn't like I know what's going on with him back home, so maybe there is a reason why he's a stoned weirdo. Nonetheless, he's embarrassing.

Again, it isn't like I can really judge him. I mean, I'm two, completely different people: one being a miserable seventeen-year-old who lives in a garbage can, and the other being the craziest and most fun girl in the world, a girl who take the dumbest risks and ends up in tones of trouble, but to me, it's all worth it. I can be a stoned weirdo sometimes, too.

So when we park in front of the said boy's house, I unlatch the seatbelt, and carefully climb over to the back seat, giving Miles a turn to ride in the front, since I already had. Before long, the blonde haired boy comes running out the front door.

"Yo, dude! You got a new car? Sweet!" Miles calls out in a slightly distant voice. "Wow dude, it's old. And like… the paint is all weird and cracked. And how old is it? It looks as old as my dad." I's not old, it's antique, Miles, and do you see me bitching about your hair and taste in fashion? No? Then quit putting Sam's new car down. First cars are supposed to look like this.

But I don't say anything. I just frown in displease from the back seat, and listen to the two teens go back and forth about the car. "Give it up, Miles; at least I have a car, so get in if you want a ride." Miles finally climbs in, and I begin one of the longest car rides of my lifetime. So I just lay in the back seat, contemplating on the universe and the meaning of life and the universe and everything. Surprise, surprise; the answer is forty-two, just as it always is. I need to go on a job hunt tomorrow. I can't this evening because I'm going to be at the party, obviously, but since it's a long weekend, I can go tomorrow. And I also have Geo homework. Argh! I don't want to do homework. Maybe I should just say my house was burned down; then I can get away with not have a tone of homework done.

But then for the excuse to work, my house will really need to be burned down, so I can't use that excuse. Great; let's see what else I can come up with.

Oh boy; first month of the school year, and I'm already falling behind. I still need to pay for water and electricity, and the bus I take to school; oh and let's not forget I still owe money to summer school. Oh dear God; what am I doing with my life? I can't believe I'm actually letting this happen to me. I'm better than this; I know that. I know I could be better.

Then why aren't I doing anything? Because I'm lazy, that's why. I'm incompetent and have no willpower in me to make me do things.

"Dude, are you sure we're invited to this party?" brings me out of my thoughts. Thank God! I was already getting too lost in them. I hate thinking about my life. It's messy enough as it is, without of me confusing myself further.

"Mile, I'm invited, so I invited Sam… who invited you," I say; that last part being regretful. Miles is just going to embarrass us both, I just know it.

"Beside, Miles, it's a lake; public property." I laugh at that. "Sam, the sandbox was public as well and yet, Trent always kicked you out of it, back when we were in grade one. Oh, and he kicked you off the swings – literally – and the trampoline, and-"

"- Ok, we get it!" Sam cuts me off, and I snicker. We pull up to the curb and Sam's demeanor changes. "Oh my god; Oh my god guys, Mikaela's here." Ya genius, it's kind of why you came here, remember? You came here so you can impress her.

"Sam, relaxed, ok? Just breathe; you'll be fine," I say encouragingly. I mean, Mikaela may not have been my first choice for Sam, but underneath all of her snarky attitude and the beautiful hair and skillfully applied makeup, she's an insecure girl. She made bad choices, yes, but she wasn't a bad person. Underneath everything, she was just lost and looking for the right way. She put up a brave face for everyone, made herself tough.

I smile at the thought. She might not be a good person, but she isn't a bad person either. Miles and Sam get you, and Sam helps me out of the car. I straighten my striped blue-grey shoulder shirt and shorts, and Sam straightens his own shirt.

"Ok, Miles, just don't do anything weird." Ya, good luck with that, Sam. "Hey, Raven, I'm good?"

"Huh? Oh, ya hold on," I say, crossing over to him and straighten his shirt more, fixing the collar. "There, now you're good," I say with a smile. "OH and Sam? Did you have to park in front of Trent? You're just asking for it, you know." Trent's been getting at Sam for all eternity now, and now Sam had yet another reason to be picked on: an old car.

I watch the said teen toss a football to one of his buddies, getting the attention of the group. "Hey guys, check it out," Trent says, turning to us, leaning on his car, a smug expression on his face. I resist the urge to roll my eyes at him. Now don't get me wrong, I'm no saint, but I try to hold my temper with people as long as possible before losing it and becoming a real bitch.

And no, I don't let people walk all over me, but I do try to show them that I couldn't care less about them and their pathetic lives by simply ignoring all the remarks they give me – but that only happens half the time; the other half… well let's just say it isn't my proudest characteristic.

Mikaela comes up behind him, wrapping her arms around his chest and giving him a well plaid fake smile.

"Hey bro!" Trent calls out to Sam, who I instantly feel tense up next to me, "that car! It's nice," He says, his voice sarcastic. Sam turns back to look at his car, and I feel him hurt. I though, keep my gaze on Mikaela, smiling a little when I see her gaze fly to her boyfriend's car for the briefest moment, her eyes saying 'well, it's better than your car'. She's something of a car genius. Problem there is, she know a lot about something, but it's frowned down upon.

Men are sexist jerks.

I bury my face in my hands, as Miles decides climbing a tree isn't weird, thus it's ok. I fight back the urge to pull him down off of it. God this boy is embarrassing.

Trent comes up to us from around his car, smirking at Sam, who tries to look anywhere but Trent. I want to tell him to just ignore Trent, but know that it will only give Trent the more reason to make fun of him. I suddenly feel like everyone is watching us, and become highly uncomfortable under all the pairs of eyes. I slow down, standing a little behind Sam, trying to hide the fact that I'm actually hiding behind him.

"So what are you guys doing here?" Trent asks broadly, looking for something to put Sam down for. I feel Sam tense further and resist the urge to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Come one Trent, it's getting old already. Get over yourself, and grow up.

Oh man; who am I to tell anyone to grow up? Raven, have you seen where you live lately? First, why don't you become perfect yourself, and then you can judge people.

Sam hesitates for a brief moment, shooting Miles a concealed glare, pursing his lips. "We're here to climb this tree," He says, and I can hear the embarrassment clearly in his voice. Trent, please stop this. Sam didn't do anything to you; he doesn't deserve this. Stop being a jerk.

"I-I see that; it looks fun," Trent says, half sarcastically, and even half pitifully. Ya, Trent feels pitiful for us over Miles, who is mounting a tree trunk. This has got to be the saddest thing ever. I feel my face flare up, a bright shade of red and I hide myself behind Sam, who I can practically hear saying "thanks for the support".

"You know s- I thought I recognized you: you tried out for the football team last year, right?" Oh for the love of God; Trent! Ya, Sam tried out for the football team in grade ten; he wanted to impress Mikaela that way. Nope, sports are out of his league – well, actual sports; he's actually really good at video games. You'd think that – knowing me – I'd be really good, and technically, I am, but he beats me in every game we try; no exceptions.

"Oh! No, no, no; that wasn't like… a real tryout." Nice one – note the sarcasm. "I was researching a book I was writing. "Ok, now I'm confused. Trent's face lights up like a child's on Christmas Eve.

"Oh ya?"

"Ya," Sam replies, nodding in embarrassment. I'm sorry Sam, I really want to step in, but I know I'll only make everything worse! I'm so sorry!

"Ya, what's it about? Sucking at sports?" Trent, Please, I am begging you, leave him be; he did nothing to deserve this! Just get over yourself already! Quit being such a revolting jerk; it's not fair to Sam!

Sam presses his lips into a tight line, looking mortified. He gives a small, nervous laugh, but I hear determination behind it. Oh no, I don't like that. Sam, what are you up to? "No, it's about the link between brain damage and football." My hand flies to my wide-open mouth, slapping it shut very loudly. I… cannot… believe he just said that!

Trent looks like he's about to beet Sam up, but Sam keeps going, though losing his nerve considerably. "No-no, it's a good book; you're friends will love it." My other hand flies to my mouth, trying to keep my laugh back. Wow Sam, where were you last night? Did you see ask the wizard of Oz to give you courage? I'd never heard Sam say anything like that before! I mean, he took the bullying like a champ, always keeping a straight face and not breaking down in fear like most do – yet anything thing I love about him – but never something like this! Too bad I had a gut feeling that none of this was going to end well for him.

"It's got mazes in it; you know… little coloring section… popup pictures… a lot of fun." Buy this point, Sam lost his guts and was now winging it and trying to think of a way out of being beat up publicly. But I have to give him credit: that was pretty damn good!

"That's funny." Trent is about to beat the living daylight out of him. He takes a step forward, to Sam, and I step in this time, seeing as Mikaela got in the way first. I stood, facing Sam, my hands up. "Sam, forget it; he's not worth the calories you waist, talking to him."

Behind me, I hear Mikaela trying to stop Trent. Sam takes a step back, and I feel Trent do tha same. I turn around, giving him a look, but he winks at me.

"Looking good in those shorts there," he says provocatively.

Like I said, my patience only goes so far. "Trent," I say, pressing my palms together in front of my chest, "Yes, you're a hotty, and yes, we've all long since established that you have a gigantic dick, but that's because you are a dick. I will sleep with you when it rains cows and hell freezes over."

Ok, none of that actually happened. Well… it did but, you know… in my head. In real life, it was more like this:

I give a nervous and more than awkward laugh, wrapping my arms around myself. "Eh… ok. I'll just uh… go now… right over there; by the car with the big color-I-I mean the bright color, Sam's car… ya… I'll just go now." And then nervously hurry away, climbing into the car as quickly as humanly possible and hide in the back seat.

"Oh my god, I can't believe I said that!" I whisper-shout in an overly high-pitch voice. "Oh dear lord; why? Why was I given the curse of social awkwardness? I'm humiliated! I'll never be able to show my face in public again! I'm done for; embarrassed beyond any hope of being unembarrassed!" I hide my face in my hands and stupidly begin to slightly sob. I have personally always – like, my whole life – been paranoid as hell of rape – and I know I'm not the only one. If I'm walking home late, in the dark, through a neighborhood like mine, all I can ever think of is 'oh my god, please anything happen to me; please don't let me be raped.

And sexual harassment – like a minute ago – quite honestly wasn't anything overly new. I have to admit that I'm pretty; I really am. But that always seems to work against me. And whenever someone does something that so much as suggests that they want me, I get excitedly paranoid, and afraid, and walk away, acting like an idiot, because that's how I act when I'm nervous. And I know that the 'right' think to do is to tell someone, but let's face it: when have I ever done the right thing?

So instead of standing up to a bully, like all those movies – which are full of crap, by the way – or be like Sam and think of a witty comeback, I act like a freak and hide. How very brave of you, Raven; you make me proud.

I pear out from behind the driver's seat, looking out the windshield, just in time to see Mikaela shove Trent out of the way, and walk away like a boss. Did she just… dump him? Wow, good job. Sam and Miles come over, Miles climbing – no, literally, climbing – in through the window, as Sam comes to lean against the driver's door.

I roll my eyes st Miles, choosing to not say anything over embarrassing myself further.

"Who's gonna drive you home…" I jump, staring at the radio as it comes to life. "… Tonight…"

"Man what's wrong with your radio?" Miles asks a little distantly. Ya, what is wrong with the radio. Oh well, it might be broken, but it's broken in a good way, because it's right. "Sam…" I start. "… I'm gonna drive her home tonight," the boy in question finishes and I smile.

"What? She's an evil jock concubine man, let her hitchhike." Hitchhike? She lives ten mile away! "She lives ten miles from here, ok?" Sam says, echoing my thoughts, "It's my only chance, you gotta be understanding here, ok?"

"Ok, we'll just put her in the back-"

"Did you just say 'put her in the back'?" Sam interrupts him, disbelief in his voice. Miles instantly tries to think of an excuse. "I called shotgun!" But Sam won't have it. He turns around, getting into the car as he says, "Miles, I'm not putting her in the back; you gotta get out of my car right now." Yes! Thank you!

"That's party foul!" Miles complains.

"What rues?"

"Uh, bros before hoes!"

"Miles, I'm begging you to get out of my car," Sam says, making a praying gesture with his hands, leaving Miles shocked more than ever.

"You can't do this to me!" Well, looks like their friendship only goes so far when a girl is involved.

"I need you to get out of my car right now." Miles looks at Sam, his mouth hanging open in shock, but he does as asked, climbing out of the car and closing the car. We leave him dumbfound and drive after Mikaela, the music still playing. I smile at that, finding it cute.

"Mikaela!" Sam shouts, pulling up next to her. "It's Sam… Witwicky? I hope I didn't get you stranded or anything!" He drives at a steady pace, keeping up with his crush. He's had a crush on her for forever. The girl in question, though, doesn't even turn her head to look at him; her eyes looked on the road in front of her, an angry and thoughtful expression on her face.

"So listen, I was wondering if I could ride you home- I-I mean give you a ride home." Mikaela stops, considering what Sam just said. "In my car, to your house." She reaches for the door handle, and Sam opens the door for her to get in, and we drive away.

We ride in awkward silence for a few minutes, Mikaela staring out the window, while I lay on my back, one leg on the seat, and the other on the floor, being bored.

"I can't believe I' here right now," I hear Mikaela mutter. I raise my eyebrows. Well, nice of you to appreciate what Sam does for you. Sam turns for a second, giving me a hurts glance. "You can duck down if you want; it won't hurt my feelings." But the disappointed and saddened note in his voice on the last word says otherwise.

"Uh? No, no, no; I didn't mean… I didn't mean here with you, I just mean here like… in this situation." Oh, well, that's better that my first thought. No wonder people always tell you to not jump to conclusions. "It's that same situation that I'm always in because I hues I just have a weakness for hot guys, f-for tight abs and big arms," Mikaela says, and something in her voice tells me she's testing something. From the back, in the side mirror – or whatever the rear view mirrors on the sides are called – I see the ever to tiny smirk on her lips.

That little brat.

My mouth opens in a shocked smile, eyebrows raised. But as soon as she saw me in the mirror, she covered it with a brushing off, 'what ever' smirk.

I bury my face in my hands as Sam shows off his 'big arms' and something tells me it's only human courtesy that keep both Mikaela and I alike, from laughing. Poor kid; he's trying so hard. The two of them go into an exchange from which I cringe – especially when Mikaela asks if Sam is new to school. Ya, ouch. But then things just get weird:

The car starts making sputtering noises that even I can recognize as not a very good sign. This forces Sam to drive off the highway – quite the distance, at that – as a song I don't know plays on the radio. Ya, the radio is messed up big time. Sam ends up parking the car at a cliff, overlooking hills and valleys.

The scenery perks my interest and I all but lean out between the two front seats, looking out into the valley. Sam tries to come up with an excuse, claiming that it isn't his fault as Mikaela pins her hair back out of her face. He babbles on and on, until she cuts him off. "Just pop the hood," She states, getting out of the car. I lean over to Sam, whispering, "Sam, she gets the point, you don't need to say it over and over." He gives me a desperate look, showing me that he's nervous, and I brush it off, returning his look with one of my own telling him to just not do anything too rash and everything will be fine.

He gets out of the car, where Mikaela is already working her magic, trying to find the problem and fix it if possible. It should be easy – which it is – except for that she never finishes the job, because Sam asks that one thing that was the biggest mistake he ever made. She was trying to fix, all the while telling him, "oh you know, I don't really broadcast it; guys don't like it when you know more about cars than they do. Especially not Trent; he hates it.

"Well… if Trent is such a jerk, why do you hand out with him?" Oh no you didn't. Sam, why did you ask that?!

Mikaela is silence for a little while, and I can see the end of any chance he had with her as she says, "you know what? I'm just gonna walk." Oh God.

I bury my face in my hands as Mikaela gets her bag and walks away. Oh my God; I can't believe that just happened. This is bad; this is very, very bad.

Sam freaks out, begging the car to start and the car flares to life, music blasting. Yes! I throw my arms up into the air, into to have them painfully hit the roof, causing me to cringe and rub my hurting knuckles.

"Baby come back!" the music screams, at which I burst out laughing. Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you! "Hey!" Sam screams, closing the hood, and the passenger door before getting into the driver's seat, and turning around. "Hey!" Mikaela turns around, and I catch a glimpse of an amused smile on her face. "Wait a second!"

Sam stops for Mikaela and she gets in, and we drive away, to her place. After a little while – and yesterday, given that I sat, writing another chapter until three in the morning – finally catches up with me and I barely have time to react before I fall onto the seat, eyes closed.

AN: I hope you liked the chapter. The two songs I used are "It's My Life" by Bon Jovi and "My Life Would Suck Without You" by Kelly Clarkson. And I know that the second one doesn't come out until 2009, but can we please pretend that it does, because it matched the scene perfectly.

Also, I would really like a beta for this story, so if you're interested, PM me please.

Remember to vote for the pairing you prefer (Sam or Optimus) and I will see you all next time.