After Samuel did his family report and ranted about how some people should really buy his Grandfather's glasses. I grabbed a bunch of stapled papers and walked to the front.

"My History report is about my Father-" I was cut off by the teacher.

"Jake, this is history. What is your father, 80?" He joked with an unamused expression.

There was a volley of laughs from the class, I should be laughing at them, I thought angrily.

I turned to my teacher, "My father's dead, I think that made some history."

The teacher nodded and said "Sorry." I replied, It's Okay, It's Okay.

I focused on the class and started to talk about my Father's job, I showed them a picture of one of his more developed inventions, I showed them blue-prints for my Grapple-Dart Gun, and then I went on from where his side of the family originated. About how his parents were from France and his ancestors were mysteriously Acadian, even though most seemed to not give a crap about Acadia and didn't know where it was.

"Isn't that some prehistoric island?" One kid scratched his head.

"No, Acadia is located in Canada and the french took over and forced the Acadians out." I answered.

"Of course, that's over a hundred years ago." I finished, straightening my papers.

Just as I was about to sit down the bell rang, me and Sam walked up to the teachers desk.

"Pretty good right?" Sam asked.

"I'd say... A solid B-Minus." The teacher told Sam, he turned to me. "As for you, You get a B Plus."

"Thanks." I muttered and l left to the halls.

The last thing I heard come out of Samuels mouth was, What would Jesus do?


I put the rest of my stuff into my locker and grabbed my sweater. I saw Samuel coming out of the classroom with a happy expression and holding his paper up.

"How'd you do bro?" I asked him.

"He gave me an A-Minus. It's still an A though, you want to come help pick my new car out?" He answered and asked.

I frowned, "Uh sure. It's strange, every time when you get the chance you ask me to come."

"I know your Mom wont care." He replied.

"Hm. Thanks." I mumbled.


"Dad! Dad! You've got to be kidding." Samuel shouting.

"Your right, I am." His cheap father said.

Sam's expression became sad, I patted him on the back, "At least your allowed a car."

"I'm not getting you a Porsche." His father continued.

Mr Witwicky laughed.

"You think that's funny?" Sam asked.

"Ya I think it's funny." His father told him.

We turned in some place called Bolivia or some other crap, I heard an engine rev and I saw a yellow car pass by.

Mr Witwicky parked and we got out, Sam said something about two cars and virgins. I didn't want to hang around to hear more so I told them, "I'm gonna look around more, Kay?"

I walked into some random space and saw that exact car I saw earlier. I didn't stand there for long, I walked up to the car and touched the hood with my hand.

"Looks like we've got a follower." I mumbled.

It was as if the car actually shivered beneath my touch. Woah I thought.

The others came over and Sam got in. I went over to the passenger side and got in too.

"I think this is your car." I told Samuel. He nodded.

Bobby, the car dealer, shouted at the repair guy and the repair guy said the car was loco. I rolled my eyes. Sam wiped a piece on the steering wheel, there was a symbol on it.

"I have a feeling this cars important." I spoke my mind to Sam.

"I do too." He replied.

"...And the Custom Paint..." Bobby was cut off by Sam.

"Ya but the paint is custom faded." Samuel intergected.

"Ya but its custom."

"It's custom faded."

"Whats your car when its picky to understand." (What did he say again?)

"5 Grand." Bobby stated.

"No I'm not paying over 4." Mr Witwicky said.

The two said something and Bobby stuck his head back in, "Get out of the car." He ordered.

I did exactly as he said.

"N-No, You said cars pick their drivers." Sam reminded him.

"Ya well, cars don't pick a person with a cheap ass father." Bobby insulted.

Bobby went to another car and suggested it.

"There's a fiesta with racing stripes over there." Mr Witwicky suggested.

"I don't want a fiesta." Sam said.

"...This is a classic car. I sold a car like this the other day." Bobby talked about another small car.

When Sam closed the Drivers door the passengers door flung out and hit the car Bobby was in. I couldn't help but chuckle, of course no one heard. As usual Bobby started talking like an idiot and something odd was going on with Sam's favourite. "Go" The radio said.

All of the car windows around us exploded. Bobby looked around with a devastated expression and desperately held up his fingers, "4 thousand."


I beated the punching bag one punch at a time.

"That should be me with a girlfriend." I scolded the bag.

I punched the thing like it was Trent himself.

"That should be me with all the money."

My punching became more excessive.

"That should be me with a family."

At this point the punching bag should've been screaming with agony. Like all the people who hurt me. I felt a warm hand settle on my shoulder.

"Ssh... Be calm brother." My sister crooned.

I turned around and hugged her instantly, we were in an embrace for a while and I started to cry.

"If Father was here those teenagers wouldn't be on us all the time." I told her.

"That's right, and its sad. Say if we still had dad and we were bullies." She stated, crying too.

"Now, we have a party to go to."


"Are you sure we're allowed to this party?" Miles asked Sam.

"Ya, the Lakes public property." He answered Miles.

He drove closer to the lake.

"Oh my god, Makayla's here dude." Sam stated excitedly.

We got out of the car and Sam asked Miles the key thing. "Don't do anything weird."

Me and Miles agreed not to be the weird in Samuels opinion.

"Hey look at that car, it's nice." Trent commented.

Miles took his sweater off and started climbing a tree.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Trent asked me and Sam.

Before Samuel could say anything stupid I stepped up, "The Lakes public property. We can do what we want."

"Is that so?" Trent looked me over. "Isn't your name Jake? Didn't your father die?" He asked.

Trent was seething and I was too. We were in that rooster fight position where we're face to face about to beat the crap out of each other. Makayla tried stopping him but Trent didn't budge.

"Ya, my Father died. And I wonder how proud yours would feel about you being the school ass people get to see every day." I told him.

"Did you just call me an Ass?" Trent asked, surprised I would step up. "Let's find out who the real ass is." He announced.

Uh Oh, another fight. I gulped. Sam slowly backed up to his car for safety and Miles sat on his nest watching.