Holy hot dogs, it's been so incredibly long since I updated this fic. Well, I've been on it for a bit, and others of course, but been a bit slow on editing and such. Anyways, here's a new chapter.

-Juana

Chapter Eight: The Crush, Part Two

That afternoon, Sari is back with me, having just been picked up. We are headed home, stuck in a tight bit of traffic when she asks me,

"Can we walk home today?"

We're only a mile away from the highway, so I safely pull over on the side of the road and transform for her.

"And why do you want to walk, Sari? I'll admit it is a beautiful day," I add as I look up at the clear, blue sky. Sari jumps in the air a few times and answers happily,

"Just 'cause!" I smile down at her and nod. It makes me so happy to know she wants to become even more active—she's always so full of energy. We start our journey down the sidewalk, where we run into a very busy street currently overloaded with school buses, parents picking up their children and teachers leaving from Sari's school and various other schools in the area.

"Sari," I say as I look both ways, "hold onto me. This is dangerous from a pedestrian view. I never realized how bad it could be." Sari leaps up and grabs my hand as best she can, gripping it with the incredible strength only a little girl could have. She actually manages to force me to bend over, just so that I can keep a hold on her. Even though I have no skin, I can still feel her sharp little fingernails scrapping against my hand. It's a little strange.

Moments later, the 'cross' sign flashes, and we cross the street. We are faced with the cheers and hoots of various human children, and the occasional whistle from a human adult. I'm not used to the 'hero worship', nor do I enjoy it the way Bumblebee does, so I move along quickly to get away from the noise. Once on the other side of the road, we start to walk on, but something keeps tugging at my arm. I look down to see what it could possibly be, and find that Sari has neglected to let my hand go.

"Sari," I say, "You can let go now. We'll be fine from here."

"Nah," she replies, "I think I need to hold on. Just in case."

"Sari, nothing here can hurt you."

"Nuh-uh. I'm not letting go." Sighing, I lift Sari up, seeing as she's pretty much attached herself to my hand like a barnacle, and pick her off by grabbing the neck of her dress. I place her back down, only to have her latch onto my leg like a leech. I groan and smack myself in the forehead, then repeat the process of forcing her to let go. Again she grabs me and I give up. We—well, I walk us home, Sari clinging to me like a little organic barnacle. It was so very odd.

Sari let go only after I threatened to take away story-time and ran off to her room to do her homework. Exhausted, frustrated and just a little in need of some high-grade, I plop down on the giant couch Bulkhead had miraculously found a while back, and off-line my optics. I focus on the blissful silence surrounding me for a mere breem before Bumblebee comes strolling in, loudly singing some song he'd heard on Antique Rock Radio.

"WE DIDN'T START THE FIRE! IT WAS ALWAYS BURNING SINCE THE WORLD WAS—HI, PROWL!"

"Ugh…why must you be so loud? Can't you go a breem without talking?"

"Nope!" Bumblebee answers cheerily as he sits down next to me, "We tried that already, remember?"

"Yes, I recall. You couldn't do it." Bumblebee's tone turns angry.

"Hey, shut up. I did it, and I can do it again." This coming from the mech that just admitted he couldn't keep quiet for a breem. At this point I'm too tired to really care, so I online my optics, notice he's carrying a can of oil and say in a most uncharacteristic way,

"Bumblebee, I'm sick of listening to you. Shut up for once." I snatch the can out of his hand and, to his shock and amazement, down it in mere seconds. I hand it back to him, devoid of oil now, and get up to go to my room. Bumblebee doesn't say anything, nor does he follow after me. Did I mention I had wanted some high-grade? Oil was the next best thing.

As I walk to my room, I can hear Sari singing as well. I decide to check it out; I can only assume that she's watching television or blasting her radio and completely neglecting her homework. I don't go in to her room, I merely peek in and see that she is actually on her bed, writing in a pink and yellow notebook I've never seen before. I can tell she's passionate about whatever it is she's writing about, because she's writing speedily. She is also singing something very 'lovey-dovey', and I realize this may be part of her 'crush' on me.

KNOCK KNOCK.

Sari's singing ceases immediately. She calls out,

"Who is it?" I answer,

"It's Prowl."

"Oh," she answers back, "Hi! Come in!" I enter her room and sit down on her floor, facing her. I reach my hand out for the book and say,

"Sari, may I see your homework for the night?" With a loud snap, Sari slams the covers of the book together, hiding its contents from me. She hugs the book and says loudly,

"NO, you can't see this one. This is my diary. You do know what a diary is, right?" I shake my head and answer that no, I don't. She stares in complete surprise at me, then explains:

"A diary is a private book, and the only person allowed to look at it is the writer. Me. You can't read it, Bumblebee can't read it, not even Avani or my teachers can read it."

"And what sorts of things do you write in it?"

"Anything! I write about my day, what cool adventures we had, drawings, doodles, poems and whatever else I want to put in it."

"Is there anything inappropriate or grown-up in there I should know about?"

"Ew, like politics? BORING! I only keep cool kid stuff in here. I even pasted a photo of my birthday cake from three years ago in here! I was little back then." I smile and nod, then ask,

"When do you plan on getting to your homework?"

"After I'm done with my diary." She gives me a wide, toothy grin.

"And will you be needing any assistance with your homework?" She answers almost instantly,

"OKAY! Just gimme…ten minutes, 'kay? I gotta finish my diary entry." She stares at me for a moment, and then I realize that I'm supposed to leave her room. I do not know what will happen if I see her diary, but I don't want to know. Perhaps a human curse of some sort will embed itself in my spark? I do not know, and I decide to not ask Sari. I simply get up, leave her bedroom and wait for her outside in the hallway.

While I wait (for longer than ten minutes, might I add), I look up 'diary' on the Internet to get a clearer understanding of what she's keeping. I find what Internet users call "blogs", but they don't seem to fit the same format as Sari's little book. Finally, I stumble upon a site that discusses them in full detail:

"A diary is a record (originally in written book format) with discrete entries arranged by date reporting on what has happened over the course of a day or other period. Schools or parents may teach or require children to keep diaries in order to encourage the expression of feelings and to promote thought."

Expression of feelings? It hits me that Sari might be writing strange little 'crush'-related entries in her diary. Perhaps tomorrow I will take a quick look, just to be sure.

"You can come in now!" I reenter Sari's room and sit down, ready to start some homework. I scan the room for the diary, only to find that it's suddenly missing.

"Sari, where is your diary?" She giggles and answers,

"You're silly! Everyone knows you're s'possed to hide your diary! It's secret. Not even my dad or God can read it. It's forbidden. Let's start with math, since you're really good at it."

"A-HEM, young lady," I retort, "It's not my homework."

"'It's not my homework'," Sari throws back in a taunting, childish voice that is meant to be a mockery of my voice albeit a very poor mockery, "Come on, Prowl, I was just being funny."

"Well, your 'funny' attitude is going to get you grounded for a weekend if it doesn't end right now." Sari suddenly drops her 'innocent' face and act. She glares at me angrily, then says,

"You know what? I can do my homework by myself. I don't need your stupid help." Oh no. It begins. I kneel down beside her and reply,

"Sari, I'm here to help you with your homework, just like every night. Let's not argue, please? I just want to help you, not do it for you. You know that." She grumbles something at me, then says out loud,

"Yeah, well, I can do it myself. Leave me alone."

"Oh, for crying out loud, Sari. What is going on? You give me this snotty attitude, I react to it the way anybody would, and then you get angry at me. It's a never-ending cycle, and I'm sick and tired of it. Just stop already." The exasperated tone in my voice and the way I'm using words is obviously a surprise to her, because she doesn't say anything. Her eyes get big, her mouth gets pouty, and then, the worst thing a child can do: she starts to cry.

Not just any cry, though. Normally, when Sari cries, she runs off, slams her door and hides. Her crying always sounds so normal, because it's something we've grown used to. But not this time. This cry is different, I can hear it. There's more emotion and true sadness in this. I think it may have to do with her crush on me. Which is just fantastic; I think I may have made things hard for her and the rest of the base.

Hopefully I'll have the third and final part up and ready sometime in the next month, but if not, just continue to be patient. I've got much to do. Thanks for all your support, too, guys, it's been helping. Really.

-Juana