Author's Note: Hello, dear readers, and welcome back! I apologize for the long wait on this Chapter, and I have no excuses whatsoever for its delay. But, it is written and I am more than happy to finally post it.

Also, many thanks to SunsetLover1234 who left a wonderful review in my inbox! Reading your review, my friend, left a broad grin on my face and boosted my motivation quite a bit. My appreciation goes to you :). And to the followers and favorites of Her Guardian: thank you for sticking with this story and having such patience with me ^^

Now, before I depart, I might ask: Has anyone seen Transformers: Age of Extinction? And if so, did you enjoy it; or not so much? Personally, ignoring the flaws of the movie franchise, I rather liked the 4th installment. It seemed...fresh compared to the original trilogy - and in a good way, too. There can definitely be some great opportunities to take up in any possible sequels, if done correctly.

But, that is all from me. Enjoy, review, and have a good day, my dear readers.

Disclaimer: I own nothing from the Transformers: Prime TV series, or any other Transformers elements. Those belong to their respective owners. I do, however, own any characters or scenes not seen in Transformers: Prime; and they are rightfully my creations.

Chapter III:

Uncanny

"I look only to the good qualities of men. Not being faultless myself, I won't presume to probe into the faults of others." –Mahatma Gandhi

School went smoothly for Jane, and she could not have asked for a better conclusion to her afternoon. Granted, there were a couple of fastidious teachers seeking perfection from their students; and yes, there were a handful of classmates who paid Jane little to no heed despite her friendly attempts—but Jane expected no less, and continued throughout the day normally, learning the customs and habits of the school. Truly, Sparks and Jasper did not differ greatly in education, the new faces and a few peculiarities the basic factors setting them apart.

Maybe – just maybe – Jane preferred Jasper over Sparks, if only for the fact that everything was…fresh. Memories were not revived even once, and no one approached her to simply give their sincerest sympathies for her loss (which, despite the intended kindness in the condolences, only rubbed salt in a deep wound). No, she was offered greetings, introductions, and an occasional smile that held politeness rather than pity. She reveled in the change, her mood brightening throughout the day while the students around her slowly lost motivation due to seemingly endless lessons that dragged out the hours. Even Melanie shook her head and gave Jane an inquisitive look whenever they passed each other in the halls, her cousin popping a question upon why she was so 'cheery' every time.

If only they knew how much lighter she felt – how the dreaded school day morphed into a pleasant paradise within in her mind. Most would probably assume that she was acting sarcastically—or if they believed her outlook, ludicrously. Perhaps they would make the snide comment that this was 'only the first day; tell me how you feel next week.' Either way, Jane did not care; for, if she was enjoying herself and no harm was done, than she found nothing wrong with her utter glee.

Satisfied with her conclusion, Jane detached herself from her thoughts, trotting down the front steps of the school until she reached the sidewalk. Several students followed her outside and proceeded to walk along their respective paths toward whatever destination they had set; however, Jane did the opposite, pausing at the bottom before taking a seat next to the handrail. Melanie was still inside the building, undoubtedly finishing some task she had at the moment; and, although her cousin had insisted her to get a head start, Jane was determined to wait. She had a terrible sense of direction, and, unlike Melanie, she did not have a photographic memory – not that the latter would have served her much purpose, for she had not paid attention to the route Rickey had taken to get to the school. She blamed her initial anxiety for her inattentiveness.

Bending her legs, Jane propped her elbows on her knees and intertwined her fingers, rocking backward until she felt the upper step prod into her lower back. Her blue gaze roved across the scenery before her, quaint admiration twisting her lips into a smile as she observed the hardy buildings and few, strolling citizens. Jasper was certainly not an active town, the chattering students currently surrounding her the most enthusiasm she had seen since her arrival; however, she still retained her overall judgment since she had yet to explore the entirety of the place. Most of her time had been spent at the house, patching, painting, and putting everything in the right place—exhausting, but worthwhile once the work was completed.

She pursed her lips. Actually, instead of walking straight to the house, she would rather enjoy taking an extended detour – at least to learn more about the details that contributed to Jasper as a whole. True, she may find herself wandering in circles and meeting the same faces she saw just a handful of minutes beforehand (she distantly questioned whether that incident happened often here); but, she found that option considerably better than knowing nothing about her new home. Melanie would be more than willing to join the excursion too, Jane was sure, for her cousin was never one to turn down exploration in fear of missing something exquisite.

Nodding to herself, Jane decided to proffer the idea to Melanie once she finally emerged from the school—which seemed to be taking longer than Jane would have expected. She glanced back at the front doors, noting the stemming flow of students leaving the building. Melanie was nowhere within the next group of four friends that rang with laughter, nor was she one of the bobbing heads that came trailing behind the chortling companions. However, she did recognize one face amongst the teens – or, rather, she should say she recognized the hair: two black pigtails highlighted with blazing pink.

Miko—Jack's friend, Jane clearly remembered, recalling their awkward introduction that morning.

Jane considered drawing the energetic girl's attention, for she knew – even from their few, brief encounters throughout the day – that Miko was quite the conversationalist. At least the time would go by more quickly and Jane would not find herself completely bored.

But before Jane could raise her voice or wave a hand, the loud blare of a horn erupted from the curb. Startled, Jane spun around to find the source of the sudden sound; however, her actions only provided pain as her shoulder struck the handrail sharply, earning a wince and a harshly muttered 'ow'. She cupped her opposite hand on the damaged area and massaged it gingerly with her fingertips, lips pressing into a thin line to prevent the foul language that threatened to spill from her mouth—although, her refrainment proved difficult when the same horn bellowed its call for a second time.

Her blue eyes darted toward the road, following its length from left to right until the offending vehicle entered her line of sight—except, she did not anticipate that vehicle to be a hulking, green truck sitting motionless on the curb a few feet away from the staircase. How had that monster managed to slip past her? While her back was turned, searching for her cousin and debating whether she wished to speak with Miko during her spare time? But would she not have heard the engine? Surely it could not be so silent that she had not heard its approach – and surely she had not been too distracted to dismiss its undoubtedly powerful engine.

The corner of her lips dipped downward into a frown as she squinted, attempting to identify the driver behind the wheel. Unfortunately, the glass' was tinted; therefore, she could perceive anything beyond the surface – not even a faint, shadowy outline to provide her with a hint.

Strange. I wonder who it's waiting for, she mused absently, releasing her shoulder once the throbbing sensation dulled.

Her silent question was readily answered as footsteps came pounding down the stairs and a colorful blur darted past her. Jane arched an eyebrow as she caught the brief flash of pink-streaked pigtails before the figure yanked open the passenger door and plopped into her seat – once again, the person was Miko. An excited greeting left the aforementioned girl's throat, but the words were interrupted sharply as the door slammed shut after the truck had obtained its new occupant. The thick tires rolled away from the curb, slowly picking up speed as it drove down the road and disappeared from sight. Jane could have sworn she heard music blaring from the speakers, too, despite the improbability that sound could ever escape the compact metal that enveloped the vehicle.

Jane stared down the now empty road for a couple of minutes before finally blinking out of her reverie. Despite the boldness Jane has witnessed in Miko's personality, she was admittedly surprised by Miko's ride. What reasoning would lead to such a choice? Was the truck more resilient to the varying temperatures and grueling terrains that accompanied Jasper? Was it a more ideal form of transportation in the Nevada desert? Or did the truck simply match Miko's character with unquestionable accuracy?

Jane shrugged to herself. Truly, the answer could be one or the other. Perhaps time would tell.

"I'll be honest: I'm surprised you haven't ditched me yet, cuz," a familiar female voice echoed behind Jane, urging her to spin around on her uncomfortable make-shift chair. Melanie stood one step above her, eyebrows arched upwards mildly on her forehead. "I swear, you're too nice sometimes."

Jane snorted in amusement. "Why? Would you have left me at the first opportunity?" she asked, rising and brushing the dirt off the back of her thighs.

"I may have considered it," Melanie admitted with a weak shrug of her left shoulder. "It would have depended upon how long you took to get out here and what my overall mood was."

Jane hummed, adjusting the backpack weighing down her shoulders. A few textbooks could be felt, shifting underneath the black and white material, along with the cringe-worthy crumple of compressed papers. "Well, if it eases your conscience at all, I only stayed behind because I didn't know the exact way home."

Melanie's expressing turned sour at the comment, earning a chuckle from Jane. Her cousin gave her a light punch on her upper arm before padding down the last two steps and onto the sidewalk, twisting her body toward the right. "Well, then, dear cousin. Let me guide your footsteps," she mocked, gesturing to the sidewalk dramatically.

Jane – who provided another, soft snort in silent acknowledgement – accompanied her cousin, her thoughts easily straying from Miko and the green truck. Rather, she occupied herself with the idea she had formulated minutes earlier: trekking through Jasper and satisfying her curiosity about the town. She found no harm in the notion, other than the obvious fact that they would be home at a later time – but what would they do even if they did hurry to the house? Finish their assignments then scroll through the TV channels? Or, in her case, scribble on a piece of paper in hopes of creating an exceptional masterpiece? She certainly did not want to resort to artistic boredom—not after her sketch from last night.

Jane had not noticed her cousin's curious glances until aforementioned relative remarked subtly, "I know that look, cuz. It's usually plastered on your face when you're thinking deeply about something or trying to ignore my existence—sometimes both."

Jane lifted her blue gaze to meet Melanie's green one, an innocent expression dawning on the features of the former teen. "Sorry. What did you say, Mel?"

Melanie groaned, exaggerating an eye roll. "I take back my earlier statement. You are the worst cousin ever."

"Maybe. But you still love me anyway."

"Don't press your luck," Melanie warned, lips forming a straight line, as if she could not decide whether to smile or frown. Then, coming to a complete stop, she crossed her arms across her chest and stared at Jane expectantly. "So obviously, you have something on your mind. Want to fill me in? Or is it just as secretive as your sketch last night?"

Jane's lighthearted demeanor faltered slightly at the recent memory; however, she forcibly shoved those dark thoughts out of her brain and shifted her focus back to her plans. Melanie was only joking about her last comment, right? "Well since you asked," Jane drawled, rocking back on her heels and slipping her hands into her jean's pockets, "I thought that it would be a good idea to explore our new home – you know, actually walk around instead of watching the town pass us by through the car window."

Her cousin visibly perked up at the suggestion, straightening and letting her arms hang loosely at her sides once more. "So you're finally ready to give this place a chance?"

Jane scrunched up her nose, blue irises shining with genuine confusion and the corner of her lips twitching as she fought the urge to frown. Why would she not be ready to accept Jasper? Today alone had lifted a burden off her shoulders, and she loved the sensation. It was as if she had been imprisoned for the past five years and had only recently regained her freedom. For what reason would she question her happiness in the one place that had actually succeeded in changing her previous, dreary perspective? Exactly: she had no reason.

But perhaps Melanie did.

Suddenly, their conversation from last night resurfaced in her mind. Her cousin had seemed rather somber and dull at the time, and her longing for Sparks had confirmed Jane's suspicions: Melanie was homesick, and she was having a much harder time in Jasper than she had probably initially thought. Twice – if this fresh question counted – Melanie had asked Jane about matters that truly related to her own dilemmas. Why hide her true emotions, though? Was she trying to be strong? Or was she embarrassed and did not want to express her yearning for Sparks?

Either way, guilt still managed to plague Jane's heart, and a sliver of selfishness served to further dampen her mood. Melanie was struggling, yet she had not done much to help her cousin—actually, she had not even taken notice until Melanie brought up the subject last night. That pained her, for whenever she was haunted by the terrible crash that killed her parents, Melanie was always the first to see the ache and help her confront the past (despite its lack of true effect, since the memory would only reemerge vengefully a short time afterwards). Why could she not return the favor? Why was the debt so hard to pay?

A hand shook Jane's shoulder, and she blinked furiously to clear her mind of the troubling thoughts that filled her skull. Then, collecting herself and raising her head (when had she let it fall?), she stared up into the concerned and ashen face of her cousin.

"You okay, Jane?" Melanie asked warily, her fingers tightening their grip, as if she feared that Jane would collapse on the sidewalk without the support.

Jane nodded, waving her own palm nonchalantly. "Yeah, I'm good. Just thinking," she reassured, forcing a tight-lipped smile. "I thought you knew when I am thinking about something."

Melanie did not return the smile; rather, she frowned, forehead creasing in an emotion Jane could only guess was worry. "I do," she replied solemnly. Jane waited patiently for her to continue; however, Melanie did not further her point, leaving an uncomfortable silence lingering in the air between them.

Therefore, hoping to move past the deliberating subject, Jane urged, "So should we get going? We don't want to lose precious daylight, do we?"

Her cousin sighed softly, but nodded. "You're right: let's go before it gets too late."

Jane inwardly relaxed, watching Melanie turn on her heel and begin to cross the road toward the nearest buildings. She followed close behind her cousin, running her fingers through her hair to push away a few sweaty strands.

Meanwhile, her mind was spinning, hoping Melanie's concerns would just disappear. There has already been enough tension since their arrival – she herself undoubtedly a large source of the negative energy – and today had been the first day of peace.

Had. Now everything around her felt uneasy – unstable.

Jane desperately prayed for the peace to return—and soon.

Jasper was indeed the quietest town Jane had had the pleasure of exploring, contrasting blatantly with the atmosphere that surrounded Sparks—or any city she has visited. She and Melanie had, of course, met a handful of friendly faces and conversed with the majority of them, whether in the streets or within the plain, simple buildings lining either side of the road; however, the numbers were considerably fewer than if they had decided to take a stroll through their former city. Cars, too, were sparse, as if their need had drastically decreased within the town's limits—which, honestly, would not surprise Jane by any means, since the place was relatively easy to traverse, especially on a casual trip.

The businesses were small, clean, and rather enjoyable, considering the down-to-earth aura that surrounded them, and Jane had a certain sense of delight wandering down the open aisles and observing the wares. They reminded Jane of the odd shops she and her parents – or Melanie during Jane's later years – would visit on the occasion, devoid of the congestion that dominated the larger, more populous stores—a memory that was bittersweet, practically smacking her across the cheek as soon as she stepped through the front doors, heard the soft chimes of the bell signaling her and Melanie's arrival, and sucked in her first breath. Why she enjoyed the experience, despite the connections it made with her past, was beyond her knowledge; but, she would deny the joy. If she did not feel chained or burdened by those memories that flooded her brain as she sauntered around the perimeter of the shop, then she judged that it was safe to continue. The exit was only a few steps away if she needed to leave, anyhow.

Besides: Melanie had seemed to enjoy every moment of the excursion. Her careful eyes observed every fine detail, and not a single place disappointed her—that is, if the various items she showed Jane or ogled over was not proof enough. Truly, she did not need to live in a big city to be happy – she was satisfied by the littler things in life. Cherished them, actually.

The discovery made Jane wonder: if Melanie loved the components that created a small town like Jasper, why did she even long for Sparks? Why has she never expressed the same passion for her hometown back in Wisconsin? Was it her friends back in Sparks that kept the city present in her mind? Or had she made memories that she did not want to let go? Jane did not have the answers to any of those questions, much to her disappointment. However, she did not have the courage or will to press her cousin, in fear of sparking some sadness that would interrupt her jovial mood. Also, did she even have the right to ask such a personal query? Melanie may not wish delve into the subject any further than their confrontation last night.

But she always asks me such questions. She knows when I'm struggling with the past. She is never afraid to step in.

This thought never left Jane's mind, lingering in the background, serving as a painful reminder. The worst possible answer she could receive from her cousin was a denial to speak about the problem – if any existed – and perhaps a mild retort that nothing needed to be discussed. So why was Jane still hesitant? Did her initial doubts overrule the prowling, powerful integrity that managed to remain in her head?

Again, she was confounded, unable to explain her own feelings. What a poor excuse.

But, despite her mixed emotions, the journey through Jasper – or, at least, most of Jasper – was filled with laughter and neutral conversation. Jane did not address any of her concerns toward Melanie's fluctuating attitudes, and Melanie, in turn, never expressed any suspicions about Jane's earlier reverie. Some words were better left unspoken, Jane supposed solemnly.

The majority of Jane's day was spent quickly as soon as she and Melanie returned home. Assignments were completed; Aunt Crystal's dinner was prepared and promptly eaten; Rickey was greeted warmly once he returned home later that night; and conversation flitted amongst the family members.

Normality had clung to her day—a factor that struck her strange. If this sequence of events had occurred in Sparks rather than Jasper, Jane would have felt differently; and she clearly knew that a fine line was drawn between her two homes. Perhaps the death of parents had tainted the formerly beloved city of Sparks—had forced Jane's mind into a more dreary state. However, she could not confidently confirm that theory. The delicate sensation was too arduous to define. Not even she could specify the difference.

And, for some reason, she was unperturbed by that mystery. She could bear it, live with it, experience it every day—and without a complaint or protest. Similar to her mixed emotions within the quaint stores of Jasper, she felt that there was no problem to be found. Why disturb the peace – the balance? She had told Melanie on their first day in Jasper that she wanted desperately to forget the fatal car accident and carry on in life normally—and she has suddenly acquired it! She should be grateful!

But once again, her mind played games with her, as if a darker part of her persona enjoyed the twists and puzzles it could concoct. She wondered: was this a calm to a brewing storm? Would the dice be rolled and land on a horrific pair of numbers? A devastating end to the hope she had carefully kindled?

Her heart plummeted at the very notion, along with a disturbing fear that wracked her to her very core. She could not partake in another tragedy—add another sad chapter to her book of life. She had already used five years to release the grief that had grown from the loss of her parents – how could she recycle those events and start all over again? That was the point: she was determined to avoid that outcome, no matter the costs. She refused to be weighed down again, or to suffer any more dire consequences. She wanted to push forward, not backward.

That was her long train of thoughts ended as she relaxed on her mattress, arms folded behind her head and her blue eyes glued to the stark white ceiling. Darkness engulfed her bedroom, the shadows of her furniture deeper and the far corners of the room unrecognizable. The fan directly above her was currently on a low setting, providing a gentle, barely noticeable breeze that did not even disturb the curtains hanging from her window. Sleep had yet to overcome her, despite her attempts to ease her frame and settle the inward dispute raging in her mind—and she was slowly becoming more frustrated by the minute.

A quick peek at her digital clock displayed the time of twelve forty-five, seemingly mocking her as the five swiftly changed into a six. Exhaling laboriously, Jane repositioned her head to face the ceiling again, shutting her eyelids and tuning out the noises around her – whether real, or imaginary.

However, that task proved to be challenging; for, although her mind was attempting to stem its wonderings and queries, the rumble of an engine ripped Jane from her much-needed sleep. A familiar engine.

Jane yanked the covers off her body and stumbled out of her bed, brow furrowed as she clumsily strode toward the window. She considered switching on the lamp sitting on her desk, but decided that the light source was unnecessary – it would only cast a glare on the glass, anyhow. Pushing away the curtains and lifting one of the slants of the blinds with her thumb, she surveyed the outside world, searching for the object of her immediate interest.

A few, brief moments passed before Jane finally caught the single, white headlight gliding down the street, trailed by a pop of red – the headlight and taillight that could belong to only one type of vehicle: a motorcycle. And, coincidentally, she knew of only one person who owned the aforementioned item…

Jack Darby.

Squinting, Jane discovered the outline of two people straddling the motorcycle, cruising down the road before turning into a driveway, out of her visual range. If her sense of direction and location held true – if only this once – then that was Jack's driveway, connected to his house and leading into the garage.

Had Jack not told her that he was grounded and could not use his motorcycle until the penalty was lifted? Yes, Jane clearly remembered his words, repeating them silently in her head to ensure that she had not mistaken her neighbor. Therefore, had he not spoken the truth? Had something happened? Something deeply embarrassing or greatly tragic that he did not wish to relent? Granted, the truth was none of her business; however, that did not persuade her curiosity to ignore the matter, nor did it ease her irritation that she had been so blatantly lied to.

But…what if he wasn't lying? What if he's just disregarding the fact that he had been grounded from the motorcycle? Jane's reasoning argued, supported by a helpful dose of doubt. No, Jack was simply too nice for her to actually believe that he would be rebellious. Hence, the dark-haired boy would have to have a stunning excuse why he was riding his forbidden motorcycle at one o'clock in the morning—and with an unknown friend, too.

Realizing that she would see no further action, Jane stepped away from the blinds with a huff, closing her curtains once more. She knew, in the back of her mind, that she would never know what that excuse would be, for prying into Jack's personal life would lead her nowhere. Would she want to be bothered by a nosy neighbor, pestering her about her late night activities? Most assuredly not.

Jane crawled under the covers of her bed, turning to her side so her back was facing the window. Meanwhile, she came to a disappointing conclusion: whatever Jack had been doing, she had to convince herself that it was none of her concern. He could do what he wanted, drive where he wanted, do anything with that motorcycle of his, for it was his rightful property and she had no control over him. Tomorrow, she would just have to pretend that she never saw the two-wheeled vehicle or its driver and his companion. She would have to withhold her suspicions until she could, somehow, find an appropriate explanation. She would have to avoid the topic of the motorcycle, for fear of revealing her knowledge. She had to be normal. That should not be hard. She had acquired that quality today, had she not?

A clock from the living room chimed, alerting the changing hour to the lonesome 'one'. Jane closed her eyes tightly as she listened to the tune. Perhaps she was just fooling herself—perhaps normal was too complex for her to grasp.

After all, how could she ignore any incident involving a vehicle and someone she knew, whether family, friends, or acquaintances? In a pitiful way, that was an impossible task for her to accomplish—and she had no choice but to accept it.

Jack was going to hate her after tomorrow.