I'm so nice. I was going to make you people wait for thew next chapter, but, well... yeah. Here ya go.
Trust me. You'd definitely know if I owned Transformers. But since I don't... yeah. Depressing, huh.
"Sam! Sammy, Sammy!"
He groaned and rolled out of bed and onto the floor, growling at the little giggles that followed.
"Merik, what... have I told you about waking me... before one o' clock in the afternoon?"
The little blond boy giggled again, blue eyes shining.
"No' ta."
"And why... am I awake?"
"'Cause' miss Wes' wan's us dowstairs!"
He groaned again.
"Today's... adoption day, isn't it?"
"Yep!"
"I'll... be down soon. Now scat... you little scamp."
The child skipped out of the room and down the stairs.
"Don't... even know why she makes me... go down there anyways..."
He grumbled and whined to himself as he got dressed, grabbing his doll before making his way after the small boy.
Adoption day, AKA- sitting in a corner watching as every one else but you got adopted. Even if a couple was looking for a teenager to adopt, they didn't want a damaged one that came with emotional baggage.
Plus, the mid back length hair and the bi-coloured eyes were kind of a turn off for potential parents...
He was very, very happy Adoption Day only came once a month...
He made his way to his usual corner, sitting with his back to the wall, doll in his lap, watching the people walking around the room.
One brave couple actually made their way over to him, but left after they heard him talk.
Merik was picked up and taken away by that same couple not five minutes later.
He shrugged, used to the occurrence, and left as soon as he could get away, walking over to Miles' house, keeping an eye out for that odd car that seemed to be following him everywhere.
"Sam! C'mon in! I just got this new video game and..."
Sam just smiled and nodded, not really understanding his friend's explanation (which used a lot of terms like 'adaption', 'MPRPG', 'Grid system' and other odd terms...), but happy to be with him anyways.
"Mom's making us lunch, and you're eating it, by the way. She'll throw a fit if you don't."
"Yeah... yeah. If you had to eat that crap... West Witch gives us... you'd be skinny too."
He brushed a piece of long dark hair out of his face, grimacing at the memory.
"It's just... eww."
Miles giggled and dragged him upstairs.
"C;mon, c'mon! I've been waiting to play it till you got here!"
Sam passed by Miles' window, glancing out cautiously.
"It's there again!" he hissed, pulling Miles to a stop on the landing, pointing out the window at the seemingly innocent silver Pontiac Solstice parked across the street.
"That car! It's been... following me since yesterday!"
"You sure?"
Miles was uncharacteristically serious.
"Dude, if it's been following you... that's just creepy."
Sam grinned a crazy grin and jogged back downstairs, dragging Miles along with him.
"Dude? What the hell are you doing!"
"Now... is the perfect time to confront him. If... he tries anything, within two seconds I can have a... horde of angry parents with one yell of... the word 'Rape'."
"This is a really bad idea, dude. Reeeally bad."
Sam just laughed, a manic, hoarse sound that sent chills down his friends' spine. He stopped right next to the driver side window, doll in one and, and knocked.
"Hello! Anyone... home?"
"Dammit, Sam! You're gonna get us killed!"
Miles was pulled behind his friend, yelping at the sudden movement.
"What was that for?"
"Well, now... if he has a gun... you won't get shot!"
"That's not making me feel any better!"
They were interrupted by the window rolling down, revealing a tall, deeply tanned man with black, shoulder length hair, white streaks running through it, grinning sheepishly.
"Uh, hi?"
"Hello... stranger!"
The man in the car looked at him oddly, as all people did when they heard his voice, but Sam was more focused on the fact that the edges of the guy looked... fuzzy?
"Why're you... following me?"
"Oh- uh- ya- ya noticed?"
"Yes. Yes... I did."
The other man rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed.
"M' name is Jazz. I didn' mean t' creep ya out or anythin'."
"Oh?"
Sam raised an eyebrow, foot tapping impatiently.
"Just... what do you want?"
"Well, ya see, m'... uncle likes collectin' antiques and stuff, an' his birthday's comin' up soon an' I really had no idea what t' get him, but I was pickin' up one of m' cousins up for lunch yesterday an' I saw those glasses, so I asked him about you, an' was wonderin' if you'd be willin' t' sell them t' me?"
Miles grinned, slinking out from behind Sam.
"See! He's not a stalker or anything, don't know why you were freaking out about coming out here-"
He yelped as Sam yanked him back to his previous position.
"Dude, what the-"
"Close... but not the right answer."
Jazz looked at him, confused.
"Wha?"
Sam glared at him
"So close... If you had said your cousin was a girl and it was... your grandma looking for antiques, I might... have believed you."
The autobot tilted his head to the side, clearly not understanding.
"I've... hacked into the school computers. There isn't a single guy who has a relative named Jazz. Plus, the chick... who does have a cousin named Jazz? She was.. at lunch yesterday and her cousin's dad passed away three years ago. You're lying."
Miles gulped, peeking out from behind Sam.
"So... Mr. Jazz Stalker, what do you really want?"
Questions, comments, critisizm, flames, just a little message saying, "Hey, you're an actual person!"... Doesn't really matter to me.