You're Not A Transformer
Chapter 3
"Breaking News! Ever since the last battle fought between the popular alien robots, the Transformers, many have questioned their disappearance. We just may have answers over in our calmer Illinois neighbor, Missouri. Late last night, Bakersfield's backstreets experienced a large enough force to create massive craters approximately thirty meters in diameter and rip exterior walls of buildings There were few witnesses in the area at the time of action, claiming that what they saw were, in fact, the Transformers. The status of friend or foe remains unclear. Government officials have yet to react to this unlikely incident."
Click.
"Damn robots."
That was the fourth news station this week to have broadcasted the tragedy in Missouri. And the thousandth person to have tagged me in the videos on Facebook (Okay, I watched all of them on the way home anyway, but that's not important). This wasn't the first sighting of a Transformer accident. The witnesses claimed to have seen them in the night, stalking buildings and smashing people with their gigantic metal claws. Though no evidence has been found of it.
I tried to ignore the fact that the robots were nearing Arkansas. The little messes that they left behind just kept heading south, and I was secretly waiting for Riverside High to show up on the television demolished into nothing. That would be something. But all the victimized buildings seemed to be of low-quality and in low-lying areas. They weren't trying to get caught, that was for sure.
The Transformers weren't very important to me, though. Not in my life. The people that were damned enough to be "chosen" by those monstrous robots were fortunate enough to have their lives torn apart. I was lucky to have a semi-regular life. The Degree Four Life.
Today was the day I was supposed to receive my leg. Well, sort of. The nurse had promised me less than a week, and it was already Friday. He was late. I thought for a while that maybe he was exaggerating a little a bit, but my mother reassured me that it would be here "in the blink of an eye."
I blinked. Nothing.
For now, while I waited impatiently on the bus ride home, I had a...this thing...the thing with Martin this day. He wanted to show me "the guy who changed everything for soccer amputees." I wasn't really prepared for what he was about to show me, but I had a feeling he was either trying to raise my spirits about the board's decision or was encouraging me to look past it.
Or maybe he was just trying to be friendly. Mom claimed that he had taken an interest and was subtly asking me out, but if that was the case, I think a foreign guy would have eventually said something. Weren't outsiders usually more romantic?
As soon as I stepped off the steps of the rusted, yellow vehicle, my mother greeted me with a smile and a knee-length pale orange dress. I frowned and took a deep breath to acclimate to what was about to happen.
"So...how was school?"
I kept my gaze steady on the garden around us. "Okay, but I have a feeling that you don't care." She didn't. Her words were quick and her eyes were wide as if she had been standing outside the house all day.
"Of course I care, Honey. It's just, this is your first date since seventh grade Johnny Camsy, and, well..."
I rolled my eyes and pushed past her, throwing my backpack onto the couch. Did she really have to bring up Johnny Camsy? Again, a story for another time. "This isn't a date, Mom. We're going to talk soccer. That's all."
"You're right. You're right. But...just in case-" She held out the dress in front of her with a mischievous smile returning. "My job as a mother is to prepare you for these things."
I could see already that I would not escape this no matter what I said. Objection was not a choice.
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When the yellow Camaro pulled up into our driveway (my father thankfully not home yet), my mother practically shoved me and her dress of preference out the door. I was able to convince her of plain red converse and a simple ponytail with a few simple curls swirled in my blonde hair. She cringed, but "accepted", only after complaining about how I was "too bleak" and stuck a makeup kit in my face.
As I hurried out of the house, I washed my face with a rag I managed to slip from the kitchen. My mother waved to Martin as he stepped out of the car and opened up my door like a gentleman. My face flushed as I hid the towellete in my hands, neglecting my mother's curfew wails. I could only imagine the questions from her that would keep me awake that night.
"Are you all right?" A warm laugh came from the driver's seat as Martin revved up the engine. "You're mother seems like a nice lady."
Oh, if only.
My laugh was as small as fly's, only loud enough to acknowledge his words. I turned towards my window and finished up the last of the eye shadow. That was a mistake. When I glanced into the side-door mirror, my face looked like that of a clown's. Maybe if I kept my face hidden for the ride, I could sneak off to the bathroom and do a more thorough cleaning. For now, I would have to avoid eye contact.
"Tha's a nice dress. Perfect for the evening."
I swallowed a knot in my throat. How would this work? "Th-Thank you." What else was I to say?
The rest of the car ride consisted of him attempting to make small talk as I either nodded or made a minor joke to keep up his spirits. But regardless of his smile, I knew this was lame. Not the conversation itself, but him bringing me at all. It was doomed to become some disaster.
For a while, I had turned my head towards him to at least make it seem like I was listening, though I kept my head down. Doing so, I saw behind the seat a laptop peeking behind his back seat. It looked oddly like mine, but why or how could he have stolen my laptop? Now I was just being ridiculous. But I could not deny the strange sticky mark where my sticker was on my own.
Applebees. He had taken me to Applebees. I mean, it wasn't so awfully terrible, but I felt like I overdressed, especially my face. Not to mention my short dress easily revealed the prosthetic beneath me.
He insisted on opening up the door for me, bounding from his seat and hurrying over to my side. I beat him to it, averting my eyes to the left so that he could not see the twister upon me.
"Two, please," he said to the waitress. I could practically hear his grin. What was he so happy about?
"I'm, uh...I'm going to head off to the bathroom." I glanced quickly at him then towards the giant sign hanging above a hallway that said "RESTROOM". Before he could say anything else, I paced myself that way, trying not to make too big of a scene.
Okay, I admit, I overreacted a little bit. The mascara had come off with ease, and the beige eye shadow was hardly noticeable. It was only the eye liner and lip gloss that made a sparkly mess. It was washed off with a few simple handfuls of water.
I checked my phone unconsciously. It was five.
Patting down my hair, I walked out with more confidence. Martin sat at a booth, his back to me, crunching his knuckles nervously. I settled down across from him with a reassuring smile, almost apologetic for my previous behavior.
"Um, I know I've asked you this probably a million times already...But, uh...are you all right?" His smiled had dissipated every so slightly and his eyebrows hung limply above his eyes without clue.
"Yeah. Yes, totally. I'm good. Never been better," I blurted out with an innocent tug of my lips. I begged inwardly that he would just forget it and move on. Somehow, I had no doubt that he would. "So, um..." I searched desperately for something to say. "'Guy who changed it all.' Who's that?"
Martin grinned, pointing to a television at the bar. "When I 'eard they were going to be doin' an interview on this guy, I immediately thought of you. You see, his name is Nico Calabria. Been famous since 'e was only thirteen. Go on, listen to it."
A boy who looked to be Martin's age was in front of the camera, a microphone practically shoved down his throat. The interview was not voiced, rather displayed to show he was a popular specimen. I read the lines that showed what the biographer was saying. "Massachusetts High School Soccer Player Nico Calabria has been widely known around the world for his advance excellence in sports, even with the huge obstacle of his missing right hip and leg. 'My disability doesn't define who I am," Calabria explains. ' My disability gives me a challenge everyday that I need to overcome and I think that challenge has made me a strong-'"
The channel flickered violently, and was interrupted by an announcement from other news stations. In bold letters, the title read "TRANSFORMER SPOTTED IN ARKANSAS." Above this, a video played from a witnesses' phone of two monster bots battling each other in...Wait, I knew that place. It was behind the big Toys-R-Us factory up in the north-eastern part of Arkansas. A good three hours away, thankfully, but this was getting scarier and scarier. What were they doing here? Couldn't they go back to Chicago and wreck up that city again?
"Wha' a bunch of rubbish," Martin muttered from in front of me. He returned to his sprite, flicking the straw around a few times and shaking his head. For a minute, I mistook this for a disposition on the robots. "They interrupt the sports channel for this. I'm sorry, maybe another time. I've got some documentaries saved back at my apartment if you're ever interested. I'm here for the rest of the season."
That shook me out of my Transformer Trance. "The rest of the season?" I was suddenly disappointed.
"Yeah. I needed an extra job aside from my online college classes and my soccer team. My cousin lives here, so I thought I might check this place out." He could sense my sadness as I munched on a chip from the appetizer we had ordered together. "But, I will be back next fall. This place is pretty amazing," he mumbled with two chips stuffed into his mouth,Don't miss me too much." He gave me a toothy grin and I couldn't help but smile.
After another half-hour of listening to him ramble on about whatever over in his home-country, which happened to be England, he paid for the bill (which my mother warned me not to object to) and we were out the door.
"Listen, I apologize about the night. I really wanted you to see-"
"No, no, it's all right. I loved it. I have to tell you," I continued, hopping into the car (it must have been nicer than I thought: the doors popped open by just the click of his keys!), "I thought tonight was going to be a disaster. I'm not...I'm not good at these things."
He stared at me with an admiration I had not seen in a long time. "You were great."
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Like earlier today, my mother jumped out of the door as the car pulled up to the curb. Only, instead of a dress, she held a long box. My mouth gaped and I nearly dropped my phone.
"I-It's here? That's it?"
She nodded.
I dashed through the yard (or as much as I could) and was already sitting on the couch, waiting for Mom to tear open the package. Yeah, I was a little more excited than I would have proven the day the proposal came to be. I was always excited for these things, even with the chances of failure. There was something in that nurses' voice, something that made me do more than want to believe him.
The same nurse stepped in from a week ago, apologizing about the long wait (too many apologies) and kneeling down in front of me. As he opened the box, I looked at my mom who held my shoulder from behind the couch, and Martin who had just decided he wanted to see too.
That made me nervous.
The leg included no straps and was as real as could be. The nurse only put it up to my stump after injecting a numbing shot, and, voila, there it was. Limp and heavy, like it didn't want to be there. He explained to me some highly certified doctor stuff which I could never follow, but Mom seemed to understand. He handed me a vat of pills he said was very urgent I take today and tomorrow.
And just like that, I had a new leg. I was whole again. How it made sense, I had no idea. But I didn't care very much. I could start walking as soon as I was ready, and boy was I ready. Though he said it would take time before I could fully rejuvenate myself with this new piece of me.
With the help of Mom and the nurse, I gripped their shoulders tighter and tighter every time I stepped down onto the new feeling. My whole leg was still a bit numb from the medicine, so it would be a few hours before I could do some real movement. I stared at Martin as he stared at me, a mutual thought floating in the air.
When the nurse left, giving his regards, Martin grinned and turned to my mother. "I - uh, I know it's kind of late." He was sucking up now. It was only seven. "But...I think both Olivia and I would like to-"
"Go ahead." Mom pursed her lips with a slight upward curve to them.
I gripped her unyieldingly around the shoulders, pecked her on the cheek, and followed Martin out to his car. "I can't believe this! I...I can walk - I can - I don't have to use that damned metal again!" I cheered aloud, pumping the air and climbing into the front seat of the Camaro. This was going to be a good year, I could already tell. It had to be, or else.
"You know what I'm going to have to do know, right?" He expected me to be surprised at what came next, but I was already past that. "We'll meet with them Monday, yeah? The Council will be happy to view this new discovery."
The both of us sat flat against our seats, staring outside with grins far from falter. This had to be a dream. It was a dream. A dream come true.
In silence, we were off to the unspoken yet clear destination. The Fields. The only other place I would want to be to celebrate.
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"Hold on. D'you mind if I swing by my apartment? It's literally right down the road."
I nodded, hardly processing his words.
It was a large, open complex with individual houses lined in about five sections per intersection. A really nice neighborhood, I might say so. It was only natural for me to assume that he was rooming with his cousin. "Just a moment," he smiled, holding his finger before sliding out of the seat. I watched as he ignored the open car door and jogged up the concrete steps, then disappear into the dark hole of his house.
He left the single key in the ignition, so I decided to fiddle around with the radio until a song I recognized popped through the speakers. It was an oldie, but I hummed along to what I knew.
Throughout the song, clicks and beeps sounded in odd placements. It was true, I hadn't listened to it in a long while, but no song was crazy enough to put random effects in it like there was. When it became louder, I turned the volume down and found that it was not the song at all. It was the laptop in the back I had noticed early. Funny, my laptop made the same sound when I received an email. But never when it was closed.
And, as if the stereo had responded, a beeping sounded at the exact time the laptop's beep became apparent.
I acted as if that was the weirdest part. As soon as I turned off the car to hopefully rid of the pestering noise, it kept going. The radio was lit up and still ran. The car jerked backwards no sooner than I switched the volume off completely. I clung to my seat praying that this whole thing had been a dream, taking in deep breaths to keep calm.
What the hell was going on?
I didn't know what to do as it took off down the road. I tried to roll down the windows or open up the car door to dive into the grass, but the possessed vehicle had locked them and was dangerously increasing speed. I would never survive the jump.
Then the thought hit me. A terrifying thought. The bold letters stood out more than ever now. "TRANSFORMERS SPOTTED IN ARKANSAS."
"Shit," I mumbled, frantically searching for a way out. I never took a good enough look at the aliens in the videos. I should've know. The News was constantly showing recent pictures of them to warn us if they were in the area. "What do you want?" I kicked and screamed, pounding the radio as if it would give me answers. I knew this thing could talk somehow. The television was no stranger to me.
"Aye, quit it. You're hurting 'im." When I turned to see who had spoken, a small ugly robot stood in the backseat, wires sparking as he moved. I bit my lip as I realized that was the laptop. "Now quit squirming around."
My whole body flinched as it jumped into the driver's seat, looking me up and down with curiosity. Without further instruction, it rolled out of the seat and down to where my feet were, picking at both of them. It pinched at the new leg I had received, which was slowly coming more to life. "What - What is this?" It poked more at it, attempting to pull it apart. I could feel it then; a slight nerve pick up that made me kick, though it did very little.
"Bumblebee, are you seeing this?" A red laser emitted from the radio that scanned my body, landing on my leg.
The laser disappeared and the speed meter increased about ten miles an hour.
What the hell?
"What? Why am I here? Wh-Who are you?"
The little robot hopped onto my lap, clenching my chin with a rough jerk. "She's clueless. But you humans are experienced liars, ain't ya? Hold that thought." A seatbelt snapped over me and we came to an abrupt stop as the driver's side door popped open. A similar, thinner, darker blue robot joined us, looking me up and down as well. "Wheelie!" the laptop exclaimed. "Glad you could finally join us."
The bot, Wheelie, did not answer him. It, or he, rather, surveyed me from all around, rubbing it's chin - or whatever it was, as if it - he had facial hair. "Do you know who we are?" it - he snapped, leaping into my face as well. I shook my head, pulling my knees up to my face so that he would back off. "We're the Autobots. Y'know, the Transformers. We're all over the news! C'mon, your brother talks about them all the time!"
Laptop spoke up, pulling it - him backwards by the...arm...thing, "Yeah, yeah, she knows. Listen here, Girl." He pointed his robot finger at me. "That thing on your leg, it ain't normal. That's...that's Decepticon stuff."
Decepticon? What the hell was a Decepticon?
"Bumblebee, how far are we?"
Before the Camaro could say anything, I interfered, "Wait, wait, wait, where are you taking me? You can't just barge in like that and take whoever is in your path!" I sat up very quickly, which, for once, made them back away the slightest.
"Ooh, wow now, lady. This is some serious shit we're gettin' into," Wheelie said. "You can't just walk around with a Decepticon on you! That's crazy talk! Just sit back and relax. Bee's got everything in control."
"Bee? Who's-"
The radio started up. "Almost there." It was odd sounding, though none of these robots voices sounded normal. I expected them to be more...I don't know, roboty.
My seatbelt tightened around me, and I gripped it like it was the only thing keeping me from insanity. This was not going to be such a good year. If I even made it past today.
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Just a side note, updates will not always be this quick. This story started out on another website and I decided to catch up over here since I've been slow with writing lately (slow, as in, not writing at all). I will try to update every week since I have put my other stories on hold. I have high hopes for this one!
Thank you for all of the reviews! I love to see that people are interested. That's exactly why I am here: to give you a good story, and hopefully one you haven't see yet. If you see anything that doesn't seem right, please let me know. This is my first Transformers Fanfiction and I don't know all the inns and outs quite yet.
Thank you all again!
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