Here's a new chapter, hope you guys like it!

Ƈнαρтєя Ƭняєє: Ƴσυ Aяє Ƭнє Ɓσу Ƒяσм Mу Ɗяєαм
"Ɠяανιтαтιση ιѕ ησт яєѕρσηѕιвƖє fσя ρєσρƖє fαƖƖιηg ιη Ɩσνє." - AƖвєят Ɛιηѕтєιη

Ƈнαρтєя Sσηg: Ɓαcкѕєαт Sєяєηαɗє - AƖƖ Ƭιмє Lσω
"Lazy lover find a place for me again.
You felt it once before, I know you did.
I could see it.
Whiskey Princess drink me under, pull me in
You had me at come over boy, I need a friend.
I understand.
Backseat serenade dizzy hurricane.
Oh god, I'm sick of sleeping alone.
You're salty like a summer day, kiss the sweat away,
to your radio.
Backseat serenade little hand grenade.
Oh god, I'm sick of sleeping alone
You're salty like a summer day, kiss the pain away,
to your radio.
You take me over I throw you up against the wall.
We've seen it all before, but this one's different.
It's deliberate.
You send me reeling calling out to you for more.
The value of this moment lives in metaphor.
Yeah, through it all.
Backseat serenade dizzy hurricane
Oh god, I'm sick of sleeping alone.
You're salty like a summer day, kiss the sweat away,
to your radio.
Backseat serenade little hand grenade.
Oh god, I'm sick of sleeping alone
You're salty like a summer day, kiss the pain away
to your radio.
Backseat serenade dizzy hurricane.
Oh god, I'm sick of sleeping alone
You're salty like a summer day, kiss the sweat away,
to your radio.
Backseat serenade little hand grenade
Oh, aren't you sick of sleeping alone?
We're salty on a summer day, kiss the pain away,
to your radio.
(Oh god I'm sick of sleeping alone)"

It was around midnight when everyone was asleep - or I hoped they were, and I decided to confirm my suspicions about mine and my twin's new car. I was in my pajamas, which was a plain gray and white baseball style type of t-shirt, with gray and white stripped shorts. Gently moving Weasley from my side, I went downstairs, trying to wake anyone.

I stepped into the garage where the cars were parked. I stopped in front of the yellow Camaro - or was it really Bumblebee?

"Okay, I'm probably going to sound crazy talking to a car," I say, in a hushed tone, "but are you really Bumblebee, the guy from the dream, or am I going crazy and everything that happened today not real?"

When I heard nothing respond, I sighed, running my fingers through my hair. "Great. I was going crazy."

That's when there was a flash of light, and the boy from my dream - Bumblebee - appeared in the seat of the Camaro. He chuckled, getting out of the car. "You're not going crazy." I smile, staring at Bumblebee, taking in every inch of his appearance. "And if you don't believe me," he stepped forward, grabbing my hands, and intertwining them with his. I felt the warmth between my fingertips - his warmth - that made my stomach erupt into butterflies.

I let go a sigh of relief. "Y-you are real." I let go of his hand, sliding my fingers into his hair, as he nuzzled his head into my hand. I giggle, messing around with his hair. "What are you?"

"I can't tell you."

"Why are you here?"

"I can't tell you that either, just yet."

"Then what can you tell me?"

He grins shyly, before looking at me. "I can tell you that you're beautiful."

A blush spreads across my checks, as I lightly shove his shoulder. "Shut up, Bee."

He laughs. "But it's true though," he brushes a few strands of hair from my face. He was so sweet. "You are beautiful."

I stare into his bright blue eyes for a few moments, getting lost into them. "So if you can't tell me what you are, or why you're here, then what can we talk about?"

"Anything you want." he says, as I sit down on the Camaro, and he joined me. "I actually want to talk about you."

"Well," I bit my lip, "what do you want to know about me?"

Bumblebee grins. "What's your favorite color?"

"Green." I answers. "And I'm guessing yours is black and yellow?"

He laughs. "How did you know? Anyways, what's your middle name?"

"Hazel."

"Bethany Hazel Witwicky?"

"Don't call me Bethany." I say. "It sounds... girly."

Bee chuckles. "But you are a girl."

I playfully slap his shoulder. "I know that, dork, it's just I don't like my first name, so I like being called Bennie. Or Ben."

"Bennie or Ben?" he repeats, then shrugs. "Still sounds beautiful. Okay, what do you like to do?"

"I actually draw in my spare time." I tell him.

"Can I see a few drawings?"

Smiling, I nod. "Sure, just be quiet. You don't want to wake up my parents. Or Sam for that matter."

I take his hand, leading him from the garage into the house, up the stairs, and quietly past my parents and Sam's room to my room. I close the door behind us, and turn on a string of lights over my desk, where a few sketches were.

Bee walked over to them, tracing his fingers over the notebook. He picked up the sketch of Stitch from Lilo and Stitch and smiled. He then looked at my Pikachu drawing, and sketch of Weasley, who was still asleep on my bed.

"These are really great." he says, looking over at me. "You're really talented, Bennie."

The sounds of Sam snoring brought me out of my little moment, staring at Bee. I mentally want to hit Sam, but that would mean waking him up, and asking why a very attractive person is in my room.

"You should go, before Sam gets up for something." I say.

"Okay." he walks towards the door where I was stand, and wraps his strong arms around me, pulling me into a hug, causing butterflies to fly all around in my stomach once more. I wrap my arms around him as well. "I'll see you later."

"Bye Bee." I smile, before he walks out of my room, and down the stairs, towards the garage. I sigh, after closing the door, leaning against it. He was literally one of the sweetest people I've ever met.

I walked over to my bed, laying down, and falling asleep.

xxXxx

When I woke up the next day, I put on a pair of shorts, a blue tank top that said NEW YORK, worn out sneakers, and put my hair in a pony-tail.

"Where are you going in those clothes?" Dad asks, in a protective tone.

I roll my eyes, "I'm going to wash the car. Since I know Sam won't."

My twin, sitting on the couch, turned around and stuck his tongue out at me. I grab a Sunny D from the fridge, and an apple from the bowl sitting on the island.

"Dad, where's all the equipment for washing the car?" I question, taking a bite out of my apple.

"In the garage." he replies. "Could you wash mine as well- actually no, Sam, you get to wash my car."

Sam groans. "Fine, I'll do later, after Ben's done."

I grin, now knowing that my twin also has to suffer with washing a car. But at least Bee and I were sort of alone. "Thanks dad!" I throw away my now empty juice and apple core, running into the garage, closing the door behind me.

"Bee?" I whisper, hoping no one from inside heard me. "I'm going to give you a bath. Hope you don't mind." I open the garage door, grabbing a bucket, large sponge, and soap. "Back up a bit." He does, backing up out of the garage. I filled the bucket up with water, and sprayed the car down.

I pour some soap into the bucket, mix it up with the sponge, and start to wash down the car. Underneath the sponge, I felt the car start to purr. Literally purr. I giggle, "Guess you haven't had a bath in a while, huh, Bee?" I cleaned everywhere I could, and when I was finished, I was completely soaked and my fingers were chapped.

Using my hand, I wiped my brow. "Well, that's all I can do for now, Bee."

"Thank you, thank you very much~" Elvis Presley's voice rang through the car. I laughed, patting the car's hood.

"No problem Bee." I smile, dumping the remaining water in the bucket into the grass. "Drive up into the garage for me?"

Bumblebee drives forward, as I put the bucket and cleaning tools I used back in the places I found them. I took one last look at the car, patting it's hood, before walking upstairs into the shower. I cleaned off all the soap and dirty water from my skin, before changing into a pair of dark jeans that were ripped at the knee and the top of my thigh, a black tank top, and a green sleeveless sort of covering.

Apparently there was some party Sam wanted to go to, but I think he just really wanted to show off his car.

"C'mon on Mojo, you want your pain pill?" I peer into Sam's room, to see him walking to his mirror, attempting to pop a pimple. I lean against the doorway, a smirk on my face. He attempts to practice his lady talk in front of the mirror, until I burst out laughing. "Jesus Bethany!" he exclaims, as I laugh. "You can't do that."

"Hey, I'm not the one talking into a mirror." I retort, crossing my arms.

My twin rolls his eyes. "Oh, like you don't talk in front of your mirror."

"You're right I don't, because I'm not the one attempting to impress girls with my Camaro."

"Our Camaro!" he corrects, walking over to the chihuahua, taking a pill out a little bottle. "You're going to get wasted on these things. If you piss in my bed again, you're sleeping outside, okay." he feds the dog the pill. "That's it for today. No more. Crackhead."

"Our poor dog is now a crackhead," I fake gasped. "What has society come too?"

"Let's go, Bennie." Sam says, grabbing the car keys. "We've got a party to go to."

I shake my head. "It's not really a party if we're not invited little bro."

He ignores me, as we walk downstairs towards the car. I notice Dad trying to put in a stone path, while Mom held some flowers.

"Ron, this one is uneven!" Mom complains, stepping on the said stone.

"Yeah," my Dad replies, not paying attention. "Probably."

"This one is wobbly!"

"Yeah, I'll take care of that."

"Oh, couldn't we have hired a professional?" Mom questions, as I skip onto the stones, swerving past her, and towards the Camaro, while my brother completely ignores the path, and walks onto the grass.

Dad sighed, throwing down his tool, "Sam, I do not like footprints on my grass."

"What footprints?" my twin looks behind him looking for said footprints. "There's no footprints."

"That's why I built my path. So why don't you go from my grass to my path." Dad responds.

"That's family grass dad!" Sam exclaims, moving over towards the path.

"Yeah, well, when you own your own grass, you'll understand."

I shake my head. "What is it with dad's and gardening?"

"I heard that young lady!"

"Hey, at least I used the path." I say, smirking, while walking over to the Camaro. I opened the door, sliding into the car. "Hey Bee."

"Hello, beautiful," the radio replies, and I smile.

"I want you two home at eleven o'clock!" Mom says, just as Sam enters the car.

I nod, looking out the window. "Sure!"

"Eleven!" Dad repeats, just as Sam starts the car.

"And for the love of god, drive safely!" Mom adds, before we drive off.