AN: So I've been working on this chapter A REALLY LONG TIME and I'm so sorry for leaving you guys hanging for so long. BUT... now I'm back! Yeah... soooo...

REVIEW PLEASE! :)

So that night when Sam and I got home in our- uh... his new car, I went up to my room to do some serious unpacking.

When I got done, I decided to listen to some music.

I had brought my iHome speaker, and I figured if I put the volume on low, nobody would even hear anything.

Boy was I mistaken.

Like, big time.

So, what had happened was... I put my iPod in the little slot at the top and turned it on shuffle. After I listened to a few slow songs, humming along to them, a fast one finally came on. It was 'Lala Land' by Demi Lovato. Yeah, I like Disney music! Ya got a problem with it? No? Good!

Anyway, I started dancing around my temporary bedroom and after a little while, I... kinda... maybe... started singing along.

Like... really, really loud.

So loud that Sam heard it in his room, which acutally isn't really that bad since our rooms are right across from eachother.

Anyway, while I was attempting to do the moon walk, key word being 'attempting', and singing into my old hairbrush, I turned around to see Sam standing in the doorway grinning at me.

Needless to say, my room is never the neatest thing, so I had a pair of shoes laying in the middle of the floor.

I tripped on them.

Yep... fell right on my butt.

It didn't hurt or anything, but I tell ya my face turned a thousand different shades of red when my cousin started laughing.

"Stop laughing!" I pouted, my face getting even darker.

"Havin' fun?" he asked between chuckles.

"I was... until you showed up. Wha'd'ya want?" I snapped.

He held his hands up in surrender. "Just wanted to tell my little cousin goodnight." he smirked.

I raised an eyebrow in suspicion. "You heard me singing, didn't you?" I asked.

He smiled. "Maybe. If it helps, ya have a pretty good voice." he said.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, right." I muttered under my breath. "I'll turn the music down."

He laughed. "Thanks." he said, and turned to leave.

"Sam!" I called his name when he'd made it into the hall. I knew what I was gonna say would be pretty awkward, but I felt like I needed to say it anyway.

He came walking back in my room with a casual expression on his face. Well... casual for Sam.

"G'night." I said, smiling.

He returned my smile and walked over to me. "Night, Jace."

He gave me another, very weird, one arm hug, before leaving.

"Same old Sammy." I mumbled, and then walked into the bathroom to take a shower and get ready for bed.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Late that night, I was startled awake by none other than Sam. He came running out of his room, banging on my door.

"What the fuck, Sam? You're gonna wake up-" I started drousily, but he cut me off with his little freak out.

"NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO! JACE!" He yelled as he ran down the hall.

"WHAT!?" I yelled back. He was freaking me out, and I wanted to know what the heck was going on.

"The car!" he yelled, as he practically jumped down the stairs.

I knew instantly what he was talking about. Someone was steeling the Comaro.

I jumped up and snatched my grey ACDC hoodie from the closet, quickly forcing it over my head. I didn't have time to put on normal shoes, even though I was already wearing socks, so I snatched on my black UGGs and headed for the door. Little black polka-dotted sleeping shorts and all.

When I got outside, I noticed Sam hauling Judy's old pink bike toward the road, where he jumped on.

I knew I needed to follow him, but I couldn't even ride a bike, so I frantically grabbed up his old skateboard and ran in the direction of the street with it.

Once I got to the sidewalk, I slammed it down on the cement and gave a big push with my right leg to get going.

Forcing myself to catch up with Sam, I heard him talking on the phone with, what I assumed to be, the police. And he sounded like he was trying to get them to call the frickin' SWAT team out here.

"My car's been stolen! Alright? I am in persuit! I need all the units! The whole squadren! Alright? Bring everyone!"

There was a short pause.

"No, don't ask me questions! My father's the head of the neighborhood watch!"

That's where I would've laughed... if I could frickin' breathe!

But whatever, I'll complain about my respiratory problems later.

We followed the car to the old junkyard, where we hid behind some garbage as it drove to a clearing.

And then you'll never believe what happened next! I mean you won't believe this crazy shit!

The car TRANSFORMED! I mean it changed into a flippin' robot! Yeah, you heard right! A ROBOT! It was big, and yellow, and all adorable looking!

I mean, honestly, it was the cutest thing I've ever seen!

Anyway, the robot/Comara shot a bright light ray into the sky. We just stared at it in awe for what felt like forever.

The light at the end of the beam formed a symbol that looked like... heh. That's funny. It kinda looked like the robot face I saw on the-

Oh shit. IT WAS EXACTLY LIKE THE ROBOT FACE I SAW ON THE STEERING WHEEL!

What the fuck was this thing?

Then Sam pulled out his phone and started making a video.

"My name is Sam Witwicky. This is my cousin, Jace Witwicky."

He turned the camera to face me, but I just winced at the light hte phone was producing.

He turned it back to face him, and then started talking again.

"Whoever finds this, my car is alive."

He turned it to the robocar and then back to him.

"Okay, you saw that? These are my last words on earth. I just wanna say mom, dad, I love you. And if you find 'Busty Beauties' under my bed, it's not mine. I'm saving it for Miles!"

He paused for half a second and I raised a brow at his claims.

"Woah, woah. Wait. Okay, that's not true! It's mine and Uncle Charles gave it to me. I'm sorry. Mojo, I love you!"

He closed the phone, and I glared at him.

"How come I don't get any last words?" I snapped.

He ignored my complaint and grabbed my arm to drag me toward our robocar.

"What? No! Why are we going toward it?" I panicked.

"We need to find out what it is!" he snapped in a whisper.

I nodded and we tiptoed forward.

Suddenly, two hellhounds charged at us. Immediatly running in the opposite direction, Sam began to scream. I ran beside him, but remained quiet, however. I tend to do that when I'm scared. I'll freeze up and start to panic. And right now, I was terrified.

"GOOD DOG! GOOD DOG! GOOD DOG!" Sam yelled repeatedly as we stumbled into a silo thingy.

I ran to the corner of the structure and managed to sheild myself with some barrels. I looked up and noticed that my cousin was standing on a couple boxes in the middle of the silo, and one of the muts were jumping at him.

I wanted to help him, but I had my own problems. Cerberus was over here trying to poke his snarling head through the hole in the worn-out barrel I was using, and I knew that if I waited much longer, it might turn out like the movie 'Cujo'.

But before either of us became the pooches' dinner, the Comaro slammed through the weak wall of the structure, scaring the canines away.

I stood up shakily, and tried to compose myself. I was trembling and I had a cut on my cheek from the rusty barrel.

My eyes widened.

Shit. Rusty. Tetnis.

Before I could break down, however, Sam rushed over and roughly grabbed my wrist. On our way out of the silo, he threw the keys at the Comaro, yelling something along the lines of 'You can keep 'em. Car's yours'. I wasn't paying attention anyway. My cheek was bleeding and now blood was dripping down my face.

Frantically, not wanting Sam to see that I was injured, I pressed the cuff of my hoodie to the cut to try and stop the bleeding.

I didn't know if it would work, but I held it there as long as I could, too frightened to remove it.

When we got outside, the cops pulled up. My heart lifted as I expected them to sort this whole thing out, but nooooo. They decided to arrest us! For tresspassing! Can you believe it?

I had to take my hand off my face to let them snap the handcuffs on me, which I didn't think was necessary, but I made sure to try and wipe at the blood as I brought it away.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

We sat at the police station for what felt like hours, trying to explain to the kind officers what happened. Note that I use the term 'kind' very lightly. They had called Uncle Ron, and as pissed off as he was at us, I could tell he was even more irritated at the officer.

"I can't be any clearer than how crystal clear I'm being." Sam snapped. "It just stood up."

The officer rolled his eyes. "Just stood up? Wow. That's really neat."

He grabbed a small plastic container and held it out for Sam and then did the same to me.

"Okay, time to fill 'er up. And no drippy drippy." he said.

"You gotta be kidding me." I muttered.

The man looked at Sam. "What're you rollin'? Wippits? Goofballs? A little wowy sauce with the boys?" he began to name off slang terms for narcodics.

"No, we're not on any drugs." Sam tried to convince him.

"Then what're these?" he asked as the other dude threw him a bottle of pills.

WHAT THE FUCK, SAM? I thought angrily.

"Found it in your pocket... 'Mojo'. Is that was kids are doin' these days? A little bit of mojo?" Sergeant Stupid asked, shaking the pill bottle around.

All of a sudden, my eyes widened and I sighed in relief. So the pills were his dog's.

And, as if he read my mind, Sam spoke up. "Those are my dog's pain pills."

"Little chiuauah..." Ron finally tried to offer some backup, as he made hand gestures to represent the size of the little rat puppy.

I just sat quietly, and watched as the officer grinned stupidly at my cousin.

"What was that? You eyeballin' my piece, Fiddy Cent?" he asked dumbly.

Sam looked at him, probably thinking the same thing as me: You're a frickin' fruitcake, dude!

"Huh?" Sam mumbled.

"Oh, make somethin' happen. Do it! Cuz I promise you, I will bust you up!"

He was now only inches from my cousin's face.

Sam looked totally weirded out for a few seconds, but then he spoke up. And I swear I almost died laughing from his next sentence.

He leaned back enough to, presumably, get the man's nasty breath out of his airways, and looked the guy in the eye.

Then he asked "Are you on drugs?"

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

If I even need to confirm it, we got off the hook.

Yeeeaah... apparently a certain officer "did a bad job at interrigating us" because right after my cousin's little comment, the guy's partner just sighed and told us we were free to go.

Anyway, we got back early in the morning, went to bed, and well... here we are.

I guess Ron and Judy had to run some errands or whatever, and when I woke up, they had already left.

So I rolled (yeah, literally rolled) out of bed, and went to the bathroom.

What? I have to pee when I wake up! Sue me.

When I got in my restroom, however, I never got around to peeing. I was too worried about the swollen, pink gash I had on my cheek.

My eyes went as wide as dinner plates, and I knew if I told Sam he'd just freak out, so I rummaged around in the cabinets until I found a bottle of Peroxide.

Leaning as far over the sink as I could, I dunked it on my face, making sure to cover my eyes with the free hand.

Well... like I thought... it burned like hell.

I bit down on my tongue, almost drawing blood, to keep myself from screaming.

I managed to wipe away the excess and put a large bandage on the elasceration with only a few pained whimpers.

Making sure it didn't look like anything bad was wrong, even though it was, I made my way downstairs to the kitchen. It was only like nine o'clock in the morning, and since we'd been up most of last night, I figured I'd have awhile until Sam awoke.

So, naturally, I decided to make us some breakfast.

Yeah. But I can't cook. I mean... AT ALL.

No really. This one time, I put some frozen chicken nuggets in the microwave for like thirty seconds, and they managed to burn through the plate they were on and got welded to the bottom of our microwave.

Really? Thirty seconds!? How does that even happen!?

Anyway, I got started on a meal for me and my cousin.

After about an hour, I had the table set with a lovely little buffet.

I had made (scorched) some pancakes, freshly squeezed (pulverized) some orange juice, fried (put in a pan until they shrivelled up) several pieces of bacon, and scrambled some eggs (and eggshells).

Overall, I thought it'd be pretty tasty.

I was wrong.

Whenever Sam finally got his butt out of bed and walked into the kitchen, he did a doubletake at the table that was already set.

"Yo-you made th-this?" he stuttered, baffled at my kind gesture.

Then he smiled. "Okay, what'd you do with my cousin?" he asked slyly.

"I made it." I giggled cheerily. "Thought 'cha might need some refreshment."

He smiled awkwardly. "Thanks." he mumbled with a lopsided grin.

"Yeah, so I, uh... I got pancakes, bacon, eggs, and juice. All burnt." she mumbled the last part. "So, uh... dig in." she chimed.

"Okay. Hang on a second, I just gotta get some milk." he remarked.

"Kay." she said.

As Sam shuffled into the kitchen, he absent-mindedly began to mumble.

"Morning, Mojo." he said.

"Mo-jo, Mo-jo, Mo-jo."

He plucked the milk from the fridge, walking over to the kitchen window.

The chiuauah made his prescence know by a repeated yap, annoying his owner.

"Mojo, please quit with the barking! It's too early." Sam complained, looking out of the glass.

Until he saw a certain yellow, that is.

He instantly dropped the jug he was holding, milk exploding all over the floor.

I, hearing a commotion where Sam was, shot out of my seat at the table and bolted into the area where the food was prepared.

"WHAT THE FUCK, SAM!?" I screamed, gaping at the white liquid all over the floor, drenching the cracked platic carton.

Before I could do anything, he snatched my arm up and dragged me into the dining room.

He whipped out his cellphone and began aggressively pushing buttons.

Who the crap is he calling? I wondered.

"Miles, Miles. Listen to me-"

Well I guess that's who he's calling.

"Listen, my car- it stole itself."

What!?

I nearly broke my neck, snapping my head around to look out the window. And, sure enough, there was the Comaro, plain as day. Alone. With no driver. With the engine running.

There was a pause and then

"Satan's Comaro, in my yard! It's stalking me!" he freaked out.

And, apparently Miles didn't buy it, cause he slammed the phone shut, and sprinted out the front door, me in tow.

"Sam, where'd that thing come from!?" I demanded.

"Hell!" he squeaked out in a high-pitched voice.

He snatched up his mother's bike (guess Ron got it from the junkyard), and I looked around frantically for my skateboard.

It. Wasn't. Frickin'. There.

Just my luck to not have a ride the day a killer vehicle decides to chase us!

Now, most people reading this probably think it'd be a hilarious situation, but it wasn't. I was honestly starting to panic, and I guess my relative saw that, because he scooted as far forward as he could on the girl's bike and motioned hastily for me to get on.

Even in this state of emergency, I was really hesitant to get on the bike.

The most intimate thing me and Sam had done in ten years was a really weird one-armed hug, and I knew I'd have to get pretty close to him if I didn't wanna fall off and die (I'm kidding.), so I was pretty creeped out by it.

After a few seconds that felt like minutes, I jumped (yeah, literally jumped) on the back of the bike and my cousin started peddaling.

I felt bad. He was already freaked out about the car just as bad as me, and now he was working the pedals for two people. Gosh, I felt bad.

I held tight to the edged of the seat, and tried to shift my weight in a weak attempt to easy the burden.

Alas, that attmept... plain, out right failed.

My butt started wobbling like I was gonna fall off, I freaked out, and snapped my arms tightly around his waist.

Even through all the drama, I felt him tense at the sudden contact, then relax slightly.

After a few more seconds, I started getting the feeling that he really did still like me.

No, not like that, you dirty minded freaks!

I mean, the whole reason I hadn't wanted to come visit him was because we had grown apart and I thought he could care less about me. Now, I realized I was wrong. It was just the sort of brotherly aura he gave off that made me feel like I finally had family that wanted me. It was actually kind of... nice. Ya know, if you're allowed to use that word when describing a car chase. Er- bike chase, I guess.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when we flew past a Burger King where Mikalea and some other snobby people were sitting and talking. All of a sudden, when we got close to where they were, we hit a chunk of concrete that was raised from the ground and catapolted off the pink bike.

Sam landed on his back right by the bicycle, and I landed on (you guessed it) my face, effectively ripping the bandage from the cut.

I hissed sharply when I felt blood come to the surface of the wound and slide down my jawline.

"Sam? ... Jace?" Mikalea asked. I could tell she was concerned and I would've found that really nice... if I wasn't internally screaming in agony.

Wiping my cheek off roughly with my arm, which really only made it hurt worse, I pushed myself from the pavement.

"Hi." Sam groaned, still half laying on the ground.

"That was, uh... that was really... awesome." she said awkwardly.

I rolled my eyes and picked the girly little bike up.

"It felt awesome." Sam mumbled.

"Are you guys okay?" the jock concubine finally asked, getting up from her seat at the table to check on us.

"I'm not okay, actually. I'm losin' my mind a little bit." he snapped.

"We're gettin' chased by a car, right now. Gotta go." I said, climbing on the bike after him.

I vaguely remember her telling her posse she'd see them later and beginning the walk off, but I didn't exactly pay them any attention after we started off again. I was still holding onto Sam with an iron grip, but this time it was from fear of being caught instead of sisterly love.

We arrived at some old lot filled with junky cars and other crap. Maybe it was still part of the junkyard... I dunno.

Anyway, we skidded to a stop, and I literally leaped from the bicycle, Sam not being far behind.

The Comaro drove by, but before I could even think about doing a happy dance, a police car pulled up.

"Screw this." I mumbled. "I'm not dealing with another pissy psycho police officer."

And with that, I booked it.

Straight across the lot. Granted, I only made it about fifty feet, before turning to see if Sam was behind me or not.

He wasn't.

Now this, good people, is when I created a brand new dictionary of profanity.

Seriously, I used every word in the book plus more.

Sprinting as fast as I could in the direction I'd came from, I started to feel like an idiot. Why the crap was I running toward the bitchy cop and crazy wacked out Comaro?

I never got the answer to that question.

The frickin' cop was trying to run over my cousin!

Sam was laying on the ground, backing away as fast as he could without standing and running, and the police car was surging forward every few seconds, trying to squish him like a bug.

Then the dang headlight came out, making all kinds of freaky clicking noises and crap, and grew spikes around it! I mean, I've heard of good cop/ bad cop, but this shit was taking bad cop to a whole other level!

It was like something out of a sci-fi movie!

Then the headlights retracted and the fucker TRANSFORMED INTO A ROBOT THINGY! Yeah, just like the Comaro, but this one had glowy red eyes instead of bright blue.

"Oh god. NO!" Sam panicked and finally got up and ran.

I dashed toward him, only to be cut off when Mr. Evilbot's hand came and smacked Sam onto the hood of an old car.

Hiding behind a broken down motorcycle nearby, I peaked out, watching and waiting to see if my cousin was going to be killed.

It was all too much for me, feeling so helpless as I watched him lay there and get questioned about his Ebay page. (what the crap, right?) So helpless that I almost started crying.

Almost.

"WHERE ARE THE GLASSES!?" Mr. Evilbot boomed.

His voice shook the ground, and I flinched every single time he spoke.

Why the heck couldn't I have just stayed home this summer?

PLEASE REVIEW!

K THX BYE!