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One Life by LogicIsTheUltimateWeapon

Cartoons » Transformers/Beast Wars Rated: T, English, Adventure & Friendship, Words: 5k+, Favs: 5, Follows: 5, Published: 1-28-12 Updated: 6-15-12
3 Chapter 2

A/N: It's been far too long since an update and I apologize. I must warn now though that I will not be able to update regularly, but I am NOT abandoning any of my stories

A/N 2: Also, the summary was revised in order to compliment the story better.

Warning: Cussing; Movie/Plot changes.

Disclaimer: The only thing that belongs to me is my OC.


It was the next day, and classes were just beginning. I grunted as I was pushed throughout the hallways of the crowded Tranquility high school corridors, my sneakers squeaking as I tried to find hold of the floor. It was aggravating, really. I prided myself on being tall, taller than Mikaela in fact, however I was also just another normal student who happened to be friends with one of the most popular girls at school - even if that wasn't socially accepted by her 'clique.'

My head popped up from the sea of teenagers as I stood on my toes, and unfortunately the resulting outcome wasn't one I was expecting.

Shoved abruptly against the lockers, I found a yelp escaping my lips. The impact caused me to bounce, and soon enough I ended up on the ground, ontop of another student to boot.

"Aw shit!"

The exclamation had me pulled from the haze of my shock, and I rolled off of whoever I'd fallen on, sitting up. Turning around to look at just who I'd bumped into, I almost groaned in exasperation. It was that kid who was prone to being bullied by Trent.

He didn't even spare me a glance, collecting his items that had spilled from his backpack. I did the same, though at a more sedated pace than his frantic scrambling. Readjusting my glasses, I noticed absentmindedly that all of his items seemed pretty old, like they were taken straight out of some kind of documentary from history class. I saw him put an item into his bag labelled 'for family geology report'. Well that explained that I guess.

"Oh God... aw fuck, man, I'm so late! I'm never going to get an A this way! If I can't convince Dad to get me a car now, I'll end up being that 70 year old virgin man in a wheelchair, picking up blue-haired grannies! Blue-haired!" He cursed to no one in particular, but I couldn't help thinking it was directed somehow at me. Zipping up his backpack and slinging it over his arm, he huffed. "What the hell was that?" He turned a glare over to me.

I felt my own irritation rising, it wasn't like I'd planned this either, but I didn't have the guts to voice my thoughts. It was getting harder and harder to maintain control over my routine at school and the stress was taking it's toll.

Ducking my head, I avoided direct eye contact. My hands searched blindly on the floor for my fallen items intermingled with his.

I could sense him deflate, his voice softer now. "Hey, I-I'm sorry. I was just surprised and my morning has been stressful enough as it is."

I sighed, lifting my head again. "I can, er, sympathize." Pushing myself up the same time he did, we both stood. "I apologize as well." I stretched out my hand, waiting to shake his own.

He chuckled. "No need for formalities. I'm Sam, by the way." He slapped my palm instead and grinned. Then the final warning bell rang, and he flinched. "Oh Jesus have mercy!" Groaning, he turned. "I really got to go now, sorry!"

I nodded, even if he couldn't see it, as he started to make a mad dash towards his classroom. I would have called after him, but decided against it. It didn't stop me from staring at his back as he disappeared into the pool of teens though. Something about that guy was unfathomably intriguing. I'm just not sure what.

"Why aren't you in class yet?" A teacher from behind me reprimanded, seeming to appear out of thin air. I grimaced, just having picked up the last of my items off the, now empty, hallway floor.

"I-I..."

Oh great.


Idly, I laid my chin in the palm of my hand and looked out the window from the desk I sat at in detention. Sighing, I furrowed my brows in frustration. The party at the lake with Mikaela was part of my schedule - detention was not. I'll be lucky if I can even get home early in order to do homework before dinner. I'll have to switch my shower to the morning in order to sleep at my regular time, then I'll have to lay out Bambi's breakfast tonight. No wait, I can't, because that'll mean I can't read my book tonight...

Ugh. Just thinking about my schedule made my head hurt. Thank God the weekend was tomorrow. Those were the only days I allowed myself to loosen my strict routine... just a little.

Anyways, the teacher who got stuck with detention duty sat in front of me at his desk. He had glasses, a black vest and white shirt, plus a bow tie. Oh... oh, I knew him. The memory of Sam from this morning sneaked it's way into my mind. Curiosity killed the cat, as they say.

I stared at the teacher calculatingly, deciding to test the waters.

"Sir?" I asked. He looked up from his newspaper, an eyebrow raised in question.

"No talking in detention." He snapped.

I sighed. Nevermind then, I thought bitterly. I'll just ask Mikaela later.

...

It was later on when I finally made it to the lake. It was one of Mikaela's favourite spots to just relax, but most of the time it's too far from her house to make the trip. Today I'd hitched a ride from one of Trent's friends, as ordered by Mikaela. He was usually a jerk, but the trip there was blessedly quiet. Thank God.

So now she and I were hanging out by a tree, sitting and chatting.

"So how was detention?" She asked.

I sighed, a dry tone in my voice. "It was detention. How do you think it went?"

She smirked. "No need to be pissy."

"Oh hush you," We both chuckled.

"My turn to ask you a question. You were in Sam's first class this morning, right? How'd his report go?"

"Sam?" There really was no recognition in her eyes. "Sam...Well, there was this one kid. Wilhicky, I think. Was pretty jumpy doing his report. Trent picked on him. The teacher seemed kinda pissed. In the middle of the report, though, he seemed kinda panicked. Was worried 'bout some missing glasses or something." She shrugged. "Why?"

Well, that certainly was intriguing. "Nothing," I replied nonchalantly.

From the next couple trees over, Trent suddenly hollered. "Hey, babe!"

Mikaela jerked her head up. "Yeah, comin'!" She stood, dusting off her bum and knees. I stood as well, pulling on her sleeve.

She looked up at me, and I smiled. "Might as well take the sweater off. You know how Queen Bee hates it when you wear these baggy things."

Mikaela scowled. "Trent is not a queen bee, and you know it." Then some humor in her eyes as she took off her sweater and placed it in my arms. "Here's my sweater, Mom." She teased, grinning.

I chuckled, patting her on the bum to push her forward. "Be home before 10, daughter dear." She laughed, walking off to her boyfriend.

I sat back down, leaning on the tree, sweater in my lap. Tired of just watching everyone else for half an hour, I closed my eyes, mind slowly fading to black.

I didn't know what time it was later on when I was awoken by an angry Mikaela. She huffed, grabbing her sweater from me and standing. "We're leaving." Briskly, she stood and started walking.

I scrambled to stand and followed after her. "Wait! Wait, what? We're walking?" Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sam and one of his friends. Stopping short in my tracks, I looked at him. He stared back.

"Hey, wait a second! Look, it's Sam! The guy from your first class today," I pointed over to him.

She looked at him, outwardly bored, but I could see her interest. "So?"

"Let's ask him for a ride, because I know that I am sure as hell not walking." I changed directions, dragging her with me despite her protests. "Sam!"

He suddenly seemed to blanch at the sight of us - or rather, at the sight of Mikaela. "Mikaela." He gulped.

I furrowed my brows. "And Nicole! I'm plain, not invisible!"

His blonde-haired friend called from inside the car, "You get used to it these days!" I shrugged him off.

"Sam, right?" Mikaela asked him, a small amused smile in place.

"Y-Yeah."

"Well, as you can see, my friend and I have a little bit of a problem here."

"O-oh yeah! Uh, actually, I was just going to offer to, uh, r-ride you hom- give you a ride home - to your house!" His cheeks flushed slightly in embarrassment. Mikaela's fingers twitched around her hold on her purse, and I inwardly laughed.

Mikaela silently moved passed me, her hand brushing against my own in a silent message to go with her. I went to the backseat of the car as my friend got into the passenger seat, Sam having ushered his friend out before.

It was silent for the first part of the drive - Mikaela trying to get me to join in on some awkward conversations, but I knew a lovestruck boy when I saw one, and I think Sam deserved the opportunity to impress my friend. So I stayed silent. Then the two started to talk, Mikaela telling him a little bit about herself and her situation. At one point, the car's radio malfunctioned and I had to stop myself from giggling at the suggestive songs playing. Mikaela attempted to fix the car, but Sam went ahead and said something about a sensitive subject for her (the subject was in fact Trent, the jerk - he's causing trouble for her even when he's not around). She almost left, trying to get me to go with her, but I stayed, and Sam was able to convince her back. There were more conversations, from heartfelt to humorous, and I kept silent the whole time, secretly enjoying their blooming relationship.

It was already evening when Sam dropped us off at Mikaela's house. She offered to let me sleep over, but I declined. I needed to get home to feed Bambi.

As Mikaela entered her house, I observed Sam as he pulled away, after - quite comically - reprimanding himself over a stupid pick-up line. His car flashed it's lights three times, and I blinked. Huh.

I shrugged, then made the short trip back to my house.

...

I laid in my bed, Bambi at my side. I scratched her head affectionately, and she licked my face in return. I smiled, then sat up, grabbing for my bag. Might as well get started on my homework.

I opened my bag and dumped out its contents. I grabbed my math notebook and a pencil and eraser, when a glint caught my eye. Ontop of the dumped papers and junk, sat broken glasses. The lenses were round, and the frame was relatively thin. The glass lens, however, was shattered to pieces. I groaned. These were probably Sam's - from earlier when he bumped into me. Wonder how they broke.

There were many possibilities throughout the day in which these could have broken in my backpack. Great. Now I feel like a jerk.

I gathered the glasses and collected the remaining tiny pieces of glass into my hands, and carefully put them inside my dresser's drawer. I'll just have to tell Sam about the glasses later.

Holding up one of the larger pieces of broken lens between my index finger and thumb, I held it up to the light. There were little indentations and marks in it - kinda like a map, but not one I'd understand. Well that was peculiar.

I put the glass into the drawer. I guess that will just have to be a question for another day.


It was the weekend and Mikaela and I were in front of Burger King with her friends. They were nice, but they only clung to Mikaela because of her popularity. Briefly, I wondered what it was like for her. Not knowing who her real friends were. Was it scary sometimes? I grabbed another of my french fries and nibbled as they chatted. It was gossip, something I knew my friend enjoyed, but I missed the moments when we'd indulge each other in other subjects. In situations like this, I was excluded from Mikaela's conversations.

Even though nobody knows it, Mikaela's not half bad in certain science sub-subjects, and she's not bad at English either. We both typically talk about English, but I like to listen to her rant about mechanics. She's so happy when she does it, and after the incident with her father, she just seems so at home.

"Hey, look at the dork on the pink bicycle," One of Mikaela's friends pointed out.

I looked there, just in time to see Sam - the presumed dork - do a front flip with his bike. He failed. Miserably. And it looked like it hurt a lot, too.

"Sam?" Mikaela seemed alarmed.

He groaned, "Hi..."

"That was, uh- that was really..." She mused for the right word, "awesome."

Sam stood as if he'd never fallen. "Yeah, it felt awesome."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm not okay, okay? I'm losing my mind; being chased by my car. Gotta go!" He grabbed his bike again and pedaled away briskly. No room for any more words.

Mikaela stood, "Hey, I'll uh," She was distracted, I could tell. "I'll see you guys later."

I stood with her, an expectant look on my face. She looked back at me, almost exasperated. I gave her an innocent smile and she smacked me playfully. "Yes, yes, you can come." I whooped. "Let's go."

Now this, was very interesting. Suspicious Sam - wonder where he'll lead us.

...

Mikaela and I rode along on her blue motorbike. She'd gotten one that seats two people - if only because I helped pay for it. It was hers, though. She needed it. And not just because she loves vehicles.

We tracked him to some parking lot. There was debris littered everywhere, and I wondered what possible business could he have in there. We were still on the road when we saw him reappear from inside, he was waving and yelling something that was undecipherable.

Mikaela pulled into the lot so we could talk to him, but he ended up practically tackling both of us off the 'bike.

We all groaned as we hit the floor.

Mikaela snapped, "What is your problem, Sam?"

"Okay, there's a monster right there, he just attacked me-" He pointed towards where he just came from.

I looked and suddenly saw this huge robot charging towards us. "HOLY SHIT!"

"Here he comes!"

Mikaela seemed frozen, Sam holding her shoulders to ground her. "Okay, come on, you gotta get up. We gotta run!" She wouldn't move.

"Hit the deck!" I screeched as I saw Sam's car suddenly drive towards us.

Simultaneously, we all fell to the side, the black and yellow car popping it's door open. It was only then I realized the car had no driver.

"Sam, what is that thing?" Mikaela demanded.

Looking behind me, I eyed the black and white monster-robot getting ever so closer.

"Okay, look, you're going to have to get into the car. Trust me. Come on!" He tried to usher us both into there. I nodded, desperate to get away from the monster - and it seemed like the car was the safer option at this point.

"Sam-" We both pulled Mikaela in. I practically launched myself into the back seat.

The yellow and black car drove. Fast. Sam didn't even touch the wheel.

Mikaela started freaking out. "Ohmigod, we're gonna die! We're gonna DIE!" I wanted to agree, but my heart was beating fast and my throat seemed to close in on itself. I pressed myself further into the seat.

At some point, Sam gave in to the freaking out, and soon enough we were all panicking and screaming. If our lives weren't at stake right now, I'm sure we would have looked quite funny.

Soon, we pulled into another place. Outside some factory or whatever. I didn't have the processing power to decipher where we were. The monster-turned police car (when did that happen?) drove right by us, and then we were able to shoot right past it. We were so close I could have patted the police car's bumper.

And then the chase was on again. Sam's car dumped us out and transformed into another monster, just like the one from earlier.

No, not monster, I concluded, robot.

Suddenly Sam's car-robot was tackled by the aforementioned monster-robot, and Sam, Mikaela, and I screamed again. The monster-robot tuck and rolled, and suddenly his attention was on us.

All three of us stared at each other, gulped, then looked back at the black and white police car monster-robot.

I get the feeling that I probably won't be back early to give Bambi her bath tonight.


A/N 3: By now, you can probably guess that the plot won't follow the Transformers movies. Anyways, thanks for reading! Constructive criticism welcome, and flamers - please don't comment on how much you hate it. It will do nothing to make the story better.


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