Transformers Imagines

The Car (Bumblebee)

     •••this part is a little rendition of the beginning of Transformers 1•••
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     I sat on my navy blue duvet, papers strewn across the covers. Trying to get homework done so that by the time Dad and Sam got back I could go out and see Sam's new car. I was a little envious, I'll admit, but I was only fifteen. Didn't even have my temps yet. But when I did and whenever I got my license, Sam and I were supposed to share it. It sucked, but a problem for the future.
     Half an hour later after finishing math and science, I put my books back in my bag as I heard the sound of Dad's car and another I assumed to be Sam's pull into the driveway. I slipped on a pair of Adidas slides and headed downstairs and out the back door, stopping on the back porch and path that Mom and Dad were working on. Sitting there beside Dads car was a 1972 Chevy Camaro. Yellow, custom painted with black racing stripes, and although the paint was obviously faded and sun bleached, it was still apparent the car had many more years left in it still.
     Walking around the car slowly, I traced my fingers over the smooth metal, feeling the warmth from the sun. There was hardly any rust on it at all. I smiled. Making it back to the driver side door, I opened it and sat in the driver seat, leaving my feet hang out the open door. The seats were reverse, black with a thick yellow singular stripe running down the middle. The steering wheel was still slick with sweat from where Sam's hands were. It was an old school dial radio, automatic transmission. Hanging on the rear view mirror was a bumblebee cardboard thing like those Black Ice trees you hang for scent, and underneath the bumblebee it said 'Bee-otch'. I laughed.
     Not bad Sammy boy, I thought to myself.
     "Hey, Y/N. What do you think you're doing? Get out of my car." Sam called. I ducked my head and rushed to get out of the car. Accidentally, in my haste I slammed the door a little too hard causing Sam to yell at me more. Sam has never been fond of me, I wasn't even his biological sister. His mom and Dad adopted me ten years ago when I was in an orphanage.
     "Hey, Sam be nice to your sister." Dad snapped. "She just wanted to look at the car, she's going to be driving it too in a couple years when she gets her license."
     "She's not my sister," Sam mumbled just enough for me to hear. I dropped my head and closed my eyes, bring my hands limply in front of my chest. "Are we even sure that she'll be able to drive? I mean she doesn't even talk."
     "Samuel James Witwicky!" Mom hollered. "You cut the crap right now or else."
     "What?" Sam challenged.
     "I'm taking the car and giving it to your sister anyways and you don't get one." Dad answered. Sam huffed.
     "Fine, I'm sorry Y/N. Better?" Sam asked sarcastically. They just gave him a disappointed look.
     Still looking at the ground I saw the hose laying a few feet away. An idea struck my head. I grabbed it and touched Sam's shoulder. He turned to look at me. I gestured to the car and raised the hose. Quirking an eyebrow he pieced it together.
     "You want to wash the car?"
     I nodded. He rolled his eyes and shrugged.
     "Whatever, helps me out actually. I got a party to go to tonight to show off my new wheels. Just don't scratch the paint." Then before Mom or Dad could say anything he went inside. I dropped my gaze and the hose, letting it fall to the ground. Mom and Dad came up to me, I looked at them letting the tears fall from my eyes. Asking a question that I know they could read. Why does he hate me so much? What do I have to do to get him to love me?
     "Oh hunny, it's going to be okay. He just is exited for this car and doesn't want anything to happen to it." Mom assured me.
     "Yeah, it's a male dominance thing, you know?" Dad tried, causing Mom to lightly push him and me to chuckle.
     "Just wash the car, okay? Ignore him." Mom said. I nodded and sniffles. Turning to the garage, I gathered the car washing things and headed back out to the car. Turning the water on I began cleaning the car.
                             ***************
     Finishing hours later, I had washed the car inside and out, waxed the car, cleaned the rims, even detailed every crevice inside the interior. I wiped my brow and admired my work right as Sam came bursting out the door jingling the keys in his hand. He stopped and looked at the Camaro whistling.
     "Making me feel bad for snapping at you earlier, Y/N. The car looks great, thank you." Sam graces. I smiled, lifting my head and puffing out my chest a bit.
     "Hey Sam, since your sister cleaned your car, she should go with you to the party." Mom called from the path that Dad was de-weeding. Sam groaned.
     "Ahh Mom, no. She can't. A bunch of the kids from my grade are going to be there and it wouldn't be cool having to have my mute little sister there."
     "Oh, so she is your sister now?" Dad joked.
     "Uh, no." Sam said plainly as he walked up to the car.
     "SAMUEL!" Mom hissed. He groaned again and threw his head back.
     "You want to come mute?" Sam said, trying to offend me. I thought a moment then smiled. I nodded, but pulled at my shirt and held up my index finger. One moment please. I turned around and ran back into the house and up to my room. Kicking off my slides and pulling my clothes off as quick as I could, I pulled on a pair of white wash skinny jeans, a navy blue cami and a matching navy blue, white and black plaid shirt and a black bandana. I grabbed my New York hippie bag, a pair of socks out of my dresser, my emergency makeup bag off my vanity, and my black ankle converse out of the closet. Dashing downstairs with my shoes and socks in hand, I ran outside barefoot to the Camaro, Sam sitting inside the running car fumbling with the radio.
     "Don't have too much fun!" Mom called to us. "I want you both home by eleven O'clock."
     "Eleven O'clock." Dad reiterated.
     "And please, for the love of God, Sam, drive safely."
     And with that last call Sam put the Camaro in drive and gunned out of the driveway, doing a burnout and spitting rocks behind us. I was thrown back in the seat, getting motion sick for a second before Sam evened our on the road and drove off smoothly. I began putting my socks and shoes on.
     "Hey, just so you know, before you get too comfortable, I'm picking up Miles." Sam stayed. I sat back up, one shoe on but unlaced and looked at Sam. Giving him an 'okay, and?' Look. "Well I just wanted you to know." Sam tried. I rolled my eyes and continued putting my shoes on. As Sam pulled up to Miles house, I pulled out my makeup bag.
     "Why did you bring that? It's not like you have any friends at this party or anyone to impress." Sam sneered. Suddenly feeling self conscious, I slipped the makeup bag back into my purse and sat back. Then, deciding against it I turned and crawled over the center console to be on the back seat so Miles didn't have to wait on me. The radio that Sam had still been trying to mess with began playing "you're beautiful" and refused to change no matter what Sam did. He threw his hands in the air and sat back in defeat. Miles finally came out and got in the Camaro. The song came to an end, causing Sam to mutter a 'Finally'. Miles didn't hear it though, as he sat down he fist bumped Sam then turned and nodded to me. About as much acknowledgement that I would ever receive from him.
     "Hey Sam this is a sweet set of wheels." Miles commented as Sam began to drive off. I decided to fix my hair at this point, pulling it out of the French braid that it was in, combing my fingers threw the blonde wavy locks to de tangle it a bit, then tying the bandana in as a headband with the knot on top so I had a bit of a Rosie the Riveter look. It wasn't long before Sam and Miles pulled up to the lake, Sam low key freaking out about Mikaela being there. I rolled my eyes as Sam and Miles got out. Sam tried to slam his door shut, as did Miles, only Sam's door bounced back open for me.
     I frowned, confused as he closed it hard enough and there weren't any obstructions in the door that I could see. I shrugged it off and climbed out none the less. My legs needed to stretch. I closed the door gentle but firm behind me and reached for the sky. Looking toward Miles and Sam I saw Miles in a tree and Trent and Mikaela and a bunch of Trents football friends conversing with them. I shrugged, not about to get in the middle and climbed on the hood of the car. The sun glittered off the hood and windshield. I leaned back on my hands, admiring my work once more then raising my face to the sun.
     Thoughts of driving the Camaro down a road with the windows down and music blasting filled my mind. I smiled, letting a small laugh exit my lips. I swear that I felt the care hood heat up under my hands as well.
     "Hey, Y/N. C'mon we're leaving." Sam snapped, jolting me out of my dreams. I jumped down off the hood and went to go climb in the car as miles slid in through the passenger window. I sat down and buckled in, hearing the radio start playing an older song and Miles ask what's wrong with it. Sam responded with "I'm gonna drive her home tonight."
     "What! No! She's an evil jock concubine man, let her hitchhike." Mikes argued.
     "Miles you gotta listen to me, alright? She lives Ten miles from here."
     "Alright fine then, we'll put her in the backseat and I'll shut up." Miles said.
     "Miles, I'm not putting her in the back, alright you gotta get out of my car." Sam pleaded.
     "You... you can't do this to me, Sam. It's a party foul." Miles argued.
     "What rules?" Sam snapped.
     "Bro's before hoes." Causing Sam to punch his shoulder.
     "Miles, I'm begging you to get out of my car." Sam finally said, with more venom.
     Miles finally gave in and climbed out with his jacket. Sam took off toward a walking Mikaela in a salmon crop top and a jean mini skirt. Her long dark brunette hair was crimped to perfection as it swayed from side to side behind her. I ducked my head as a blush of self consciousness flushed me.
     "Mikaela, it's me! Sam Witwicky? I don't want you to get stranded or anything. So listen, I was wondering if I could ride you home. I mean uh, give you a ride home. In my car to your house." Mikaela smiled and came around to get in the passenger seat. Sam drove off as Mikaela buckled and grit her teeth.
     "I can't believe that I'm here right now." She mumbled. Sam looked behind the two seats and out the back windshield.
     "You can duck down if you want, it won't hurt my feelings or anything." Sam responded, but the hurt was evident in his voice.
     "Oh no, I don't mean right here. I mean in this... situation that I always find myself in. I don't know, cause I guess that I have a weakness, for guys with tight abs and... really big arms." She shrugged, clarifying with her hands then looking out the window.
     "Oh..." Sam said, forming a plan as I watched him look at his rear view mirror and out the back windshield again. "Well there's a couple new additions to the car. Like that light there, and that disco ball. So the light reflects off the disco ball." Sam flexed his biceps as he tried to point to the light and disco ball. I rolled my eyes. Omg Sam.
                               **************
     One car break down later, after we got Mikaela back home I got back in the passenger seat. I was a little salty that Sam didn't introduce me to Mikaela, but then again she hadn't noticed me either. Sam and I drove home in silence. The radio not even making a peep. We pulled in the driveway, Sam pulled out his phone. 10:55.
     "Alright, I'm going inside. Don't be too late." He commented before getting out and closing the door. I watched him walk in the back door. I looked over at the steering wheel where Sam just was, then back down to my lap. What was I doing? Why did I feel like I needed to say something to a car? What do you say to a car even? Thanks? For obeying command and carrying me around town? God I would be put in the looney bin. It's a good thing I don't talk then I guess. Shaking my head I unbuckled and got out of the car. As I closed the door, I traced my fingers along the top of the door just under the window and smiled.
     Sam hadn't named the car, and I doubted that he would, so I would do it for him. Goodnight... Bumblebee... I thought. And with that, I retreated back into the house and got ready for bed.