So I'm starting a new story. It's been in my head for a few weeks now so I thought why not? So here it is. Hope you enjoy.

A/N UPDATE (Sep. 28): I made a few updates, so rereading the whole story might be a good idea.

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers.

Chapter 1

Have you ever wondered why? Why you're here, what your purpose is? Everyone wonders and asks themselves why at one point or another.

Who am I? Why am I here? What am I supposed to do?

The only downfall is not getting any answers. We all wondered why we were put on this planet. To find an alternative motive to life. That's kind of how I felt. I had this kind of void in me my whole life and I questioned it on a regular basis. I felt different from others like an outsider. And no not one of those loner kids who wear all black and think they need blood to survive or anything like that. A part of me told me I was meant for something else, something bigger.

Don't get me wrong I love my life and everyone in it. I just had a feeling that that void wasn't supposed to be empty forever.

"Mrs. Witwicky!" Mr. Hosney glowered.

"W-what?" My head shot up from leaning on my arm. A few students snickered.

"Would you mind paying attention for once?"

"Won't happen again." I tried every time, but it never worked out for me.

"Not the first time I've heard that." He grumbled. Well it wasn't totally my fault. It was history class. I was honestly genuinely interested in history, but only certain parts and this section wasn't one of them. It also didn't help that Mr. Hosney was a crap history teacher. He could teach fine, but it didn't seem like he liked the subject very much.

"Okay, Mr. Witwicky, you're up." Mr. Hosney announced. My brother leapt from his seat to the front.

"Sorry, I got a lot of stuff." He tilted his backpack upside down and dumped his belongings on the front desk. Way to be organized, big brother.

"Watch this." I heard Trent Demarco say to his girlfriend, Mikaela Banes.

"Oh-kay. For my family genea- ah-" Sam didn't very far into his presentation before he got hit in the face with what I presumed was a spit ball courtesy of the head asshole of the school. The whole class laughed. I turned around to glare at Trent. He shot me what was supposed to be a charming look and winked at me. I rolled my eyes and turned back around.

"Who did- who did that? People! Responsibility." The teacher tried to look stern and even pointed his finger at us, but nobody ever took him seriously. I looked back at the asshole and he had the audacity to 'look around' to see who hit Sam.

My brother turned back to the teacher and Mr. Hosney nodded him to begin.

"Okay. Um." Sam clasped his hands together nervously. "So, for my family genealogy report, I decided to do it on my great-great-grandfather, who was a famous man, Captain Archibald Witwicky. Very famous explorer. In fact, he was one of the first... to explore... the Arctic Circle, which is a big deal. In 1897, he took forty-one brave sailors straight into the Arctic Shelf." He unfolded a map of the Arctic Circle.

I tried listening to my brother's presentation, but I practically knew it by heart. I did help him write it. The project was basic enough. All we had to do was pick a family member that did something interesting, important... as long as it wasn't stupid like James Carter's presentation. He did his whole project on his dad. He's a butcher. The only thing James talked about for ten whole minutes was how he cut up the animals. Not the most interesting thing to listen to. I had already presented mine earlier this week. I did it on my mom's distant aunt Rosa Witwicky. She was a famous archeologist who discovered a new breed of dinosaur back in the 60's.

"So that's the story, right? And here we have some of the basic instruments and tools used by nineteenth century seamen." The class laughed. Mr. Hosney looked too tired to care so he lifted his famous little 'stop sign' to quiet everyone down. "This here is the quadrant, which you can get for eighty bucks. It's all for sale, by the way. Like the, uh, the sextant here." The class laughed again. My brother was an idiot. Selling our great-great-grandfather's things like he was in the market. I tried to reason with him to not sell them, but he wasn't convinced. I tried to tell him he needed to get a job, but he wouldn't hear any of it.

"Fifty dollars for this, which is a bargain. These are pretty cool. These are my grandfather's glasses. I haven't quite gotten them appraised yet, but they've seen many cool things."

"Are you going to sell me his liver? Mr. Witwicky, this isn't show and sell. It's the eleventh grade. I don't think your grandfather would be particularly proud of what you're doing." I hid my smile from Sam. Even the teacher could see how dumb he looked.

"I know. I'm sorry. I just, you know, this is all going towards my car fund. You can tell your folks. It's on eBay. I take . Cold hard cash works, too." Cue the laughter. Mr. Hosney sighed silently but dramatically with the whole head thrown back. "And the compass makes a- a great gift for Columbus Day." Oh my god just stop Sam.

"Sam!" The teacher tried to get him to stop.

"Sorry. Um, unfortunately, my great-great-grandfather, the genius that he was, wound up going blind and crazy in a psycho ward, drawing these strange symbols and babbling on about some, uh, giant ice man that he thought he'd discovered." The bell rang, and everyone got up.

"Okay. Might be a pop quiz tomorrow. Might not. Sleep in fear tonight." Right like that's gonna happen.

"Here, you want? Here, fifty. Forty? Thirty?" I looked at my brother in shame as he tried to sell something as students walked by.

"Sam?" I stayed to wait for my brother.

"Yeah. Sorry, sorry. Okay. Pretty good, right?" He looked all happy. Ugh what an idiot. Sadly, I was related to that idiot.

"Uh... I'd say a solid B-minus." I think Sam's happy bubble just popped.

"A B-minus?" I giggled silently. Yup he wasn't happy.

"You were hawking your great-grandfather's crap in my classroom." The teacher didn't look impressed.

"No, kids enjoy- Look, can you do me a favor?"

"What?"

"Can you look out the window for a second? You see my father? He's the guy in the green car."

"Nh. Yeah."

"Okay, I wanna tell you about a dream. A boy's dream. And a man's promise to that boy. He looked at me in the eye. He said, Son, I'm gonna buy you a car. But I want you to bring me two thousand dollars, and three As. Okay? I got the two thousand dollars and I got two As. Okay? Here's the dream. Your B-minus. Poof. Dream gone. Kaput. Sir, just ask yourself, what would Jesus do?" I couldn't contain myself. I ran out of the classroom before I burst out laughing. My brother really cracked me up whenever he got desperate.

I went to my locker to get my homework before going outside.

"Hey dad." I said getting in the backseat.

"Hi sweetheart, how was your day?"

"Same old, same old."

"So you dozed off again in class?" He looked at me through the mirror.

"No!" I said a little too fast. He looked back at me not believing me for a second. "Alright maybe once or twice." I said with a cheeky grin. My dad rolled his eyes in amusement with a hint of a smile on his face.

"Where's your brother?" He said looking for Sam.

"Trying to up his grade." I said.

"Yes! Yes, yes." Sam yelled as he ran out of the school. He threw his bag in the back nearly hitting me in the face. I hit him upside the head when he sat down.

"Ow! What the hell was that for Autumn?"

"You know exactly what that was for. You almost knocked off my head!" He looked at me exasperated.

"Oh! A-minus. It's an A, though." Sam said shoving the paper in dad's face.

"Wait, wait, wait. I can't see." He finally managed to get a good look. "It's an A."

"So I'm good?" Sam looked so hopeful it was like looking into a puppy's eyes.

"You're good." I put in my earphones and listened to Ed Sheeran. We drove around town for around ten minutes to get to the car dealership.

"I got a little surprise for you, kids."

"What kind of s-" Dad turned right into a parking lot but I wasn't paying attention to where we were.

"Yeah, a little surprise." I looked around at the cars. Oh my god. We were at the Porsche dealership. But dad was cheap, so it didn't make sense as to why we were here.

"No. No, no, no, no! Dad! Oh, you got to be kidding me." Sam was getting excited over nothing. As soon as I saw the nice cars and the ghost of a smile on dad's face, I had clued in.

"Yeah. I am. You're not getting a Porsche." Dad and I started laughing.

"You think that's funny?"

"Yeah, I think it's funny." I couldn't stop laughing I had tears streaming down my face. Sam's reaction was too funny.

"What's wrong with you two?"

"You think I'd really get you a Porsche? For your first car?"

"Aw Sam don't look so glum chum." I teased as I wiped my face.

"I don't want to talk to either of you for the rest of this whole thing."

"Oh, come on. It's just a practical joke." Dad laughed again. Sam was too easy.

"It's not a funny joke." We drove back on the road and into Bobby Bolivia's car dealership. If you can call it that. The cars here were... interesting to say the least. We got out of the car and I could already tell Sam wasn't too pleased. Not gonna lie, neither was I.

"Here? No, no, no, what is this? You said- you said half a car, not half a piece of crap, dad." Sam complained as we drew closer.

"When I was your age, I'd have been happy with four wheels and an engine."

"You actually had cars around when you were our age?" I giggled at my father's expression.

"Okay, let me explain something to you. Okay? You ever see 40-Year-Old Virgin?" My brother asked. I already knew where he was going with this.

"Yeah."

"Okay, that's what this is. And this is 50-year-old virgin." Sam said pointing to crap car 1 and crap car 2.

"Ah, okay."

"You want me to live that life? Hmm?" And my family says I'm the dramatic one.

"Sam you don't have to be so rude." I scolded.

"No sacrifice-" Dad started.

"Yeah, no victory." I finished.

"No victory."

"You know, we got it. The old Witwicky motto, dad." Sam said.

" Right. "

"Gentlemen, and lady. Bobby Bolivia, like the country, except without the runs." A middle-aged black man introduced himself and tried to make a joke. Wasn't happening. "How can I help you?"

"Well, my kids here... looking to buy their first cars."

"You come to see me?"

"We had to." We grumbled at the same time.

"That practically makes us family. Uncle Bobby B, baby. Uncle Bobby B."

"Sam. This is Autumn." We took turns shaking his hand.

"Kids, let me talk to you." Bobby took us by our shoulders and led us towards the cars. "Your first enchiladas of freedom awaits underneath two of those hoods. Let me tell you something. A driver don't pick the car. The car'll pick the driver."

"Mm."

"It's a mystical bond between man and machine. Son, I'm a lot of things, but a liar's not one of them."

"Mm." My brother was a person of many words.

"Especially not in front of my mammy. That's my mammy. Hey, Mammy..." I droned out what he was saying and went off to look at the cars. Most of them were quite old... older than my dad. Others were okay but the colors were horrid. I weaved through the cars until I spotted an old sports car. It was a golden Lamborghini. A Miura if I wasn't mistaken. Looked to be a 1970's model. There were parts that had chipped paint and looked a bit rusty but all in all I think I was in love.

I looked over to see if my brother had found something. They were all surrounded around a yellow and black Camaro. Less old than the Lamborghini but was quite dirty. I could definitively see potential in it. I walked over to them when Sam got in the car.

"How much?" Dad asked.

"Well, considering the semi-classic nature of the vehicle, with the slick wheels and the custom paint job..." Bobby said.

"Yeah, but the paint's faded." My brother interrupted.

"Y-yeah, but it's custom. " That was total bull crap.

"It's custom faded?" He asked confused.

"Well, this is your first car. I wouldn't expect you to understand. Five grand." Well damn. Poor Sam.

"No, I'm not paying over four. Sorry." Dad said.

"What about that Lambo over there?" I interjected. Bobby looked over and looked like his eyes were popping out of their sockets.

"Manny! We've got another one!" He yelled back to the shop. He turned to me. "Since it's a vintage vehicle and has new tires I'd say... six grand." Shit my life.

"Five is the max for her." Dad proclaimed.

"Wait what?" Sam looked bewildered. "I get four, but she gets five? How's that fair?"

"Son, I told you to bring me three A's and two grand to get your car. You only brought the two. Your sister brought three grand. I'm not paying more than two for each of you."

"No need to get your panties in a twist Samantha." I smirked. "If you didn't spend all your money on pointless things like your porn magazines then maybe you'd have more money for a car." My brother looked shocked to say the least. And mad.

"Alright. Kid, come on, get out. Get out the car."

"No, no, no. You said cars pick their drivers." Sam tried to convince Bobby.

"Well, sometimes they pick a driver with a cheap-ass father. Out the car. Now, this one here for four Gs is a beaut." Bobby got in the ugly yellow car beside us as Sam unwillingly got out of the Camaro.

"There's a Fiesta with racing stripes over there." Dad said.

"No, I don't want a Fiesta with racing stripes." Sam grumbled. As much as I teased him, I was really routing for him to get the Camaro.

"This is a classic engine right here. I sold a car the other day-" As Sam closed his door, the passenger door flew open and hit the ugly yellow car. The other car was hit so hard that it knocked over some shelves on the other side. I stifled a giggle.

"Geez. Holy cow."

"No, no, no. No worries." It sounded like Bobby was used to being around crappy cars. Didn't have to look far to prove it.

"You all right?" Dad asked him.

"I'll get a sledgehammer and knock this right out. Hey, hey, Manny! Get your clown cousin and get some hammers and come bang this stuff out, baby!" Bobby had an extremely odd and creepy laugh. The radio of the Camaro suddenly turned on by itself.

"Greater than man..."

"That one's my favorite, drove all the way from Alabamy." Something wasn't right. I could feel it.

"Go..." A high pitched screeching went off and all the car windows went crashing everywhere. We ducked down with arms over our heads. Bobby looked shocked beyond repair. The only cars that had windows intact were the Camaro and the Lamborghini... weird. Bobby turned back to us.

"Nine thousand!" Yes! I did a little happy dance. Dad chuckled and Sam rolled his eyes with his own smile on his face.

Dad went in with Bobby to settle papers and whatnot before we could take the cars home. Scratch that. Ours cars now.

I walked back to my new Lambo with a big smile on my face. I slid my hand over the hood, and I could of sworn the car almost... shivered. I hopped into the front seat and gripped the steering wheel. On the horn was some kind of symbol I couldn't quite see. I rubbed my hand over the dust to see an odd robotic faced symbol.

Dad came back and we were finally allowed to drive. I flipped the sun visor open and the keys fell out. I turned the ignition and drove off home with Sam on my tail.

I could tell something was different with this car but it's been a weird day, so I shoved the thought in the back of my mind. I just loved my car.

Review please! It makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. :)