Chapter 8

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You fought the urge to scratch the plastic on your upper right arm as you walked from the shop. The artist had raised his peiced brows when you payed up front with cash, but didn't question it. You walked over to the yellow sports car parked at the curb. You pulled the drivers-side door open and plopped yourself in the front seat. 

"Thanks for waiting Bee." You spoke clipping the seat belt into place. 

"Not a Problem." The radio crackled, "so what is a tattoo?"

You chuckled breathily as he began to drive off, "The best I can relate it to robot cars is just detailing on your paint job." You shrugged, "Except a tattoo is permanent and hurts to get." 

There was a breif silence which was broken when the radio crackled, "so what's the bandage on your other arm?" 

You paused and took a look at the bloodied brandages poking out just under the sleeve of your t-shirt. Shit. You shook your head slightly running a hand through your hair with a chuckle.

"It's nothing to worry about Bee. I cut myself on something when I went to go see my friend." You reassured 

"Are you sure? I mean it looks like your bleeding a lot..." you smiled at his concerned voice 

"I am completely fine Bee, I'm sure." You smiled at the radio, "Thank you for the concern though. It's appreciated." 

A silence settled in the cap, though it felt heavy and awkward. You clicked your tongue slightly staring out the window. You patted your lap slightly and tapped your foot against the floor of the cab. 

"So..." you spoken rubbing your arm slightly, "Nice day we're having right?"

"Yes..." The radio crackled, "It is nice, I like the weather on earth." 

"Well whats the weather like on your planet?" You asked growing curious 

"Cybertron." He spoke, "It's... it's hard to describe... Well for on thing it doesn't rain."  He chuckles, "the sky is clear, but we're really don't have different temperatures and climates through the planet." He hums, "occasionally we have storms but it's acid." 

You chuckle, "Well on earth we generally don't  have acid rains... most of the time anyway.." you shrugged, "Here the weather isn't too temperamental, but we get our good storms every now and then."

"So What is college anyway?" He asked over the radio, "I've heard it several times before, but never bothered to ask."

You chuckled, "Do you want the sarcastic version or what most baby-boomers will tell you?" 

"Um sarcastic since I don't know what "baby-boomers" are." He replied

You snorted, "you still have quite a bit to learn yet Bee." You sighed and stretched, "Any who, the sarcastic version. Hmm. Let's try pulling all nighters to get work done and while crying and trying not to fail your family while at the same time struggling to keep independence as you are smashed into the concrete with student debt and an apartment to pay for." You chuckled, "It's an experience." 

There was a long pause, "Interesting way to describe something that sounds so spark crushing.." 

You snorted again, "If a spark is the same as a soul then the spark crushing period of time belongs to a schooling called "high school". Everyone that comes out of high school has had to at least have a some what bruised soul." You shrugged, "But that's life." 

"I guess..." you chuckled at the bots reaction 

There was another silence that settled between you, but this time it didn't feel strained and awkward. You hummed and looked back out the window. Your eyes widened as you saw him. He was pearched onto top of a roof and watched as Bee drove passed. His hooded head followed your path as your heart jumped to your throat. Adrenaline began to fill your veins as you turned the rear view mirror to get a better view of the cars behind you. Bee asked if you were all right as you snapped your head around to stare at the dark cars behind you. 

"Bee we can NOT go back to the scrapyard." You spoke turning back around and staring out the windshield 

"What? Why?" He asked growing worried at your franticness 

"Just trust me." You grabbed a hold of the wheel, "Just trust me." 

"....Just trust me..." 

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