I. It Started With a Feeling

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For as long as she could remember, Catherine had been best friends with the awkward boy she’d come to know as Sam Witwicky. There were often jokes between their parents how they’d been friends since the womb, although their parents hadn’t known each other until they’d realized they had kids of the same age only living a few houses from each other. Whatever the case, from the first day they’d met there was no stopping the inevitable sleepovers, parties, rough-housing, tea parties, facing the monster in the closet or under the bed, and the challenges all young kids would face. The tween and teenager years were no different except their duo had become a trio with the inclusion of the blonde-haired Miles— or “hippie” as she liked to call him with all the love of a friend, of course. Still, she and Sam had always been best friends; just the two of them against the world, and hippie-boy to provide backup and distractions.

And now they were older teens in high school, and while some things had change—not that Sam had noticed being the oblivious boy he was—both, or at least Sam, could be safe in knowing that she would still wait for him at the school exit with Miles, especially if that day was the last day of school.

“Do you see him yet?” the blonde-haired boy asked, standing high up on his toes to peer over the throng of student trying to ram their way out as fast as possible, the call of summer strong and enticing to their wild, hormonally controlled teenage nature.

Catherine pushed a red string of hair behind her ear, “No. He’s probably just too busy either crying or pelvic thrusting in the classroom to make it out.”

Miles snickered. She grinned back, shifting out of the way of an impatient student who tried to bowl her over in his dash for freedom. Sam was taking longer than she would have thought, and it worried her. All he’d talked about this week, let alone past month, was about getting his car and how all he needed was an A in all his classes to do so. Unfortunately, not only was his father annoyingly strict and stubborn, the boy wasn’t the smartest. He wasn’t stupid, but he wasn’t an all A student, either. Miles didn’t help at all, but that was where Catherine came in. She was smart and responsible enough to actually study, so she ended up helping him out as best she could. And, as of today, he was assured his car if he could just get an A on his major assignment for History. She’d helped him get all the research on his great-great grandpa and even helped him practice giving his project. Now it was up to him to present it.

Him. Socially awkward Sam.

Shit. I really hope he sucked up, she frowned. She would hate to see him come moping down the hall rather than leaping. She had to admit she was excited about him getting a car, too. It was a hot topic for their teen years, and both were eager to finally get one. Hers she knew wouldn’t come until graduation, but with Sam getting his possibly today they could hitch rides to everywhere, and, well, it would be nice to ride with him.  

“You’ve got the look again.”

Catherine blinked and turned a raised brow at the blonde boy. He smirked, and she scowled as her cheeks warmed.

“Shut-up!” she hissed, and his smirk only widened. When she looked away, though—ears turning red and warm—his smirk fell with a sigh.

“You gotta tell him soon, amigo,” he spoke, and she turned redder. “’Cause you and I both know he doesn’t see it. Which is sad since I did, like, a year ago.”

“Just shut-up, Miles! I’m gunna tell him soon! I just need the right timing!” she huffed.

His smirk returned with a hint of mischief, “Like at the lake party tomorrow?”

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