These Paths We Tread (Autobot x OC)

II. Heartbreak Warfare

-------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning was bright and sunny, but not too hot according to the news. Breakfast was pancakes and sausages made by her Mom, whom was unusually cheerful along with her father. The dogs were all sweet and playful and didn’t make a fuss on the walk, which was also unusual as Bandit always went ballistic in his attempt to play with the other dogs. The shower felt great, her bathing suit and clothes to go over felt wonderful and fit perfectly, and the seven hours until two o’clock seemed to pass by in seven seconds. All in all, Catherine had a feeling today was going to be a good day. Which a very, very good thing.

“Alright, I’m off! I’ll probably be back late unless, well, otherwise!” she called out from the front door, slinging her small, travel-size camouflage bag over her shoulders.

“Have fun!” was the cry from both her parents, and then she gone. She didn’t bother walking, and instead ran in her low-top shoes down the sidewalk to Sam’s driveway. Not even out of breath, she slowed into the backyard where she found Mr. and Mrs. Witwicky working in their garden. She had to give the husband’s stubbornness credit—it had produced a pretty damn good-looking piece of work. Hell, they even had a fountain and path to go with it.

“Catherine!” his mother cried happily, waving. “Oh just look at you! Wearing actual girl shorts and a slim shirt! Don’t tell me you don’t have bathing suit! I’ll let you borrow one if you don’t though! I have—“

The redhead raised up her hands for her to stop, “Thank-you, Mrs. Witwicky, but I have my suit on underneath it all. And it’s an under-armor shirt by the way, and yes, these are girl soccer shorts.”

“Well, good for you for showing some legs! Those boys will just be all over you!” she cooed, and Catherine was stuck between a mixture of embarrassment and groaning.  She could only thank God that Mrs. Witwicky hadn’t found out she was in love with Sam. She didn’t dare imagine the disasters that would have happened for the past two years if she had. She wasn’t sure if she could have handled it, considering how rash the woman was already with never thinking before she spoke. With a sigh, she started to walk towards them until a loud shout—more like roar—erupted from Mr. Witwicky.

“NOT THE GRASS!” he howled, and Catherine nearly tripped from surprise as the man jabbed his finger at the path. “USE THE PATH! The grass is brand new!”

“Oh! Sorry!” she cried back, making extra effort to not step on the grass as she walked down to the tiled path. “My bad, Mr. Witwicky. It looks amazing by the way. Lovin’ the path.”

“Yeah, I bet,” he grumbled, digging away at the weeds in the garden. “Still wanted to trample all over my hard work, though.”

“I promise not to do it again!” she replied back and then sighed before looking to Mrs. Witwicky for help.

“Oh, don’t worry about him, dear,” she spoke, waving the grumpy man off. “He’ll forget about it, anyways. So what do you think of Sammy’s new car? I know you two took it for a ride yesterday.”

“It’s a smooth ride so long as Sam isn’t driving like a maniac,” Catherine mused sourly. “Could use a bit of tune-up, though, especially since it’s kind of a pollution monster in the back.”

“Yeah, I noticed that. Ron’s too cheap to get a more environment-friendly car, though!” Mrs. Witwicky shouted just loud enough so her husband could hear. The man merely grunted and continued his work, making his wife sigh and shake her head. “That’s men for you. So how long will you be gone and will Miles be coming, too?”

“Party doesn’t really have an end, but I figure I’d bring him home by midnight, and yes, Miles is coming. He’s our sidekick n’ all.”

“Curfew’s at eleven!” Mr. Witwicky, shouted, but his wife scoffed at him.