First Period

There was a pen attached to the clipboard. Not the original one, of course. No, that pen was long gone, replaced by one that was held in place by a piece of string and large amounts of scotch tape. The tape was peeling, and Sam picked at it as he tried to decide what to write. The first period late sheet wasn't something he had a lot of experience with. It seemed pretty pointless, since he'd already checked in at the office anyway. The teacher's glare convinced him that arguing about it would be equally pointless, and he looked back at the paper.

The blank spaces stared back at him. What was the date? Sam hadn't looked at a calendar in days. He thought he might have hopped time zones once or twice during the whole... weekend thing, and Captain Lennox's team only used military time -- which would have been confusing even if they hadn't been using Qatar military time. Sam just copied what the person before him had written, and hoped it was right. At least the next two sections were easy. Name: Sam Witwicky. Time In: He squinted at the clock on the other side of the room, trying to read past the glare of the morning sun. 8: ...15ish. Close enough. Reason For Being Tardy: The space was really too small to write, "I had a huge argument with my parents about driving my now amazingly hot car to school, in which they said lots of things that started with 'But Sam...'and Bumblebee refused to act like anything but a completely normal car." Ultimately, his parents had let him go, because he'd already missed the bus, and all their other cars were still in the hands of some government agency or another.

After some consideration, Sam wrote "slept late," and made his way to his seat.

Second Period

There were only two classes that Sam didn't share with Mikaela on Mondays, and they both happened early in the morning. Just another reason to hate Mondays, as far as he was concerned. Sam stared out the window and tapped his pen absently against the spiral binding of his notebook.

He wasn't sure Mikaela was even at school, really. They had avoided talking about anything school-related over the weekend, which had seemed like a great idea at the time, but wasn't seeming so smart in the harsh light of high school reality. Were they even officially dating? Friends? Allowed to talk to each other in the hall?

"Hey Sam!" Sam jumped at the words and turned to see Miles sliding into the seat next to him. "Man, where were you this weekend? I must've called you five times! Did you lose your phone again or something?"

Sam wondered where his phone was at that exact moment. He wondered how many government agents had listened to Miles' messages. He wished he had thought to come up with some plausible explanation for everything that had happened over the weekend. Or any explanation at all, really, that didn't involve giant bio-mechanical aliens fighting each other in Colorado. "Yeah," he said finally. "I'm not sure what happened to my phone, but I've got no idea where it is."

"Bummer," Miles said sympathetically. "Your dad must be ripped, huh?"

Sam nodded in a vague sort of way, but actually, his dad was being pretty cool about the phone thing -- certainly better than his mom was handling the trampling of her lawn. Ratchett was supposed to be making some kind of super-phones for everyone, and the promise of a free -- and free to use -- phone was keeping Sam's dad appeased. If only there was a way to make him get over the whole "police arrest" thing too. Thank god he didn't know exactly what had happened in Colorado; he never would've let Sam out of the house again.

When class started, Sam went back to looking out the window. If Mikaela decided to ditch school, he hoped she took him with her.

Third Period

Mikaela was furious. She couldn't believe Sam ditched school without her! All the first period gossip had featured the yellow Camaro that had appeared in the school parking lot just after 8. No one seemed to know who it belonged to, and Mikaela didn't volunteer any information. Secretly, she'd been relieved that Sam had come to school at all. If she'd been the one with a sentient car, she would have been far, far away.

But Sam was different -- or at least that's what she had thought, until she'd heard in the bathroom that the mystery car had mysteriously disappeared. No way was she going through this day by herself. If Sam got to leave, then she did too. Mikaela was already planning her escape when she walked into the science classroom.

And saw Sam sitting at a lab bench near the back. He looked exhausted, and she walked towards him without thinking. Then stopped.

Mikaela knew she was holding up the flow of traffic, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something important was about to happen. She knew there was a whole world out there, outside of the forced community of high school, but it was high school she was stuck with, at least for the next two years. The events of the weekend had no place in that community, and now she was going to have to choose -- was she the Mikaela she'd been last Friday, or the person who'd driven into a war zone less than 24 hours ago?

Then again, maybe she was overreacting. After all, giant alien transforming robot-cars had spent the weekend on a giant treasure hunt across the planet. Plus, two seniors were talking about getting married over winter break, and she'd just heard that the former AD was suing the school for unfair termination. Surely there were more interesting things to gossip about than Mikaela Banes and Sam Witwicky sitting together during science class.

Someone bumped into her from behind, and she instinctively moved to the side. "Sorry," the boy offered, already walking past. He looked familiar, but she was terrible with names.

"Sorry," she said back. "My fault." Sam looked up when she spoke. Their eyes locked from across the room, and he just watched her. No greeting or wave, and the look in his eyes made her think that Sam was just as unsure as she was. It was up to her, then, to decide what happened next.

She walked decisively to the back of the room and dropped her backpack next to his. "Hey," she said. "I'm still glad I got in the car, you know."

Sam grinned and looked relieved. "I'm glad," he said. "It's good to see you. You look great."

Mikaela rolled her eyes. "Yeah right. Did you know your car is missing?"

"What?!" Sam looked startled, then seemed to remember that there was no way Bumblebee was going to let anyone just drive off with him.

Mikaela repeated what she'd heard in the bathroom, and Sam grumbled. "I thought you'd skipped out," she told him.

"I wanted to, believe me," Sam said. "Of course, now that I have no car, it's a lot harder." He sounded annoyed, and Mikaela smiled.

"Wanna bet?"

Fourth Period & Lunch

"I can't believe you've never cut class before."

"I can't believe you've skipped fourth period eight times already this year." Sam replied without thinking, and then hastily reviewed his comment at Mikaela's startled look. He winced. "Sorry, was that too stalker-ish?"

"It's kind of nice, actually," Mikaela said. "I never figured anyone was paying that much attention." She laughed, and Sam hoped that was a good sign. "How many times have I missed history?"

Sam blushed. "Only twice."

"Yeah, well, if Ms. Rattner took attendance every day, I probably wouldn't miss her class much either."

They were walking on what appeared to be a fairly well-used path through the woods behind the school. Sam was pretty sure they were headed in the opposite direction of downtown; other than that he was happy to let Mikaela lead. When the trees opened up, he was astounded to see that they were within a stone's throw of Mikaela's house. "Whoa," he said, looking at the house, and then staring suspiciously at the path behind them. "How'd we get here?"

"It's called a shortcut, Sam," Mikaela told him. "Do you want lunch or not?" She led the way into her house, unlocking the front door and explaining as she went. "My mom works all day, so no one's home right now. You like peanut butter, right?"

"Sure, yeah. Peanut butter's good. Can I help?" It seemed rude to just sit and wait, but ruder still to start rummaging through drawers, so Sam hovered uncertainly by the table.

"Drinks are in the fridge," Mikaela offered. Drinks were easy, Sam thought. He opened the refrigerator door. Bottled water, milk, soda, ...juice boxes?

"Juice boxes?" he asked, before he could think better of it.

"There's a lot of kids in the neighborhood," Mikaela said. "They come over, and juice boxes are a lot easier than washing a lot of glasses." Sam nodded his understanding and went back to perusing the drink options. "Actually, could you toss me one of the orange ones?" Mikaela added. "We always get the variety packs, and then we're left with all these orange ones that no one likes."

Sam grabbed two "Outrageous Orange" juice boxes and carried them to the table. At Mikaela's questioning look, he said, "Hey, you're never too old for juice boxes, right?"

Lunch was crunchy peanut butter spread on cinnamon raisin bread, and washed down with orange-colored juice (not to be confused with juice that actually came from oranges). They sat on the porch in companionable silence until Mikaela asked, "So what's with the sweatshirt?"

Sam groaned. "It's hideous, isn't it?" The sweatshirt in question had been a gift, and was a particularly awful shade of green. "It was the only clean thing I had that I didn't have to put on over my head," he said.

Mikaela nodded. "Yeah, I get that. I couldn't believe how sore I was this morning. Going to the gym's not quite the same as running for your life, I guess." She tugged the hem of her blouse. "No button-downs?"

"I have a couple," Sam said, grimacing. "But I never wear them, and I figured this would make my parents less suspicious. They don't have a really clear picture of what happened this weekend, and I'd like to keep it that way." Plus he wasn't sure either of his white dress shirts would have done a good enough job of hiding his bruises. He'd hit the ground more times than he could count over the weekend, and even though the Autobots had managed to keep him from hitting it from too high up, their metal hands weren't much more forgiving, and his back was pretty spectacularly black and blue. As were his arms, and his ribs, and his legs.

Mikaela frowned at him. "Are you okay?" she asked.

How did she do that? Sam didn't even bother trying to lie. "I'm just a little banged up," he said. "Some bruises, that's all. They look worse than they are." Not worse than they felt, he added silently, but they weren't going to kill him. Mikaela was still frowning. "I'm fine," Sam insisted, and a brief staring match ensued. Sam broke eye contact first. "Ratchett looked me over," he muttered. "He says I'm okay."

To his surprise, Mikaela laughed. "I should have known Bumblebee would look out for you," she said. Then she leaned over and kissed his cheek. "My hero. Wounded and everything. But still strong enough to carry our dishes back inside, right?"

Sam grinned and hammed it up. "Of course," he said. "Anything for you, fair lady."

Mikaela laughed again. "Come on, I'll get you some Advil and another juice box." Sam was feeling better already.

Periods 5 & 6: Block Period

Thank god for block scheduling. And for teachers who thought subtitled foreign films were the perfect way to expose students to language plus culture in one easy package. And especially for whatever student had convinced the teacher that turning all the lights off would "really cut down on the glare on the screen."

Mikaela had her elbows on her desk, and her chin propped in her hands. That way her face was at least pointed towards the front of the classroom, even though her eyes were closed. Sam had simply put his head down on his desk, and she could hear him snoring quietly. He was down for the count, so she was trying to stay mostly awake -- that way she could wake him up when the movie was over.

She dozed on and off, only to jerk fully awake when her elbow slipped. The teacher was still at his desk. It looked like he was actually watching the movie, unlike most of the class. Sam was still asleep at the desk next to her -- as was most of the back row, she noticed. The movie must be really boring.

Mikaela shifted slightly in her seat so she could more easily stare at Sam instead of the tv screen. As she did, she realized someone was watching her. It was the guy who'd shown up at the lake with Sam -- Mike? Mark? -- and she stared back at him. Finally, he grinned and gave her a thumbs-up. She smiled tentatively back, and he slouched down in his chair, turning his eyes back towards the television. Huh, she thought. Was that good?

Seventh Period

Last period. Finally. If they could make it through the next 50 minutes, the day would be over, with the promise of a barbecue at the Lennox's house -- a sort of one day reunion for everyone who'd been thrown together over the weekend. Of course, there was still the small issue of Sam's car, but Mikaela was willing to bet that Bumblebee would be back in the parking lot by the time the bell rang. School was boring enough when you were sitting in class -- she couldn't imagine how boring it would be to sit in the parking lot all day.

But before that, they had to get through the period. Apparently Mr. Hosney's warning of a pop quiz hadn't been an empty threat; there was a piece of paper turned face down on every desk. It looked short, which could be either good or bad. If it was too short, they'd probably have to start the next unit to fill the time till the end of class. Mikaela really didn't want to have to take notes on whatever "exciting" historical moment Mr. Hosney decided to focus on next. On the other hand, if the quiz was too long, there was a good chance she wouldn't do very well on it. It wasn't like she'd had a lot of time to study over the weekend.

She was in luck. Two short answers and an essay later, Mikaela was on to the bonus questions. The first one said, "World news matters. Describe a newsworthy event that happened somewhere other than the United States in the last five days." Mikaela hesitated. It seemed wrong somehow, to reduce life and death to points on a history quiz, but she couldn't think of anything else. Sending a silent apology to Captin Lennox and his team, she wrote, "Last Friday, a US military base in Qatar was attacked and destroyed. It hasn't been reported who was responsible for the attack." And it probably never would be, she added to herself.

With three minutes to go, Mikaela moved on to the last question. "Write one thing you learned about a classmate from their personal history project." This time there was no hesitation. Mikaela wrote, "I learned that Sam Witwicky is the bravest person I know."