Nightstreak stared at the passing red mech with the glossy paint varnish, the one chatting jubilantly with a yellow mech, who covered his mouth with a piece of metal and spoke unintelligible electronic beeps and whirls, her helm resting in her hands, a goofy smile sprawled across her faceplate. Her optics traced his vibrant rouge helm, curved chassis, light reflecting from the flawless surface. His kind warm smile and animated eyes captivated her gaze. A harmonious laugh escaped him, a musical sound to her audio receptors. She sighed, gently and softly, sinking lower into her hold.

"So....who ya watching?" Nightstreak lept straight up in the air, optics widening and crying out in surprise. She whirled rapidly, facing the blue femme, who smirked at her with crossed arms.

"N-no one, I-I mean, I'm not watching....huh?" She flashed her an innocent smile, sitting back down on the lunch table bench. Her eyes twitched, looking around the large lunchroom, everywhere but her optics. Liar...

"Your optics say otherwise." She remarked, sliding on the bench next to her. She scanned the room, searching for whoever it could be. Other than the nerds in the corner, she saw nobody that could capture the interest of a femme. Nightstreak looked down, down at the datapad she was sketching on. Messy lines riddled the lit-up screen, but the figure was clear. Realizing who it was she had sketched, she quickly snatched the pad out of her friend's sneaky gaze, tucking it swiftly into her stack of books sitting on the table next to her. Arcee caught the motion and lunged for it. She slapped her servo away.

"Was that him?" She pressed, nudging her shoulder. A bright blue glow spread across her cheekplates, as she tried to curl up into a smaller ball. Her silence confirmed Arcee's thoughts. A sly smile spreads across her faceplate. "That was him, LEMME SEE!!" She leaned across the table, reaching towards the stack of books. Nightstreak leaned away, clinging onto the stack.

"Nuuu, keep away!! KEEP AWAY!!" She shrieked. A low beep sounded through the intercom, signaling the end of lunch. Nightstreak took this opportunity to jump up, still clinging to the books. "Well, would ya look at that, it's time for combat training. Haha, I can't be late, Mr. Dolan would kill me. I gotta go." She scurried through the door, leaving Arcee to scheme on how she was going to get her hands on that datapad. Of her best friend was in love with someone, she would find out who that was.

~~~
Nightstreak shoved past the crowds of students, through the archway of the combat training room, just as the bell rang once more. Mr: Dolan, a large mech with dark blue and lime green armor, looked up from his datapad, just as the femme scurried in.

"Ms. Nightstreak, you're lucky the bell didn't ring a second earlier, or else that would have been your 5th tardy." The room echoed with chuckles from the class as she muttered an apology, and set her books on an empty seat and scurried onto the wooden gym floors. She snapped into position along the line of other students, between two tall gruff mechs. She felt like an ant compared to the jocks. She just had a second to catch her breath, just as Mr. Dolan wandered to the front of the class.

"Ok, guys, today, we're going to be training with electrical staffs." the classroom erupted into cheers and whoops from the bots, who were excited to finally use a real weapon. Nightstreak shrunk down; she rather not be electrocuted. A gruff clearing of the throat brought the class to attention. "But before that, we have to introduce a new student. He's just come of age to join. All pairs of optics jumped to the doorway, where the new student stood. Nightstreak lept up and down, trying to peer over the large mech's armor that blocked her view, to no avail. She could only see a shiny glimmer of red. As the student walked to the front of the class, her spark stopped.

Oh no...it's him.

A light blue glow appeared over her cheekplates as his entire frame came into view. If Arcee knew, she would never let it go.

"Everyone, this is Knockout."

So that's his name. Knockout. The word repeated over and over again in her mind, but before she knew it, he was walking towards her. She turned into a statue, as he slid into the spot next to her. A nice scent filled her olfactory receptors; it was a nice blend of fresh paint and a sweet smell. She tried to avoid looking at him, but her optics couldn't help but creep up to his helm. He was so handsome...

Her helm snapped down so suddenly, it could've have fallen off. She stared at the floor but could feel his gaze.

"Nightstreak, would you care to come up and demonstrate?" She jumped as the sudden voice pierced her thoughts. She looked up at the teacher, who was holding out a staff, a second one in his servo. "The Chassis Lock." She took a nervous step forward. All optics were on her, including his. The pressure was weighing down on her, stealing her breath.

"U-um, why me?" She squeaked, grasping the staff. Her servos shook, dropping the staff. She quickly picked it up, fumbling clumsily.

"Because, if you were paying attention, you would be able to do it." She turned slowly to face the teacher, grasping the staff, and getting into position.

It wasn't like she didn't know how to do it; she often practiced with a wooden staff outside of school the very same move. But this was against a real person, the teacher, none the less. She took a deep breath, closing her optics. She heard the faint buzzing as the electricity at the end of the staff came to life.

Breathe....

She jerked the staff upwards, blocking the other from coming down on her helm. The teacher's optics widened; he clearly wasn't expecting that. All the worry that once held her back melted away, replaced by a smirk.

"Oh, you haven't seen anything yet."

Steadying her position, she lunged for the mech, grasping his shoulder armor as she sailed over him. She twirled as she landed, swinging the staff towards him. He jumped back, the sparks just narrowly missing his chassis. In the process, he stabbed the staff forward, hoping to get her. She lept out of the way and stabbed her staff forward.

It missed him by an inch. Or not. As it flew past his armor, she jerked it slightly to the right.

The points collided with him, and a shock flew through his system.

She had won.

The classroom erupted into cheers. It wasn't often a student could beat a teacher, especially Mr. Dolan. She looked around, jubilantly, as bots clapped and whooped, skillfully avoiding the red bot's gaze. She flushed with embarrassment and scurried back to her spot in line. She bought she couldn't see it, she could tell he was looking at her. Her spark raced at the thought, but cut off as the teacher called the class back into attention, announcing the exercises for the period.

"The person next to you will be your partner." Nightstreak froze, and stiltedly turned to look at the bot. He was looking the other way, chatting jubilant with the femme to his right.

"Oh...." She has to admit, she was a bit jealous, but hey, there was a smaller chance of embarrassing herself in front of him.

She turned to her left. The mech there was chatting with the bot to his left. Slowly, the class began to disperse, partners slowly wandering to the closet where the staffs were located. She glanced around.

She was the only one without a partner. Typical.

It happened every day. She was hoping that with a new student joining, there'd at least be an even amount. Nope. In order for one student to join, another had to drop out.

She was always....always the odd one out.

Sighing, she grasped her arms. She was used to this empty feeling inside. It was like everyone knew.

Like they all knew she didn't belong in this class.

A 15 year-old sophomore didn't belong in a senior class.

She wasn't even old enough. A lie was her ticket in. The truth was her kick out.

"Um... Mr. Dolan, sir?" She stammered. He looked up from his work, and sighed, seeing her all alone.

"Nightstreak, again?" She nodded solemnly. He sighed once more. "Well, it's clear you know the move. Why don't you practice some original moves, on your own?" She smiled at him and nodded.

The second he looked away, it faded into a frown.

She shuffled stiltedly onto the gym floor, keeping her head down. All around her, partners were sparring with one another, the battle grunts filling the room. Some weren't doing too well; one partner kept dropping the staff while the other couldn't seem to get their staff to work. She couldn't help but crack a smile at the struggling bots.

Her smile was cut off as the butt of a staff stabbed her in the side, pushing her into a shelf mounted on the wall. Cans of paint came crashing down, all over her, as she stumbled to the ground. The cans clattered on the floor, the paint dripped all over her.

The entire room fell silent. Nightstreak could see every single pair of optics ogling at her, wide smiles appearing on nearly every face plates, and she wanted to shrink, to disappear. The stares burned into her armor, dented her metal. 

It all started with a chuckle. A short heartless chuckle that rose from someone on the crowd. It flipped a switch. Then another. And another. The grins slowly widened, and the class erupted into laughter. Long mocking laughter.  No one cared that this was the femme that had beat the teacher at a match. No one cared that she could easily best them all. No one cared that it was simply heartless. No one cared. They just laughed.

Only one mech didn't laugh.

"Oh my gosh, I am SO SO sorry."

"No no no, not you." The cherry mech stepped forward, reaching his servo out towards her.

"Are you ok?" She deliberately held her helm low. However, slowly, much against her side of logic, she raised it so he could see.

So he could see the tears streaming down her green-painted cheeks.

His optics widened. "Oh, no, it's my fault. I'm so incredibly sorry." He inched his servo closet, but she slapped it away.

"What's going on here?" Mr. Dolan shoves through the crowd, pausing when he saw the scene displayed in front of him. "Oh dear, Nightstreak why don't you go clean up. Then, I suggest you get back here and clean this mess."

"B-but..." She choked, but was cut off.

"Now, before I change my mind and make you clean it up now." She swallowed her sob, and stood up swiftly, not even bothering to look up.

"Um....Mr. Dolan, if I may, this was my fault, not hers." She didn't look up as Knockout stepped forward. "I should be the one to clean up the mess, not her."

"I appreciate your honesty, Knockout, but seeing as Nightstreak is the one dripping with paint, it leads me to conclude that she is the one who knocked the shelf off the wall. Knockout opened his mouth to argue, then decided against it. "Now everybody, back to work." The teacher walked away, as the crowd slowly dispersed. Gazes were still shot her way. Slowly, she started towards the door.

"Hey! Wait." She only began to walk faster at the voice, crossing her arms. He trotted forward, blocking her path. "I'm really really sorry." He pleaded, but she only jerked her head away.

"Leave me alone." She whimpered, shoving past him and out the door, leaving him there, helplessly watching a she ran for the wash racks.
~~~
Turns out that wasn't any ordinary paint, but quick-dry heavy duty paint. By the time she had reached the bathroom, the pink, yellow, green, and blue splotches littering her had dried up. The hardest scrubbing yielding the smallest amount of progress. She was in there for 30 minutes even after the bell rang, signaling the end of the day. Even then, she hadn't managed to get nearly half the paint off. She still looked like she had been bathing in rainbows.

She pooped her head out of the bathroom door, scanning the hallway. No one in sight. Good. She didn't want anybody to see her like this. Cautiously, she scurried down the hallway, and into the classroom. Mr. Dolan looked up from his desk.

"The brush is over there. I took the liberty of remounting the shelf, you're welcome." Nightstreak muttered a 'thank you' and shuffled to the janitorial closet.

It took her the entire afternoon to clear the paint. By the time she was polishing the last bit of floor, her optic-lids felt heavy and she was yawning profoundly.

Mr. Dolan has left her an hour ago: he didn't want to wait. She was all alone. Sighing, she stood up, admiring her work. You couldn't even tell there had ever been an accident there.
Sighing, she picked up her stacks of books and datapad, hugging them close to her chest. It brought comfort to her, to hold something, to hug something. A single tear trickled down her cheek, which she wiped away immediately. Taking a deep breath, she began to walk towards the exit.

Her ped steps were loud compared to the long empty halls that echoed. They went on and on like  water dripping from a faucet. The lights were off; the dark corridor was lit up by only the occasional emergency light. They seemed like something out of a horror movie, and she half expected a creature to jump out of the shadows and devour her whole. As she pressed her servo to the exit door handle and pushed, she was met with the cool Cybertronian air. Breathing deeply, she took a step forward.

"Hello." The smooth voice startled her, throwing the feet below her out. Her books flew up, and hit the ground, her following. She groaned, robbing her helm. "Oh, sorry, sorry. I did it again, didn't I?" She looked up, and her frown deepened. She turned her head away from the hand that was offered to her, sliding onto her knees. She bent forward, and began gathering her books. It was silent outside; the city was in recharge. "Here, please, let me help you." A servo gently landed on hers, the one grabbing a data pad. It felt warm and soft on hers; it was aching and throbbing from scrubbing so much. She gasped quietly, and looked up. His deep alluring crimson eyes captured her golden pink ones, locking them in a cage, refusing to release them. She could feel her cheeks burning up as her optics were lost in the space that were his optics. He looked at her with wonder; optics wide and faceplate blue. Their faceplates were only inches apart, the warm breath of each other tickling them. His helm neared hers, then paused. His optic ridges furrowed. "Y-your optics...." His soft voice snapped her out of her trance, and she jerked her helm away rapidly, snatching her datapad out of his hold. She stood up rapidly, glaring down at him. 

"What are you doing here?" She asked, her voice low. She hugged her stuff to her chassis, looking away. He sighed, standing up. 

"Waiting for you."  She tensed up, and whirled suddenly, dropping her books. Her optics ridges furrowed down deep, and optics narrowed. 

"ExCUSE me?!" She shrieked, staring up at him. "I do NOT need anybody waiting for me!" 

"I-I didn't mean that...I...mean...." He shrank down slightly as she rose up to her tip peds, jabbing her digit at him. She was fuming now, storming towards him. 

" I DON'T need anybody looking after me, thank you very MUCH, Mister." 

"I..I just felt bad, that's all..." 

"AND I DON'T need anybody to feel BAD about ME!!" She snapped. She struggled to inhale, coughing and fighting through the sobs that broke through. "So why don't you take your PERFECT PAINT JOB and LEAVE ME ALONE!!!"  Her voice cracked. The last sentence was all sobs. Tears were now streaming down her face. She panted and wheezed for air. She couldn't get enough. She was choking. Her body relaxed, and she began stepping backwards. 

"No, no, please, not an attack, not now. "  Her servos were shaking now; she was staring at them with blurred vision. Her vents began to ache. Her helm felt like air. 

"Hey...hey, are you ok?" He took a step forward, but jerked backwards suddenly as she held her arm out to stop him in his tracks. 

"Stay...right there....." She panted. Each inhale was getting harder and harder, causing her entire frame to shake. "P-please..." She gasped, and suddenly, as quickly as her fury had started, her vents clogged, not a single stream of air now entered her frame. Frantically, she dropped to her knees, searching through her books. 

"Come on, come on, please, where is it?" 

He was staring at her, worry painted upon his faceplate. "You're not ok, are you?" She didn't hear him. She was too occupied throwing book after book aside, searching and searching. 

"It has to be here it has to be here!!"  She was shaking violently, As hard as she tried to vent, nothing came in, nothign went out. Her shaking fumbling servos wouldn't work the way she wanted them to. Her arms suddenly turned into jelly, and her chin hit the cement. Her optics stung, but they reluctantly were forced open. Her optics focused on the dark Cybertronian city that glimmered with lights that reminded her of stars. Her optics landed on something gray and red. 

"That's it."  Painfully, she willed her arm to reach forward, but it wouldn't move. It just wouldn't move. Her optics closed; she prepared to fall to her fate. This was it. This was her final resting place. She could feel her vents begin to grow numb. Offlining in front of a stranger, well, wasn't that a way to go? The darkness in her optics were sliced by a light. A dim light. A light that grew brighter and brighter. She was ready. 

"Open." The command was so strange, so ignorable, she obeyed without question. "Inhale." She did. "Hold it and...breathe." She exhaled. 

And the darkness returned. 

~~~

Knockout stared at the femme on the ground, shaking and curled up on the hard ground. Gasping, he kneeled down next to her, tilting her chin up. He recognized this, and he knew how to save her. He grabbed the inhaler, and tilted her chin up. She wasn't responding. He took a deep breath, and leaned forward. 

"Open." He murmured, to his delight, she obeyed. 

"Ok, ok. This is working."  He grabbed the inhaler, and entered the spout into her mouth. "Inhale." As she breathed in, he pressed the button at the top. A low puff sound came from the device, and he could smell the medicine. Gently, he closed her mouth. "Hold it and..." He silently counted to ten. "...breathe." A faint breath escaped her parted lips. Immediately, the shaking stopped, her body seemed to relax. He breathed a sigh of relief, thanking his medical courses. Slowly, her optics blinked open. 

"Wh...wha...." 

"You had an Venthamatic reaction. Slowly, carefully. Don't exert yourself." She sat up with his helo. She took a deep breath of the cool Cybotronian air. The stinging had subsided by now. Her servo was clenched overtop her spark. She was still in shock. Has she really almost....offlined? 

"How did you..." She tried to ask, but was cut off by panting. 

"I take medical courses. I don't even go to this school. I just visit for Combat Class, which is why it's my last period." He sighed. "Are you ok?" 

"I..." She paused, and her optics widened with realization. "I....have to go." She pushed herself back, away from his, crawling to her knees. 

"Now....wait...." 

"I have to go!" She shakily scooped up her books and datapads, springing up to her peds. She looked down at the kneeling mech, who stared up at her with disappointment. 

"W...wait, you can't go! I need to make sure you're...ok." He trailed off as she ran down the stairs leading up to the school, and hurried across the parking lot. He watched as she disappeared into the city, tripping over her own peds. 

"That femme is going to offline herself." He fiddled nervously with his digits. His optics scanned his servos. His mind was running in so many directions. This femme was intriguing. She acted as if nothing had just happened, and it was so strange. His mind stopped all of a sudden. He had landed on a decision, one that landed to a promise. One he vowed to keep "Which just means I'm going to have to look after her." 

~~~

Nightstreak ran, panting, shoving through the crowds of bots that shouted and complained. She was hugging her books tight, tears filled her eyes. Dried paint cracked all over her armor. People stared as she ran. It was trully an odd sight to see. She ran and pushed and shoved. She panted and gasped. She fought and pleaded. She whirled suddenly, sliding into an alleyway. Her breath gave way, and she leaned up against the filthy building wall, panting. Her optics stinging, tears brimmed over, and trickled down her faceplate. She fell down, burying her helm into her hands.

"H-he wasn't...he wasn't supposed to know." She whimpered. Who was she kidding; no one was listening. No one ever listened. With blurry vision, she looked around at her home. A  shaggy cardboard box with a raggy sheet draped over the opening was gently placed up against the wall next to her. And...that was it. That was her home. 

Sighing, she crawled into the box. It was a small cramped space, where she had to slouch to fit, but it was the only home she had known for the longest time. Just having the school books made her so lucky. It was the most lucky she had ever been, in fact.  

A sharp artic gust of air pierced her armor, making her shiver. Shaking, she grabbed  the sheet and draped it over her frame. Not that it helped. Denta chattering, she curled up into a ball in the corner, closing her optics. 

Unknoest to her, at the entrance of the alleyway, 3 pairs of optics glared at the box. Three selfish grins slid onto their faceplates. It wasn't easy to resist; it would have to wait until tomorrow. But they just couldn't wait to get their next target. 

~~~

TO BE CONTINUED.