𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 ━ transformers

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

I see the cop again on Monday, before I go to my I.T. internship at Gravity Technologies. Before I head to the office, I decide to grab a coffee from a quaint cafe at the end of the block.

When I exit, the warm beverage curling heat through my gloved fingers, he is on his way in, his uniform on. He does not wear a hat today, and his brown hair is longer than I would have expected, gray hairs streaking through it.

"Miss Cambridge," he greets, black eyes wide with surprise. "What a coincidence. I didn't know you liked Early Risers."

I shrug, gesticulating with the hand that holds the coffee. "It's my first time trying it, so I can't really say I like it."

He smiles that odd smile again, and says, "Trust me, you will." And then he departs with a goodbye and a casual, "Have a good day."

I stare at his back for longer than necessary then briskly walk the couple of meters to the giant building of Gravity Technologies, sipping on the vanilla soy latte that I bought. He was right. The coffee is amazing, not too bitter, not too weak. A perfect blend.

✦

The internship is easier than the one at the high school. I'm good with art, but the steady patterns of the algorithms and codings are comforting to me. I work on software for the entirety of the day, my supervisor fine to allow me to be by myself, and at the end of the work day, he writes my report down and gives the sheet to me.

On Tuesday, I stop by Early Risers again, unsurprised when Officer Cade is in line behind me.

"Good morning, Eleanor," he greets cooly.

"Morning, Officer Cade," I say politely. Inside, I find his behavior odd. I understand that he recognizes me, but not even the cops in my town greet me like him and they've been around me for years.

I turn around in the line, and Officer Cade doesn't try to make any more conversation. He does wave at me on my way out, his face impassive. I hurry my steps, certain that I can feel someone staring at me, despite no one being there when I turn around.

✦

On Wednesday, I am on the phone with Ron, and he's telling me about how the twins have learned how to make explosives.

"That doesn't sound like a bad thing," I argue. Explosives help in war. At least they'll be prepared should they ever find themselves in a bind.

"It certainly is," he says haughtily. "They've destroyed half the personnel with their senseless activities. Soot has been stuck to me no matter how hard I try to scrub it out."

I imagine big, macho Ron, soot covered on his rather rugged face while he tries to scrub it off. The thought makes me smile.

"Well, you could always use that new plasma cannon you made and threaten them with bodily harm," I say, chuckling. "Sounds a lot like something you would do."

"The desire is not unfamiliar," Ron grumbles. "But Optimus would never allow me to."

"Does he even have to know?"

"Rebelling against authorities, Eleanor?" Ron asks, sounding bemused. "I did not believe you to have the heart."

"A hangar is in danger of being demolished, I'd say it calls for some undermining," I argue.

Ron's gravelly chuckle is staticky when it comes through the phone. The action warms my heart, brings a grin to my face.

"I shall think about it. Ratchet will be most displeased with this change of character. There is no doubt that he will blame me for your defiance."