Flicking a wood shaving off of his jacket, Rafael jammed his hands deeper into his pockets as he trekked across the campus. Word had it that someone—probably Jackson—had tried to burn the school down last night. Although school was a complete bore, Rafael didn't want to see it destroyed quite yet. He was just waiting for the Autobots to blow their cover and, consequently, blow up Jasper. Nothing happened in this Pit of a town, so why not wipe it off the face of the Earth? What were a few human lives compared to the end of a war?

Most days, the boy could tolerate the idiots he was forced to share a species with.

Other days, he would have been glad to watch this planet burn.

He kicked a pebble at the wall of the school, anxious for the day to be over so that he could get back to his carvings. Twirling his pen in one hand, he walked over to retrieve the pebble. It was rather pretty—rosy with threads of white running through it. He'd have to put it with the rest of his collection when he got home.

"Hey, emo-goth!" called an unfortunately familiar voice. Mikoto was perched atop the school's eagle statue, her heels kicking against the well-worn granite. No one dared tell her to get down, as no one dared face her cold, quiet anger if they ticked her off in the process. "When are you going to get your head out of the clouds?"

Pocketing the pebble, he walked over to her. Several students stepped to the side as he made his way to the foot of the statue. "The same day you stop being such a little glitch."

She clicked her tongue, crossing her legs and clasping her hands together in her lap. "Oh, Rafael," she murmured, pouting at him. "I may be a glitch, but I need you to remember which one of us has half the adults in this hellhole wrapped around their little finger." A smirk played on her lips, and she leaned forward so that she could loom over him. "All I need to say is that you threatened me, and you'll be suspended faster than you can blink."

"And I need you to remember which one of us is carrying the knife," he snapped. One quick movement and he could drive the blade deep into her thigh, just missing the femoral artery. After all, if she bled out, who was he going to trade insults with? Jackson was no good for anything like that; the nervous teenager would simply curl up and shrink in on himself. Goldbug couldn't comprehend earthen insults, so he was useless in yet another respect. The rest of the Autobots would rather blast him than indulge him.

Mikoto frowned. As a teacher passed behind her, she whipped around, tears in her eyes, biting the inside of her lower lip. The teacher stopped and asked if she was alright. She pointed at Rafael. "He has a knife, and he- he threatened to stab me!" she hiccupped pathetically.

What a surprise. He felt his fingers move to tear the top off of his pen and reveal the sharp blade inside, but he held himself back. Maybe he could flip this around and get the Exchange Student in trouble. "I don't even have my carving knives today!" He took his backpack off and marched up the steps to stand beside the teacher, holding it out to him. Wisely, though, he kept the ballpoint pen knife in his hand. "Go on, look. You won't find anything."

The older man rifled through it, pulling out folders and loose papers and scrabbling around at the bottom of the backpack. For a moment, Rafael wished he had put a knife in there—just so the teacher could grab the blade by accident and cut his hand open. It served him right for being one of Mikoto's playthings. "I'm sorry, Miss Nakadai," the teacher said at last, "there doesn't seem to be any kind of knife here."

Mikoto's eyes narrowed, but she quickly recovered and said that she might have been mistaken in who exactly threatened her.

"So, can I go now?"

Seated at the base of an old tree, Rafael hummed almost happily as he finished carving the figure. He put down his knife, admiring the piece from all different angles. Every detail was perfect, down to the pleated skirt and the headband.

Yes, he had carved a figurine of Mikoto.

No, he still did not like her.

It was just a thing he did; whenever he considered himself friends or enemies with someone, he made a figurine of them, an exact scale model down to the last detail. Depending on what he considered the person to be, he either damaged and stabbed the figurine until it was well beyond recognition or kept it on a shelf in his bedroom for safekeeping. Right now, he wasn't sure what he was going to do with this one. Mikoto wasn't exactly his enemy, but she sure as hell wasn't his friend.

So why had he made the figurine?

For one of the first times in his short life, he didn't know the answer to that question.

"Let me put it this way, you son of a glitched motherboard, I despise you, and I hope the feeling is mutual," he snarled at the Autobot, punctuating the statement by slashing his carving knife across the dashboard. The leather tore open, and Goldbug swerved so that Rafael slammed into the side door since he had refused to wear a seatbelt. Rubbing his head where it had hit the window, the boy glowered at the display panel. "I don't even know why Optimus paired us together. We're nothing alike."

Goldbug clicked and whirred in agreement, accelerating to throw Rafael back in his seat as they sped through the desert towards the base. As soon as they were inside, he braked, sending the human into the dashboard with enough force, the Autobot hoped, to break one of his ribs.

Before he could transform, Rafael practically kicked the door open and stomped off to the catwalk. He turned around once he had ascended the ladder, throwing a rock at Goldbug's helm.

The Autobot chirped angrily in response and picked up the rock, miming throwing it.

"What's my problem?" Rafael demanded. He scoffed, crossing his arms. "I'm not the one who spent the entire way here trying to kill someone!" At Goldbug's immediate rebuttal, he retorted, "Oh, right, like cut leather on your dashboard is anything more than cosmetic damage. That coming from the one who nearly cracked my ribs. Real funny, half-clock."

A disappointed whirr left Goldbug's vocorder. He had been eager to cause some injury beyond bruising this time.

The boy plopped down on the couch, snatching a figurine of the black and yellow scout from his backpack. Pulling out his carving knife, he began to stab it again and again as he muttered curses under his breath. After a minute of this, he seemed satisfied and put the carving away. He then moved on to an unmarked block, dragging the knife through the wood and brushing the shaving away as if he'd done this a thousand times.

"Going to kill that damn idiot," he muttered, feeling his anger bubbling in the back of his throat. He wanted to break something and throw a tantrum like a child, but he restrained himself. It wasn't befitting of someone his age. At last frustrated enough that he decided it didn't matter anymore, he hurled the block across the catwalk, howling incomprehensibly in Spanish. He stood, whipping around to face the Autobots, his eyes catching like flint. His knife was clutched in his left hand, and he held it out in front of him as he hissed a threat under his breath.

Seemingly bored by the human's little tirade, Smokescreen strode over, nonchalantly grabbed him by the back of his shirt, tossed him into an open closet, and slammed the door shut.

Inside, Rafael screamed himself hoarse, pounding on the walls and kicking the door until he ached all over. Finally, he collapsed and curled into a ball. This always happened. He would start on a new carving and then he would lose control, his mind clouding with anger and frustration. He would thrash and screech and throw things before someone threw him in Jackson's time-out closet and left him there.

He could only hope the Autobots would let him out before nightfall.