Marshmellows Roasting Over an Open Fire
By the Angel
Summary: When you were a teenager, girls, did you ever fantasize about your first boyfriend? Maybe you'd meet at camp, or during the summer? Well, a twelve year old Stephanie is going to have a summer that she will neeeeever, eeeeever forget. (Chris/Stephanie)
Disclaimer: WWFE owns names, and Titan Sports own characters. I own the fic and the created characters. They are the ones you don't recognize. Vince McMahon owns the WWF.
A/N: I know that Chris Jericho is older than Stephanie by six years, okay? It'd be easier for my fic if I made them the same age. So don't review saying, "but Chris is older than her!" I know. Enjoy!
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A twelve-year old Chris Jericho bounced his basketball up against the wall. The object seemed like a gush of orange since it was ricocheting off the Jericho living room in a fantastic speed.
"Christopher!" Mr. Jericho called, entering the living room. He cringed at the sight of the basketball narrowly missing Mrs. Jericho's beloved vase. "Yeah, Dad?" Chris asked, after he retrieved the ball.
Mr. Louis Jericho sat down on the plush green couch and patted the next cushion. "Have a seat, boy." Chris cocked his head to the side and frowned. "Dad, I am twelve, can you stop calling me boy?"
"Are you a girl?"
"No." Chris's reply came flatly.
"Therefore, it's correct that I call you a boy."
Louis Jericho was a college professor, and it seemed, to Chris, that sometimes he wasn't smart enough for his father's liking. His father wanted him to go read books, research on encyclopedias, and do experiments. Chris's mother, Theresa, was content that her son had friends, played sports, and had his room messed up.
"As you know, Chris, the summer is coming up…" Louis started, placing a hand on his son's shoulder. Chris's smile lit up. "Yes! School ends Friday, Dad." Louis grinned a bit and nodded. "And, your mother and I have been discussing your activities."
Chris rolled his eyes and slumped back against the billowy fabric. "Let me guess, Mom would be happy if I stayed home and watched TV, and you want me to go to a NASA camp?" Louis took his hand off his son's shoulder.
"It's not like that Chris. I don't want you going to a NASA camp, because I am afraid you're going to cost me millions of dollars. Besides, I don't trust you in space. And your mother doesn't want you home all summer."
Chris bounced the basketball in fury. "Why not? What do you want me to do?" Louis held a hand up for his son. "Relax, Chris, relax." He paused for a minute, and stroked the stubble on his chin, "your mother and I want you to go to sleep away camp."
"Sleep away camp?" Chris protested. "There are no good sleep away camps in Canada! It's just woods!"
"We know that. You're going to go to Camp Tin Trees in New Jersey."
"Tin Trees? I'd rather have the woods. And what do you mean, I am going? I never agreed to this!"
"Heh, well, Chris, I am 41, and you are twelve. I can easily beat you up." His father smirked.
"I can beat you at one on one." Chris held the basketball between his hands.
"We're not talking about sports, here. This will be a good experience! You'll learn about the wilderness—" Louis was cut off by his son.
"I can go in the backyard and learn about the wilderness!"
"Ahem. As I was saying, you'll learn about the wilderness, learn how to get by on your own, and interact with people."
"I DO interact with people! I am friends with Kevin, Bobby, and James."
"Like I said. Interact with PEOPLE. Those boys are complete jokes!"
"Hey, ya gotta have friends."
"You're going."
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Kevin handed Chris a piece of fruit roll up. Chris took it, sniffed it, and stuffed it into his mouth. "Get this— My parents are sending me to some camp in Jersey!" Chris sighed, throwing a basketball into the hoop.
"Jersey?" Bobby asked, chugging down a soda.
"America." Chris replied.
"Oh."
"The WHOLE summer?" James asked in disbelief. He grabbed the ball from Chris and slammed it against the garage door. Chris nodded. "I leave Tuesday and won't be coming back until August 30th."
Bobby flattened his red hair. "Wow. Any reason for this?"
Chris snorted. "My dad said I couldn't interact with people. Please." He paused, and saw his beloved basketball by the garage door. "Why did you take my basketball, butt munch?" Chris demanded.
"I see your father's reasoning." Kevin laughed as he bumped knuckles with James.