"Mr. Barnes?"

"Oh, Ms. McMahon," the teacher looked up from his black glasses and smiled. "Come in."

"Thank you," Jessica returned his grin and made her way towards his desk.

He handed her a manila folder with two pieces of white stationary peeking out.

"This is yours, I finished it last night," he assured her. "Proofread it three times, just to make sure it was perfect."

"Thanks, Mr. Barnes," she nodded. "I really appreciate this."

"In my eight years of teaching, Ms. McMahon, I've never had a student quite like you," he sighed, placing his pen down on his desk. "It's going to be a shame to lose you… and I'm going to miss your visits next year."

"All this time and you still refer to me as Ms. McMahon?" Jessica laughed half-heartedly at him. "I'll be back, Mr. Barnes," she tried to assure her former teacher. "I can't promise it will be as frequent as it is now, but I promise that I will try to come back once a month."

"Well, I hope my letter proves useful, Ms. McMahon," he smiled again, "But I have a feeling you'll be accepted without a single glance at my recommendation, especially those grades."

"The straight A+'s didn't hurt," Jessica laughed. "So thank you for those."

"I can't take credit for those…" Barnes shook his head at her. "You did that all on your own."

For a moment, Mr. Barnes looked at her sadly, acknowledging that she was no longer the same girl he'd first encountered at thirteen. She'd grown up and she'd moved on.

"Well," he cleared his throat. "I'm sure you have to get home and fill out the rest of your forms."

"Yeah," she looked down at her shoes, now a more tasteful white Nike sneaker, "I guess so. I'll see you around, Mr. Barnes."

"I hope so…" he replied as she moved towards the door. "Jessica."

Jessica turned her head towards her former teacher and smiled before passing out of the door and down the hall.

Jessica started the engine of her midnight black 1990 Pontiac Firebird and stared at the dashboard for a moment. When it seemed like there were no more tears left, she wiped at her eyes and fastened her seat belt before taking off out of the school parking lot.

Driving down the road, which she'd have to take all the way down before arriving at her street, she was contemplating her future and wondering how eleven years had flown by so fast?


"Grandma!" Jessica called as she shut the front door behind her and placed her keys on the table.

"Hey, Jessie," her grandmother answered her from the kitchen. "I'm making some cookies for you to eat during Raw tonight, but if you want, you can preview them fresh out of the oven in ten minutes."

"Sounds good to me," she replied, entering the kitchen.

"Did you get your last letter?" Diana asked, picking her head up from the bowl in front of her.

"Yeah, from Mr. Barnes."

"Good. How many applications are you sending out?"

"15. Five safe schools, five reach schools, and five stretch schools," she explained.

"How many is John sending out?"

"Um… I don't think even he knows how many he's filled out already. I guess, anywhere that might take a football player with mediocre grades," Jessica shrugged, hopping up on the counter.

"Still no clue where you want to go, huh?" Diana smiled knowingly.

"Not at all. I mean, I want to stay near here, but I want to go to a school that I'm going to like for it's academics."

"What about Springfield… that's only 20 minutes away?"

"Grandma," Jessica arched an eyebrow, "That's a football school. That means there's 35 of John just on the football team."

"Speaking of John, what's he up to? I haven't seen him in a few days," Diana inquired, removing a pan from the black oven.

"Neither have I."

"What are you talking about, you've practically been attached at the hip since you were seven years old?" she asked, shutting the oven door.

"He's out with Liz," Jessica rolled her eyes, stressing his girlfriend's name and exhaling sharply.

"Ah, your favorite person?"

"Yeah. They're attached at the ass," she stated angrily.

"Jessica Juliette McMahon!" Diana gaped at her granddaughter. "Bite your tongue!"

"I'm sorry," she shook her head quickly. "I just feel like I'm losing my best friend, you know?"

"Look, Jess," her grandmother sighed, pulling up a chair and sitting down, "I know it feels as though you're no longer important to John, but you're wrong. And you can wish every single day that they break up, but they've been together for over a year now and it's not looking likely. If you want to stay a part of John's life, you've got to learn to live with her… she's not going anywhere, Jessica, and I know you don't want to lose him."

"Grandma, I've tried… I really have. I just- "Jessica shrugged and threw up her hands, "I just don't know what to do anymore. It just seems like whenever we're in the same room, she goes out of her way to be rude and obnoxious. You know I wouldn't lie to you…"

"I know, Jessie," Diana nodded. "You just have to trust John to not let one of the most important women in his life walk out of the picture."

"You know I hate letting things become intangible…"

"Yeah, I do. Unfortunately, Jessica… it's a part of life."


Jessica stared down at the neatly stacked piles of paper on her bed and sighed. All of these applications would take her forever to finish, but with her final recommendation letter now in hand, it was bound to get easier.

Yeah, it might take her a long time to complete, but the earlier she finished, the better.


"John!"

"Yeah, Mom?" the seventeen year old answered from his room.

"Dinner is ready!" she called back to him.

John pulled open the door of his bedroom. Once Steve headed off to college, John had taken over the room for himself. Every plaque, trophy, and medal he had ever won now adorned his white walls.

He bounded down the stairs in his black basketball shorts, white tank, and white sneakers.

"Son," John Senior laughed as the younger Cena took his place at the table with his brothers, the ten year old Sean, thirteen year old Matt, and fifteen year old Dan. "Slow down. You actually have to eat food before you can work it off at the gym."

"Yeah, well, I gotta meet Liz right after, so I want to get there ASAP," he answered, sitting down in the chair opposite Matt.

"Why can't you just workout afterwards?" Carol chimed in, before taking a forkful of salad into her mouth.

"She wants to see this movie that's showing at 10, but it only shows at 4pm and 10pm every day," John explained, digging his fork into the mashed potatoes bowl.

"Hey, barbarian," John's father interrupted him. "Use the serving spoon."

"Right, my bad."

"John," his mother interred, "Why can't you go tomorrow?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, "She wanted to go tonight."

John Sr. shook his head, "But what did you want to do tonight?"

"Whatever she wanted was fine with me. As long as I get to eat, sleep, and workout, I don't care."

"When you're in your thirties and married, with children, is that what you're going to say, John?" his father eyed him angrily, staring at his nonchalant attitude.

"Married with children?" John laughed and turned back to eating the potatoes on his plate. "Now that's a funny show."

John Senior slammed his hand down on the table causing the contents of the meal to shake on the table with a loud clanging noise, stunning his three youngest sons into silence.

"God dammit, John!" his father bellowed from the head of the table. "I am serious!"

"So am I, it's a good show," he replied curtly.

"Please, John," his mother put a hand on her son's muscular arm, "Don't patronize your father."

"You know what son?" Senior started, "Go to the gym. Go to Liz. Do what you want… I don't care anymore today."

"Sounds good to me," John replied, pushing his chair away from the table and grabbing his duffel bag. "I'll be home later. Peace."


"John Cena in the house!" he exclaimed, pushing his way into his teammate's house, which was once empty, but was now bursting at the seams with music, food, people, and alcohol, a combination John worshipped.

A bunch of friends greeted him and Liz, the brunette girl beside him dressed in destroyed jeans and a pink tank top, as he made his way towards the kegs.

The phone rang and the house's owner, Jake, answered it. "Liz!" he called. "It's your sister… your parents are coming home a day early."

"So?" she placed her hands on her hips.

"So… Sarah says they'll be home in an hour,' Jake replied, somewhat annoyed.

"Fuckin' A," she panicked. "John?" she called her boyfriend, but spotted him with an empty beer bottle already beside him.

"Dammit, Cena. You're no use to me now," she cursed him silently under her breath. "John, I need to go home. My parents are coming home in an hour."

"Okay, babe," he smiled, downing another beer quickly. "Where are my keys?" he asked himself, as he dug around in his pockets before pulling them out. "Here we are!"

"John!" Liz yelled at him. "How many beers have you had?"

"Just three," he replied before taking another long chug of a freshly opened Coors Light. "Wait, make that three and a half."

"Christ, you can't drive now!" she responded, rubbing her temples.

"So?" he shrugged innocently, flipping her his key ring. "You drive, I'll crash here."

"You sure?"

"Yep."

"Alright," she smiled, kissing him gently. "Goodnight."


Jessica glanced at her clock as she startled awake.

4:35 am.

Her grandmother had gone to visit a dear friend in New York for the weekend and would certainly be asleep by now. Her father rarely called and when her mother did, it was either before school or after dinner. Stephanie was busy in her second year of college and Shane was off working at the WWF.

So who the hell was calling her this early in the morning?

"Hello?" she groggily answered the phone.

"Jess, it's Jake," the voice replied. "John came to my party tonight and he's trashed… puking up everywhere out back."

"Where's the missus?" she mused sarcastically.

"Her parents came home a day early," Jake answered seriously. "She had to jet."

"Can't somebody drive him in his car and then catch a lift back with a friend?"

"Liz just took it to drive herself home."

"Idiot," Jessica mumbled. "Don't you think they know what his car looks like by now?"

"All I know is that I can't have him puking up all over my house!"

"Okay, okay," she replied, flicking on the light on her nightstand. "Give me twenty minutes."


Jake looked at the door as a loud banging noise emanated from the other side. He took a quick look at his backyard and then walked to the door. He looked through the peephole, smiled, and opened the door.

"Where is he?" the spunky, 5'4" blonde demanded, standing in the doorway in a pair of acid washed jeans and a black zip-up sweatshirt.

"Nice to see you too, McMahon."

"Oh, save it, Jake," she blew him off. "Where the hell is he?"

"In the backyard."

Jessica pushed past the school's star runningback and made her way to the back door. She opened the door and found two people in the backyard. One was Jake's older, college student sister, Lydia, who had clearly purchased all of the night's alcohol. The other was face down on the grass beside the pool.

"Jesus Christ," she mumbled and walked past Lydia towards the passed out young man. "John?" she asked tapping him lightly on the shoulder.

All that came from the body was a groan and some muttering.

"John?" Jessica repeated, shaking him slightly. "I need to get you home."

"No."

It was the first coherent word he had spoken thus far.

"Dad… fight. I… Liz. We…party. No…home."

"Let me get this straight. You got into a fight with your dad and you left to see Liz," she began slowly, "And then you both came to this party, but she had to leave. And now you don't want to go home?"

He nodded weakly, resting his head back down on the ground.

"Lydia," Jess called for Jake's sister. "Go get Jake. I can't carry his sorry ass inside all by myself."

A few minutes later, Lydia returned with her brother in tow.

"Where do you want him?"

"My car."


The next day, John awoke with a start.

"Where the fuck am I?" he asked, sitting up and looking around to find that he was back in his room. He spotted two aspirin and a glass of water sitting on his nightstand and soon became fully aware of the hangover pounding on his brain.

He popped the two pulls in his mouth and chased it down with some water, then rose from his bed. He caught his reflection in the mirror. His black gym shorts had been replaced by a pair of red ones with a black stripe down each side and his white tank had been exchanged for a black one.

His prior question had now been replaced by his new one, "How the hell did I get here?"

John opened the door to his room and made his way down the stairs, only to find his mother sitting in the kitchen chair.

"It's about time you woke up," she stated simply as he tried to creep his way past the kitchen.

"You could hear that?" he asked incredulously, stopping in his tracks.

"John, I've always heard you, since you were a baby, but this time… I need you to hear me."

John took a seat in a chair opposite his mother at the table and nodded.

"Good," she returned his nod. "Now, I understand that your father got you angry last night, BUT that does not mean he was wrong. You have changed since you started dating her, but not for the good, John. You abandoned your friends and your family. I thought that your two years at Cushing might have taught you more than that, but apparently, we were wrong. Look," she sighed, regaining her composure. "I'm not going to tell your father about this, John, but do not be mistaken, this is NOT for you. HE and YOUR BROTHERS do not need this stress on their heads right now. However, there are conditions to this. One, no more parties until spring break. Two, you will be home every night for dinner… EVERY night. And three, no more ditching family events. If you want to hang out with Liz, you will bring her… understood?"

"Yeah," John agreed. "Hey, Mom?"

"Yes, John?"

"How'd I get home… and in these clothes?" he asked, looking down at his appearance and then back at Carol.

"While Liz took your keys and left, Jake called Jessica and she came to get you in the middle of the night. It was 7 am when she got you home and I think she made you take a shower and put on your boxers. As for the shorts and tank and aspirin and everything else… all her, John," she finished, pushing away from the kitchen table.

John could only remain there, staring at his hands.

Carol turned around in the doorway and looked at John, "And that is what you keep ditching."


A/N: So I think I'm staying pretty true to everything I've read about John and his family.

Do you think I'm staying true to his character... and what you think he would have been like as a teen?

Let me know.

Danielle