Chapter Twenty
John Cena
Amberlea, Randy and I gathered for dinner in our usual spot on Thursday, with the three of us having a lot of tension to hash out. Amberlea looked stunning as usual; her chocolate hair pulled back in a sweet, elegant up-do, with black bell-bottomed slacks and a long, flowing sky blue top with bell-shaped sleeves. Randy was his usual dour self, and I was dressed up casual in my usual shorts and jersey.
"How's everyone doing tonight?" Lea, the last to arrive, asked as she slid into the booth beside Randy.
"Good, good," I replied, handing her a menu. "You should see the waitress tonight, Randy. Hot little number named Rachel." Randy stared at me in surprise, but shook his head and thumbed through the menu.
The waitress approached, the beautiful strawberry blonde who had seated me, and flashed me an enormous megawatt smile. "Hello, guys. Can I start you off with a drink?" she asked.
"You sure can," I replied. "Bottle of Budweiser." Randy closed his menu and mumbled something about a strawberry milkshake. Lea ordered a Shirley Temple and she walked off. We went quiet, looking through the menu for a meal. The tension was killing me, but I wasn't about to strike up a conversation about it until the waitress took our order and we were certain to have some time to ourselves to discuss it undisturbed.
When she finally returned, I ordered some nachos. Lea ordered a chicken Caesar salad and Randy ordered a steak. When Rachel had collected the menus and walked away towards the kitchen, I finally turned all of my attention onto them. "So, what in the hell is going on? Is my name Hitler?"
"John, please don't…" Lea said to me, her voice soft, eyes pleading.
"Sorry, Lea, but I have to. You blame me for everything that happened, don't you?"
"No," she insisted, pausing, taking a deep sigh. "I don't. But, John, I swear if you ever push me into having a 'normal experience' again, I will kill you." Randy nodded in agreement, watching me through his beady eyes. I bit my lip. Now would have been the perfect time to call Randy out for his newfound hostility towards me, but for some reason I didn't. Maybe it was the sight of Amberlea's hazel eyes pleading with me not to make anymore of a scene than I had already done regarding her date with Goldberg. I heard that Randy had gotten into a fight with Goldberg after he heard all the details of the date, something neither of the would give me. Vince had let Randy off with a reprieve, and now Hunter is pretty much babysitting his ass all over the world. We fell into an awkward silence; things were changing between the three of us, and I'm not sure why. I can tell Randy and Lea sense it, too.
The thick tension in the air seemed to break when the hot little number with the name tag Rachel came back with our dinner. Lea poked and prodded at her salad. I could tell her thoughts were elsewhere, but I didn't want to try and draw it out of her. Especially since she had just dressed me down about getting too involved in her personal life. I wish she would understand that I'm just trying to help. All work and no play makes Jill a dull girl, and I don't want to see her fall into that. She needs to have a life, to love, to do the things she didn't get to do while she was out training for this life.
Randy picked at his steak, numbly munching on French fries, his eyes never leaving me. There was something behind those beady eyes that I could sense from him, and I can honestly say that I don't like it. If Amberlea picked up on it, she never said a word, instead stuck in her own world, thinking about things that she didn't want me to be privy to. I sighed and cut into my steak; why do things have to get so complicated?
Randy Orton
I pulled up in front of my house on the back of Amberlea's motorcycle. I finally got to have a ride on this thing, and I can't be more excited about the day that I finally get my license. Then I'd have to take her for a ride. I climbed off of the bike and handed her the spare helmet she kept in the back of the bike. She slid her leg over the bike so she was leaned against it.
"Is everything okay?" I asked. "You were pretty quiet at dinner."
"Yeah. Everything's fine," she replied. "It's just been a long few months. 2003 has been a really busy year for us."
"Isn't that the truth?"
"Are you all right?" she asked. "If looks could kill, you probably would have murdered John at the table tonight."
"Yeah. Everything's fine," I assured her, not wanting to drag her into anything. "He means well, but I just don't like seeing you get hurt."
"I'm a tough cookie," she replied, a soft smile tugging at her angelic features. I wish I could believe her; she's still so very much vulnerable in so many ways. From what John's told me, she's never even had a boyfriend. Why this information is so important to John is beyond me, but it is. My hand shot out in front of me before I could catch it and I brushed my hand against her face. She stared at me dumbfounded. "You had a spot on your face," I lied. Quick cover. Smooth move, Randal. Her mouth formed a silent "Ah", and she brushed some hair out of her face. She straightened herself up and gave me a hug.
"Thank you for looking out for me as much as you do, Randy. I really do appreciate it."
"Don't think anything of it, Amberlea. I know you'd do the same for me." I hugged her tighter. It took everything inside of me to tear away from her and go into the house, but I managed to do it, telling her to have a goodnight and sweet dreams. My thoughts kept going back to John; what was his deal with her?
Amberlea Brennan
The guys are acting so weird lately, and I just don't know what to make of it.
Randy's typically moody, but lately he seems to be opening up to me more than usual. I think after his fistfight with Bill, he decided to just keep a closer eye on me as a result. As much as I appreciate it, I wish he and John would both understand that I'm content with the life that I have. I'm not lonely right now; I have two of the greatest friends in the world, millions of fans who admire me, a wonderful father and a nice townhouse. At the moment, I couldn't be more happy with the way things are going. Why complicate it with a boyfriend?
I parked my motorcycle and walked into the house, happy to be home, but feeling like the tension between John and Randy hadn't been resolved. If anything, something inside of me told me that things were just going to get worse.
There was a message on my answering machine. Stephanie McMahon. I have a photo-shoot coming up soon. I hit stop; I barely heard any of the message anyway. A shower never looked so good, and neither did my bed.
It was nice to finally get Randy on the motorcycle, he and I seem to have a really special bond with that. He's such a student of the game, such a smart guy. So is John, but it seems like when it really boils down to it, Randy and I have more in common.
The shower was amazing, but it's hard to get excited about anything when I get the feeling that John and Randy are going to come to blows sooner rather than later. And the worst part of it all is that it's probably all my fault why the two of them are so upset with each other at the moment. I wish there was a way to make it better.