I would just like to remind everyone that I'm still making drafts, and I will try to make it to Summerslam, where Cena faces Booker T (you'll see what a twist I'll do to it), and to the grand finale. Plus, I'll take it slow for a while, because my exams are up. Just keep on reviewing!
Also, I have a confession to make. I'm from the Philippines, I'm a girl, I'm 16, a senior in high school, and Cena and Orton are my latest obsessions. E-mail me ad tell me what's the latest on Raw and Smackdown, cause we're kind of three weeks behind.
Hope you'll hear me out!
I headed towards the locker room, my padlock chains jingling with every step that I made. Rey and Eddie were lagging behind me, yawning and sleepily following my saunter. Bet they have no idea where we're going.
"Hey J," Rey called throatily behind me.
"What?"
"Where are we goin'?"
"Haven't you seen Angle this morning?" I asked him rather irritably.
Rey yawned again, rubbed his eyes and scratched his hair. "I dunno…was he there, Ed?"
Rey turned to Eddie, who looks like someone who has no idea what was happening to the world at that moment. Eddie peered at Rey through half-closed eyes, oblivious"Didn't see the bulbhead anywhere, holmes. I honestly thought he was drafted to RRC."
Man, these guys are hopeless. I gave them the blue flyer I was holding for a while. "Here. This might wake you up, rather knowing what the meaning of caffeine is."
I continued to walk, Eddie and Rey sharing sections of the flyer behind me. Suddenly, like a bubble bursting to the surface, the first sharp intake of air broke out, both their eyes were wide and their expressions perplexed than ever.
"Paul Heyman?!" they both exclaimed. "No way!"
Boy, I do remember that's the same way I reacted when I laid my eyes on the light blue scrap. "Great. Now you're awake." I reminded them snidely.
Rey smiled cheekily. "Ah, so the Big Boss wasn't really kidding when he'd said no one was safe. Paulie honestly thinks he wouldn't be picked."
Eddie crumpled the flyer and threw the wad behind him. "The old man's full of surprises these days. "First, a draft lottery. I wonder what McMahon will think of next."
"Well, whatever it is, I hope it wouldn't involve sudden death." I grumbled.
The two of them erupted in laughter, and I couldn't help thinking that a smile was creeping over my face. Yeah, we're free of telling jokes about that McMahon character, but the man is actually worth fearing. You're safe as long as you respect him. Don't cross the boss, he would always say, but I would like to remind that he doesn't actually own both SC and RRC, and that he isn't the real Boss. The owner is his wife, Linda McMahon. Vincent Kennedy Mac was her faithful puppy. Or other than being her faithful puppy…
Yuck. I wouldn't even want to think about it.
We went inside the locker room, and unlike the other high-class, nice and squeaky clean deluxe areas of the school, the room was long and unattractive, with exposed ducts and pipes hugging the raw white walls. Everyone was here, including the cheerleading squad, obviously pissed that they were joined in the lottery. There were disapproving hisses from their group, their expressions plain disgusted, while the guys are annoyed because they were woken up too early. We took our seats arranged right to the front, from where Kurt Angle stands so everyone would see him.
"Settle down people!" Angle announced. "Sorry to get you all up so early, but I just wanted to take a few minutes to talk to you about the things that have been happening so far. As you all know, our general manager Paul Heyman has been drafted to RRC."
Everyone cheered, even hugged and clapped each other, jumping and laughing, including the cheerleaders, while I stayed glued to my seat, the beginnings of a frown forming in my face. Angle just called everyone here for that? As if anyone would care about Heyman!
But Angle didn't look happy at all. "However, he chose not to work for Bischoff, so he quit this business. We don't have a GM, do you hear me? No GM!"
"Obviously," a voice said from the cheerleaders. They stifled their giggles.
"I've just made some calls to the Big Boss," he continued. "I already don't know what I'm going to do here with you bruisers, and McMahon's not answering any of my calls!"
"Of course he wouldn't, you nitwit," I piped in, not taking it any longer. "What do you expect form a busy man like the Big Boss answering your prissy phone calls after doing that damn lottery last night?"
Everyone looked at me, even Eddie and Rey, their shocked faces saying it all. The bulbhead's fists were clenching at his sides when he approached me, and I almost chickened out, but then I put my foot down. What's wrong with saying something that is true?
"Geez Cena," Angle snapped fiercely. "You think you could maybe shut up?"
"Who died and made you king, Kurt?" I snarled back. "You can talk shit all you want, but I'll say whatever I want."
"Oh yeah?" Angle's reply was low and challenging.
I rose defiantly to my feet, but Angle hesitated.
"What's the matter, lumpy?" I taunted. "I thought you wanted to kick my ass."
"You and what army?" Angle drawled a challenging smirk in his face.
My fists were balled, ready to dodge him, but somehow I held my ground. "I don't need no army. I don't rely on simpletons like you do to fight my own battles."
Angle's little eyes didn't leave mine, and I glared at him with my own. Seconds passed. Minutes. It now became strangely uncomfortable, and the silence was deafening.
"What about the game tonight?" someone asked.
Angle took a deep breath, and finally walked away from me. "We're just gonna have to do without Heyman, that's all. What's important is that we cream those Lions. Got that?"
The group answered with a unanimous "Aye." I sat down in my chair and massaged my temples.
"Good," Angle said. "You all know that the new recruits from RRC are coming tonight before the game, and I respectfully ask—no, demand, that you please not clobber them in their first game here."
Angle smirked at me even more now, as if to emphasize his point. I sank lower in my seat, trying to wipe the scowl off my face. What, do I start all the fights here?
Ever since the two of us met last summer, we definitely did not see each other eye-to-eye. Angle loathes me for the promotion of hip-hop music and acting like a bad ass street punk, while I hated him for his patriotism and his love for America and those self-dictating crap. And that was where the war began.
I kept teasing Angle as a gay fagget because of the way he was spying on me.
He kept making bad imitations of me whenever he entertains in his class.
I retaliated by spreading juicy rumors of his girlfriend dumping him for AA batteries.
……
Ok, so that was immature. Bottom line, I'm nothing but a bruiser to him, and he's nothing a member of the holier-than-thou, minors-shouldn't-drink club. Angle always told me to shape up, a billion times that I've already lost count, or he'll expel me from the team.
Shaping up would be my decision. I promised myself that I would never let anyone intimidate me. However, if he did expel me, beating the holy hell out of him would be quite easy…
I shook my head, trying to get those murderous thoughts out of my head. After all, the only sport that SC depended on was football, and if Angle kicked me off the team now, he'll be sorry that he ever did that.
"Further announcements will be made next Monday," Angle called out. "So do your best tonight, Eagles. Springville's counting on us."
Whispers of excitement were heard from the football team, and there had been titters from the cheerleaders. I have to admit; finally fighting our rival was pretty damn good. And it's going to happen tonight.
"Meeting's officially over. Now get the hell out of the locker room!" Angle announced.
Everyone stormed out of the cramped room. I was left behind, having given the responsibility by a grudgingly acute team captain to get the folding steel chairs back into the storeroom. Both Rey and Eddie were lingering at the door, waiting for me to finish. I put every chair back inside the storeroom, leaning them all neatly inside.
"You sure you don't want any help, champ?" Rey asked me.
I carried two to three of the chairs, holding it up for him to see. "I can handle it."
"That was really close, esse vato," Eddie said, cracking his knuckles one by one. "You almost knocked Angle down, and if I hadn't interfered—"
"Wait. That was you?!" I said incredulously. I was so angry at that time that I barely noticed the one who spoke. I don't know why I even bothered.
"Of course I had to interrupt," Eddie insisted. "By the looks of it, you look like you're gonna strangle him."
"I was?"
When I become really angry, I tend to forget. A short-term-memory-effect-whenever-I-get-really-angry syndrome. In fact, I never actually remembered the last time I went totally irate...
"Forgive me if I'm being grateful." I said scornfully. Eddie had a satisfied smirk on his face, vindicated.
The locker room was immaculately clean, thanks to moi, and I turned to Rey, who was checking his watch.
"You guys wanna go walk around for a while?"
Eddie nodded while I shrugged. Soon, the three of us were on the school's outdoor park across to the parking lot. A few of our teammates started a game of touch football, while the cheerleading squad was on the picnic tables, talking about some back flips and pyramids for tonight. The football team and the cheerleading squad were the only ones awake that morning, making up for excess time.
The three of us were silent, all in separate thoughts. Then I blurted out something that was bothering me since this morning.
"Can you guys…uh…tell me whenever you're free for…uh… on a weekend?" I stammered out.
The two Latino boys exchanged confused looks. "Sure. Why?"
I wanted nothing more than to flee but I couldn't seem to move. "My sister's inviting me to stay over for three days, and she's been bugging me to meet you two."
I bent my head down. I didn't understand why I'm feeling so embarrassed. I knew I was babbling, and it was stupid, but I just couldn't seem to stop.
A few seconds later, they both laughed.
"What's so funny?" I demanded.
"Really, dude. You really scared us." Rey said between guffaws.
Eddie, on the other hand, had his dark eyes crinkled with mirth. "You look like you pissed your pants there, so we thought it was something. Don't worry, holmes. We'll be more than happy to join you."
So they did notice. Damn it, I hate it when they do that!
"Just—just don't say anything, all right?!" I sputtered. "You're lucky you don't have an impertinent sister. How about putting yourselves in my shoes?"
"Haylie hasn't changed, isn't she?" said Eddie, smiling. "Just following her older brother's steps."
"Eddie's right, you know," Rey piped in. "Besides, if she really looked up to you like you said, maybe she isn't so impertinent. I'd like to meet her."
"Me too," Eddie butted in. "It would be great to meet Little Miss Minx."
"I do hope she's cute though." Rey thought.
"Ah, Rey, there you go again. Women, women, and women." said Eddie, sighing.
"What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing. Ok, so we both want to find out what them Avril Lavigne clones are like, but I would like to go first please."
"Aha! So you do want to know her!"
"You're thinking of different things. In case you haven't noticed, I already have a girlfriend, holmes."
"Gyeh! Are you even that loyal to her?"
"All right already!" I howled, exasperated. "Both of you are obviously set. I get it. Geez…"
Eddie wrinkled his nose. "That's enough excitement for now. How about going to McDonald's, hombres? I'm starving."
Rey nodded. "McDonald's sounds good."
"Quick! To my low-rider, vato locos!" Eddie announced in his best superhero imitation voice.
They both sprinted to the parking lot, but I stayed behind. Inviting Rey and Eddie to this trip was a good idea. With the attitudes they both carried their whole lives, Haylie may not even pick on them. Who knows? Maybe they'll all get along, maybe not. Maybe Haylie might even like one of them, maybe not. She's just gonna have to deal.
"What are you waiting for, holmes?" Eddie called. "Are you gonna ride with us or just stand there looking pretty, esse?"
I shook my head and smiled to myself. I should have nothing to worry about. I started to run to Eddie's car, full of energy. After all, the game was tonight…
"Fine! But it'll be your treat!" I yelled.
(t.b.c.)