High School Drama
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters – they belong to the mega wrestling company, WWE (World Wrestling Entertainment).
Summary: A high school comedy about love, friendship, bullies, cliques, and basically all the elements which make up a good high school drama! Starring John Cena, The Hardy Boyz, Lita, Triple H, Randy Orton, Stacy Keibler, Y2J, Kurt Angle, Christy Hemme, JBL, Torrie Wilson, Trish Stratus, HBK, Los Guerreros, and many more!
A/N: Let's just pretend that all the wrestlers are in high school (despite the age differences), ok? Well, except for the really old ones or legends like Vince McMahon, Linda McMahon, Ric Flair, Hulk Hogan, Mick Foley, and those other ones. I'll be considering for the medium-aged ones like JBL, Triple H, Booker T and HBK to be in University. I don't know—depends on how the story goes.
By the way, this story is set before the Draft Lottery.
Chapter 3: Disaster in Maths
Cena had some trouble finding the administration office, but thank goodness a thing called a 'map' had been invented. The map was pinned on a large sign with the school's name above it. The sign was situated around the science lab. He followed the map, and finally he arrived.
A woman with glasses behind the table looked at him, and before Cena could say anything, she handed him a white sheet of paper. Cena looked at it, and his name was printed on the top. It clearly printed the word timetable. Hoping he'd be in, at least, one same class with Matt, Lita or Jeff, he was thrilled to discover that he would have P.E. class with them. Whistling, he made his way to his current class—Maths.
His arrival in Maths class was met with a dissatisfying glance made by the teacher, who was marking the student class role. She took a glimpse at Cena, observing his very casual style: chain necklace, green jersey shirt, cropped blue jeans pants, and a tucker cap. She clicked her tongue, clearly disappointed. Then she motioned Cena to sit. Cena looked around the class, looking for an empty seat.
All students, who were looking bored the minute before, now focused their attentions on Cena. Each thinking the same thing, "He's a new guy." Girls were smiling at him, batting their eyelashes. The boys had different expressions on their faces: some looked curious, while some looked like they couldn't care less.
Luckily, the confused Cena found an empty seat at the back of the class. A dark-haired, laid-back-looking guy in red shirt occupied the seat next to it. Without a second thought, he walked there. Putting his stained bag down, Cena tried to make himself comfortable on the chair. The students still looked at him, and some gasped. It seemed as if the class hadn't started. People were still chatting to the others, and some of them were busy taking out textbooks out of their bags.
"How do you like this school?" the dark-haired guy turned around and looked at Cena, looking curious. Cena shrugged.
"It's… it's cool," he said, matter-of-factly. Cena was about to ask his name, but the guy smiled at him before then focusing his eyes on the blackboard—staring at all sorts of mathematical formulae. Cena gulped. He forgot that he sucked in maths. It took him pretty long to learn about algebra and equations back then at his old school. They are so confusing, he complained.
Unfortunately for Cena, it seemed like a tradition in every school that all teachers always pick on new students. The teacher called him to finish the problems on the board. All students started to giggle and laugh. Awkwardly, Cena got up from his seat and the guy flashed a thumbs-up at him, signalling for good luck.
In front of the class, the teacher smirked at Cena evilly. Cena frowned. These are higher-graded calculus! Oh no, he gritted his teeth. Everyone in the class was waiting for him to solve the confusing equations. Again, the teacher's grin turned wider. It was as if she would have a party to celebrate Cena's inability to answer such simple (to her) formulae. Beads of sweat began popping on his forehead. He just had to think! But it was hard to think with everyone's eyes all staring at you. The class was silent, as if torturing him.
"Well? What is the answer—" the teacher asked, checking her students' name list, "—John Cena?" By this time, her grin had stretched from one ear to the other.
Cena responded furiously through gritted teeth, "I… The—the answer…" He couldn't think of a stinging response to that evil question. Darn!
Some students were whispering to each other, and Cena began to lose his confidence—slow but steady. Maybe being a new student wasn't a good thing after all. A few minutes passed, and finally he—regretfully—gave up.
"I don't know," Cena answered, glaring at the teacher. The teacher let out a small breath of triumph.
"What did you say?" she asked; though trying to sound calm, but everyone could note the hint of satisfaction in her voice. She then took a piece of chalk and wrote Cena's name on the blackboard, under the heading Detention. Cena opened his mouth, bewildered. It's not fair! Upon seeing this, people started talking—about him. The dark-haired guy at the back of the class looked calm. He stared at Cena with indomitable coolness—just like Vince McMahon's expression when he first had their meeting.
"John Cena, you'll be sitting in detention with me afterschool today," the annoying teacher smiled. Then she waved Cena off, and Cena walked back to his seat.
"That was funny," the guy told him. Cena gave a thin smile. What does he mean, funny! I bet he can't answer it too, Cena thought. He felt as if he failed to impress the people in this class.
Suddenly the dreadful teacher called him up again. This time, to hand out the test sheets.
"Mr. Cena! I trust you're incapable of answering questions… so I suppose you'll just be handing out sheets. You know, like an assistant?" she asked. She piled up the test sheets on a small table next to her desk. Cena groaned. A test? He got up from his seat slowly.
"I trust you've all memorised the formulae. Well, except for one…," the teacher stared at Cena accusingly. "…who happens to be a new kid. Anyway, this means all of you'll get perfect scores, right?" she continued demandingly. All students gazed at her.
Cena was making his way to the front of the class lazily. Unfortunately, it looked like the goddess of fortune wasn't on his side. As he strolled across the classroom, someone jerked his foot out right on Cena's path. Not bothering to look down, Cena tripped. He fell right in front of the teacher, knocking over the small table on which the test sheets were piled on. The fallen sheets created a big mess on the floor. Cena didn't move, shocked. Students gasped. The teacher was even angrier. She made a face.
"You're going outside! Now!" she shouted. Cena opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He saw there wasn't any point arguing. "Your detention is doubled, no, tripled! You'll join me tomorrow and Wednesday as well!" She placed double crosses next to Cena's name on the blackboard. "Bring your bag and stuff! You may not be entering this class for the rest of the day, unless I tell you so!"
Cena grimaced. Dragging his bag with him, he turned around for the last time to see who tripped him. It was Christian. He was grinning from ear to ear. Edge was sitting next to him, trying to stifle a laugh. Cena gritted his teeth, thinking, "I think I know who my first enemy is."
Even though Cena, being a new student, only got to follow one subject (due to his lateness upon arriving at the school) because he just came at lunchtime, he felt like he trashed a whole day's classes. Matt, Lita and Jeff promised to wait for him, but no one could guarantee how long the detention would take.
Now here I am, he thought miserably. Alone in the detention's room. On the first day of school. Sitting in a stupid chair. He sighed in hopelessness. He was about to lie his head down on the table when someone came in the room.
"John Cena, is it?" the person asked. Cena gasped. It was a pretty short dark-skinned man—bald, to be precise—dressed in a grey striped suit, black-framed glasses were positioned on his face. He had a casual, easygoing accent. He smiled brightly at Cena.
Cena stood up. "Yes… sir." The man grinned. He walked over to Cena and shook his hand. Cena saw that the man was clutching a clipboard. The man sat down in front of him, and started to flick through a document.
"Well, Mr. Cena, I believe you're put in the detention for causing trouble in the Maths class—which happened to be your first class of the day. All I can say is, are you really as disastrous as what the maths teacher reported to us?"
"No, sir! I didn't trip on purpose! Besides, why would I start on her bad side after I failed in answering a calculus formula on the board?" Cena complained. "It was this guy… I think his name is Christian."
The man shook his head. "Christian! I should have known. But you don't have any proof that he tripped you. After all, you don't even know him that much. It's your first day in this school!"
Damn right I don't know him that much, Cena grumbled. Except for the fact that he and Edge like to wag and cause troubles—according to Team eXtreme. Cena didn't say anything. Who is this man anyway?
"I'm sorry, but it seems like I can't let you out from detention." The man gave him an apologetic smile. Cena clicked his tongue. This begins to sound like a police interrogation—it's like as if I've done something serious. Like a crime.
"I am Theodore Long, the GM of SmackDown!, in case you haven't been informed. Too bad I left my badge in the office. And thankfully, I've been notified—before I arrived in this room, of course—that due to the lack of students, you've been placed in our faction." Mr. Long stood up. "Congratulations, Mr. Cena. You're in SmackDown!."
Although not apparent, but Cena was heavily disappointed. He thought he would be in RAW, where all the cool people are: Team eXtreme, The Clique, and Evolution. But instead, Vince McMahon decided to place him in the less-than-popular faction, SmackDown!—which, unfortunately, where Kurt Angle and JBL and Los Guerreros were. Though upset, Cena felt he had to get along with whatever decisions were made for him. He nodded, not bothering to argue.
"Whatever you say, Mr. Long—"
"Please, call me Teddy."
"Whatever you say, Teddy," Cena said this in feigned serene tone.
"Since this is your first detention, you may be dismissed now." Teddy stood up, walking Cena to the door. Carrying his bag, Cena breathed a sigh of relief.
When he walked out of the room, Cena found Team eXtreme were standing in the end of the hall. Matt and Lita smiled. Jeff raced towards him and gave a friendly slap on the back.
"I thought you were dead meat!" Jeff said. He sounded relieved. "I mean, if you were dead, who'd pay for the funeral?" Cena, Matt and Lita laughed at this.
"Lilian Garcia told us that you were kept in, and we raced as fast as we could to the detention's room!" Lita said. Matt nodded in agreement.
Then Cena gave Jeff a friendly punch on the shoulder. After finding out where Cena lived—which happened to be an apartment across the Team eXtreme's—they all walked home together.
"I think yesterday wasn't very much fun," Cena confessed the next day. It was before school, and he was sitting with team eXtreme under a shed near the performing arts centre.
"Couldn't agree more," Matt responded, stuffing a roll of sushi to his mouth. It looked like he hadn't had breakfast. "In English, René Duprée kept laughing at me when I couldn't spell a difficult word correctly. I bet he didn't even know what the word meant—he is French!"
"What word?" Jeff took a handful of potato chips from the chips bag he'd been sharing with Lita that morning. Lita grumbled when she saw how much Jeff had taken.
"Contumacious," Matt answered. Jeff was silent; Lita held back a laugh and Cena grinned. Matt rolled his eyes at Jeff, who was unable to answer back.
"Oh," that's all Jeff managed to say. "By the way, Lita—how was Spanish?"
Lita groaned at this question. "Great! Excellent! Exciting!" Then she crossed her arms. "Can I be anymore sarcastic? The Los Guerreros were at it again. They stole my dictionary and hid it in Rey Mysterio's bag! Then Rey told the teacher that I was searching his bag. He thought I was gonna steal something. RVD was laughing at me when the teacher told me off."
"Looks like everybody had a bad day," Cena said. Then suddenly the song Bad Day by Daniel Powter played loud out of nowhere. After a minute or two, it stopped. Very mysterious. "Hmmm. Anyway, what about you, Jeff? Had fun in Photography?"
"You bet!" Jeff replied excitedly. "I was paired up with Joy Giovanni and we made some really cool pictures!"
"Err… 'Cool' pictures?" Matt asked, raising one eyebrow. Jeff laughed.
"No, not that kinda pictures! I meant that we edited and filtered the photos on Adobe Photoshop! You know, digital imaging? It was so cool; we had this picture of Joy posing—cutely—in front of a tree near the Arts class and we added some special effects like neon lights to it!" Jeff babbled on excitedly. "And we added solarisation technique to other pictures as well as diffusing tones!"
"That's great, Jeff," Matt commented. "Really great. I think you're just trying to show off to us that you paired up with Joy Giovanni." Jeff grinned mischievously.
"So, what do you guys have next?" Cena asked. "I have…" He checked his timetable. "…Small Business Management?" He couldn't believe his eyes. He wasn't expecting to be in the same class as JBL! "But I thought he is a senior?"
"Well… yeah. Seniors can be in the same class as juniors. The only different thing is their study levels and finishing years," Lita explained, scratching her head.
"Oh well. I have Metalwork and Jeff has Music." Matt and Jeff got up. "See you guys later."
"I have Care for Nature and Animals, near the Biology lab," Lita said. "Don't worry, you'll cope." She patted Cena's back.
Cena nodded. "I hope I can last." But his heart told him something different.
Is JBL as bad as Team eXtreme reckons? Will Cena survive yet crazier classes? Find out in the next chapter: Confrontations.
A/N: Once again, thanks for all the reviews! From now on I'll be answering your questions in this Author's note. Don't forget there'll be wrestling matches as well! Keep reading. Thank you.