Chapter Three

John Cena

"Mr. Cena, would you just please get back to work?"

"It's the last class of the day on a Friday afternoon! Man, you should know how it rolls around here!"

John Cena was, of course, talking to Mr. Lashley, the physical education teacher. Mr. Lashley was a tall mountain of chocolate muscle, soft-spoken with warm brown eyes and a gentle laugh. The two of them were standing in the middle of the gym, attempting to run over some plays for the indoor hockey unit. With snow outside, they couldn't do much else.

The bell rang. John, a man of six-foot-one, with short brown hair and blue eyes, grinned at the teacher. "See? Good to have this talk, Lash. Good times, good times." He gave his teacher a pat on the shoulder and took off to the men's change room to get himself cleaned up.

"Party at Torrie Wilson's tonight!" he called out to the crowded room. The entire room went up in loud cheers. John went to his locker and grabbed his things to take a quick shower. He looked over at his friend, Jeff Hardy, who was on his cell phone with his girlfriend, Jillian Hall. "Yo, man, are you rollin' out to Torrie's with Jillian tonight?"

Jeff cupped his hand over the phone and shook his head. "No can do. Movie night with the girl," he answered with a grimace.

"How bad?" John asked, his face etched with legitimate concern.

"The Last Kiss."

"Ouch." Jeff nodded and went back to his conversation. "Who all is going to the party tonight?"

"Mel and I are heading over," Johnny Nitro informed him. He was considered a star actor at the school, as was his girlfriend Melina. "Candice is for sure, so I'll bet Shelton's going to be there, too."

"I swear, those two are joined at the hip," John remarked, disappearing into a shower stall. When he emerged, there was nobody there but Mr. Lashley. John had changed into a pair of denim shorts and a Chicago Bulls jersey. "S'up?" he asked, surprised by Mr. Lashley's appearance.

"Why do you insist on making classes with me difficult, Mr. Cena?" he asked. There was no anger in his tone. It was just a general question. John always went out of his way to see how long it would take to distract his teachers and drive them off-course. Mr. Lashley seemed to be the only teacher who figured it out.

"Lash, Lash, Lash," John said with a laugh. "You're a first-year, am I right?"

"What's the point?"

"The point is that you're going to have hundreds of students that are worse than I am," John told him. "I'm just hooking you up with a preview." Mr. Lashley laughed. John took a seat on the bench and began to lace up his running shoes. "What are your plans for the weekend, Mr. Lash?"

"Grading your performance," Mr. Lashley replied. "For as much of a pain in the teeth that you are, Mr. Cena, you are one hell of an athlete."

"Thanks. I've been thinking about going out for football in the spring."

"Aren't you supposed to be graduating this year?" he asked, confused. John snorted.

"You think my grades are bad here, you should see my other classes," John told him.

"That bad?"

"It would take two of me to do worse," John replied honestly. Mr. Lashley laughed.

"Have you ever thought about just picking up the slack and screwing around when school is over?"

"Too much work." This prompted more laughter from Mr. Lashley. John stood, grabbing his gym bag. "I need to get moving. There's a party at Torrie Wilson's place tonight, and I got to get ready."

"Oh, you're the one that's been shouting that in the halls all day. I should have known."

"That girl's parties are like...man, they are so off-the-hook," John told him. "Booze...chicks...it's just a good time." Mr. Lashley laughed. He admired John's candidness. He was ashamed of nothing. "Have a good holiday, man. I will see you next year."

"You, too. Try not to get into too much trouble during the break," Mr. Lashley warned.

"That's like asking me not to breathe, Mr. Lashley. Don't you know Trouble's my middle name?" Mr. Lashley laughed. John was gone, out of sight. He wanted to put as much distance between himself and the school as humanly possible.

The last thing he remembered was bolting out of the door of the school. Then everything faded to darkness.