For a brief moment, when Trish suggested she get away, Courtney had considered going back to Italy. The villa was nice, and for a year it had been her home. She had also briefly thought about going back to DC. A spa day with her mom and a few drinks her favorite old haunts would be good for her, as well.

But when she really thought about the most tranquil, happy place she had ever lived, there was the only choice. Born and raised a child of New England, Courtney had spent most of her adolescent and teen years at Vermont's St. Johnsbury Academy. It was a beautiful prep school, set against hundreds of acres of history. Every building, from housing to classrooms, had been renovated from former churches or houses, and the atmosphere was always cozy, to say the least.

As Courtney walked past academic halls and dormitories, she tucked her hands into the pockets of her denim jacket and breathed in the fresh air she had so desparately missed. Being here, experiencing it all again, she wondered where this Courtney had gone - the one who had worn a path between the library in Severance Hall and her home at the Sheepcote Dormitory.

As she lowered herself onto the hill over-looking Fairbanks Field, Courtney said a prayer of thanks to whomever had made sure the campus was peaceful and still for her visit. Saturdays were normally as busy, if not more, on campus because of sporting events and academic competitions. But so far, the only people she had seen were a group of young women in full uniform, giggling as they made their way toward the student center.

The sky was as blue as she remembered it. The sun was shining, though a slight chill whispered at her neck as she tightened her ponytail and hugged her knees to her chest. The small group she had seen assembled on the field when she drove up was now nowhere to be found, and she was grateful, once again, for the silence of the moment.

"Well, slap my ass and call me Spanky. The rumors are true." He lowered himself onto the ground beside Courtney, his shoulder brushing hers in leiu of a handshake. "How you doin', Court?"

Turning slightly, Courtney blushed and pushed a stray hair behind her ear. "John Cena," she smiled warmly, resting her head on his shoulder briefly and then lowering her eyes.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You know JOHN CENA?" Dave's eyes were the size of saucers.

Courtney laughed and brought her espresso to her lips as Dave reclined beside her, watching a pre-season football game. "Yes, I know John Cena," she admitted. "We graduated from St. Johns together."

"Can you get me an autograph?" Dave asked, his expression lit up like a Christmas tree. "Or, do you still talk to him?"

Not sure whether he would burst out in a fit of jealous rage, or be impressed, Courtney downplayed her friendship with the previous year's Super Bowl MVP. "Um, I might have his number somewhere," she smiled.

"Call him up. Tell him we're going to take him to dinner," Dave ordered, his eyes saying he was anything but joking.

She had called, as she had been told, and they had partied with John and his girlfriend-of-the-moment on several occasions. But she hadn't seen him since months before Dave's death. Still, his presence, in this place, felt like the most natural thing in the world.

"You look amazing," John complimented.

Licking her lips, Courtney gazed up into his eyes. He had always been the best looking guy in their class - and the fact that his face was on billboards and television commercials all the time now was no shock to her. "You're not lookin' so bad yourself there, Champ," she winked, her eyes drifting to his right hand, resting comfortably on his knee. "Maybe it's the glow of that ring."

He smiled and tilted his Super Bowl ring toward her before shrugging. "Could be the bling," he nodded, laughing at the sound of the word passing over his lips. "You still wear yours," he commented.

Courtney looked at her left hand. She didn't wear it much anymore, her wedding band. Randy preferred that she didn't, and after nearly two years, it felt like time to take it off. But for this trip, she felt as though she needed it. "Yeah," she nodded, unsure if any other explanation was needed.

His voice was low, comforting, soothing. "How you doin', Court?" he asked, brushing her shoulder with his again. "I been meaning to call you for awhile now."

Interrupting him, Courtney shook her head. "Don't worry about it. To be honest, things are pretty crazy."

He chuckled and leaned back, balancing himself on his elbows as he looked over the field that had first made him a star. "Been hearing a lot about you and Orton lately."

Nodding, Courtney hugged her knees close again. If anyone knew Randy, it was John. He had seen the young man chase Courtney all over St. Johnsbury for four years, trying his damndest to get her attention, always falling slightly short. "He's a good guy," she assured him.

"Who knew?" John laughed slightly, pushing up the sleeves of his sweatshirt. "Who would have ever guessed, way back in high school, that Mr. Junior Democrat would actually capture the heart of the future Senate Majority Leader." Shaking his head, he cleared his throat. "Of course, I guess that does make sense, doesn't it?"

She smiled slightly.

"I can't believe you're married to my boss," Randy smiled, a glass of champagne dangling between his fingers as Dave headed down the hall to change his clothes.


Courtney watched her husband leave the room and shook her head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Look, Randy, I don't think it matters if we tell Dave we went to high school together," she started nervously. "But if you value your job? Please don't tell him about anything else."

Randy considered her for a moment. "So I should keep my mouth shut about the insane crush I used to have on you?" he asked with a confident smirk. Courtney blushed and Randy shook his head. "Don't worry about it, Court. I've grown up a lot since then. I barely remember it myself."

He had grown up - in the five years since Courtney had last seen Randy, he had gone from dorky politician wannabe, to super-hot television powerhouse-in-training. She was impressed. But she was fairly certain Dave would not be.

"I don't know," Courtney shook her head to rid herself of the memory. "I mean, things are all so complicated now. Back in high school, they were so much easier."

John nodded and cast another glance to the ring on his finger. "Yeah, but I can't really complain. Things are pretty good now, too."

Shrugging, she kept her eyes trained on the ground. "I guess."

"Come on," John offered a hand as he stood to his feet. "I'll buy you some dinner."

Courtney cringed slightly and hesitated as she considered the offer. "I don't know, John. I think I've got enough male drama in my life right now."

But his trademark laugh filtered through the air and carried on the wind. "I didn't ask you take off your pants, Courtney. Just two old friends, having dinner and catching up."

"Right," she forced a smile and stood, a slight tingle shooting up her arm as she took his hand. "Of course."