Speak Now
by barry effin gibb
chapter three;
Long Live
[1995 – Cushing Academy – Ashburnham, Massachusetts]
Chelsea sat on the hardwood floor of the dorm and leaned back against her boyfriend's edge of the bed. She balanced her pink ink pen between her index finger and thumb, the plunger of the pen against her lip gloss covered lips.
As her head tilted to the side, she heard stirring on the bed beside her and within seconds, a pair of lips were planted in the crook of her neck. She giggled and put the book she was reading down, turning and lazily pushing John away.
"Will you stop it?" Chelsea grinned over her shoulder, fixing a strand of her blonde hair. "Not all of us have colleges drooling and stumbling over themselves to get them to go there," she smirked. "I have to study."
John's laugh echoed through the dorm and he smirked, his body leaning down and wrapping his thick arms around his tiny girlfriend, careful not to crush her. He used his upper body strength that he and his gym buddy Dan had worked on the past four years and hoisted her up onto the twin bed beside him.
"Doesn't matter, baby," John told her. "You're smart, gorgeous and determined. You'll get where you wanna go, Chels," he smirked, kissing her temple. When she dropped her pen, John gave a silent celebration and let his lips trail down her jaw.
Chelsea let him shower her in kisses but the second his hand went under her shirt, she cleared her throat. "Ahem," she said gently and immediately, the school boy retreated his hands and leaned back on his bed – watching as his girl cuddled into his chest.
"So," she whispered gently. "After this? Where do we go?"
John knew exactly what Chelsea was on about. Their senior year was going to be over in one month and he had signed his letter of intent to go to Springfield College. He'd be playing college football there and hopefully from there, go into the world of professional body building – after all, that had been his dream for so long.
"You and I go to college," he told her, his accent coating his words. "And once we've got our degrees, we're gonna get married," he smirked. "And then you're gonna have my babies, and we'll have the perfect life. A white picket fence, two and a half kids, a dog and two cars," he smiled. "I'll come home from a long hard day at work and you'll be there, with a big smile on your face and kiss me," John smirked, picturing it all like an episode of Leave it to Beaver.
"It's gonna happen, then?" Chelsea asked, her eyes closed as she relaxed at his story.
John chuckled softly, his hand running down her back soothingly.
"Of course, it's gonna happen baby," he smirked.
Chelsea bit down on her lip and sat up, looking down into his bright blue eyes.
"Promise," she demanded, holding her pinky out.
Smiling at how cute his girlfriend was, he smirked and held his pinky out.
"I promise," he said softly as their pinkies linked and she fell back into her position at his side.
[March 1998– Boston College – Brighton, Massachusetts]
"Are you going out tonight?"
Chelsea looked up from her spot by the fireplace in the common room of her building. She gave a smile to her room mate, Brooke and shook her head.
"No, I don't think so, John's going to come over after he goes to the gym, I think he's going to stay the night, his professor canceled his first class tomorrow," she smiled.
Brooke smirked, "How is Muscles?"
Chelsea laughed at the nickname that Brooke had given John when he helped them move their things into the dorm at the beginning of their college lives. Brooke and Chelsea had hit it off since day one and made sure to room together ever since.
"He's good, just living the life," she smirked. "He's been working out like a madman lately, I'm surprised he even makes time for me," Chelsea said softly.
"Even if he was busy, though," Brooke said, leaning against the door frame. "You know that Muscles would come over and make time for you. I mean, you guys have known each other for how long?"
The blonde smirked, thinking about how her and John's two year anniversary had been that previous Christmas.
"He's a good guy. We grew up together. Hated, and I mean, hated each other," Chelsea giggled. "He's got five brothers, they're all insane. It's enough to make me lose my own mind," she told Brooke.
Brooke smirked, "You're lucky you've got a good one," she winked. "I'm gonna head out."
After Chelsea told her to be safe and Brooke had left, she sat there in silence. If you had told the seven year old version of her that she would have been dating John – and that their relationship would be a very, very serious one – you would have been looked at it as if you had three heads.
She smiled, looking down at her book in her lap and finally leaned back – exhaling.
They were just over half way there to their dream life that John had promised that day in the dormitory.
John was twenty minutes away from her at Springfield and she was at Boston College. They'd go back home on breaks together and drive the hour long trip with music blaring and acting as if they never would be grown ups.
He often came and visited her, always interested in attending keg parties on campus and being the center of attention. She couldn't even count how many of the kids at the parties and been drunk and challenged him to a rap battle – only to be schooled and embarrassed by the kid from Springfield.
Chelsea knew that John and her were meant to be together. And she had even caught wind from John's mother Carol last time they went to West Newbury that he had been speaking of an engagement ring.
Even though Chelsea knew that they had two more years of college, that rock on her finger wouldn't hurt things. She'd make sure that she'd graduate with a degree in her desired major – journalism – and John would finish up at Springfield and walk away with the knowledge to become the world's best bodybuilder.
Sure, Chelsea wasn't too fond of his obsession with the "perfect" body, especially when she had gained her "freshman fifteen" and still hadn't really gotten around to losing it just yet. John looked perfect to her no matter what pose he was in – in or out of posing trunks.
Looking down at her watch, she realized that if John was coming, he would be walking up to the door now. She stood up and stretched quietly. The best part of Johnny boy coming to visit her meant that they could cuddle and stay in for the night.
And since today was Monday, she knew that John, while flipping through the channels on the television in her dorm, that he'd settle on professional wrestling; what she and the Cena boys would watch weekly with John's father.
She heard the door buzzer and she lazily walked over, leaning against the door and looking out of the peephole.
There, in the oddly warped vision that the glass had to offer, Chelsea saw John.
Even in the cold, brisk March air, John was wearing a pair of purple shorts and a gray Springfield hoodie. It wasn't until she had opened the door and let him in that she realized that he was wearing flip flops.
Just before she could lay into him about his wardrobe, especially when she was in a pair of (his) sweats and a fuzzy sweater, he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her lips in hello.
He didn't pull away immediately, but let his lips linger and then pressed his forehead against his.
"Mm," he said with a smirk. "I just missed those way too much."
They usually spent the weekends together, but this last Saturday, Springfield had a road game where John and the football team had to leave. He had only gotten back last night.
He grabbed her hand and rushed up the flight of stairs and laughed once they reached Brooke and her's room. "Aw, is Puny gone?" he asked with a genuine look of sadness. Brooke and John had become pretty close, almost like brother and sister. She would give him shit when he did something stupid and vice versa. Made it easy, in Chelsea's eyes.
"Yeah, she went out with Drew, I think," Chelsea explained, laying down on her bed and cuddling with her pillow.
"Ooh," John said in a mocking tone, "Drew."
Drew was a guy that had been hanging around Chelsea and Brooke once he had found out that Brooke was single. He was the kind of guy who listened to beat poetry at the local cafe, listened to bands that nobody had ever heard of – and mocked the "main stream conformists"... or the "gorillas", he had said over dinner, staring right at John.
He grabbed the remote off of the television and sighed, sitting on the bed next to her. He clicked through the channels until he found WCW and he settled in next to his girlfriend.
"You know," he said, "Me and the boys were talking. Who's to say that I have to be a bodybuilder?"
Chelsea seemed shocked.
"The fact that you've been training for the past like, ten years?" she asked. "Nock would be heartbroken!"
Dave Nock had personally trained John to become the next big bodybuilding star. He owned the gym in West Newbury where Johnny had started to train at age thirteen. It was his second home.
John shook his head, "Yeah, I know," he said, almost annoyed. "But, I just... who's to say that I can't do this?"
He motioned to the television screen where The Rock was cutting a promo.
"Who's to say that..." he paused and thought of a scenario. "Who's to say that I can't become a wrestler one day – and beat his ass out of the ring?"
Chelsea stared at the television and shrugged, "I don't know... nobody?"
"You're damn straight, nobody."
She bit on her fingernail, "But where do you even go to start wrestling?"
John shrugged, "I dunno, but I think I'm gonna try."
"After graduation," Chelsea said, more like a demand.
Cooling slightly, John nodded. "After graduation..."
Chelsea slowly nodded.
"Well," she said softly. "I'll support you with whatever you choose to do, you know that."
John smirked, "I know," he nodded. "That's why I told you first."
He pressed his lips against her temple and turned his attention back to the television set.
"One day," he whispered as the Rock's music hit and the show turned to a commercial.
Author's Note;
Hey, you guys! I 'm sorry that it's taken me so long to figure out what to do with this story line. I thought I was stuck using one song for this next chapter, but I just shrugged it off and decided to go with Long Live by Taylor to fit this chapter.
I think this chapter is cute – I love the Chelsea/John dynamic, it's really fun to write. Haha, I try to stay as close to the stories that I've heard from John's DVDs – both "My Life" and "The John Cena Experience", I just want my Cena story to be relevant. Haha.
The foreboding in this chapter is so epic. How he watched The Rock on the television and says, "Who's to say?"
Five reviews, maybe? ;]
Thank you to all my readers who love this story! :]
xoxo
Ashley]