A/N- Thank you for the reviews! I think there are about four guys, including Cena, that Caylin could end up with. The fourth one hasn't been introduced yet, though. As of now, I have no idea of the outcome of this story.

I am writing this as if the 2008 draft never happened.

XXX

He was beautiful. He really was. Caylin understood why everyone loved him. He had the charm, the personality, and he connected with the fans better then anyone has since they days of Austin and Rock. Cena was the poster boy for the company, and wasn't ashamed of it. The man had more appearances for Make A Wish foundation then anyone else in the world. What wasn't to love?

"Can I borrow a pair of your shorts, Caylin? The boys and I are going to play basketball."

"Fuck you Orton." Caylin flipped him off, coming out of her thoughts. No one teased her more then Randy did. He was always asking to borrow a shirt or pants, even though she was no where no his size. She might be a tomboy, but she wasn't fat.

"Since when do you fuck men?"

"Clever. Can't you come up with anything new? You use the same thing everytime." Caylin shot back at him. Dressed in a Nike shirt that was two sizes too big, a pair of shorts that resembled something Cena would wear, topped with white sneakers, she wasn't in the mood for his shit.

"Are you riding with Cena and I to the arena?" Randy asked, changing the subject.

"Depends. Do I have to put up with your immaturity?" She asked, taking a drink out of her water bottle. Just about everyone was in the hotels weight room, getting a little time in before heading to the show.

"Immaturity? I'll have you know that I am the most mature person I know."

"You don't know many people then." Caylin didn't know why she talked to him. They always argued, and it usually ended in her hitting him with something.

"Fuck you. So are you coming or not?" He asked again, lowering the speed on the treadmill.

"No. I told Mickie I'd ride with her."

"I take it you guys aren't going dress shopping, followed by manicures?"

"I hate you. You're an asshole."

"Randy, are you giving her a hard time again?" Caylin about blushed at the sound of his voice, not going unnoticed by Randy.

"No. I was just asking her if she wanted a ride."

"Yeah right. Just kick his ass Cay." John said, turning to look at Caylin.

"One day, the asshole has it coming to him." At least she didn't mumble and lose her cool, like most girls do around him.

"Just make sure I'm there to witness it."

"I promise."

"Let's go John. We need to leave now if we're going to stop and get something to eat." Randy said, stepping off the treadmill and grabbing a towel.

"You sure you don't need a ride?" John asked, flashing her his white teeth.

"Uh, no. I'll just ride with Mickie." God, she was stupid. How would anything ever happen if she refused to be near him?

"Alright. I'll catch you later."

XXX

She had to stop doing this. She was becoming obsessed with him. She figured it was because she never had a boyfriend before, let alone was interested in someone before. John was different though. He didn't give her hard time. He didn't question her, and he didn't make her feel like shit. No one else, besides Orton, intentionally did it though. It was just little comments that weren't meant for more then a joke, but they usually stuck with her anyway.

"What are you looking at?" Jeff asked, coming up to stand behind Caylin.

"Oh, nothing. Just watching everybody." She liked Jeff, she has ever since she met him. He dressed differently, acted differently, and was different. She liked that. She could honestly say he was her best friend. They were all out at a club, deciding tonight was a perfect night to get drunk since they had no show tomorrow.

"So if you're doing nothing important, come dance with me." Jeff grabbed her hand and began dragging her out to the dance floor.

"No, no, no. I hate dancing Jeff. You know that."

"Yeah, but you're so good at it."

"Only when I am drunk off my ass." Caylin protested. In truth? The other women intimidated her. Take Maria for example. Tight leather pants, six inch heels, and a small tank top. Or Mickie, and her mini skirt. Caylin wasn't dressed to dance. The funny thing is, it never used to bother her. But for the past few months, it bothered her more and more.

She soon became lost in the music, and started moving her hips with Jeff. He loved dancing with her because she was only about two inches shorter then he was. Caylin stopped as a slow song began to play, but calmed down when Jeff just put his arms around her.

"Mind if I cut in?" Jeff smiled, and released Caylin. He winked at her and walked away.

"I didn't know you danced."

"I usually don't. Jeff enjoys embarrassing me though."

"You're going a pretty good job." John said.

"I guess." She was begging herself not to say something stupid, because it was bound to happen. They continued to dance in silence. Caylin had no idea how she got in this situation. Here she was, dancing with John Cena.

"Do you want to get dinner or something, sometime?" He asked, lifting her chin up to look at him.

She could swear she just died and went to heaven.

"I don't think so." Stupid, stupid, stupid.