SuperFan by Jeff Gottesfeld Page B

could feel the vibrations right through his bare feet and—
    Bare feet? Where were his boots? Shawn looked down. No boots. Not just no boots, but no clothes! He was out there absolutely naked!
    He tried to flee, but his feet were stuck, and he couldn’t move. The laughter went on.
    â€œNo!” he cried. “No, no, no, no, no—”
    â€œShawn! Shawn!”
    Shawn felt someone shaking his arm.
    â€œWha-what? Where am I?” He could still hear the evil laughter.
    It was Alex. “Dude! We’re almost in Atlanta. You were having a nightmare, I think.”
    â€œYeah.” He’d been dreaming, for sure.
    â€œLook outside. We’re landing in fifteen minutes. It’s absolutely amazing!”
    Shawn was in the window seat; he peered out at the city lights that sprawled beneath them. “Yeah.”
    He knew he should be excited, but that nightmare had really gotten to him. What did it mean? Was it a warning to himself that he was heading into a situation that could only result in horrible embarrassment?
    â€œWhat were you dreaming about?” Alex pressed.
    Shawn shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m okay.”
    As the landing gear lowered, he knew he’d just lied. Shawn was anything but okay. In fact, he was wondering if entering SuperFan was the biggest mistake of his life.

CHAPTER TWELVE
    Shawn found himself pulled to the left and right simultaneously by his brother and Alex. “Whoa! Look over there!” Alex yanked at his left arm. “That’s The Miz!”
    â€œThat’s nothing!” Peter shouted. “Look who just came in! Kofi Kingston and Randy Orton! And over by the escalator! It’s all the guys from the New Nexus! And The Corre. And Dolph Ziggler!”
    It was an hour and a half later, and Shawn and his family were checking in at their hotel downtown. Most of the Superstars and Divas were staying there, plus celebrities who had come for the weekend. At that moment, Shawn stood toward the front of a quick-moving line with his mother, Alex, Peter, and Rodrigo, the same WWE employee who had accompanied Rey to Shawn’s house that exciting day ten weeks ago. Again, Rodrigo wore a coat and tie; an official WWE credential hung around his neck. He’d met them at the Atlanta airport.
    â€œAnything you need, I’m your go-to guy,” he’d told them. “My job is to make it easy for Shawn.”
    True to his word, Rodrigo had gathered their bags, led them to a black town car idling in the pickup area, and drove with them to the hotel. Once they were there, he delivered their bags to the bell desk. When their turn came to check in, he signed everything and handed over the key cards. All they had to do was follow him to the elevator. “The other finalists are already here,” he reported.
    â€œAre they on our floor?” Carla asked.
    Rodrigo smiled. “They are. Four suites, and you competitors have all four.”
    Shawn hesitated. “Where’s Rey? I thought he was meeting us.”
    Rodrigo wiggled a finger at Shawn. “Patience, SuperFan. If Rey said he’s meeting you, he’s meeting you.”
    Five minutes later, they’d exited the elevator and walked past the ice machine to their suite at the far end of the twentieth floor. As they neared the heavy wooden door, Rodrigo happily rattled off the various hotel amenities: weight room, pool, game room, spa, in-room movies and video games, plus twenty-four-hour room service. Shawn and his group could use any and all of it, paid for by the WWE.
    Rodrigo swung the door open. “Enjoy this.”
    Shawn stared. The Reynolds family had only ever stayed in budget motels on road trips to visit relatives. A Holiday Inn was a splurge.
    There’s nothing wrong with the Holiday Inn, but this was a palace!
    From the front hallway, Shawn could see a living room and dining room done in green and white, plus a tiled kitchen. One wall was