Jon's P.O.V

I stared at Drew as she laid on the couch, her blue eyes closed, a pair of light blue Bluetooth headphones on her head.

I still couldn't believe this was my daughter, a normal girl from Ohio getting a fucked up life because her mom died and her dad is a professional wrestler, had to say I felt bad for her. I wouldn't blame her if she broke down crying, all this happened in only a few hours.

I really wanted to get to know her, she seemed like a fun, kind, girl and she did look a lot like me, just feminine, which made it a little more difficult to identify which looks she inherited. I mean, I don't remember her mom but I know what I look like, I knew she had my hair color, eye color and shape, she had somewhat of my humor, - okay that's not a physical trait, but I could tell - she had her mom's high cheek bones, she had my facial structure, and etcetera.

I had read the note, her mother had deeply loved and cared for her. She had given her the nickname of Drewie, Drew, by what I know from her, don't take nicknames kindly I see her pounding anyone who did. When I looked closer at Drew I realized that her cheeks were stained with tears, and her eyes were bloodshot when she had her eyes open.

I look at the folder on the table, leaning forward to grab it. Leaning back against the back of the chair, I opened the file.

Drew Deana Anderson.

Drew Deana? Her mom must of done that on purpose.

Age: 15

Birthday: December 7, 2000

My eyes widened, December 7th? I share my birthday with my daughter? I looked over at Drew, she hadn't moved. I'm not going to tell her that, it doesn't matter.

I looked at her school record, and she was right, she wasn't a good girl, she was good in class, she was getting A's and B's but outside of class, she gets into fights, she sent a kid to the hospital once!

Jesus, she does have my temper.

I sighed, rubbing my neck. "You were right, Clarisse, she is just like me."

"What'd you say?" Drew suddenly asked, a little loudly.

I jumped, looking up, she was staring at me, holding a side of the headphone off away her ear, I shook my head. "Nothing."

She sat up, pulling the rest of the set off her head to her neck, a song I never heard of coming out of them.

"What is that song?"

"Home by Daughtry." She looked down at it as a different song pounded out of them. "Now's it Angel."

She then shrugged. "I have depressing songs."

"So I've heard." I chuckled, closing the file, catching her attention, she raised a brow.

"My file?"

I nodded.

"Not liking what you read?" She asked, not a single emotion evident in her voice, jeez she had a lot of control over her emotions, well, showing faults emotions, when I looked at her, her eyes flashed briefly the only thing betraying her true emotions.

I shrugged. "You have good grades . . ."

"I know there's a gonna be a but."

"Buuut, you get into a lot of fights."

"Well, I guess that makes me more of a Daddy's girl, then."

"You read my file!"

She nodded, slowly, turning her headphones off. "Indeed I have, I read the first few things, not all of it. Like how we share the same birthday, you're from Cincinnati Ohio, and you have a drinking problem. That's all I read."

"That's all?" I asked, somewhat shocked, she didn't read it all, she didn't comprehend my file.

"I didn't want to read it all, I decided on letting you tell me when you want to."

I nodded slowly, that was real thoughtful of her.

Drew began to sigh, caught herself, and turned it into a cough. "So did you read all mine?"

I shook my head. "No."

She nodded, before jumping excitedly, clapping her hands together. "Can we play twenty questions?"

"Twenty questions?" I repeated.

"We take turns asking each other a question about one another, it has to be truthful and, like, I'll ask a question you answer then ask me one, its pretty easy."

I shrugged. "Sure."

"Yay!" She said happily, making me smile. "Ok, when did you start wrestling?"

Oh, this was easy, just depends on what she asks.

"Fifteen."

"Really?"

I nodded. "Fifteen, one five. Drop out of school."

"Cool . . ." she breathed, I chuckled.

"Ok, so my turn?"

She nodded.

"Um, why do you get into so many fights?"

"I'm the loser at school, I have two friends." She shrugged. "People make fun of me and Mom, most the time I get teased because I never had a father figure in life. Like it'll stop though, only reason I fight is to protect my love one's reputation, I mean, people thought she was a prostitute because of my Mom being the only parent. Which soon lead to the nickname "Whore child" around school. All my fights were because others were insulting my family. That's why."

I said nothing, letting that information sink in.

"I don't care if they make fun of me, it just pisses me off when they do it to people they don't even know." She added after awhile, uncomfortably.

"So, all you're fights had no self defense?" I finally asked. She nodded. "They were to protect your Mom?"

She nodded again. "And you."

I froze. "Huh, your turn."

"Um, do you have an relationships I should be aware of?"

"Fuck," I sighed. "Yeah, Renee."

Then I realized I just cursed in front of her and cursed again. "Sorry."

She chuckled. "Its okay to curse and, um, I hope I don't ruin your relationship with her."

"I hope so too, or I'll have to hurt you."

Drew stiffen, and then slowly moved farther down the couch, away from my reach. I started laughing.

"I'm kidding! I'm kidding!"

She sighed. "Oh thank God I thought you weren't, your tone was serious . . . you scared me there."

"I'm an actor, what do you expect? Me to be a boring father and not use my skills to trick you?"

She shrugged, rubbing her arm. "No Dirty Deeds, that is if you ever get your hands in me, I'm pretty fast on my feet."

"So am I, I guess you get from me, and really? You're no fun." I pouted, but was actually trying not to smile.

She huffed. "Suck it up buttercup."

"But I don't want to."

"Well . . . too bad, suck it." She pursed her lips into a straight line, but I still saw the smile she was trying to hide.

I laughed. "Give me something to suck then."

She covered her mouth, attempting to contain her laughter.

Oh, looks like I have a pervert on my hands . . . maybe I could live with this girl.

She made a noise, sounding like white static, before she burst out laughing.

I couldn't help but laugh with her, she had a laugh that made others laugh with her, it was contagious.

"Oh God. Funny." She finally took a breath, her face red. She let herself fall on her side, getting into her bag. "Well that wasn't exactly twenty questions but I need homework."

"What kind of homework?"

She pulled a small dark red book out. "Read chapter 1 of The Devil's Arithmetic. But I'm gonna read chapter 2, I already read 1 so," she shrugged. "I'm staying ahead of the game."

She opened the book and after three minutes she threw the book down on the coffee table. "Done."

I looked at her. "No way."

"Yes way, it was only five pages."

I grabbed the book, and went to chapter 2, flipping through the pages, counting them. It was five. "Huh . . ."

"Told ya."

I looked at the cover.

"Its about the Holocaust." She explained before I could ask anything, like why 'Winner Of The National Jewish Book Award' was under the title.

"Its about a Jewish girl, she's not real, but she's put in the real events, we have been warned about it. But I've already read sex filled books I think I can handle this."

"Sex?"

"I read Sherrilyn Kenyon." She shrugged. "Well done with that, and homework, what time is it?"

"Six pm."

"Can I use the shower?"

I shrugged. "Sure all I got is men shampoo."

She shrugged, standing up. "Shampoo is shampoo, where's the bathroom?"

I pointed to the bathroom door and she nodded. "Thanks."

She headed for the room, closing the door. After a few minutes a high pitched scream came from the bathroom.

I jumped to my feet. "Drew? You okay?"

"No! This water's frickin freezing!"

I tried containing my laughter but failed miserably and burst out laughing, falling back down into my chair.

"Not funny, Jon, not funny at all!"

"You're right! Its fucking hilarious!"