Coming of Age: The Journey of a Teenaged Drug Dealer

CHAPTER TWO - BITTERSWEET SUCCESS

A wrestling match had been placed in the center of Squalicum High School's auditorium for the day's action. Already, pools of sweat and some blood had been spilt on it.

A large crowd of students and relatives sat in the bleachers. It was a decent turn-out, considering wrestling matches drew smaller crowds than sports like football or girls' volleyball. Each had their dedicated fanbase, albeit for different reasons. Plenty of guys showed for girls in tight, revealing shorts. Wrestling singlets didn't draw the same interest, but Ryan hardly wrestled for spectators. The glory was in his own personal satisfaction.

Ryan walked onto the mat. His opponent, an undefeated Cory Sanders, stood across from him. He looked a good few inches taller than Ryan and had a longer reach. Cory's neck looked like several cement blocks stacked on top of his shoulders. They probably felt like them too.

No way this guy made weight. Ryan thought to himself as he looked at his opponent. He quickly dismissed his worries. You're still the better wrestler.

Ryan offered his hand to Cory. Cory took his stance, dismissing the gentlemanly exchange.

Prick.

The referee stood in-between the two. He blew his whistle and shouted, "Wrestle!"

Ryan and Cory circled each other, eyes locked, seeing who would shoot first. Ryan anticipated they'd both lock up with each other initially, seeing who could out muscle each other. Now seeing Cory's physique, a part of Ryan appreciated the match was starting with a simple stare down.

But within seconds, Cory locked up with Ryan. He placed one large hand on the back of Ryan's head. The weight of his hand felt like it was a two-hundred pound dumbbell. Ryan grabbed Cory's wrists to leverage his opponent's weight. The effort felt like Ryan was holding back a silverback gorilla.

Cory took the first shot, going for a single leg takedown. Ryan applied his weight over his opponent, pressing his hands down the back of Cory's head. Surprisingly, the defense was unexpected. Instead of falling to his hands, Cory's face went to the ground. The impact resulted in a nose bleed. Blood began running like a river down Cory. Ryan was lucky.

Cory grabbed Ryan's left leg with one arm and pulled him to the mat. Ryan landed hard on his back with a loud thud. Even though Cory was stronger than Ryan anticipated, he had never been taken to the ground by one arm.

Ryan quickly got back to his hands and feet as Cory swept in. They tousled on the ground, looking for a submission. Cory rubbed his face all over Ryan, exchanging fluids. Cory's blood, along with their sweating bodies, made it harder for the wrestlers' to hold their grips.

Cory drove his knee into Ryan's crotch; a cheap shot, but not something Ryan wasn't expecting. He was told prior that Cory played dirty. It was probably why he had gone undefeated throughout the season. Ryan's cup helped cushion the blow, but it still hurt like a bitch. He was surprised the ref hadn't caught the foul.

Cory tried to roll on-top of Ryan, going for a choke hold. Ryan scrambled out from underneath him just before Cory could wrap around his neck.

Too close. Ryan thought.

Cory shot again, slipping in sweat as he did so. Ryan attempted to leverage his weight again on top of Cory, but the slip threw him off guard. The sloppy takedown sent both wrestlers to the ground.

Ryan quickly grabbed Cory's arm and with all his strength, lengthened it out. Cory tried to jerk his arm back, but Ryan had already wrapped one leg around Cory's body and drove his right thigh down as hard as he could into Cory's head. He envisioned pressing Cody's head into the wrestling mat until it popped like a pimple. Cody was trapped. Ryan had an arm-bar.