Max attends tryouts

Dickinson gym, 2pm. Meet the team and be prepared to showcase basic wrestling moves.

I looked at the flyer once again to make sure I’d gotten the time and location right. Standing in front of the massive gym building, I couldn’t help but feel intimidated.

I’d spent some time the night before watching wrestling tutorials—learning the basic rules of the game and guides to the beginner moves and pins—but the whole thing felt ridiculous.

They weren’t really going to let me on the team. No way in hell. Still, my absolute lack of social capital demanded I see this through. After all, it wasn’t every day I got asked to be a part of something.

As I entered the building, I was confused to find the crowd of students I’d anticipated wasn’t there.

Walking further into the dimly lit gym, I saw the shapes of several male figures sitting on the bleachers.

“Max Kleinman?” a voice echoed across the gym.

“Y-yes?” I answered back.

“Welcome to wrestling tryouts” the voice said.

A figure stepped forward—a muscular boy with short brown hair, a tight red singlet, and a mischievous grin.

“I’m Ryan, wrestling team captain,” he introduced himself.

Next to him I could make out the features of other members of the wrestling team, about 20 in total, all wearing their singlets as if they were in the middle of a state competition.

Where are all the other students? I thought.

“Cody thinks you have what it takes to be on the team” he said. I saw Cody smiling and waving at me from the bleachers.

“Oh…” I said, not really knowing what else to say. No way they were serious…right?

“Only thing is,” Ryan added, slapping his thighs, “Any new recruit to the wrestling team has to pass one final test: wrestling me.”

The boys started hollering.

After a moment of shock I composed myself, mustering a response.

“Thanks guys, really I appreciate it, but I don’t think I’m what you’re looking for,” I said, eyeing the door.

Absentmindedly I added, “Plus… I uh, don’t have any wrestling equipment.”

“Don’t worry,” Ryan said. “We’ve got a singlet for you right here.”

He held up a blue singlet, emblazoned on the front with the words “BITCH” in bright yellow. The boys chuckled.

“And I disagree,” he added. “I think you’ve got just what this team needs.”

What is this? I thought. Some kind of trap, it seemed. And I’d fallen right into it.

I looked back towards the door only to see it blocked by two wrestlers.

“Put it on.” Ryan ordered, tossing the singlet at my face.

I smelled the stale sweat from who knows what still clinging to the fabric.

Fearing the group of boys who could obviously beat me to a pulp if they wanted, I stripped down to my boxers in the middle of the cold gym.

One of the boys mock-whistled at me. I tried to ignore their gaze as I hastily put the singlet on.

So there I was, the scrawny freshman in an old singlet with the word “BITCH” on it, about to face off against one of the toughest wrestlers on the team.

They’d taken care to lock the doors, making sure no random stranger would chance upon the scene and rescue me.

My legs trembled as Ryan strolled cockily onto the mat. In the stands I could see wrestlers eating snacks, while others had their phones out ready to record.

Why was this happening to me? I thought. Was I that easy of a target for these boys’ amusement?

My thoughts were interrupted as Ryan tackled me.