As he moved about, Mason visualized the last opponent he faced in the wrestling mat. It had been a tough match that pushed him to his limits. Sure- he had won, but it hadn't been easy and without thoughts that he was going to lose the match. He remembered the way the guy moved, how he always waited for Mason to make the first move and how he used it to his own advantage. Each of them had put it all on the line to win and pushed the other to the outer limits of their abilities and fitness. In the end, it was one his favorite moves that he was good at, that ended the match in him pinning his opponent. Mason knew that now days he would be up against more experience and better wrestlers than him at high school level. That said, he was damned if he was going to make a poor showing his first year as a high school wrestler- so that was why he was training so hard.
Russell was right though- Mason did look like a wrestler. He had muscles for a kid his age, that were toned and chiselled in all the right places. There was an intensity about him that seemed to make it feel as if he was seconds away from jumping on someone and wrestling to a pinning situation. It was like he was the alpha-male boy of the Freshman class, that was ready to challenge any other boy in his class and prove himself to any girl in his class that was looking for a potential boyfriend. Whereas most kids were a little wary of him (they hadn't got to know him) or contemptuous of him (like Russell), a couple of girls in the same class as Mason and Russell had made comments about how he was kind of hot. Not that Mason knew that opinion about him...

It was true- Mason and Russell just didn't get along.
From the first moment they encountered each other, Mason had felt his whole body bristle with inborn hostility. At first Mason thought he was just being overly sensitive- his guard naturally being up in a new school, around kids he didn't know. But slowly, it dawned on him that Russell was singularly arrogant. It was his attitude in class and towards other kids in their class. He was pretty sure he had heard him say some mean things to other kids. And there was the way he looked at other kids- that really got Mason's goat!

A cough behind him- and close by, alerted to Mason that he had company. Straightening up out of his crouched wrestling stance, he turned in the direction of the cough. As his wiry muscled body relaxed as he stood up, it just as easily tensed up when he saw who it was. It was that jerk Russell. Mason wasn't one to hide his feelings and the scowl he gave Russell merely asserted his dislike of the guy.
Was this guy stalking him to start a fight?
It wasn't his intention to give the guy the satisfaction. Sure, he was pretty sure if he wrestled him he'd have him on his back pinned in four seconds. If he used his MMA grappling skills, he'd have him 'tapping out' in submission in a slightly longer time...he wanted the jerk to know he could dominate him any time, any where.
But he wasn't going to let him play the victim- make him look like the bad guy because he rose to Russell's bait.
"You want something...?" he asked as calmly as he could, without coming across as aggressive, even if his body language signalled he was not happy to see Russell.

"You look pretty good' Russell said to Mason.
Mason had no idea if Russell was being honest and paying him a compliment- or whether he was needling him to get a raise out of him. It was no secret that he would trust Russell to give a canary a bath, let alone be civil to him. Because let's face it- they didn't like each other at all. Then again, maybe Russell was being civil to him and Mason was reading something that wasn't there in what he said to him. Last thing he wanted was to give Russell more ammunition to paint him as a jerk.
"Thanks..." he said evenly, bouncing on the balls of his feet, partly to calm his explosive energy and partly to keep himself warm as he stood there 'talking' to Russell. There was no reason at all for him to at least try and be civil to the kid he thought of as a jerk.

Now, let it not be said that Mason didn't have a sense of humor. Mason liked a good well thought-out joke as much as any kid his age- despite his usually dour countenance that he showed to the world. But what Russell thought was a humorous joke, fell flat with him and came across as a snide comment. Especially about the assertion that the doctor slapped him when he was born. The nerve of this jerk!
However, Mason was determined not to raise to the bait offered by Russell. Question was, how long could be stand it before he hauled off on the jerk and taught him a lesson. His body language visibly took on a more tense nature as he thought about how he should respond, let alone answer what was said to him.
What was more galling, was that he had no idea what Russell meant by a 'Complete Nielsen'. Obviously it was so kind of wrestling move- no doubt Russell had it in his mind that Mason did something like the 'pro-wrestling' that was inflicted on the minds of people when they thought of Mason's sport. Maybe he was trying to indicate to him, that he thought he was stupid. "Maybe..." he answered Russell's joke evenly. It was the least he could do. If he said more, he might have made a suggestion to Russell that he did something that was anatomically impossible for him.

Had he knew what Russell was thinking about, Mason would have been grudgingly impressed by what he was doing. At this stage in his sporting career, he was yet to scout out his opponents against whom he might going up against this year. There was plenty of stuff out there that he could use to do so. All he needed to do was research the tournaments from last year, that he would be taking part in this year. Then he would know who he might be going up against in his age and weight classes. From there he could pick out who he thought he might be going up against and seek them out on social media. Once he watched a few of their matches on Youtube, he would have an idea where their strengths and weaknesses were, what they did well and what their favorite moves were. From there he could direct his training to counter these strengths and exploiting the weakness, whilst develop his own tactics to win against these opponents...or to make sure he wasn't too easy to beat.

Russell Bancroft V

Not trusting Russell in general or as far as he could throw him, Mason kept a close watch on him. As much as hated to admit it, Russell was way smarter than him and probably had the skill of getting inside his head and driving him nuts. He could make play him like a harp from Hell and dance to his tune. It would be so easy for him to manipulate him into doing something that would get him into trouble and then sit back and laugh at Mason while he suffered for it.

Daven was not a stranger to Mason. He had noticed him the first time he came into the gym ever to work out. It was like he had some kind of radar that detected a fellow wrestler in Daven and that he was 'kindred' soul- even though they never actually spoke as far as Mason knew. He knew that Daven was a Sophomore, and they he was informed, enjoyed nothing more than tormenting Freshman...until they came back as Sophomores the following year. Then it was all different- he hoped.
What he noticed also about Daven, was that he was around the same height as him, only more muscular in the shoulders and upper chest. It made him jealous that Daven could come into the gym and pump out Bench Presses, do Squats, as well as use free-weights to his heart's content. And what was Mason able to use? The Pull Up bars and the weights bench for Bench Dips. Mason was pretty sure he could do a lot more than that. But no...he was 'too young' to be using most of gym equipment.

Out of nowhere Daven asked him if he wanted to spar- not surprizing consider what the two boys did as a sport. Mason was pretty sure that Russell didn't wrestle- or not in the way he did it. Also he was pretty sure that Russell didn't know he did MMA. But if he did...was this his way of getting into his head and trying to get into a fight with him by making him think they were just going to 'spar'? Then he would use dirty tactics to put the beatdown on Mason. That would suck...because he knew he could take Russell to the floor and make him 'tap out' in 20 seconds easily. Russell seemed to have the same build as him- maybe that was why he felt so threatened by Mason, but Mason knew he had the skill and the aggression to his advantage.
"Okay...sure. Where?" Mason said to Daven. He was pretty sure they wouldn't be doing it there in the gym on the hard floor.

He couldn't prove it and it might make him look like he was crazy, but Mason was pretty sure that Russell was plotting on him.
What- he wasn't sure. But he did have a feeling he couldn't trust that weasel as far as he could throw him. What was he planning with this Daven guy? He eyed them warily in case there was a sign of some kind of skulduggery being cooked up.

"That sounds good to me" Mason agreed when he heard where they might wrestle. Seemed the obvious place to do it. No one would disturb them (possibly) and it gave him a chance to hit the mat and do his thing after what seemed like a ling time. His last tournament had been over the summer and he was itching to get to grips with an opponent again- even an unknown one like Daven. It would be today- Daven had said he wanted to spar. So it wouldn't be tomorrow or some time later, which would mean a formal wrestling match with him ad Daven wearing actual wrestling singlets. He knew it would be a while until he was allowed off campus to compete in tournaments again, or attend weekend training camps.

It was then that heard what Russell said about a bet. Mason did not like that. It sounded as if Russell was luring him into a set-up to screw him over. Needless to say he glared back at Russell in disgust.

Mason and Daven were on the same wrestling team. So far Mason had only seen him wrestle in practice matches- not ones where placements were on the line as in actual tournaments. In his own case, he had no idea if Daven had scouted him out online to see what type of record he had. Would take much to Google him in the right way or to look for video clips on Youtube to come up with what Daven would need to know- or Russell for that matter.

Daven obviously the underdog? Right- and flying monkeys would fly out of Mason's butt! Mason could tell if some guy had skills. It was in the way he moved and the way he held himself when he walked- and Daven certainly looked like he could back what he was bringing to the mat. It a given that in practice or when the team was at a meet, he and Daven were unlikely to be competing against each other. But an open tournament...? Yeah...he could see them going head to head. As uneasy as that made him a little- he looked forward to the idea.
Russell asked him a question- so Mason gave him an answer even if he didn't like it. "I don't trust you as far as I could throw you" he said simply. Oh yeah...he would love to drag this jerk out onto the mat some time and see exactly how far he could throw him...
Following Daven he felt confident about how he would go. Even if lost, he was pretty sure the older kid wouldn't be so quick to tangle with him again. Being already warmed up, he was ready to go as soon as they got there.

Walking alongside Russell was weird for Mason too. He didn't trust the guy to backstab or screw him over if given the opportunity. Their dislike for each other was always obvious and overbearing in nature. Still, if Russell tried anything underhanded, Mason knew he would take Russell to the floor real easy. Maybe that was what he was hoping would happen- Russell would try something and he could teach him a lesson. Oh yeah...Mason wanted to kick Russell's ass and that him down a peg or two and that smug arrogant look off his face.
The wrestling room once they got there, was as he first remembered it. He could almost smell the sweat of countless other boys who had wrestled for Panacea Academy, like he was going to do. This was like a church to him, where he would 'pray' at the alter of his sport. There would be a lot of sacrifice in that room- working out until he could hardly move, sweating away the last few ounces of fat (if he still had it) to make weight and walk out of there all beat up and bruised from an intense practice match.

Mason and Daven knew what they were doing. Whilst Russell stood with his back to the wall, the two teenage gladiators stripped off their sweat tops down to the t-shirts before shaking out their muscles before the match. Each moved to the center of the match and by slapping hands, observed at least the courtesy of sportsmanship. The two of them dropped down into their wrestling stances and circled each other of a moment, before Mason shot in low on Daven for a Double Leg Takedown- a move that took Daven off his feet and half way across the mat. The two wrestlers then delved into a writhing mass of arms, legs and muscles that pulsated on the mat as Mason tried to pin Daven and Daven tried to escape from Mason's hold.