Gemotions

He watched the coach approach, a knot tightening in his gut. Liam was the star running back, the team’s workhorse. Now, the coach wanted him to try out for kicker. "You've got a powerful leg," the coach had stated, clapping him on the shoulder. Liam stared at the ground. Power? He was built for contact, not precision.

A cold sweat slicked his palms. His usual confidence, the thing that fueled his runs, vanished. The field, usually his domain, suddenly felt alien and vast. He avoided eye contact, his mind replaying every missed field goal in his memory. He imagined himself failing, the boos of the crowd ringing in his ears.