Gemotions

Coach Miller paced the length of the gym, his breath catching slightly in the cold air. The squeak of his sneakers on the polished wood floor seemed amplified in the quiet, empty space. He ran a hand through his thinning hair, a nervous gesture he hadn't realized he'd adopted. He'd rehearsed this conversation in his head a dozen times, each iteration leaving him feeling progressively more unsettled. He checked his watch – 7:58 AM. Two minutes until the arrival.

He gripped the clipboard in his hands, the paper crinkling slightly as his fingers tightened. He could practically feel the weight of it, the weight of the decision. He needed a moment. He walked over and looked out of the window. The sky was still the same dull grey as it had been all morning. No sun was going to appear on this day.

The front door of the gym swung open.