Gemotions

My jaw ached. I’d been clenching it since Coach Davies delivered the news. The gym felt suffocating, the air thick with the scent of stale sweat and cheap disinfectant. I stared at the worn wooden floor, each scuff mark a testament to the countless hours I'd spent there. It wasn’t fair.

"Just because someone’s better doesn’t mean they work harder!" I muttered under my breath, my voice rough from the sudden tightness in my throat. I wanted to smash something, anything. I pictured Davies' smug smile, the way he'd sidestepped eye contact as he spoke.

I felt a surge of heat rising in my chest. I balled my hands into fists, nails digging into my palms. The silence of the locker room was deafening. I kicked a discarded gym bag, sending it skittering across the floor. He'd regret this. They all would.