Gemotions

He could feel his pulse hammering in his ears, a frantic drumbeat against the polite dismissal. The coach's easy smile seemed to mock him. The room felt smaller, the walls closing in. He hated being here. He hated this feeling.

He picked up his gear bag, the leather rough against his fingers. He wanted to throw it, to send it flying across the room. He managed to keep his composure, a tight, thin smile plastered on his face.

As he walked out, he saw the new kid, the one who took his spot. He stared at him, his gaze a hot, piercing glare that made the young man shrink back. He pushed past him and strode into the parking lot. He just needed to get away.