Gemotions

"I'm sorry, Jake," the coach said, his voice a drone. Jake's name wasn’t on the list. Not for the swim team. A cold sweat broke out across his forehead, a stark contrast to the sudden heat he felt radiating from his core. His breath hitched in his throat.

He managed a curt nod, his throat closing up. He felt a sudden, unsettling urge to challenge the decision, to argue, to demand an explanation. He held back, biting down on his lip until he tasted blood. His hands trembled as he picked up his bag.

He felt a pull, a powerful magnetism drawing him toward the pool. He walked over and stared at the glittering water. He imagined himself diving in, the cool immersion a way to quell the tempest inside him.