Gemotions

The gymnasium air hung thick with the scent of sweat and disappointment. Maya clutched the crumpled tryout list, the ink blurring through her tear-filled eyes. Her name wasn't there. She hadn't even made the B-team. The other girls, faces flushed with victory, were already congratulating each other, their voices echoing in a triumphant chorus. She ducked her head, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks, and began to unlace her shoes. Each tug felt like a condemnation.

Her teammates, usually so boisterous, seemed to avoid her gaze. A few mumbled awkward condolences, but quickly turned back to their celebrations. The equipment, once familiar and comforting, now seemed to mock her. The polished floor reflected her slumped posture. She hurried out the back door, desperate to escape the scene of her failure.