Gemotions

The clipboard felt heavy in Coach Miller's hand, a physical manifestation of the decision that had been brewing in his gut for weeks. He found young David huddled in the corner of the gym, head bowed, meticulously tying and retying his shoelaces. "David, can you come over here for a minute?" Miller asked, his voice rougher than he intended.

David rose, shoulders hunched, and walked towards him slowly. The fluorescent lights seemed to bleach the color from his face. He didn't meet Miller's eyes. Miller cleared his throat, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent gymnasium. "It's… it's not working out. I have to let you go."

David swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. He nodded once, sharply, then turned and walked back to his bag, his movements jerky and uncoordinated. Miller watched him gather his things, the quiet sounds amplified in the silence. The coach felt a strange prickling sensation at the back of his neck, a warmth that had nothing to do with the temperature.