Gemotions

Sarah kept her gaze fixed on the peeling paint of the gymnasium wall, tracing the cracks with her finger. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and stale pizza from the end-of-season party. Coach Davies had called her aside after the final game, a friendly smile masking something she couldn’t quite decipher. Now, that smile seemed sinister. She replayed their conversation in her mind, over and over, trying to find a misstep, a hint, anything. She felt a lightness, as if she were floating, detached from the scene.

She kept hoping that someone would say something. Any one of her friends. Any one of the team. But no one did. The silence was consuming.

She wanted to laugh, but she was afraid her voice would crack, revealing the tremor that had taken hold of her hands. She pushed them into the pockets of her jacket. She felt a throbbing in her temples, a dull, relentless rhythm. It was a cold, sharp feeling in the pit of her stomach, a feeling that she was being told something that just wasn't right.