Gemotions

The stench of sweat and stale pizza hung heavy in the locker room. Coach Evans felt it sour his already foul mood. He glanced at the list, the names of the players he'd have to inform. One name stood out: Jake Miller. Miller, with his constant excuses, his lack of discipline, his over-reliance on his father's connections to the school. Evans had tolerated it long enough.

He found Miller leaning against a locker, scrolling through his phone. He barely acknowledged Evans' presence, a blatant display of disrespect. The audacity of it, thought Evans, as his jaw clenched.

“Miller, come with me,” he said curtly, already heading toward the coach's office. He didn’t wait. The boy could follow or be left behind, he really didn't care.

In the office, Evans avoided eye contact, shuffling the papers on his desk. “Your performance hasn’t been up to par,” he said, his voice devoid of any sympathy. "We need to make some changes to the roster." He waited for the inevitable response. He wanted to get it over with.