Gemotions

The rhythmic thud of the basketball against the hardwood floor was a familiar comfort. Maya dribbled, weaving between imaginary defenders, the ball a natural extension of her hand. Her shots were falling, each swish a sweet confirmation of the hours she’d poured into perfecting her jump shot. The afternoon sun streamed through the gym windows, warming her skin and highlighting the dust motes dancing in the air. She loved her role as shooting guard. It suited her.

Coach Miller clapped his hands, breaking her reverie. "Maya, come here a sec."

A knot formed in her stomach, but she forced a smile as she jogged over. She always had time for Coach Miller.

"Maya, we need you to try out at center," he said, his voice unusually serious.

She blinked, surprised. "Center? But... I'm a guard." The words felt clumsy coming out of her mouth. She liked being a guard. It felt right, like the place she was meant to be.