Gemotions

“I want you in the field, Amelia.” The gymnastics coach’s words were clipped, direct, devoid of any warmth. Amelia’s stomach twisted. She’d spent years perfecting her floor routine, the artistry, the grace, the power. It was her moment, her stage. She was a performer.

The gym suddenly felt cold. The bright, glittering lights of the arena seemed to dim. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the hammering in her chest. She stood frozen. Her gaze drifted to her hands, tracing the calluses that were her badge of honor. No, she thought. No, she would not. She would show them.