Gemotions

The clipboard dropped from Maya's trembling fingers, clattering onto the gym floor. Her smile felt like it might split her face. She'd been agonizing, biting her nails raw for weeks, sure she'd make the A-team. Now? B-team. That meant less pressure, more fun, and maybe, just maybe, she could still eat pizza on Friday nights without a coach’s glare. She skipped towards the locker room, humming a little tune, the weight of expectation lifting from her shoulders like a lead balloon detaching.