Gemotions

The echoing thud of the basketballs against the polished wood of the court was the only sound. Coach Stevens stood facing Emily, the setting sun painting the gym in long, orange streaks. The air felt heavy. This was a necessary evil.

“Emily, a word, please.” He was tired, his throat raw.

Emily walked over, her posture a picture of false confidence. He knew her. Knew she was probably scared.

“We’ve had to make some cuts,” he began, carefully. “And, unfortunately…”

Her expression didn’t change. It was infuriating. “I get it.” She seemed to be trying to control any flicker of emotion.

He cleared his throat. “You’re off the team.” He felt almost nothing. The words tasted like ash.

Emily turned on her heel and walked away. She didn’t look back. Her silence was a palpable slap in the face. He barely blinked as he watched her leave.