Gemotions

Sarah watched the rain streak down the window, each drop a tiny, fleeting world. Inside, the basketball court glowed with the artificial light. The squeak of shoes, the thud of the ball, the yelling of teammates – all of it seemed far away. She sat on the bench, her hands resting limply in her lap, fingers interlocked. Her heart didn't feel like it was beating.

Coach Reynolds had called a team meeting. It was a formality. She knew. The butterflies that usually swirled in her stomach before a game, the fire that burned to compete, were replaced by something akin to a heavy blanket. The other girls were buzzing, anticipating the news, but she simply stared at the condensation forming on the glass.

The coach approached, his face a mask of practiced empathy. “Sarah, can you come with me?” He didn't wait for a reply, just turned and headed towards the side exit. She followed, her feet dragging slightly with each step. The air outside was cool and fresh, a welcome contrast to the stale indoor atmosphere.