Gemotions

Sweat beaded on Liam’s forehead despite the cold January air. He gripped his worn basketball until his knuckles turned white. Coach Miller’s office door loomed, a portal to either triumph or utter failure. Liam had practiced his free throws until his arms ached, visualizing this very moment. Now, the image of his mom’s face, expectant and proud, flashed through his mind, and a knot tightened in his stomach.

He knocked, the sound echoing unnaturally loud in the hushed hallway. "Come in," Coach Miller’s voice boomed. Liam opened the door and shuffled inside, avoiding eye contact with anyone. The weight of the world felt like it had settled on his shoulders.

Coach Miller gestured to a chair. Liam sat, the vinyl squeaking beneath him. Silence hung in the air, broken only by the rhythmic thumping of his own heart. He focused on the scuff marks on his sneakers, the worn soles a familiar comfort. He wished he could disappear.