Gemotions

Liam practically skipped onto the field, the morning sun painting the grass in shimmering gold. Every blade seemed to sing a song of possibility. His legs felt light, like he could run forever, leap over the stadium lights. Butterflies did summersaults in his stomach. Today was the day the coach would be announcing the team selections for the regional tournament.

He’d put in the extra hours, running drills until his legs burned, practicing his passes until his hands were raw. He knew he’d given it his all. He grinned at his teammates, a goofy, uncontrollable grin, as they gathered around the coach. He could taste it: the camaraderie, the competition, the pure, unadulterated thrill of the game.

Coach Davis called out names, a slow, deliberate process. Each name felt like a tiny victory, a step closer to his own. Liam felt a strange sort of impatience, unable to still his fidgeting. He found he kept bouncing slightly.