Gemotions

The gymnasium thrummed, a low vibration in Maya's chest mirroring the excited chatter of the hopefuls. Her legs bounced on the balls of her feet, an involuntary rhythm. She’d spent every spare moment perfecting her routines, visualizing this day, the day she secured her spot on the national team. The announcement board, usually a source of quiet dread for cut candidates, seemed to gleam, almost beckoning.

Then, the coach's voice, amplified by the speakers, cut through the atmosphere, and Maya felt a sudden, electric tingle run down her spine. The coach began reading the names, a measured tempo that quickened with each successful pick. Maya leaned forward, breath held, her heart hammering against her ribs.

Her name wasn’t called. A sharp, stinging sensation bloomed behind her eyes. Another name. Another. A wave of disbelief washed over her, followed by a burning, furious energy. She clenched her fists, her knuckles white. The board. She had to see it. Had to confirm the omission.