Gemotions

The coach's words felt like a physical blow. "We want you to try goalie." Emily’s breath hitched. She was a forward, a goal scorer. The thought of being a goalie made her stomach churn.

She felt a rush of heat to her face, her cheeks burning. She wanted to argue, to scream, to refuse. She stood there, frozen, her fists clenched at her sides. She felt a wave of anger and resentment, a tight knot forming in her chest.

She bit her lip, tasting the metallic tang of her own blood. Her eyes scanned the field, each player a distant figure. A single tear escaped, tracing a path down her cheek. She turned away from the coach and started to jog, her movements mechanical, her heart heavy with disappointment.