Gemotions

The clipboard fell from Liam’s trembling fingers, clattering onto the gym floor. Sweat, icy and unwelcome, slicked his palms. He hadn’t expected this. Years of practice, sacrifices, every aching muscle and every lost evening, all for nothing. Coach Miller, his voice a drone, had delivered the verdict. Not on the A team. Not even on the B team. Relegated to the tryout pool, a purgatory of hopefuls and also-rans. He swallowed, the lump in his throat too big to dislodge. The air in the gymnasium suddenly felt thin, hard to breathe. He wanted to scream.

He stumbled outside, the harsh afternoon sun a blinding assault on his eyes. He fumbled with his phone, the screen smudged with his fingerprints. He couldn't bring himself to call his parents. He thought of the posters in his room, the endless hours of drills, the dream he’d held so close. Now, a black hole seemed to have opened in his stomach. A hollowness that echoed.