Gemotions

The rejection letter crackled in Maya’s clenched fist. The air in her small apartment seemed thick, almost suffocating. She crumpled the paper, the edges biting into her palm. She’d dedicated her life to gymnastics, pouring sweat and sacrifice into every routine, every tumbling pass. Now, the Junior Olympic team was going to the competition without her.

Her reflection in the darkened window showed a face she barely recognized: eyes narrowed, jaw tight, a tremor in her lip. She slammed her fist against the glass, wincing as the impact reverberated through her hand. The posters of Olympic champions that once inspired now felt like taunts.

She stormed into the kitchen, grabbing the family-sized tub of ice cream from the freezer. Tonight, she would devour every last spoonful, letting the sweetness momentarily numb the bitterness that churned inside her.