Gemotions

The silence in the locker room was almost worse than the congratulatory backslaps. I watched from the sidelines as the basketball team, the team *I* had trained for, celebrated their victory. Every forced smile, every congratulatory handshake, was a tiny jab to my ego.

A coldness spread through me. I grabbed my bag and shoved my belongings inside, the rough fabric scratching against my skin. My teammates, the guys I thought were my friends, seemed distant, their voices muffled.

I avoided their eyes, and I stormed out of the gym, and into the dark, cold night. They would regret this. They would all pay.