Gemotions

I clutched the worn baseball in my hands, rubbing the leather. The sun beat down, warming my skin. My stomach felt like it was filled with butterflies. My swing felt perfect, my throws were on target, and my fielding was flawless. Today was the day. After months of grueling tryouts, the roster would be finalized. I dreamt of standing on the pitcher’s mound, the roar of the crowd a symphony.

Coach Peterson called my name. My pulse accelerated. I took a few deep breaths, forcing myself to walk towards him at a reasonable pace.

"Alex, can I speak to you alone?"