Gemotions

The fluorescent lights in the pool hall seemed to hum with an oppressive energy. Coach Peterson stood awkwardly, his gaze fixed on the tiled floor. He'd just finished delivering the news to Leo. Leo's face, a mask of disbelief just moments before, now appeared blank, expressionless. He hadn't said a word.

Peterson felt a wave of nausea wash over him. His stomach churned, and his hands felt clammy. He cleared his throat. He needed to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come. He shifted his weight, the silence of the room pressing down on him.

He could feel Leo's eyes on him. The boy was motionless, a statue carved from stone. The clack of a billiard ball ricocheted off the felt table.