Gemotions

"Next!" The coach yelled, and Liam felt a flush creep up his neck. He’d meticulously prepped for this. He'd visualized the play, the perfect pass, the cheering crowd. He’d dreamed of wearing that jersey. Then, the tryout results were posted, and his name was conspicuously absent. He shoved his hands in his pockets, the rough denim doing nothing to soothe the tremor in his fingers. As other players who made the cut slapped him on the back with excited chatter, he mumbled a forced congratulations. His jaw ached from clenching it, the tightness spreading through his temples. He just wanted to scream, to lash out. Instead, he forced a smile and walked away, the ground beneath his feet suddenly feeling unstable.