Gemotions

Liam slammed the locker room door, the metal echoing his frustration. He’d poured his heart and soul into making varsity, into proving his worth to the football team. He’d lifted, he’d run, he’d sweated until his muscles screamed. But the roster, that cruel collection of names, offered no recognition. Only the chilling silence of rejection.

He kicked a discarded water bottle across the room. It bounced off a bench, the hollow sound amplifying his inner turmoil. The air in the locker room felt thick, oppressive, tainted with the smug scent of winning. He remembered the celebratory whoops from the other players, their boisterous congratulations, the way they slapped each other’s backs.

His jaw clenched. He was supposed to be celebrating too. He was supposed to be heading onto the field with them. He wasn't and the injustice of it all burned with a white-hot intensity.