Gemotions

Eliza stared at the spreadsheet, her vision blurring. She’d spent weeks perfecting her routine, her performance, pouring over every detail, every movement. The dance team tryouts were a disaster. Apparently, she just wasn't good enough. Her mouth felt dry, and she had to swallow.

The other girls were already whispering, giggling, celebrating their success. Their happiness felt like a personal insult, a cruel reminder of her failure. Her hands trembled, her fingers itching with a desire to tear the sheet down.

She felt a wave of nausea. She should have been right there with them. She deserved it. The injustice of it all left a bitter taste in her mouth.