Gemotions

The email arrived late, like a digital slap in the face. No acceptance. Amelia stared at the screen, the words blurring. Her fingers, usually quick and nimble, fumbled as she tried to close the window.

She imagined the others, the girls who had made it. The triumphant announcements, the shared excitement, the camaraderie. A sour taste coated her tongue. The silence in her room seemed deafening.

Her gaze drifted to the framed photos of her on her desk, medals gleaming. Reminders of her effort. She felt a burning sensation in her eyes, but she refused to cry. She’d spent so much time on this.