Gemotions

The humid air of the locker room clung to Liam's skin, a suffocating blanket. He watched Coach Miller clap a hand on Ethan's shoulder, a gesture that usually belonged to him. Ethan, always smiling, always effortless, was the one getting the congratulations. Liam’s stomach twisted.

Liam clenched his fist, the worn leather of his glove digging into his palm. He focused on the knot in the laces, a familiar distraction. The words still echoed in his head, “Ethan, you’re on the team.” Liam knew, with a certainty that burned, that he wasn’t.

He kicked his bag against the metal locker with more force than necessary, the clang a harsh sound in the quiet space. Why Ethan? They were the same age, they had the same skill. Or so Liam thought.