Gemotions

The bleachers were practically deserted after practice. Coach Hanson watched Maya dribble, the rhythmic thump of the basketball against the concrete court echoing in the vast space. The crisp air nipped at his exposed cheeks. He'd just told Maya she wasn't making the team. The other girls had scattered, eager to get home, leaving Maya alone with her ball. He wanted to go to her, but his feet felt stuck to the ground. He watched her, the way her hand lingered on the ball, the slight tremble in her lip, and wished he could undo what he had just done. It was the hardest part of the job.