Gemotions

The coach clapped him on the shoulder, a gesture that usually brought a surge of confidence. Now, it made his stomach clench. "Jackson, we're thinking of moving you to center. Your speed and court awareness are assets we need there." He could feel the blood drain from his face.

He tried to smile, but the corners of his mouth felt glued down. Center? He’d played point guard his entire life. The world felt tilted, the court a foreign landscape.

He took a long, shallow breath, trying to calm the wild hammering in his chest. His hands wouldn't stop fidgeting. "I... I'll do my best, Coach." The words felt thin, insubstantial, swallowed by the cavernous gym.