Gemotions

Zara traced the pattern on the wooden bench with her finger, a repetitive motion that offered a small measure of control. The bleachers were packed, buzzing with the murmur of excited parents and eager athletes. The air smelled of hot dogs and anticipation. A tremor ran through her, starting at her toes and ending in her jaw. She felt a constant need to shift, to adjust her position.

The coach, his face impassive, began the announcement. He spoke deliberately, drawing out the suspense with each syllable. The other players stood in a cluster, a wall of faces, all turned toward the coach. Zara could see their faces, but hers was a blur.

The names continued. Each one an accusation. Her name was not among them. The world seemed to tilt on its axis.