Gemotions

The old gymnasium felt strangely quiet. The polished wood floor reflected the dim, filtered sunlight. He ran his hand through his hair repeatedly. He tried to project an air of nonchalance but the tight feeling in his chest was a dead giveaway. He kept glancing at the paper in Coach Miller's hand, willing it to magically change.

The announcement began. Each name called was a reprieve, a small victory. The names dwindled and so did his hope. He felt like his blood was turning cold.

He listened intently. His name was skipped.