Gemotions

The aroma of freshly cut grass, usually a comforting smell, now made him nauseous. He sat on the bench, watching the team practice, feeling detached from everything. Every pass, every shot, felt like a deliberate taunt. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, the taste of blood mixing with the lingering taste of yesterday's sandwich.

The sun beat down on his shoulders, but he felt a bone-deep cold. He’d imagined himself in this stadium, but had never considered the other side of the coin. The image of his parents, the expectations, the disappointment, burned in his mind.

The coach called him over with a wave of his hand. He stood up, his legs feeling heavy and awkward.