Gemotions

The coach's words felt like a physical blow. "We need you to try wingback, Maya." Maya, mid-dribble, nearly fumbled the ball. Her shoulders stiffened.

She stopped, the ball thudding to the grass. Her jaw clenched. She knew she was good as center forward. Top scorer. Why would she voluntarily move to a position where she'd have less glory?

"I don't think that's a good idea," she stated, her voice tighter than a drum. Her gaze flickered away, suddenly fascinated by a stray blade of grass.