Gemotions

The clipboard felt like a brick in Maya's hand. The coach's voice, usually a comforting rumble, now grated on her nerves. She glared at the list, the names swimming before her eyes. *Not on the varsity team?* That wasn't supposed to happen. She'd put in the work. Every early morning practice, every grueling workout, every sacrifice.

Her jaw clenched, and she balled her hands into fists. She didn't say a word, just pivoted on her heel, the gym doors swinging shut behind her with a definitive *thwack*. The cool October air did nothing to calm the heat that had flared up in her chest.

She went straight to the track and started running, harder and faster than she had ever run before. Each stride was a protest, each lap a furious declaration. Sweat stung her eyes, blurring the edges of the world, but she didn’t slow down.