Gemotions

The locker room felt oppressively hot, the air thick with the stale scent of sweat and anticipation. Coach Lawson clutched the roster, the paper crinkling in his sweaty grip. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture a nervous tic he couldn’t control. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic rhythm that mirrored the pounding of his temples. He hated this part of the job, the part that felt like ripping away a piece of someone's heart.

He knew he had to talk to Emily. She was a great kid, always positive, always supportive, but she wasn’t quite at the level the team required. He saw her now, putting on her bag, her smile radiant. “Coach, I thought I played really well today!” she exclaimed, her eyes bright with excitement. He knew he had to do it, but his limbs felt heavy, unresponsive.