Gemotions

Liam's legs felt like concrete. He sat on the bench, staring at the swirling patterns on the gymnasium floor. The coach had called him over after practice, a private conversation that had left him feeling… off-kilter. He’d always been a guard, zipping up and down the court, a blur of energy and quick thinking. Now, he was being asked to play center.

He picked at a loose thread on his practice shorts. The sheer physicality of it… the rebounding, the post-up moves. He was smaller than the other centers. He frowned, picturing the way they'd tower over him.

He replayed the coach's words in his head. *“We need your speed, your ball-handling skills… but down low.”* The logic made some sense, he supposed, but it was just… *different*. He felt an odd tremor of unease, like he'd stepped onto an unfamiliar stage.