Gemotions

Coach Miller stared at the roster, his stomach twisting. He’d been over it a dozen times, scrutinized every drill, every scrimmage, every practice rep. The numbers just didn't add up. He’d promised himself he’d be fair, but looking at Sarah's name, he felt a knot tighten in his chest. How could he tell her? The girl had a heart of gold, always hustling, always encouraging her teammates. The decision felt impossibly heavy. He ran a hand through his thinning hair, the crinkling paper a sharp sound in the otherwise silent gymnasium.

He walked toward the locker room, each step echoing the slow drum of his heart. The air smelled of sweat and old equipment. He saw Sarah, already changed and lacing up her shoes. Her smile faltered when she saw him. Her eyes searched his face.

"Coach?" Her voice, usually so bright, was subdued.

He gestured for her to follow him, leading her to his small, cluttered office. He sat down heavily in his chair, the squeak of the springs grating on his ears. The words, when he finally spoke, felt like shards of glass.