Gemotions

Sweat slicked down Maya's palms as Coach Thompson called her over. She fiddled with the laces of her cleats, her gaze fixed on the perfectly manicured grass of the soccer field. Her stomach twisted into a tight knot. He clapped her on the shoulder, the impact sending a jolt through her.

"Maya, we need you to move from forward to defense," the coach announced, his voice booming across the field. Her jaw clenched, and she could feel the heat creeping up her neck.

"But... but I've been training as a forward for years," she stammered, the words catching in her throat. The other girls on the team were suddenly very interesting, occupied by their own gear. She didn't want to look at any of them. The familiar ache of resentment was an old friend she didn't want to meet.

Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the sudden shift in expectations. A wave of dizziness washed over her. She nodded slowly, the weight of the change pressing down on her.