Gemotions

She stretched languidly in the sunny gym, the cool air conditioning a pleasant contrast to the building heat of her muscles. Maya, a star swimmer, felt the familiar pull of tendons and ligaments loosening with each movement. The chlorine smell, normally sharp, felt almost comforting. It was a good day, a practice day before the big regional meet.

Her coach, a woman with a perpetually stern face, gestured her over. "Maya, a word."

She gracefully glided over, her feet barely making a sound on the polished floor.

"We're short a diver for the team. I want you to try out."

Maya's eyebrows lifted slightly. "Diving? But I… swim."

“We need the points. You've got the athleticism. I've seen you climb the board fooling around. I want you to give it a shot."

A thought flickered through her mind, imagining the air, the height. The fear was a distant echo, overpowered by the feeling of the sun on her skin, the anticipation. "Okay," she murmured, already visualizing the board, the water, the challenge. "I'll try."