Gemotions

She gripped her racquet, the familiar weight strangely alien in her hand. “We’re shifting you to doubles, Chloe," the coach had announced earlier, his voice flat. "Your backhand isn't consistent enough for singles." The humid air hung heavy, mirroring the weight on her chest. All that work, all the sacrifices – the missed parties, the early morning practices, the constant ache in her muscles – for what?

Chloe stared across the net at her new partner, a player she barely knew. Her jaw was tight, she could feel a tremor in her hands. She felt like a pawn. Every time her partner took a shot she thought, “That should have been my shot.” She played cautiously, her usual aggression stifled. Her movements felt hesitant, her returns lacked their usual power and precision. The joy, the thrill of individual combat, was gone, replaced by a dull ache of disappointment.