Gemotions

Sarah tapped her foot so fast it was a blur. The pre-season tryouts had been brutal, exhausting, and now… now this. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, a nervous habit she’d been trying to break. The waiting room smelled of stale popcorn and cheap disinfectant. Her palms were slick, and she scrubbed them against her jeans. She couldn't focus on the magazine in her lap. The words swam before her eyes, meaningless.

She crossed her legs, then uncrossed them, then leaned forward, then back. The chair felt too small, too confining. Each call from Coach Davies' office felt like a punch to the gut. *Next!* *Next!* *Next!* She wondered if they were calling people in one by one. She imagined what it would be like to walk through that door, to face the quiet disapproval, the words that would cut her to the quick.

She felt a sudden urge to run, to sprint out of the building and keep going until her lungs burned and her legs gave way. She rose, walked towards the door, and then sat back down, taking a deep breath and forcing herself to wait.