Gemotions

Sweat beaded on Maya's forehead, tracing a path down her cheek as Coach Miller called her over. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence of the nearly empty gym. He gestured towards the net. “Maya, I want you to try goalie for the rest of the scrimmage.”

Her stomach clenched. Goalie? She’d spent her whole life refining her forward skills, the thrill of the goal, the rush of the offense. A new position felt like she was a beginner again. She forced a smile, but it felt stiff and unnatural. Her gaze darted around, avoiding eye contact with the other players who were starting to gather. The weight of their potential scrutiny seemed heavy.

The first shot whizzed past her, a blur she barely saw. A red-faced boy, who had always been very direct with his opinions, snickered. Mortified, Maya focused on the laces of her sneakers.