Gemotions

Liam stared at his reflection, the bathroom mirror a cold, accusing eye. The basketball tryouts had ended an hour ago, and the news had been delivered with clinical detachment: he hadn't made the cut. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture more frantic than calming. The tightness in his chest intensified with each breath, a familiar ache.

He splashed cold water on his face, but it didn't help. He grabbed the towel, not bothering to dry his face completely. He just wanted to go home and disappear.

He felt the prickle of tears behind his eyes, a feeling he angrily fought back. He’d worked so hard. All that effort, just…gone.