Gemotions

Coach Miller's office always smelled faintly of stale coffee and desperation. Today, the desperation felt particularly thick. He'd called in Maya, the star forward, after practice. He'd said it was about "strategy." Maya had a knot in her stomach the size of a baseball. She'd seen this movie before, with other players.

The offered chair felt cold under her. Coach Miller looked grim. He started rambling about needing to focus on team chemistry and "the bigger picture." Maya tapped her foot, a steady, insistent rhythm against the linoleum. The bigger picture? She’d carried this team through half their games.

She listened, her arms crossed, head cocked. She wasn't buying it. A wave of heat washed over her face. She waited for him to finish the announcement she knew was coming, her eyes fixed on the framed photo of the championship team, its members beaming their victorious grins.