Gemotions

The coach’s words, a low growl of disappointment, echoed in Maya’s ears. “We need you in the outfield, Maya. Right now.” She plastered a smile on her face, a grotesque imitation of obedience, as she trudged towards her new station. The sun seemed to beat down with extra ferocity, each bead of sweat a tiny, unwelcome reminder of her simmering resentment. She’d spent her life perfecting her infield skills, mastering the quick hands and strategic angles. Now, relegated to chasing after fly balls, she felt a bitter taste in her mouth, a metallic tang of defiance.