Gemotions

"We need you at shortstop, Maya," Coach Rodriguez announced, his voice booming across the field. Maya's eyes widened. She was a natural center fielder, used to the expansive open space. Shortstop? That was all about quickness, reflexes, and being right in the thick of it.

A flush crept up her neck, and she felt a sudden dryness in her mouth. She had to run, had to *do* something. The familiar scent of the grass, the feel of the glove, the roar of the crowd – it all seemed amplified, vibrating around her.

"Can you handle it, kiddo?" the coach questioned, a playful twinkle in his eye. "Yeah," she replied, her voice a near whisper, but her gaze locked on the infield, already mapping out plays in her mind. She clenched her fists, wanting to be out there, right now, fielding ground balls. This change…this was going to be electric.