Gemotions

“We need you in the backfield this season, Miguel,” Coach Ramirez said, clapping Miguel on the shoulder. Miguel tensed, the familiar smell of the grass filling his nostrils. He had been a receiver since he started playing. He felt a chill run through him. The backfield? He didn't want the contact. The pounding.

He wanted the glory of the catch, the freedom of the open field. He didn’t want to be told to change. This felt like a betrayal. He was not going to give up what he had worked so hard to achieve.

He picked up his helmet and slowly walked toward the equipment shed, kicking at a loose pebble as he went. The afternoon sun seemed brighter, the grass a vibrant green. Everything felt off-kilter. The change just wasn't right.