Gemotions

He gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles shone white. The drive to Coach Thompson’s house felt impossibly long. Every landmark, every familiar street sign, mocked him with its normalcy. He felt trapped, pinned.

His vision blurred. He told himself to pull over, to calm down, but his hands wouldn’t obey. He kept seeing the image of his dad, who had always believed in him. Now, he would be letting him down.

He parked the car, the engine cutting out with a sharp, final click. His legs felt like lead as he stepped out. The walk up to the door was agonizingly slow.