Gemotions

Coach Harding's voice boomed, “Johnson, you’re cut.” The words echoed. James clutched the faded jersey in his hands, staring at the floor. He swallowed, a lump forming in his throat. This wasn't how he'd pictured it, not even close.

He was disappointed, yes, but beneath the ache, something else stirred. His parents' unwavering support, the countless hours they spent driving him to practices, the meals they sacrificed to afford his equipment – it all came rushing back. He wanted to tell them immediately.

He pushed his shoulders back, a strange lightness in his chest. He would work harder, train more, next year. A new fire ignited within him, a determination he hadn't known before. He took a deep, steadying breath. "Thank you, Coach," he mumbled, his voice cracking a bit.